#the shit about discord is new occurrences but still

[ohdeerfully]

Hello! Just gonna take a second and say I freaking LOVE your writing! I myself am a die-hard simp for Alastor…but enough about that! (Apologies for the long request)

Could you write one were the (fem) reader is besties with Angel dust,they share a close enough bond to cuddle with each other. Y’know since they’re like best friends and whatever they just find it entertaining. Soon enough, Alastor catches on with this consistent occurrence. Since he has a huge crush on the reader, he begins to grow jealous of the interaction. One night he knocks on her room door, at first he (tries and fails) to hide his feelings and weirdly feels the crave for affection. Which is very unlikely of him considering he’s not of fan of physical contact.

But the reader, being the smart little bastard that she is, sees right through his actions and grows suspicious. He admits his crave for affection, surprisingly very slyly.

The reader has no problem whatsoever with giving affection. So, he and the reader happily cuddle and she pets the fluffy deer ears on his head. She also catches his little deer tail wagging like crazy and she giggles at that. Leaving Al flushed and embarrassed. She gives him a little kiss and they stay like that the rest of the night :). This is just straight fluff and jealous Al.

hello alastor nation.... sorry for going super MIA for one million days,, ive honestly not been super interested in hazbin lately and just been busy in general but!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i cranked this bad boy out (as in i struggled to write it for like a month so sorry if its super janky) cuz i miss writing and i miss our boy. i didnt follow your request perfectly towards the end but i hope u enjoy it anyway!!! very fluffy very ooc but who cares. also not proofread so if u notice anything glaringly bad keep it a secret

By The Moonlight

Alastor x Reader (fluff) TW: alastor is ooc sorry.. it comes with the fluff. hes also lowkey toxic momentarily but whats new

masterlist join my discord!

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Angel Dust was one of the first demons that you met after falling into Hell over a year ago—and, despite his generally off putting and sarcastic personality he was the first demon that was actually kind to you. So, obviously, you found yourself practically glued to his hip on the day-to-day. While at first he seemed annoyed by your constant presence, the bond slowly became mutual as he found himself trusting you and opening up his tightly guarded true self.

Life at the Hazbin Hotel wasn’t much different except for one considerably problematic detail: the Radio Demon. While the relationship you had with Angel Dust was very affectionate, it had always remained platonic, but with Alastor…

Who in their right mind would fall in love with that demon?

You asked yourself this constantly, often beating yourself up for it when you felt heat against your cheeks in his presence or when your eyes trailed along the curves of his ears as they moved. This is so embarrassing.

It helped a bit that he seemed to avoid you in particular, often coming up with excuses to end a conversation and leave the room whenever he saw you come in. Or… was he doing that because he knew you had feelings for him and was just avoiding you at all costs?

Lounged comfortably on a lobby couch, cuddled next to Angel, you tried not to think too hard about it, especially now during one of Charlie Morningstar’s regularly scheduled Guest Bonding Experiences where… Everyone was present. While Alastor never agreed to join any actual scenario, he seemed to enjoy watching Charlie try (and often fail) to gentle parent a crowd of sinners, to which his motives were unknown but still questionable. You knew how dangerous the Overlord was but couldn’t help but stare a little too long at him as he joined the room.

It scared the shit out of you when his piercing red eyes seemed to snap to meet your gaze, followed by a nearly unnoticeable tightening of his grin. You quickly looked away, trying to play it off by looking at everybody else as well. Angel’s arm, which was thrown around your shoulder, nudged lightly.

“You okay? Ya leg is jumpin’ like a jackhammer down there.”

You composed yourself and reassured him that everything was fine.

Today Charlie was encouraging different pairs of demons to share what they like about eachother and admit something they should work on within themselves. Like clockwork, the activities went by awkwardly and eventually derailed way off Charlie’s original plan. She was always able to quickly adapt, but even she could hardly settle the group of rowdy and crude demons when things got out of hand.  

Vaggie didn’t take long to get fed up and quieted the noise with a few shouts. Charlie placed a grateful touch against her arm before clearing her throat.

“Okayyy… back on track. Uh,” Her eyes glanced around before finally landing on you. She beckoned you up. Your mouth opened to reject, to complain, to do anything to get yourself out, but a sharp glare from Vaggie shut you up before you could even form words. You heard Angel snicker as you grimaced before peeling yourself off the couch and standing in the center of the room.

“Alastor!” The name made your stomach drop. “I know you don’t usually like to play along, but h–” She was hushed by a simple raise of his hand.

“My dear,” He said with a light, almost mocking chuckle. The static in his voice tickled goosebumps up your arms. “If you know I don’t join these frivolous games, why would you ask? Besides… I don’t think I could if I wanted to.”

The way his eyes glanced up and down with what you could only read as contempt or disgust made you feel sick, but somehow angry at the same time.

“Fuck is your problem, man?” You didn’t even expect yourself to speak, words tumbling from your lips before you could properly think about who you were talking to. “You think you’re better than me or something?”

A pretty rhetorical question, considering his status as an Overlord, but you couldn’t stop yourself in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was embarrassment, or hurt feelings, or a bit of both or something else entirely, but you wanted to hit him so bad right now.

There was a hush in the room, save for the growing aggression in the buzz of Alastor’s radio frequency. By the way his eyes darkened with malice, you could only assume the plethora of ways he was imagining killing you right now.

“You’re lucky I am better than you,” He said in a dangerously quiet tone, leaning his height over yours. You clenched your fists and stared back in his eyes, though your knees felt a little weak. “If you weren’t such a waste of my time you’d be dead where you stand.”

If your tongue didn’t feel like a hunk of steel you would’ve commented on how you’ve seen him actually take some delight in killing similar “low-lifes” like you. He held his position for a moment, towering over you. When he seemed satisfied with his intimidation he straightened himself back to his usual posture and tidied his bowtie. His eyes glanced towards Angel Dust, held for a moment, before he turned away and left the room.

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop. As your adrenaline faded, you shakily returned to your spot on the couch next to Angel before your knees had a chance to give out. You felt two of his arms hug around you, but you couldn’t muster energy to return the gesture, every limb feeling useless.

“Man, you’re lucky, really had me worried there,” He tried to lighten the mood with a laugh. “The fuck he look at me for, though? I’da thought he was gonna come after me next with that look of his.”

“Hey…” You looked up at Charlie, who was tentatively hovering next to the couch. “I… even for Alastor… I didn’t expect him to react like that. He usually just says ‘no’ when I ask.” You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.

“He’s unpredictable. A surprise from him is really no surprise at all if you think about it.”

Charlie’s eyebrows upturned as she looked over you, worried at your shaky state.

“You should go get some sleep, we can… just stop here. I think everyone’s tired anyway.” She waved her hand to dismiss the other demons, hoping to get you more privacy considering everyone was just ogling at you. Angel gave you a tight hug before sauntering off, not so sneakily following after Husk.

Your stomach was churning and your throat felt dry, but it wasn’t even a guess as to why. You pissed off and basically challenged Alastor and somehow got away alive. You honestly started to feel proud of yourself for that fact.

After the others left, Charlie offered to help you to your room but you merely laughed and assured her it was no big deal. You just needed a moment. You waited for a while in the dark, empty lobby, your only company the slow tick of a large grandfather clock against the far wall.

Soon an overwhelming feeling of paranoia set in and you started to feel jittery and uncomfortable. You could swear to yourself that something was watching you, but when you carefully looked around you couldn’t see anything. You hastily stood up and left for your room.

You sighed aggressively as the door shut behind you, resting the back of your head against it. Man, you felt so stupid. You never had any chance with Alastor anyway, but you still cursed yourself for acting like such a fool towards him. Just as you lifted yourself from the despairing slouched position against the wooden door, a quick but gentle knock sounded from the other side.

Assuming it was Charlie making another “are you sure you’re okay” round, you fixed your face with a smile and opened the door. As soon as it opened just a crack, your senses were flooded with the buzzing hum of an uncomfortably familiar radio noise.

Ah. Shit.

The smile was frozen temporarily on your shocked face but then slowly dropped as instead of the sweet expression of Charlie you were expecting, you instead trailed your eyes up to meet the cold, red gaze of Alastor.

Okay. Yeah. He was just here to kill you now since nobody—notably Charlie—was here to see. Makes sense!

You tried your best to stand still and unbothered as a few seconds of silence ticked by, though you weren’t sure how well you’d be able to keep it up a second time, especially now that you were... Alone. In the dark. With Alastor. Your head was already starting to hurt from the overpowering sound of radio frequency. Somehow still, you mustered the courage to speak.

“Aren’t you supposed to say hello?” You weren’t exactly sure why you said anything remotely aggressive, though maybe you were already resigned to accepting your fate at the hands of the Overlord in front of you. 

It seemed to trigger him to life again, as his eyebrows raised along with his smile. “Oh! My apologies, where have my manners gone! Hello!” You couldn’t really tell if the grin that stretched across his face held more hatred than usual.

Your arms were folded as you waited for him to continue, lips slightly pursed in worry at his presence.

Surprisingly enough, Alastor seemed to be unsure of what to say next. His mouth was slightly agape, almost like the words were caught in his throat and he was having trouble deciding what to say next. Which was odd for him, considering how he always seemed so thought out and sure of himself.

“You know, you shouldn’t be so physical with that spider friend of ours,” He finally said, which seemed incredibly forward, even by his standards. Your eyebrow quirked up in response, a frown forming at the way he so distastefully spat out his reference to Angel Dust.

“And why’s that?” “A dame like yourself… so… physical with that walking sex disaster. It’s unbecoming.”

“And… why are you telling me this? Why do you think I care what some old-fashioned radio host has to say about how I run my friendships?” You placed your hand on the door frame, ready to shut it in his face—but there was something odd about his expression that intrigued you just enough to keep it open. 

Alastor took a step forward, sensing your intention to shut the door. You took a matching step backwards. Your heart was beating at a pace you didn’t know it was capable of, reaching a rush of adrenaline that you assumed was at the face of your (final) death.

“I can’t say why I’m telling you this. I can’t say why I even care what some weak creature like you is doing. But I do know that I want you to listen to me and I will tear that spider apart if it means you do.” Every few words brought him a step towards you, and, just as before, you met with the same amount of steps backwards. You felt the back of your foot touch a foot of your bed.

“So you’re jealous?”

An almost comical record-scratch-esque noise sounded from—you assume—his radio staff as his body stiffened and eyes narrowed. The ambience of radio static was momentarily gone. You yourself froze, unsure exactly what made you so bold all of a sudden. It seems the face of death is one hell of a drug.

“What? How… how dare you even suggest such a ridiculous idea,” Although the intent of his words were hostile, he seemed… flustered? His face was turned away slightly and you could see the corners of his smile trembling a little bit. Would you dare admitting to yourself it was oddly cute?

“Listen, man, I’m just calling it how I see it. You come to my room in the dead of night complaining about me snugglin’ with Angel Dust. Just as you said… why would you care? Unless, of course…” You trailed, leaving the very obvious end to your sentence open for interpretation. 

Stiffly collapsing into a seated position on the corner of your bed made you realize how wobbly your knees had gotten as you were sure Alastor had been planning to kill you. You still weren’t positive you were in the clear, but your chances seemed a little brighter.

Alastor seemed to be battling some internal monologue because he still stood with his head turned from you. He was growing increasingly agitated, with the sound of his radio static returning and somehow getting sharper and louder. You wanted to try to pull him back into the conversation before he dipped out and never spoke to you again. 

“You know, I’ve never really felt any real love for the people around me. Even when I was alive. I love Angel Dust, yeah, but… nothing beyond the friendship we have. But then I got to the hotel and–”

“Why are you telling me this? I don’t care. I’m not a therapist.”

“For a guy that cares so much about manners you sure love to interrupt,” You spoke in a teasing tone, though Alastor didn’t seem to appreciate the words anyway. “Plus, I mean… You’re still here. Listening.”

He pondered for a moment. You honestly were surprised he didn’t just teleport the fuck out of there the second you started talking about your feelings.

“I don’t know why I care about you.” He admitted, and you didn’t fail to notice the lack of his usual radio-filtered voice. As awkward as the words seemed falling from his lips, his piercing eye contact with you never wavered as if he was just trying to intimidate you into nonexistence so he didn’t have to deal with this.

When you patted the spot on the bed next to you, you didn’t actually expect him to accept the offer. What you expected even less was for him to sit just close enough for your shoulders to touch. He was stiff and likely uncomfortable, and… so were you. You really had no clue how you even got here.

Seconds felt like hours as you sat in silence, the barely noticeable prickling of static against your skin being the only thing keeping you present. Otherwise you worried you might pass out from how long your heart had been nearly beating out of your chest.

“What were you saying earlier?” His voice suddenly broke the silence, making you jump slightly. You looked at him, but he was busy looking out a window.

“What do you mean?” “I mean earlier when I, very rudely, I apologize, interrupted you. What were you saying… about when you finally got to the hotel?”

His voice had such a sweet sound to it when it wasn’t distorted like it went through a radio channel. You allowed your eyes to trace the silhouette of his face for just a moment, lit ever so slightly by the red of the moon being filtered in by the window. You didn’t dare let your gaze linger for too long just in case he turned back towards you.

“Ah, I thought you weren’t my therapist,” You joked lightly. He side-eyed you, eyebrows scrunching.

“Don’t push your luck here.”

You laughed breathlessly, struggling to find air to even speak. You were still so incredibly nervous sitting so close to him and speaking so intimate with him.

“Yeah, uh… When I got to the hotel I think I finally found someone I felt love for. Something beyond just friendship. And it’s a weird feeling.”

Your knees were almost touching his. You could’ve sworn you weren’t this close to him before.

“I don’t think you should say who that demon is.”

“I know.”

Silence passed between you two again, and he still remained fixated on staring out the window. Finally, after a few moments of quiet, he finally turned his gaze back to you. His eyes, although they glowed with a dangerous, murderous red, somehow entranced you. They always had, but something about being this close to him in the gentle lighting being cast in from the moon… you could almost drown in them.

Without much of a thought, your hand had risen towards his face. When he flinched away you were suddenly brought back to your senses and your hand froze midair. Before you could move away and throw out a million apologies, his clawed fingers wrapped over yours.

It was a strange sensation, feeling his hand against yours. His skin was far from warm, and you knew how much blood spilled between his fingers, yet…

You allowed him to pull you towards him, a tug at your wrist bringing your chest flush against his. Your head was under his chin, and you held yourself stiffly against him. You could tell he wasn’t so sure either, with the way his hand held a rough uncertainty at the base of your back and his clawed fingers dug just a bit too roughly into your skin as he held you against him.

Gently moving, you tested the waters of his tolerance of you taking matters into your own hands. Although this feeling was unknown to the both of you, you at the very least knew how to be comfortable.

You urged him to scoot towards the pillows, pulling him along and pressing him back down on his back. You moved slow, waiting for the smallest hint that he wanted you to stop, but it never came. You settled next to him, flush against his side and you guided his arm to wrap around your waist. 

The stiffness ever so gradually left his body as he completely succumbed himself to you, allowing you to mold the two of you into an interwoven position, a closeness that the two of you desperately needed for each other. He would never admit this desire, but you knew by the fact you weren’t incinerated for trying to touch him that he needed this as much as you did.

Once settled, you traced featherlike fingers across his arm. You weren’t eye level with him, but you knew by the red glow in your peripheral that he was staring fixedly at you as if to study your entire being.

The moon eventually moved beyond your window, casting the room in complete darkness, your only sensation being the pressure of Alastor’s body against yours. There wasn’t even the slightest buzz of radio noise that seemed to always encompass his presence. His eyes must’ve been shut, too, as there wasn’t even a glow from them.

You let your eyes fall shut, enjoying the peace of the moment. You hadn’t the slightest clue what would happen in the morning—maybe you’d never even wake up if he got upset with some morning clarity.

You didn’t care too much, though. You’d just enjoy it while it lasted.

[thetetratan]

(welcome to the cartilage)

(the place in between multiverses)

(this is a post essentially explaining all of the TETRATAN's lore soooo)

(also anything in parentheses isn't in char)

(but everything else is)

(sooooooo)

(read this post if you want to know about the TETRATAN's lore)

(Or go in blind and see if you can piece together anything)

(that may be more fun)

(idk it's up to you)

(but this post did take more than two days to write)

(so I would appreciate it if you did read it all)

(this story starts a long long time ago, like every damn story. But I'm talking like REALLLLLY long time ago. Like HUNDREDS OF BILLIONS OF YEARS AGO. This story takes place in a kingdom, and by now you already have deja Vu from the stories you were told as a kid. But this kingdom wasnt any normal kingdom, because it was an ENTIRE OMNIVERSE. At this moment in time, the only inhabitants of this omniverse were all the different types of Titans, omniversal beings that held time most power out of any species, ever. Besides the other types of Titans, of course. There are four types of Titans. Normal Titans, who can use Titan magic, or xylves, but can be hurt by anything. Then there are Supertitans and HYPERTITANS. Both being able to use xylve magic, and only being hurt by said xylves. HYPERTITANS, being stronger than Supertitans, had their entire names capitalized, even in speech! And finally there was the most powerful Titans, the TETRATANS, who not only had two extra tentacles for legs, but also were incredibly rare and unique. The TETRATANS were actually around the same power as the HYPERTITANS, but the difference comes from a different item, the TETRA CRYSTAL, which gives incredible power to any who wield it. Any being could receive a major power boost in all areas with this crystal, but the titan types, especially the TETRATANS, were extra reactive to the crystal. These TETRATANS were few and far between though, so the ones that did exist were basically worshipped by everything, including lesser Titans. (Also this may be a good time to note that cannibalism was morally acceptable at this time, in fact it was a regular occurrence, because Titans of all variations besides regular Titans feed solely off of deceased xylve matter, and Titans were not just using xylves, they were made of it, so going to war with other Titans was a good idea cuz death of people meant food ok now back to the main story oh wait we only now just finished the background info oh shit this is a lot of lore) So one of these worshipped TETRATANS was named ECHO (@21ducky don't you dare even think about it) and ECHO was kinda a tyrant (just like @21ducky) and no one really liked him but they still worshipped him because they would immediately die if they stood against him.)

(or would they?)

(see, there was this one person, who wasn't any type of Titan, but was at the moment pretending to be a Supertitan. His name was DISCORD. You may be asking, why is HIS name capitalized? I thought only HYPERTITANS and above get that treatment! Well, you would be correct. DISCORD gets the capital name treatment even thought he technically isn't a Titan at all. This is because he became a person with equivalent power to a TETRATAN. DISCORD found a material that, when used in a process that involves the TETRA CRYSTAL, can become a new material that mimics parchment paper. But everything written in it will come true. So he used his newfound power to become as strong as ECHO, and he eventually won. He sealed ECHO in the first dimension to stay for all eternity. But ECHO will be important later...)

(meanwhile, DISCORD starts to fake being a TETRATAN cuz even thought he has the power of a TETRATAN and the cool TETRA CRYSTAL thing, he technically isn't. But the other Titans don't know that they'll just worship him anyway. DISCORD goes med with power trying to make sure no other TETRATAN tries to become another tyrant, and becomes a tyrant himself. So that worked well for him, didn't it? He settles in the Citadels, which house the HYPERTITANS and live in the one in the middle, which houses the TETRA CRYSTAL. So yeah a pretty overpowered location. He starts using that material from before that gave him power (don't have a name for it yet) and writes things assuring that he stays in power, buuuuuut in his rush to make sure no other TETRATAN can come to power, he made the thing wrong (L) so THIS paper does absolutely nothing besides serve as paper. But he doesn't know that, so he keeps writing and writing, and starts writing these in rhyming poems and plays them off as prophecies (even though they won't even come true lol). The HYPERTITANS dub him as a prophet, and dub his living space as the Prophet's Castle. Eventually has a plan to get more power. But don't worry about that plan because he DIES.)

(So after their leader and idol DIES, the HYPERTITANS all go to war against each other.)

(The HYPERTITANS have been broken up into a few clans. Being in a clan was advantageous because they were going to war with other HYPERTITANS all the time. They also unanimously decided to keep it a secret that DISCORD died from the other Titan types. Just because THEY wanted to be the ones to get to the Prophet's Castle. See, most HYPERTITAN wars were fought between two clans, just for the sake of food. But there was another motive to this war. Remember the TETRA CRYSTAL? Yeah, that was kept with DISCORD in the Prophet's Castle so if any clan got into the Prophet's Castle, DISCORD would have INSANE powers over the other HYPERTITANS. So each clan was trying to get to the Prophet's Castle, to get that sweet sweet extra power for themselves. Eventually one clan got to the Prophet's Castle and used the TETRA CRYSTAL's power to defend themselves and stay in control. There, the leader of that tribe had his second son. (His other son left to the land of the Supertitans as a representative of his clan to establish trade offers) This new baby HYPERTITAN was actually really special, because he wasn't a HYPERTITAN. He was a TETRATAN. (Remember TETRATANS are just HYPERTITANS with a stronger connection to the TETRA CRYSTAL) So considering that the new baby was part of a species that was worshipped in the past and when in proximity to the TETRA CRYSTAL are by FAR the strongest beings in the omniverse, the HYPERTITANS decided to raise him as their own and try to use his power against their enemies. But Titans in general age much slower than humans. Like, MUCH slower. It depends on what Titan that person is, but for HYPERTITANS AND TETRATANS, it's around one TETRATAN year (or HYPERTITAN year) for every one BILLION human years. So the HYPERTITANS will have to wait a while before having this powerhouse. The HYPERTITAN clan tried to keep it a secret from the other clans, but eventually word got out, and all the HYPERTITAN clans had a new target. To either kidnap or kill the infant TETRATAN. (And if it isn't clear yet, this infant is THE TETRATAN. The one who runs this blog.) Eventually, one of the outside HYPERTITAN clans were able to infiltrate the Prophet's Castle and kidnap the TETRATAN. But not before his oven clan noticed. In the midst of the battle that ensued, the TETRATAN did one thing, that changed everything. He started to cry. Now, this may not seem like so much, but this is a TETRATAN, LITERALLY ADJACENT TO THE TETRA CRYSTAL. Also, no one was expecting a massive blast to come from the baby being kidnapped, so when it came, no one was ready. Everyone was all so not ready, in fact, that they ALL DIED. So yeah, nice going there TETRATAN. And when I say they all died, I mean EVERY HYPERTITAN, AND MANY TITANS were affected. The Titans don't even live in the area! The Supertitans live even further, but even they could feel it, although no one got hurt. This big boom was also strong enough to SHATTER THE TETRA CRYSTAL. The TETRA CRYSTAL broke into many TETRA SHARDS, each giving whoever wields one an AMAZING boost of power, but not NEARLY as amazing as the full TETRA CRYSTAL.)

(Killing wasn't the only thing that this blast did, though. It also created the ENTIRE OMNIVERSE. The one EVERY UNIVERSE AND MULTIVERSE THAT HOUSES A NON-TITAN SPECIES IS IN. And, if it isn't clear enough yet, this baby crying was the cause of the BIG BANG.(The one they were in before is now called the ruins, cuz that blast destroyed most of it, and this new one is called the Omniverse, as uncreative as that is. There are other omniverses, but none besides these two are important to this story.) So now with the creation of non-Titan beings, and a massive blast coming from the HYPERTITAN area, there was a lot that caught the eyes of the surviving Titans. Including a certain HYPERTITAN off establishing trade offers in the SUPERTITAN lands. THE TETRATAN'S BROTHER!!!!!! DUN DUN DUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!!)

(The TETRATAN's brother, understandably panicked by the big boom boom, rushes back home immediately and sees what has come of the ENTIRE HYPERTITAN SPECIES. And he notices the only survivor is a baby. He quickly figures out that the baby caused the big boom (somehow) and, having just lost his entire family (well not his ENTIRE family cuz the baby is his brother but he doesn't know that) the TETRATAN'S brother decides to yeet the TETRATAN into the omniverse he just created to live there cuz he doesn't want a baby (child neglect be like). The TETRATAN lands on a deserted island inhabitated solely by octopi (squids and octopi evolved from the HYPERTITANS). So at least he has food.)

(many years later ooooooooo)

(time skip a FEW billion years, the TETRATAN has self-taught himself a lot of magic. He need to do this to survive, because his brother, after living for a few billion years in solitude, has reconsidered his old choice to send the TETRATAN off into the omniverse, and is now trying to kill him. You know you else is trying to kill the TETRATAN? MY MO-)

(You know who else is trying to kill the TETRATAN? DISCORD!!! Remember him? Yeah, turns out his death was staged and he was waiting for the next TETRATAN to come along because he wanted to make sure no new tyrant like ECHO would rise to power, so he decided killing the only other being powerful enough to do so would stop that from happening. Also everyone thinks DISCORD is a TETRATAN, but technically he's not. He still says he is though. The TETRATAN doesn't really know much about his past, because everything blew up, and the only people who DO know anything much about his past are trying to kill him. (This is actually why he goes by the name of his species, the TETRATAN, instead of his real name. He doesn't know his name. He can't read or speak in Titan language so he can't figure it out himself, either.) All three of them are trying to collect as many TETRA SHARDS as possible to become more powerful than the others, and it is chaotic. DISCORD is also the only one out of the three who doesn't know how to teleport. And the TETRATAN messes around with the inhabitants of the omniverse he created when he's bored, and lives in the seventh dimension, aka the void.)

(WE GOT THROUGH THE LORE)

(@myconidwitch how's that for lore)

[poppyknitt]

Thank you.

All of you have done so much good, I can’t even put it into words.

However, since I do have a bit of a story to tell, to sort of explain part of why I say this, and also to show how far I’ve come since I made this account, back in august, 2016, I will give you that.

In the last two weeks of March, 2017, I was given medications for my depression. To help them work, my anxiety medications’ dosage was halved.

The medications I was already on had a possible side effect of causing twitching, with symptoms similar to, but not unlike that of tic disorders like tourette syndrome and chronic tic disorder, so I might as well have just walked in and said “hey! why not fuck up my head a bit?” or something, because that’s basically the consequence of those six weeks of hell.

By the end, I couldn’t get through the day without at least one panic attack over my grades, band class, or a sudden inability to think anything but the repeating thought of “I can’t think, I can’t think, I can’t even fucking think!” (which is apparently a symptom of anxiety, so I literally was panicking over my own fucking anxiety-). So, that, and the fact that my adhd medicines (the other meds with that side effect I mentioned) weren’t working anymore, I was taken off of them before we could even see if they were helping me. That incident vastly increased the speed at which my anxiety has been getting worse, and on top of that, after only three or four weeks on them, I’d developed a tic that I would go on to blame on my adhd from then until I finally researched what tics actually were- A sort of thing triggered by immense levels of fidgeting that made me hand sort of... spazz out. I wasn’t, and still can’t control it. Thankfully, though, that tic doesn’t come up as much as the others I’ve developed over these past (almost) two years.

After that, in late august that year, a close friend i’d only met a few weeks before, in june or july, found my discord account, and started harassing me and another friend, because we were somewhat crushing on each other, and he also liked me. This is another thing I loosely refer to as “The Incident”, though, a lot of times, i just call it the Stalker Incident, because that’s what it felt like at the time.

My anxiety and depression tanked.

But that was also because that school year, although I tried to pull myself together to get it right, was the worst one of my life so far. My band teacher, whom I would later, in the late weeks of spring of this year, discover could be classified as an emotional/verbal abuser of not only me, but everyone in his classes, was finally in his second year of working at my school, and he was even worse than the year before. That was really bad to me, because I had his class two times a day, and, even, before the end of the first two semesters, in November and December, three times a day.

Basically, what he did to teach was he would constantly look for even the slightest of mistakes, and with the students who were unlucky enough to not be his favorites, a lot of times even just ignore whatever minor improvements you made. I was the worst affected, probably because I was already technically being physically and mentally abused at home (though, I didn’t know, and I still sorta deny that it was abuse at all, because sadly, even though it’s a fucked up fact, that’s just how you react to being abused by a family member...), although not as often, and also because of the two previous incidents that increased my anxiety a shit ton and tanked my depression a fuckload. It didn’t help that my parents constantly turned blind eyes to the case I had at home, and they didn’t have enough education on the symptoms of non-physical abuse on the mind to be able to recognize that something just wasn’t right. But, of course, because of a lot of the shit that happened previously during my hellish middle school life, I’d learned not to trust the word of the adults in my life, nor to trust them to take action whenever I expressed that something needed a drastic change, because it just wasn’t right. So, of course, I wasn’t just about to tell them my teacher was abusing me.

Anyways, so, yet again, I found that by the end of March, last year, I was right back in the same place as I had been during the six weeks- Not going a day without at least one or two minor panic attacks. At that point, I basically thought it was normal to have a tiny bit of panic every day, so I didn’t really stop to think “Oh, fuck, this is really bad, I should get help for this”, until like, late April or early May, when I broke down in literal tears because I couldn’t get even one little, 4-beat rhythm exactly right every single time I played it, and I was afraid I’d be yelled at again over it. Keep in mind, I was the best percussionist, out of 4, so he was probably way harder on me than the others for that reason. It was at that point that my friends started offering for me to help them take him to court a second time in two years over his treatment of the students. The first time he went to court was because he allegedly strangled an 8th grader back in the 2016-2017 school year. Charges were dropped on the first case for some reason (I blame misogyny and white supremacy, especially because this was in a small community of narcissistic, racist southern white people who were mostly conservatives, even if they didn’t think they were. if you can’t tell, i hate my hometown.), but I haven’t heard anything on the more recent one, since I transferred to a school in the neighboring city to escape my bullies and the hellish band teacher, both of which usually harassed me in the band room, but some of whom also extended to the other classes.

I had to quit percussion because I can’t go into the setup of a band room anymore without having a minor panic attack. Percussion was literally the only thing I consistently looked forwards to in middle school, because I could never rely on my friends to be there every day of every week in those three years, and I also barely actually had a chance to see any of them and enjoy their company. So, uh, yeah, I was pretty upset that I couldn’t bear the thought of playing in a band room anymore.

Once I was out of school that summer, everything changed for the better, because I had gotten accepted into the highschool I applied to. No more unknowingly abusive band teachers. Hell, not even any unintentionally abusive brothers, either, because he was going off to college. I don’t think I should have to explain how my brother was abusive, seeing as he literally didn’t seem to care about me at all until he got bored, and would proceed to hurt or terrorize me for fun, and laugh when I looked like I was going to have a heart attack, for fear of getting seriously injured. Sure, he didn’t give that many visible injuries, but that doesn’t mean shit in abuse cases. Abuse is abuse, no matter how many physical injuries are involved. There’s a reason there’s shit categorized as “emotional” and “verbal” abuse, dumbass. (sorry to those who knew that, I’m just trying to give the ignorant fucktards a little subtle warning before they send me an aggressive “oh, but it’s not really abuse if-“ bullshit ask or something. though, considering that they clearly wouldn’t know abuse when they see it, and think that just because there’s no visual physical wounds, it isn’t abuse, I doubt they’d even get that I was telling them to fuck off.)

So, basically, last summer was like, a godsend. The school year had left me truly hating myself for literally the first time ever in my life, and so, since my appearance was one thing I hated, I chose to dye my hair black, and get a new hairstyle, one I’d never had before (t was unintentionally not what I had imagined, but at the same time, I still liked it better than my usual). That saw my depression leaving me alone to the point that for the first time in literal years, I finally wouldn’t be able to say “I can’t remember what happiness feels like” without it being a lie anymore. I finally made progress to getting better, because I was nearly free of the things that plagued me in every year of my life up until then.

For the first time in my life, it seemed, I was finally being shown that I was capable of happiness, which, of course I had started to doubt before then.

School started.

I met @chaoticcrimsonrose , and, I also finally managed to fall in love without loosing the feelings a week or so later, all in the same day (I still am in love with that wonderful girl, though, we aren’t exactly a thing yet). I’m not gonna go into that, though, because that’s not the point.

The point of this next section is that Crimson reintroduced me to the Jacksepticeye and Markiplier fandoms. I had sort of been in them since 2013 or 2014, but I had only ever watched Mark’s five nights at freddy’s videos, and Jack’s undertale, as well as a few other videos from their channels on occasion (Plus, I didn’t actually realize there were fandoms for the boys until then). Since then, I’ve met so many wonderful, amazing people full of positivity and love for one another, and really, I honestly had the most fun in the last four or five months of 2018 that I think I’ve ever had. Hell, even now, and back in early October, when my depression spiked back up, and came back to shoot me straight through the head, I’m still enjoying myself every time I go on tumblr or discord, because of the wonderful people in their communities.

Between finding my passion in life, and finally being shown that I actually have talents, and the ones I was ashamed of, such as my art, were so much better than I ever even thought they were, everything started finally going right for me in the end of 2018. And, even if PMA doesn’t help me very much when I’m down, I still love the idea behind it, and I’ll continue to try to spread it, even when I’m down.

I love the communities Mark and Jack have started, and I love the people they’ve become. They’re basically what I’ve been aspiring to be for literal years- that kind, caring person, who doesn’t care for money, and would much rather you help out those in need, than give them free money. On top of that, they’re also amazing storytellers, and have such wild, cryptic imaginations. (I’ve actually been told by Crimson many times that I remind her of their creating/writing styles, and especially of the cryptic bullshit they do, which I find hilarious, because of how long I went without knowing about those facets of their personalities. Quite the coincidence, don’t you think?)

Anyways, to sum it up, I guess i’m just saying I’m so glad I found this place when I did; there literally couldn’t have been a better time for me to start meeting more people on the internet who truly care, that i’m not worried about telling all this to, because I know no one here will judge me for things that are out of my control. (And, well, considering how unpredictable the environment I’ve grown up in could get at any moment, I think it’s fair to say that I’ve sorta learned I don’t really have that much control over my life anymore (Thus the cryptic “i have no control” post i made yesterday or something, when i sorta started realizing just how little i actually do have, just to see if i freaked anyone out)-)

Thank you all,

for being so kind and welcoming and accepting.

Thank you all,

for being supportive and helpful to those who need input or hugs.

Thank you, all, so much,

for just being so wonderful. I don’t know where I would be without these communities.

(though, knowing how low I’ve sunken since thanksgiving, I might not’ve made it to 2019... so... yeah, really, huge thanks to all of you-)

———

Extra special appreciation:

@chaoticcrimsonrose - Thank you, so much, for being the person to show me these communities, and help me get more invested in things. You’re basically the kind of sibling I’ve always wished to have, and I couldn’t thank you more for being who you are so much. Also, another thing: The SDS really was your greatest idea. We’ve all only been on it for a few days, but... Holy shit, man, we’re all basically a family on there, and I love that. I don’t know what it would be like for me if we didn’t have the server, but honestly, I don’t want to know, either.

@rorald-spooks - Thank you, for being such a goofy doofus and always being there to cheer me up with your stupid cryptic dumbassery, no matter what I’m saying or feeling.

@startschantingpma - connie you’re a hecking idiot but ily because you’re awesome at what you do and deserve all the hugs-

@tiny-septic-puppet - Good god, man, we’ve come so far. I still vividly remember the day Crimson told me she’d been sending you my fics, and you’d been really enjoying them. That was so amazing to hear. But, like, to think we’ve now gotten to the point that you’re basically like a father to me is... really weird, but also fucking awesome. Ily, dad, don’t stop being epic.

@doodle-min : Mom, holy shit, you’re like, so amazing. I’m so glad we met, and I’m excited to go into 2019 with you and the rest of our wacky discord family. I really hope you keep up your awesome streak of the thing you mentioned, and I hope life keeps getting better and better for you; you deserve every bit of happiness.

@oliverissad - OLLIIIEEEEEE!!!! ILY!!! START TAKING BETTER CARE OF YOURSELF BECAUSE OTHERWISE IMMA HUNT YOU DOWN AND HUG YOU TILL YOU UN-SADIFY OKAY?! that goes for the rest of you doofuses too!!! >:v

@og-wilford-warfstache-discord - Fuck you! Don’t you “heh” me! Ily wilf okay don’t ever doubt that or imma take a page from moms book and imma slap you with cheese damn it-

@singular-dorito - UNC SCHNEP!! what? yeah idk i’m running out of unique things to say to appreciate people, whoops. but ye same goes for you as it does the rest of the fam-

and the rest of the SDS family, because i didn’t get any tumblr tags from the others- i lOVE AND APPRECIATE ALL OF YOU PLS DONT HURT YOURSELF OKAY YOU DESERVE TO BE HAPPY

@antis-loyal-puppet , as well as everyone on the jacksepticeye writing discord- Thank you all, for being so supportive of me, and being such a joy to have around. You’re all fuckin amazing, and I wouldn’t trade our friendships for the world.

And of course, I’d also like to thank Jack and Mark for being such amazing people, and being the whole reason I even know any of the dumb idiots I’ve tagged or mentioned in this post. You guys are killin the game!

<3

i love all of you idiots. stay as pos as you can. i know way too well how hard it can be to do that, so, just,,, keep on tryin, mates, you deserve every bit of happiness if you’re reading this, even if I’ve never even once spoken to you or interacted with your stuff.

[therunawaykind]

3AM Taylor Sloane x Reader

Taylor Sloane X Reader

Summary: Reader and Taylor used to have regular hookups. That was until Taylor blew up on social media and Reader decided to stop their friendship because Taylor wasn't acting like herself. But what happens when she calls at 3AM?

Warnings: insinuation of hookups past/present. Curse words.

A/N: Just an idea that came to me when I was listening to 3AM by HAIM and thought it fit Taylor's character well. Gif found it on Pinterest, not mine. Probably a lot of grammatical errors and typos that I couldn't spot. Enjoy!

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Taylor and Y/n had quite regular hook-ups before Taylor finally blew up and started over-exaggerate her whole personality and started with all her hippie clothes and shit. Since high school, they had been friends. Needless to say when their friendship/relations stopped it hurt both of them even if none of them showed it.

When they had their regular hook-ups, it was always exactly at 3 AM Taylor would call Y/N.. why specifically at 3 AM every single time who knows, but as many times as Y/N said this would be the last time they always caved and went back to Taylor…there was just that something about her honestly. Just as soon as you’d create your distance from her or really well start floating away from her in small pieces just as soon as you thought you were out you were right back into her web.

Tonight, was no different.

You had gotten back a few hours ago from a night out with friends so needless to say your head was spinning ever so slightly. You can hear on your bedside table was the vibrations and slight sound coming from your phone from the constant ringing. You start to sit up on your bed groggily and search for your phone on the nightstand, that’s when you see the Caller ID and her picture showing up. You mutter to yourself “why is she calling me now it’s been months.” You push your bedsheets off of you and swing your legs off the side of your bed. Your phone starts ringing again and you breathe out through your mouth and say to yourself “Have, I lost my mind?”

You answer and immediately hear a weirdly very excited Taylor considering the time “Y/N L/N!” you hang your head backwards “Taylor how you doing? What are you doing calling me again at 3 AM, we haven’t had this type of occurrence in a while.” You could hear her giggling at the other end of the phone and at this hour of the night you weren’t up for her shenanigans “Taylor Sloane tell me why you phoned or so help me God you’ll never be able to contact me again.” That very quickly shut her up. “okay okay okay… well first off I miss being around you and hanging out with you.” You tried to cut her off “Taylor you know why…” she just continued talking seemed like she didn’t even know you started talking…. which really wasn’t a new occurrence. There was faint tapping coming from Taylor's side of the phone. Taylor murmured, “I just want to hang out with you and wanna ask if you want to come over to me.” You scoff and throw your head back you can’t help but think to yourself yet again, have I actually lost my mind, why am I still on the phone with Taylor.

Before you can answer Taylor comments “I know we don’t have to meet but I think it’d be fun if we could.” You stare straight out the window where all you could see was the slight breeze through the trees with the moon staring directly back at you. Taylor talked again before you gave her your answer whispering as if telling you a secret “look you and I don’t really need to meet but like you just make me feel good.” As you heard Taylor say that your breath hitched and very quickly cleared your throat, you just knew from your reaction Taylor was smiling on the other end because of your reaction. Before you even realised you had uttered the words “yea sure I’ll be over soon, no worries.” Just as soon as you had claimed you’d be over she hung up, you took your phone down from your ear and just stared blankly at it for a few minutes too many things going through your head.

You threw your phone on the bed as you got up to have a quick shower and got into something slightly more presentable. You walked downstairs and out to your car and started to drive off to your house. You were a few minutes into driving to her house when she rang again, you bit your lip and answered, “Taylor, what’s up I’m on my way?” you could hear the excitement in her voice “oh no that’s okay, I was just ringing to make sure you knew the pin to put in to open my gate?” You squinted your eyes “ehhh I’m pretty sure I remember it… if I don’t I’ll send you a text outside to tell me, okay?” she hummed in agreement and hung up, you chuckled and stared at the phone with your mouth agape and mumbled, “alright goodbye to you too.”

You pulled up outside her house and could already hear her dog Rothko barking from her house and you smiled to yourself. You got out of the car and closed the door harder than expected which made Rothko worse. You squeezed your eyes shut and mumbled a sorry. You spent a few minutes outside getting your bearings and put the pin into the keypad and saw the light go green and you laughed to yourself and muttered “ha I still remember it go me and my great memory.” As you pushed open the gate Rothko ran over to you jumping up at you. You bent down and started petting him “hey boy it’s been a while I know, I missed you too.”

Taylor coughed and cleared her throat; you raised your head in the direction of the noise and smirked “Hey stranger.” You walked over slowly to Taylor and stopped right in front of her, staring at each other in silence for a while. You decided to break the silence and point at her and motion your finger between her and you “this is the last time we’re doing this.” you saw Taylor grin and start laughing “Y/n L/n you said that last time, now we’re here again.” Before you could say anything she grabbed your collar and kissed you dragging you inside her house.

Was this gonna be the last time? definitely not. Did you know that? Nope. Did you try to convince yourself it was going to be? Certainly.

Two things you were 100% on was that it was going to be a long night and Taylor Sloane was a person you would never be able to forget and leave behind.

[argentgames]

The Two Factions—Red Embrace: Paradisus

Sal describes the two factions of Red Embrace: Paradisus—NetiZen and the Lucaci.

Red Embrace: Paradisus

♦ A VAMPIRE NARRATIVE RPG ♦

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THE FACTIONS (ft. Salvador)

We’re taking a brief break from character introductions for something a little bit different today!

We’ve recruited Salvador, your first friend in the vampire underworld, to give us a brief rundown of the two main factions in Red Embrace: Paradisus. We’re quite fortunate that he took time out of his busy schedule to oblige us.

(Note: The following interview is an edited version of dialogue that will appear in next month’s Alpha build update.)

The NetiZen and the Lucaci Group

“You wanna know about the factions, huh?” Scratching his beard, Sal sniffs and twists his mouth to one side, apparently musing on your question.

“I’ll give you a little rundown, but you’re better off talking to the people who run the damn things.” He heaves a sigh, although you sense he’s not as disgruntled as he’s trying to be. “I wish they had info handouts or some shit, would make my job a lot easier.

“Well, first off, you have the NetiZen folks. Their name’s cheesy enough to induce cardiac arrest, but they’re smart—so smart it kinda scares me.” Sal shudders theatrically.

“They’re mostly young vampires, all wild about technology. They think it’s the future for our kind, our only hope of survival, that kind of shit.”

How do you think they’d react to MC?

“Eh, I’d say if MC makes a good enough impression, NetiZen would probably let ‘em in. They’re a lot friendlier to new vampires than old ones.”

Do they have a political ideology of some kind?

“Uh…maybe.” He doesn’t seem convinced. “I think they’re more about spiritual stuff than politics…oh yeah, and they like rave parties a lot. Does that tell you about their politics?” A little snicker.

“The other big corpse club out there is the Lucaci Group—though most people just call ‘em the Lucaci. It’s Romanian, I think. Really thematic, don’t you agree?

“Now, the Lucaci’s a bunch of traditional types, mostly older vampires, who’re filthy fucking rich. They basically own the Strip, and they’ve got a huge chunk of Vegas in their pockets.

“The group’s run by three dead folks…” He snaps his fingers a few times, then lets out a resigned sigh. “The names, uh, escape me. They’re weird people, but I gotta hand it to them—they do their best to keep the locals happy.”

And what would they think of MC?

Sal ponders this for a moment, squinting slightly. “That’s tricky. The Lucaci would probably let MC work for ‘em, but they’d really have to bring their A-game.”

Do they enforce any rules on other vampires, since they’re so powerful?

“You’d think they would, but for the most part, they don’t bother.” He smirks wryly. “Probably because it’s easier for them to just throw money at whatever problems people cause. Enforcing rules takes a lot of time and money. Not worth it.

“They do have a beef with the NetiZen kids though, and vice versa, so just be aware of that. It’s not open war or anything, but if you play nice with one…the other will probably tell you to go fuck yourself.

“But yeah, that’s the factions.” Sal claps his hands together with satisfaction. “Once all this chaos blows over, maybe MC will join one. Or maybe they won’t.”

He pauses, his eyes glimmering devilishly in the light. “Just a roll of the dice.”

✞———————❖———————✞

Stay tuned for more character introductions in the following weeks! There is much still to uncover about the strange occurrences of 1999…

Dev Stream

Tomorrow, we’ll be doing a dev stream at our usual time: 0730PST/1030EST! We hope you’ll stop by to join us. :)

Questions or Comments?

Feel free to send in questions about RE:P and any AG/GAG games (or dev-related questions)! Our Ask Box is always open.

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[rpbetter]

Reblog Etiquette (and ships)

At this point, we all know about “reblog karma” and “reblogging from source.” Though, I say that...and am questioning it. You should fucking know this by now, but in the event you don’t, let me define that shit for you.

Reblog Karma: the RPC’s oldest attempt at keeping people from clogging notifications and using others as meme resources. Essentially, don’t reblog a meme from a mutual unless you are sending them something from that meme first. Not all blogs practice it, or practice it the same way, please see their rules.

Reblogging from Source: another effort to stop being used as a meme/aesthetics resource. Many RPers would like you to reblog quotes, aesthetics, and memes from their source (original post location or the meme/aesthetics/quotes resource blog they got it from), even if you are sending them a meme. This is especially applicable when not interacting with the RPer.

Okay, that’s out of the way.

There is more to Reblog Etiquette than this!

And, when that etiquette is nonexistent, it almost always deals with a RPer’s ship. Mentioning ship partners and/or tagging ships on a reblog from another RPer, not removing that RPer’s mentions or tags, and even dropping a mention or outright RPing in the comments of another RPer’s reblog.

Don’t reblog from another mun and tag your ship or mention (@) your ship partner(s).

Don’t reblog a post with someone else’s mention still stuck to it.

Don’t reblog a post and leave the previous mun’s tags still in the tags.

Don’t go into the comments on someone’s post and mention your ship partner(s).

Don’t roleplay in the comments of someone else’s post.

None of this is alright, I have no idea what would make anyone think this is appropriate reblog etiquette, but it very much is not. It’s incredibly rude and lazy. Because I know that many people have similar ship aesthetics and so on, I’m not saying you shouldn’t reblog something for your own ships that a mutual has for theirs. (That’s a whole other in depth conversation we’ll have later.)

I’m saying that this is how you should be going about it:

Reblog from the source.

-What if there is no source because it’s deactivated, or there is another reason why I can’t access it? 

Go into the post’s notes. At some point, damn near every post that could be used as an aesthetic, quote, or prompt for a ship (and RP in general) has been reblogged by at least one source blog. Look for RP meme, aesthetic, help, and other resource blog urls. If you cannot find one of those, look for urls that are general resource-style blogs. Personal blogs reblog aesthetics etc. as well, and there are many such resource blogs out there. -If you’re uncomfortable reblogging from a personal, that’s tough shit; I hate to break it to you, but most of your resources came from personal blogs. Deal with it, or don’t reblog anything you can’t find filtered through a RP specific resource.

-- “But this takes time/effort lol I just want to use it for my ship.” Again, tough shit. Sometimes, it does take energy not to be rude and do the right the thing. In all honesty, it’s fairly rare that doing the right thing is effortless, even when it’s something as simple as RP. Grow up.

--- You went through the notes, but there’s no appropriate blog to reblog from, now what?

Just because it’s a rare occurrence doesn’t mean it’s impossible. I know this one isn’t, I’ve had it happen too! My choice was to not reblog it at all, I just sent the link to my ship partner privately instead. If you don’t have that kind of friendship, you really wanted it on the dash, or another reason, you are now left with one option, and you’re not going to like it. Message the mutual you want to reblog from. Politely, explain that you’d like to reblog the post for your ship, and ask if they’re comfortable with it. No guilting, begging, or general, weird ass rudeness. If they decline, accept it just as politely, thank them for their response. If they accept, thank them, and especially if this isn’t a mutual you interact with much, be sure you’re showing them continued support on the dash by reading and liking/commenting on their headcanon posts and other appropriate material. (You should be anyway.)

Remove any mentions present (@’s)

Seriously, this is incredibly rude! Yet, with the typical lack of self-reflection and awareness of others in the RPC here, I see it multiple times a day on my dash. Not just with RP-blog-to-RP-blog interaction either, I also see RPers reblogging from personals and leaving their mentions attached. (I see it the other way around too, but I’m not here to school personal blogs.) For all the excessive emphasis RPers put on appearance, you’d think they’d want to get rid of something that looks this sloppy, but no. Not if it takes one extra second of effort!

-I know that xkit’s editable reblogs tends to break whenever tumblr gives us a new, exciting, hideous, insulting, limitation, I mean update, but come the fuck on. It is also one of the quickest things to regain functionality, so, maybe you should save the reblog to drafts, be following xkit’s blog for updates, and edit it once there has been a patch. If it’s worth it to you, it’s worth a short wait. When it’s working, you can easily remove that mention with editable reblogs.

--If you’re going to use being mobile as an excuse, or if you don’t want to wait on it/don’t use xkit, again, go to the source. And, also again, if that isn’t an option, you can find where it has been reblogged by an appropriate blog at some point in its history, sans mentions. Reblog from there.

Do not reblog someone else’s tags (#)

Some people have their xkit set up to reblog automatically with the previous poster’s tags. While that can be useful in some situations, I can think of, very literally, no situation this is appropriate for an RPer to use. If you have this set up on your personal/resource blog/wtfe and your RP blog is a sideblog (or you are using certain methods of having your browser open to two separate blog accounts where your xkit settings are transferring over), it’s up to you to delete the tags on these posts.

-It takes maybe one full second to click in the tag field and hit your delete button a few times to clear it. Do that. It’s never, ever, appropriate to keep someone’s ship, muse, verse, or other personalized tags attached to a reblog.

--If you are a personal blog reading this somehow, maybe you’re wanting to get into RP, please take note of this. This is one of the many reasons why most RPers will not interact with personals. We don’t like you reblogging an aesthetic post and keeping our tags on it.

In the case of both situations, not only is it rude and lazy, it’s fucking with someone else’s tags and privacy. Most RPers don’t want their content showing up in generally searchable tags, it’s one of the reasons that personalizing tags came about. Furthermore, if I’m on my dash and click a mutual’s custom tag for aesthetics, verses, ships, and so on, it’s now going to come up with instances of those tags on someone else’s blog as well.

Delete the fucking tags if they auto-populate. Don’t use someone else’s custom tags of your own volition either.

“Subverting” reblogs to mention in comments is a hard no, too

-So, you don’t want to reblog the post, but do want to @ your ship partner(s) in it? There’s no way to do that without being rude and strange. To be honest, this is even worse than just reblogging and tagging your ship.

I may not be the OP, but you came onto a post on my blog, one very likely tagged for my ships and/or having my ship partners mentioned on it, and commented on it mentioning your ship partner. It’s every bit as offensive and more so than someone reblogging from me and using it for a ship I’m not a part of. I don’t know what’s worse, when that other mun is a ship partner, casual mutual who doesn’t interact, or a writing partner but not ship partner. It’s all deeply fucked up. No one’s RP blog is here for your use like this!

--You’re also not subverting anything. I think the idea is to be polite or go unnoticed. People seem to lack a basic grasp on how tumblr works; you get notifications on reblogged posts you are not the OP of when someone comments on them just like you get a notif when someone likes it. The only way to genuinely be secretive about this would be to comment on it from the source or a resource blog. They will get the notification.

If you are commenting on, liking, or reblogging a post you see on the dash, the person having reblogged it, putting it there for you to encounter, will be notified of your interaction with it.

---What I’m saying, just in case it isn’t abundantly clear, for the third time now: you’re not being slick. Your mutuals will see that you weirdly @’ed someone in a comment on their reblog. They know.

----The appropriate behavior is to do just as advised in the above points: GO TO THE SOURCE. If no source exists, find an appropriate resource blog in the notes. You may then, and only then, give that mention in a comment.

Frankly, it’s still weird, and I would recommend you just reblog it from the source to interact with it. There is always the option of sending it to the intended party by way of tumblr’s messenger or linking the post in an off tumblr messenger like discord.

I say this because it hasn’t escaped my attention that the only time I have this issue on my own RP blog is when the imagery or text is fucking filthy. As in, Other Mun didn’t want something that sexual, kinky, violent, and so on to be posted to their own blog. You need to grow up if that’s your deal. Like writing smut or violence, if you need to do it in private only, you’re obviously not adult enough to handle the topic.

Keep your roleplay where it belongs; in your inbox and threads

-It’s not appropriate to start up RP in the comments of another RPer’s reblogged ship aesthetic. (Or anything else, this just happens to be the most common.) It’s incredibly odd and offensive to look in your notifications and see that a mutual and their ship partner are flirting, or outright fucking, in the comments of a post you reblogged for your ship.

It’s just as awkward feeling and offensive when someone reblogs the post and begins full-blown RP on it. It’s one thing when it’s a post originating from an RP resource blog, or when it’s kept to something like a mention and a short line that your writing partner can start their original post in inspiration of. But...

--You know how I said above that auto-copying tags thing is one of the reasons why RPers are iffy about personal blogs? Well, this is one of the reasons why personal blogs think RPers are exceedingly weird members of fandom that need to be excluded and devalued. It’s odd, especially if you’ve never encountered RP, to see someone reblogging your quote, moodboard, or other original post and RPing on it.

Listen, we all need to RP some crack and commentary sometimes, but it’s best left in the tags or put into a new post.

---Instead of RPing (not sorry, especially if it is smut) on that post, link the image to show in a new post, and go from there.

Please remember to be polite about artists, including photographers and gifers, when you do this! Tumblr automatically gives the source of imagery when you use a link to display the picture, that’s why I recommended doing that instead of saving, then re-uploading the image as though it is your own. If you’re going to do that, even if it’s just silliness going on, give mention of the artist, photographer’s blog/site, or gifer’s blog in the tag or below the image.

Tumblr is deeply unfriendly to artists of all sorts, don’t be fuel that. When you upload artwork for the sake of RP, again, even if it’s just crack, that’s literally violating what artists ask people not to do; you’re reposting their art without permission and credit.

[bigskydreaming]

In a mood and I’m trying not to be, but oof. Not easy at the moment. Real life stresses are kicking my butt and I’m decidedly limited in resources for addressing that at the moment, so might as well get this off my chest, lol. Already lost the usual fifty followers or so I lose every single time I post about stuff the way I did the other day, so what’s some more, y’know?

So earlier today I tried to get my mind off things with some fic, and happened across one I hadn’t read before that promised Jason and Dick talking things out and bonding. Halfway through I sighed and went oh, this is familiar, and skipped to the bottom to check the end notes and comments to see if there was any mention of this next part, but nope. The reason for the sigh was it took me about halfway into the fic to realize that it was blatantly inspired by my post about what if Jason was missing some memories from his death/resurrection and the Pit, like specifically the ski trip they took, stuff like that. Now I’m not so egotistical as to think nobody but me has certain ideas, but its fairly easy for me to recognize when someone is basing something off a post of mine because of specific turns of phrases that I use and like, they hit ten or so bullet points from my post without missing a one. Like, there’s parallel evolution and similar ideas, and then there’s going down a check list, y’know?

And don’t get me wrong....I don’t mind people basing stuff of my posts, being inspired by them, etc. I WANT that. I’m GLAD to have that happen.

The part I mind is the way this all ties back into my interaction with fandom as a whole....and this fandom’s interaction with me. Which I don’t tend to hear NEARLY as much about as I tend to have people giving me shit about my impact on fandom....but ONLY the negative impact.

In the four years or so that I’ve been active in this fandom, I can think of only three people who have given me some kinda shout out for being the basis of one of their fics. Three people. And in that time I’ve come across literal dozens of fics that I am almost certain can trace their way back to popular posts of mine. There’s the post about Jason’s memories and the ski trip for one - this fic isn’t an isolated occurrence, I’ve found a good half a dozen or so I feel fall into the same pattern. There’s fics based off my posts about how fucked up the blame Dick got for Spyral was, with my certainty based on the fact that I know I’m the only fucking person who ever brought up various key phrases like “Bruce not having an extraction plan for Dick’s highly dangerous undercover op, leaving him stranded when Bruce got/(chose) amnesia.” I made a big deal about that in a few posts because of the fact I NEVER saw that particular element raised in any fics, and a couple months after I started including that bit regularly, I was seeing the words ‘without an extraction plan’ in every other new post Spyral fic. That’s not a coincidence.

There’s been stuff that included bits and phrasings from my post about Dick and Jason being partners who focused on helping kids who had been abused specifically....oh wait, no, my bad. The two fics I’m thinking of there lifted straight up entire lines from that post but just made it about Jason and TIM doing that instead, despite like.....the entire basis of that headcanon stemming from Dick’s juvie origin but whatever. There’s been stuff based on juvie posts of mine, stuff based on posts I’ve made about Mirage, there’s been stuff based on the post about Jason looking into why Dick was undercover as a mob enforcer and then Renegade, there’s been stuff clearly inspired by my headcanons about Jason calling Dick for advice after the Garzonas case. I could go on. There’s a fucking LOT.

I don’t try to give myself too much credit but I’m not unaware of being a loud voice in this fandom and that having an impact. And like I said, I’m not adverse to inspiring people to make their own stuff based off an idea they initially saw me present. That’s fine. People should feel free to do that. My problem is that none of this exists in a vacuum. It exists in a fandom where I regularly get people lecturing me on my presentation, people hyping up how negative I make fandom, my condescension, my anger, my hostility, etc, etc. 

But the thing I never see is any awareness whatsoever that like....dudes, I’m literally just a guy on the internet. And that goes two ways. Yeah, I have an impact on people, but they have one on me too. And I’m tired and frustrated by it being acted like this is a one way street and everyone is just helpless victims of my bullying, while meanwhile SOME OF THE EXACT SAME PEOPLE GIVING ME CRAP FOR MY NEGATIVITY are ACTIVELY adding to their own fics with stuff that I JUST posted about.

And like, I see people vagueblogging about the negativity on their dashes and its impact on fandom right after I have a Dick Grayson rant blow up and get a few hundred notes......but its acted like I DID that to fandom, that’s my negativity and mine alone when its like....y’know, if you’re not following me yourself, and this stuff is still on your dash, you uh....have to be following people who reblog my negative posts for some reason or another. And given that there are obviously reasons you follow THOSE people, maybe instead of worrying about what I’M doing all the time, you can spare a thought or two for the fact that I don’t have any power to make people reblog anything, and for whatever reason, something about my oh so negative post resonated with those people reblogging it onto your dash, which also kinda suggests it wasn’t negative in THEIR eyes, but was actually a kind of validation of thoughts or feelings they already had?

Trust me, there’s no mind control ray at work here. This mood is also brought to you by the cricket sounds that come every time I fucking BEG people to reblog and signal boost posts I make about rape/abuse fandom trends and depictions from my POV as a survivor, specifically. Like I mentioned, I LOSE followers every time I bring that stuff up. It doesn’t benefit me in any way whatsoever, in fact my notes tend to go comparatively radio silent for a good couple weeks after I go off on one of those jaunts, because idk, people don’t want THEIR mutuals and followers to think they agree with some of my oh so controversial stances?

Actually, I say idk, but I do know is the thing, because people actually go on anon and tell me they appreciate me posting stuff like this, and its like.....that....doesn’t actually make me feel good? Because I never expect any single person in particular to reblog me, but when I say crickets after I post on those topics, I mean CRICKETS. I’m lucky if I can get five reblogs on those posts in total, and those are usually all from the same people. It actually kinda sucks knowing that people agree with me and what I have to say there, but they won’t put it on their own blogs because this fandom is so fucking STEEPED in its views, they don’t want to risk their friendships or back-and-forths with certain popular fandom authors by rocking the boat.

Because meanwhile I’m making myself target practice for the people who really would like me to shut up on certain topics but are too cowardly to ever confront me directly about why they dislike what I have to say there, in the vain hope that other people might finally even just START to pass some of that on even for consideration....because I can make waves by myself just by being loud and consistent, but I can’t do shit to actually make CHANGE without other people agreeing in PUBLIC so that fandom is forced to confront the fact that no, certain opinions aren’t just one loud asshole being annoying, there’s an actual viewpoint here that people actually have in greater numbers than we realized and we DON’T have as much of a monopoly on this topic as we thought.

I have anons who give me shit accusing me of driving off certain authors by making this fandom not fun for them anymore, when like, I never even fucking INTERACTED with the authors in question. Some of the names I’m accused of driving off I don’t even KNOW. I’m called an ‘abusive survivor shaming cunt’ with zero irony or self-awareness that they’re literally doing the exact same thing because they don’t like the stance *I* take as a survivor posting about how ‘some survivors use dark fic/rape fantasy to cope’ shouldn’t be treated as a monolithic defense of such things if it leads directly into the same kind of survivor shaming other people view criticism of such fic as being in the first place.

I’ve had to unfollow mutuals because I post about how reblogging posts about purity culture is a direct fucking slap into the face to people like me whose stances on fandom culture are directly based on our own personal experiences and the intersection those have with various popular fandom takes.....like you don’t have to agree with all my takes obviously, but if you can’t see how framing a naive pursuit of ideological purity as the only possible reason people object to certain fandom trends when I’m literally standing right here saying no actually, the way these fandom trends impact me is the reason for me saying the things I say when I say “here’s how this fandom trend impacts me”.....like.....c’mon. 

And I’ve had mutuals unfollow me because despite following me because they liked my takes on social justice issues THEY care about, I just ‘post too much about what’s really just a personal issue’ and has no larger social relevance whatsoever, obviously. LOL. (Oh and this of course has nothing to do with them getting friendly with various popular authors on discord, who happen to be vocal about ‘disapproving’ of any fic criticism whatsoever. Just FYI, there’s a reason I haven’t followed anyone new or made any new mutuals in like....a year. I have my reasons for being....not quick about that).

I get condescended to constantly about not minding the tags, and then radio silence when I list literal examples of ways in which people haven’t tagged things correctly, tagged things at all, or literally used the tags in an attempt TO trigger people they just don’t like. 

And meanwhile, allllllll of this keeps happening while the general narrative is I’m this loud asshole guy with zero concern about anything but his own personal likes or dislikes and who makes fandom a negative place that’s unwelcoming in general. And with basically zero mention of all the ways in which I’ve contributed to this fandom, the amount of content I’ve made that has DIRECTLY inspired people, and the productive conversations I’ve started which have resulted in people actually changing the way they approach various characters or dynamics in fics.

Its THAT part that bugs me, specifically.

Look, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again now.....I’m not anyone’s victim. Negative fandom interactions are negative fandom interactions. All this complaining I’m doing here - lol, that’s all it is. I’m venting. I’m pissed off and I think its relevant to a greater fandom dynamic or tendencies a lot of people unknowingly or consciously reinforce, and so I’m just fucking SAYING it because while its not something I EXPECT this post will do much to change, if at all, I would still like it to change so any effort towards that end is still better than no effort at all...hence, my posting this rather than bottling it up so at least people have it to consider. 

If you don’t agree with it, if you don’t like that it exists at all, if it ruins your day to have to consider whether or not you or people you know or even like are active participants in what someone else is describing as y’know....fairly day-ruining in its own way? Hit that unfollow, that block, that make new text post button of your own and have your own rant about what a douchebag I am.

Literally all I’m trying to express is like.....fa*ndom’s got a lot to say about the stuff I have to say about fandom, but like....this is a two way interaction. A lot of people make a big deal about MY impact (again, JUST the negative though, lol) but I don’t ever see anyone ever addressing anyone else about hey maybe you could spare a thought or two about YOUR impact for a change as well.

I mean, what if....just maybe...what if.....a lot of my behavior or attitude has a lot to do with how people approach or talk about me BEFORE that display of attitude or certain behavior? Weirdly....I feel like maybe something that could then have a transformative effect on the kind of behavior or attitude people dislike from me....is.....them acknowledging or addressing things they might have done to prompt certain responses from me?

I don’t actually like being whiny or negative or down in general, just to be clear? If I see something I have a problem with or think could use change or improvement, I say so - but I pretty much always put an effort into expressing both WHY and HOW I think possible change could look - because I’m not generally interested in being negative for the sake of just being negative. I just....want things to be better. That’s not an obsession with purity or perfection, btw, I will NEVER understand how people think that survivors of rape and abuse (which include a lot more ‘antis’ than anyone else seems to want to acknowledge) and the like EVER expects perfection or thinks that the world will ever produce that - lol no I’m actually pretty clear that things being perfect is pointless, I’m just interested in BETTER.

But I mean, I like being goofy and silly and also analytical and contemplative and also creative and spontaneous. I like lots of things. I like lots of moods. I like producing, creating, generating, interacting, engaging, I like a million things more than I like THIS kind of mood, THIS kind of post.

But I’m just not someone who is content to sit and stew in that sort of thing when I know full well that the problem does not actually stem from something broken or flawed inside of me, because I’m also someone who does believe very strongly in periodic bouts of self-reflection and honest self-assessment.....so that I can change things about myself when and where I feel necessary. But this also has the effect of me also being VERY aware of when the problem is not internal, but actually just me having a perfectly valid reaction or emotional response to outside stimulus. Aka fandom’s interaction with me, every bit as much as my interaction with fandom.

So....posts like this. I’ll do my usual rituals, get myself back onto my preferred trains of thought soon enough on my own, because ultimately that is all I can control and just because I make posts like this doesn’t mean I ever EXPECT any specific result - or a result at all - to come from it. 

But, y’know, sue me for being hopeful.

I know. What an ass am I?

[invitedeath]

SEPHIROTH                          — relationship & plotter call.

hello lovely isolians! it’s been actually ages since i made my first one, or my second one, so i’m coming back with new vigour & hopefully some new ideas to tempt you all into friendship ( or...enemy...ship) with sephiroth!

so liking this post means that you are 100% down with interacting with me in some fashion! ways this might happen may be... → me sending you im’s / tumblr asks to plot or chat! i can be quite a talkative person as a forewarning, as i love discussing rp things as well as getting to know my rp partner!  → if we are already friends on discord or twitter, i might message you that way to ask you about plots or ideas or to run things by you. → exchanging ask memes / meme day things that might be a bit more personal than a general sentence meme. → possible random starters or musings dedicated to your muse, sometimes i get sudden inspiration for these things! i will always check first that you’re okay with taking on a new thread, but yes this is for just... if i get inspired & want to put something up for you! → general tomfoolery and shenanigans in character ( and ooc if you like )

you can contact me via the im system here, by the /ask feature or you can ask for my discord/twitter if you prefer those. just let me know. discord is the most private however so we’d need to chat a bit more elsewhere first just for my comfort! i am in the isola discord sever however so we can totally talk in that server for a bit too!

FRIENDS.

↪ honestly friendships aren’t typically on the agenda for him. he is arrogant beyond belief and considers everyone to be weaker than him or to some degree unworthy of his time or energy. he really does not have any interest emotionally in anyone besides himself, instead he is far more likely to use and discard people when they are no longer needed. HOWEVER, in 2020 sephiroth underwent quite a big character development stage, essentially his long-term goal came to a head and it backfired pretty back when he got all his powers back, so while he’s super strong again now, he’s also semi-content (i guess) with living in isola for a while, if only so he can figure out how the multiverse works (meta, i know). he talks to people now (wow!) and engages in mostly philosophical conversations, about... life. death. etc.

↪  i am down to... vague villain-alliance type deals with fellow power players here. he wont consider your muse a friend, but rather a pawn or even a means to an end, that end being his goal of generally using this island for his means, apologies. preferably the intellectual, over-powered, edgy types will probably gravitate towards him more, but i’m willing to throw anything at the wall to see what sticks. he’s not a nice guy, by any means, but it would be interesting to see how he has to play the game here to his advantage until he regains powers. i especially would like to interact with other villains who are kind of just chilling, maybe they’re veterans in spirale also and they can share a glass of wine over watching all the citizens running around like ants. we could also do a murder if you are into that. 

↪ there are some cases where he might engage in conversation with non-villain types and these would likely be far more dialogue-heavy threads including metaphorical topics or debates. the conversations of life, death, mortality, good vs evil, frailty of existence, legacy, power and corruption, calamities, birthright and betrayal are just some of the topics possible to arise in discussion. that being said, whilst these topics would be of interest to him, the character themselves must meet his standard of what he considers worthy of his time eg. those just willing to argue with him will bore him whereas someone curious to his nature might be treated to an actual conversation. over time this has opened up into most people being capable of talking to him. he has less patience for over-eager plucky types, but anyone with a respectable manner who likes talking a lot will probably find an interesting conversation partner in this... ONLY SLIGHTLY CHILLED sephiroth. he’s not totally chill, he’s just a lil chill.

↪ warriors, outcasts, villains, intellectuals, fellow puppet-master type villains especially, those he ‘befriended’ in past events, perhaps even neighbours to his castle would all be likely connections. friends of those he has worked alongside or met, or those wishing to seek great power and know of his existence might seek him out also, but yes... ““““friends”“““ is a very difficult term for him. he’s getting better.

→ his most recent developments see him as a far more casual version of his canon self, over a year of living as close to a “domestic life” as possible have meant that whilst he is aloof and cold, he is also far more likely to be out and about, buying wine at some creepy gas station at 4:30am for example. he chats when he’s in the mood and might even stick around to cause some chaos for the sake of boredom eating him alive. so whilst he is still very much a dangerous inhabitant here in spirale, sephiroth is currently Domesticated somewhat. 

ENEMIES.

↪ heroes of all shapes and sizes might feel threatened by the ominous presence of a monster who seems inclined to side with chaos as opposed to peace. he’s not outright starting fires here but he is present in the more morbid moments of isolian discourse, an omen of death lingering on the sideline. he has his plans and he may just mock you with them, but in general since he does and WILL cut down npcs ( or players ) alike, he makes for the perfect villain. BE WARY he has all of his powers unlocked and knows the island well. fighting him would not guarantee your victory, especially if you are a freshly applied character.

in feb 2020 he almost brought chaos to spirale too so i’m sure anyone holding a grudge or wary of a potential threat like that would be very aggro towards him.

↪ he has traumas. plenty of them. some of them originate from labs and white coats, meaning he might just view you as an enemy if you’re a scientist or someone who dabbles in human experimentation. his reasons are his own, but let’s just say that if you consider him a good candidate for poking and prodding with scientific equipment, you may just lose an arm.

↪ i LOVE fight threads especially really gritty, bloody types. i would prefer to plot these out so we know what’s going on beforehand, but feel free to develop these with me honestly i love a good old classic villain hero showdown. he’s less likely to get into these without a good reason but if we do one, the winner is randomly determined via generator to make it fair if your character is also uncapped!

→ police/law enforcers/general crime stoppers might remember him for causing a bit of trouble in the past! insert how bad me be gif. try and ??? get him to apologise i guess. arresting sephiroth sounds like the plot of a funny movie. 

LOVERS.

↪ this man has a bf now, can you believe it? 2021...isola gay rights. 

MISC.

↪ pawns and such would be a fun dynamic later. his general presence is pretty terrifying, so it wouldn’t be a stretch if you have an appropriate muse for them to be fearful enough to carry out some little tasks for him. this might be more common later on, but i’m down to discussion for it currently!

↪ places you may find him can include:                 ↪ near his residence ( personal housing; castle in the mistwood  )                 ↪ fibonacci ward ( levels 3 and 4 especially due to the museums and things. but also the lowest levels, he tends to wander around there as if searching for something... feel free to try and figure out what it is )                 ↪ golden ward ( the university if only to borrow books from the library, he can read there for days at a time without sleep or food. he reads all kinds of things, both fiction and non fiction. )                 ↪ archimedes ward ( pretty much everywhere in this ward, it’s my favourite. he enjoys music and art sometimes. hit me with that biblical shit. )                ↪ the mistwood ( 100% down to be that cryptic creature that leads you from your path to your likely doom )                ↪ the city of yesteryear ( typically the underground areas, just investigating really. any strange occurrences would likely draw him there as would any presence of a strong power. )                ↪ atop skyscrapers, looming at the ‘edge’ of the world we can currently explore, typically more active at night, perhaps at the scene of a murder / attack ( plotted ), if he’s feeling extra ballsy he might be found in a bar but its very rare. very VERY rare, wandering broken buildings, invading scientific facilities or buildings. he’s not going to be found in busy, socially strained areas basically.

↪ i’m down for any ideas you might have too for plots so feel free to just message me if nothing here caters!

STATS PAGE | APPLICATION | PLOTTING PAGE

[interrogatormentors]

Event Twelve: Underhanded Tactics

Eridan woke up in the medbay, a common occurrence these nights. His whole head throbbed, and he slid his tongue along the roof of his cotton-dry mouth. He cracked open an eye only to screw it shut again, head panging again as a jolt of fear rattled through his gut. The phantom scent of antiseptic teased at his memory, the sound of hair clippers and the saw discordant and lingering as the Empress crooned at his side. You are my confidante, she’d said. You must keep my secrets close, locked tight so no one can pull them from you. Stop crying, guppy, brain surgery ain’t so bad. 

He took a deep breath through his nose, gills flaring as he struggled to avoid hyperventilating. The past couldn’t hurt him, initial panic notwithstanding. His arm itched, a faint movement confirming the IV needle sunk into a vein. He felt around for the needle, ripping it out of his arm and clamping his hand down to stem the resulting spurt of blood.

“Sir!” Eridan ignored the alarmed squawk of a nearby mediculler, sitting up on the medical platform and peeling his eyes open. “You should be resting--”

“I didn’t give nobody permission to bring me in, Icrusa,” Eridan said, voice a rough croak. He cleared his throat, replacing his whole hand with his index finger to put pressure on the IV site instead. The mediculler swallowed hard, shrinking back as Eridan shot him an icy glare. “Told you this the last time.”

“You keep passing out, sir,” Icrusa said. His ears flushed a brilliant yellow as Eridan glowered. “You really shouldn’t be drinking so much, not with your pan in such a delicate state.” Icrusa stopped speaking as Eridan gripped onto the side of the medical platform, highblood strength twisting and warping the metal frame.

“My pan ain’t delicate,” he said. “I’m no different than I was a sweep ago. I’m not some delicate pissblooded helmsman. I can handle it. And the next time you try an’ give me some holier than thou bullshit regardin’ my drinkin’ habits, I’m setting you out the airlock. I didn’ ask for you to give me fuckin’ unsolicited health advice an’ you’d fuckin’ do well to remember that.” He reached for his glasses, shoving them on his face. His finger skipped over the false slap of skin at his temples, hiding the new port for a biowire. His stomach rolled, and he shoved it away. Don’t think about it. Don’t feel. Shut off your emotions, guppy, like a husktop. “I can’t get work done in the medbay. Sign my release form.”

Icrusa hesitated before bobbing his head, scurrying back to his office. He knew better by this point than to point out that yes, actually, it was his job to give health advice considering his status as the ship’s official mediculler after the last time Eridan woke up hungover in the medbay. Eridan watched him the whole time through narrowed eyes, foot tapping at a near frantic pace as he waited. He left the medbay even before the mediculler left his office, lifting the cape folded at the end of the platform and swinging it back around his shoulders. A sweep ago he would have felt childish, wearing a cape again, haunted by wiggler memories of immature games and lofty aspirations he could never hope to reach. But the Empress had given it to him, just for him in her color, gold woven into the hem with his sign etched into the embroidery, marking him as hers. 

He went to his block, avoiding the stares from crew members as he swept past them. He didn’t need their concern or their pity to do his job. The moment he entered he snatched a half-empty flask from his desk, draining the rest of it and sighing as his throat burned. Nothing beat a hangover like a bit of hair of the woofbeast, and a few minutes later his panic faded back into the background. Everything was okay. He was fine, everything was normal, and he could get to work.

Eridan sank into his chair, fumbling around for a bottle of soporific and refilling his flask as he eyed a desk drawer with distaste. He sucked in a breath before opening it, picking up the squirming biowire pinched between his index finger and thumb. He gritted his teeth before flicking the false flap of skin back, putting the wire to his temple. The biowire squirmed and sank into the port, and Eridan flinched as pain shot through his brain. The Empress had assured him the procedure was safe, convenient, but every time he hooked up to a computer Eridan felt like death clawed at his pan. He didn’t have psionics, he didn’t have all the electric pulses constantly thrumming through his body and shortening the neural pathways so the biowire could work efficiently. The biowire twisted his thoughts into agonized tendrils, every transfer of encrypted data giving him a migraine for hours. 

Still he hooked himself to his computer, taking another draft from his refilled flask as he opened up his alerts and tasks for the day. A download automatically started-- a security update for the ship itself, procedures for lockdown in case of a hijacking. The rebellion kept forcing the Empire’s hand, this latest security update a response to the more frequent hijackings by the movement that drew closer and closer to the heart of the fleet. Eridan bowed his head as the details wove their way into the meat of his pan, sinking into the hardware and locking themselves away. His hands shook, and he had to take a few minutes before focusing back on his tasks. His duties as Head Admin hadn’t ceased. Supplies needed ordering, personnel needed allocating, and patrol routes needed vetting. The duties never stopped, they never stopped piling up, and the notifications at the bottom right of his husktop screen with the sheer number of them seared their image into Eridan’s eyeballs.

Eridan leaned back in his seat, scrubbing at his eyes and then staring at the ceiling. Turn off the emotions. He could do that, he needed to do that, in order to keep going. He couldn’t waylay the demands of the Empress, and he had a responsibility to his ship to keep it running. Wasting time freaking out about the lack of time and lack of autonomy held him back. Besides, he never made good decisions for himself in the first place.

The intercom crackled on his desk, and Eridan snarled as he depressed the call button with his finger. “The fuck you need, Shakes?”

“Uh. Sorry to bother you, but we got a docking request,” Shakes said. “You good?”

“Not relevant. The BC Condescension is a galaxy over until the end of the perigee, so tell whoever we ain’t dockin’ for shit.”

“No, no, boss, this ain’t just any old request. It’s, uh, an interrogatormentor cruiser?”

Eridan lifted his head where he’d been resting it on his hand, blood crystallizing into icy shards of fear. “What? Why?”

“Beats me,” Shakes said. “They’ve got all the required security codes all lined up neat for me. I couldn’t get a bead on the helmsman either-- It’s like they don’t even have one. Do I let them dock?”

“It’s th’ bloody interrogatormentors. Do we have a choice?” Eridan plucked the biowire from his skull, shoving it back in his desk and smoothing his hair flat once again. “Let them on. I’ll let the Captain know.”

He met the interrogatormentors in the docking bay as they disembarked their tiny cruiser. The two purples stood out, towering high above the third, weedy troll between them. Eridan had to shake himself as he took in the yellowblood, the image of the decrepit Helmsman superimposed over the far more muscled and smooth-faced interrogatormentor in front of them. The fact the interrogatormentor clearly had helming experience didn’t help, his skin riddled with resealable ports that shone in the overhead lights. That explained the helmsman, then. Of course Shakes wouldn’t be able to get a bead on a helmsman with interrogatormentor training. Eridan cleared his throat, straightened his posture, and approached.

“Are you the captain?” The yellowblood cocked his head an inch, looking Eridan up and down. Something in his tone indicated he already knew the answer to his question, and his lisp niggled at memory in the back of Eridan’s pan.

“No. I’m Head Admin Ampora. State your business and I will fetch the captain for--”

The female purple to the side of the first interrogatormentor held up a hand, cutting him off. She wore no face paint unlike her companion. The male purple in question stared at Eridan openly, twitching as he heard Eridan’s name. It took Eridan a moment to register Gamzee aged as he was, gone through his final adult molt and towering above him. He met Gamzee’s eyes for only a moment before tearing his gaze away. He couldn’t risk Gamzee opening his mouth. He only wondered how Gamzee had landed a position alongside an interrogatormentor squad considering how Eridan faintly recalled outing his rebel connections upon first meeting the Empress.

The yellowblooded interrogatormentor cleared his throat. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. His fangs flashed as he spoke. “You’ve been compromised, Admin Ampora.”

The voice finally knocked something loose in Eridan’s pan, unlocking memories of voice calls at midday and filled with shouting wigglers spouting heresy. “TwinArmageddons?”

“CaligulasAquarium,” the yellow interrogatormentor replied, without missing a beat. 

Eridan stared at him, and stayed silent. They stayed at an impasse for a few moments, neither of them willing to out the other's rebel ties without revealing their own as Gamzee kept looking between them as the treasonous icing on the cake. It was as if Eridan had handed the interrogatormentor a grenade, and the yellowblood had pulled the pin while the grenade sat in their joined hands.

The female purple looked to the yellow, who cleared his throat. “I read his file. He read mine.” Eridan didn’t like how easily he lied, terror still prickling at the base of his skull. He scratched the back of his head, trying to ignore the wicked scar there. 

“So. Right. You here to torture me?” Eridan asked. “Interrogatormentor…?”

“Captor,” the yellowblood said. He indicated the female purple, and then Gamzee. “Interrogatormentor Davrot, Security Officer Makara. We’re responding to an alert your ship is harboring rebels and they are attempting to remove you from your position as the Empress’ consort.”

Eridan’s brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “No. You got the wrong ship. I ain’t recruitin’ rebels. Especially none tryin’ to undermine me.”

Captor snorted, lowering his chin in a clear sign of arrogant condescension. He waved a hand and the two purples separated from his side where they’d clung like remoras to a shark’s parasite-ridden gills. “Strange. The report said you’re the one that caught the alert and brought it to the Empire’s attention.”

Eridan stared, trying to knit together the holes in his memory and recall ever summoning interrogatormentors. He did a lot of his work drunk now, true enough, but he had a handle on it and remembered the important information. If anything he only remembered the Empress, a foggy memory of her praising him for his work against the rebellion. Was this what she meant?

He turned as he heard yelling and a distant commotion, but Captor waved a hand. “Ignore this and get back to whatever you Head Admins call work while we deal with your infestation,” he said. “You’ll be updated when we get what we need.” 

He walked away, silent as before as he ghosted after the two purples. Eridan watched him go before shaking himself back into reality, looking around to see a few crewmates halted in their duties and watching him. “You’re not paid to dick around,” he said, baring his teeth. “Unless any of the rest of you want to be investigated for rebel leanings. Might as well make use of the interrogatormentors while they’re here.” The idle crewmembers jumped back into their work, avoiding Eridan’s eye as he left the room.

Hours passed, and Eridan wanted to throttle something. Everyone wanted to know what the interrogatormentors wanted or needed, and he had nothing to give them. He didn’t even know the name of the troll being investigated, and he didn’t care. As long as the interrogatormentors weren’t knocking at his door and asking what he knew of Feferi and her rebellion, he didn’t care.

Someone knocked on his door. Eridan jumped, almost knocking over his flask onto his keyboard and only just managing to catch it before it fell. He swore and stood, opening the door to see the trio of trolls from earlier, Interrogatormentor Davrot dragging a fourth, barely conscious troll behind her by the hair. Olive blood oozed from multiple lacerations across the troll’s face and arms.

“Bricks?” Eridan tried to not sound so betrayed, but his voice dripped with it.

Bricks stirred, groaning before opening an eye. His other eye was swollen shut. “I’m not a rebel,” Bricks said. He yelped as Davrot yanked his hair up, clinging to her wrist for dear life in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pain.  “I’m not. Don’t listen to them-- I just tried to get you help!”

“Help with what?” Eridan’s fingers curled in the hem of his cape, and he let go only when he caught Captor staring at the gesture like a predator eyeing its prey.

Bricks stayed silent, hissing as Davrot forced him onto his knees. She leaned in, grabbing him by the horn and twisting. “No. No no no-- Not again--” Bricks screamed as Eridan caught the sound of horn splintering, grinding against itself. “The Empress! Stop-- She’s killing you, Ampora, can’t you see it? Anyone with eyes can fucking see it, it’s only the rebellion that might care! I don’t give a shit about anything else they do, I just wanted them to get you out of this place before it gets any worse..”

Eridan bristled, hands curling into his fists. Captor moved forward before he could say anything, footsteps inaudible on the metal tile. He put his hand on Bricks’ shoulder. “He sold you out,” he said. “You’re preaching to the choir now.” Bricks blinked, looking from Captor to Eridan who stood immobile. Captor snorted, snapping his fingers. Davrot grabbed Bricks’ hand, linking her fingers with his and holding it high above his head as Captor leaned in and grabbed Bricks by the chin. “It’s kind of sweet, isn’t it? You selling each other out to try and save your own sorry hides. You thought you could get away with this? With trying to snatch the Empress’ consort out from under her?” Captor dropped Bricks’ face and turned his bicolored eyes on Eridan. “You employ soft crewmembers, Admin Ampora. We didn’t even have to press hard to crack him open.”

Captor moved his left hand, swiping it overtop his right. Psionics shimmered in its wake, coalescing into a solid blade of hard light. Eridan could feel the thrum of power from here, hairs on the back of his neck standing on end in the wake of this blatant flexing of psionic ability. Bricks jerked his hand in Davrot’s grip, but she stood immobile as Gamzee grabbed his uninjured horn and kept him locked in place. “Ampora. Eridan. Come on. Who the fuck do you think keeps scraping your sorry ass off the floor every time you pass out? Tell me they’re lying-- You wouldn’t throw me under like this. I know you.”

“You don’t know me,” Eridan said. He couldn’t remember telling any interrogatormentors about an outgoing message to the rebels, or even mentioning it offhand to the Empress. He didn’t know if he wanted to. The Empress gave him everything, she gave him status and gifts and he served as her comfort and her informant. Bricks wanted to take that all away-- He wanted to ruin everything Eridan had worked so hard for and send him back to step one in the dirt with rebels. Rebels that Eridan had burned so many bridges with it might as well be a scrapyard, that had said to his face and beyond that he would never be welcome until he shaped up. He’d shaped up, he’d shipped out into the stars, and crafted himself into something better that neither Feferi nor any of her other cronies could hope to touch. “I… Yeah. I did.”

Bricks’ face fell, only for him to scream as Captor swiped out with the psionic blade and separated the engineer’s hand from his wrist with crunching bone and the smell of seared flesh. The hand skidded across the floor, smearing a trail of olive blood along the floor and landing at Eridan’s feet. Eridan stared down at it as Davrot and Gamzee let Bricks crumple to the ground, clutching his arm and screaming.

He only looked up as Captor advanced on him, schooling his face back into the blank slate the Empress had taught him. A thin line of yellow blood snaked down the interrogatormentor’s face from his nose due to no doubt immeasurable strain required by him wielding that blade. “Keep this close as a reminder to your crew. I trust you’ll do the right thing,” Captor said. He bent down and picked up the hand, and dropped it into Eridan’s. Eridan’s muscles tensed to throw it away, stomach rolling, but he only stared down at it, conditioned by this point to be totally numb as every instinct screamed at him to do something. Instead, he could be good. He could do nothing. The Empress would be proud of him, or at least he hoped as much. 

He snapped back to attention as Captor inclined his head and spoke again. “Long live the Empire.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Eridan said, straightening his back as he automatically saluted, expression schooled into a blank mask, the drunken flush from earlier banished from his face. “Long live the Empire.”

Captor swiped at the trickle of blood on his face with his thumb and nodded, turning on his heel. The two purples flanked him again, bringing up the rear as they disappeared down the hall.

Eridan dropped the hand the moment the interrogatormentors went out of sight, skin crawling, but he couldn’t bring himself to so much as whimper. He couldn’t trust his crew. He couldn’t trust his memory. He could only trust the Empress, that she would recognize the dangers pointing daggers at his back and save him, as she no doubt had in sending interrogatormentors to his ship.

He shut the door to his blocks, leaving Bricks sobbing on the floor. He didn’t feel anything, anything at all. Even as he sent the Captain a message about the incident and Bricks writhed on the floor in pain outside his blocks he felt nothing, the tears that finally spilled from his eyes more a physical response to the lingering smell of charred flesh in his nose more than anything. He’d have to do something about the hand eventually, and he wouldn’t put it past a sadistic interrogatormentor to actually make sure he kept the hand on display somewhere. That definitely would not win him any brownie points with the crew, especially with how alienated he felt from them by this point. He doubted even Shakes would give him the time of day after this, with what he let happen to Bricks. Fuck, he needed another drink.

They’d told him in Fleet Academy that space was vast, that space was empty and cruel and cold. But no one had told him, they didn’t warn him, that space was so fucking lonely. 

[departeddestiny]

Pronunciation: Coo-Ra-Sa Or-L

Nickname: Has None.

Age: 31.

Nameday: 4th Sun of the 2nd Umbral Moon.

Race: Au Ra, Xaela.

Gender: Male.

Sexuality: Pansexual.

Marital: Single.

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Hair: Medium in length and Umber, it is parted in a way so that the thick of it falls to the right. Strands stick up here and there, it might be considered disheveled; this is done purposefully, as time is precious. It is silken to the touch. 

Eyes: Burnt Orange optics with slitted pupils, much reminiscent of the dragon’s from which he is descended. Black stains the sclera where white would typically be seen. 

Height: 7 Fulm, 2 Ilm ( 7′ 2″ )

Physique: Large biceps, chiseled pecs and abs. The Xaela is built from his constant efforts to remain in top shape, especially so since most of his Gil is gained protecting others or from chasing after bounties.

Dominant Hand: Right.

Posture: He tends to stand up straight and rigid, some would consider him to have a ‘stick up his ass’.

Scars: They litter his body, telling a story of a warrior. The largest one is jagged and runs along his left pectoral, stops just above his abdominal muscles.

Distinguishing Features: Unlike most Xaela, where obsidian scales would normally be present, his are cracked and flowing with lava. They are hot to the touch, though not enough where they will burn.

Profession: Formerly a Dragoon for the Ishgardian Forces || Bounty Hunter and Sell Sword

Affiliation: None at present.

Languages: Eorzean, Doman, Xaelic.

Residence: Taverns strewn throughout Eorzea, predominantly in Ul’Dah

Birthplace: Doma, before it was razed by Garlean Forces.

Religion: None.

Parents: Tsuki Orl ( Mother, Deceased ) || Ryoma Orl ( Father, Deceased )

Siblings: Chiharu Orl ( Older Sister, Alive ) 

Pets: Draught Chocobo named Isaac

Hidden Amoung Shadows: There might have been a time when Kurasa wished to be seen, when he made a point to show his scales off and revel in the attention. Now, he tends to stick to the shadows or remains in his own company, oft wearing a hood to hide his features.

Flawed Moral Compass: While he may seem like any other person, Kurasa is quite capable of committing heinous acts; an example would be how he became a Dravanian Spy during the Dragonsong War. How many innocents died due to his actions? A thought that would haunt normal people, but Kurasa sleeps just fine.

Short Trigger: Perhaps it is the dragon blood that runs through his veins, perhaps he was simply borne that way, but Kurasa has an extremely short trigger when it comes to his temper. As he’s gotten older, he’s done his best to reign it in, but he will still beat heads if provoked enough. 

Mistrusting to a Fault: Due to all that he has been through, Kurasa trusts none but himself. He has seen how quickly people turn on one another, how easily they come to assumptions. The man has seen the absolute worst of people and would rather not trust another to save his hide. 

Are You Really That Smug?: Once his barriers have been breached, his smug attitude and belief in his own capabilities come to the surface. Kurasa knows that he is good looking, that he is good in battle and in bed, and he won’t let another tell him otherwise.   

Frisky Under the Influence: Though not an every day occurrence, the man can often be seen in the corner of a tavern, pounding back the drinks...which probably garners more attention than it should. But with drink in his system, he becomes much more open and social, which leads to a new bed partner. But upon waking, he is his normal self, extremely ticked and grumpy despite just having got laid.

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual

Romantic Orientation: Panromantic ( monogamous ).

Preferred Emotional Role:  submissive | dominant | switch |  unsure 

Preferred Sexual Role:  submissive |  dominant  |  switch |  sex repulsed

Libido: Over-Active.

Turn On’s: Thoughtful || Witty || Good with a Sword || Sarcastic || Hard to Get

Turn Off’s:  Clingy || Selfish || Overly Cruel ( there is a line ) ||  Debauchee  ( he’s not into romancing someone who is all too willing to sleep with him )

Love Language: Time Spent Alone || Physical Touches ||  Protective 

Relationship Tendencies: Due to his mistrust, Kurasa would do his best to avoid the person all together; they would have to be stubborn and continually come around in order for him to open up. Eventually, the Xaela will begin to open up, once he sees they are not there to cause him harm and they accept him for who he has become. Will become a protector, a shadow that looks over them and ensures their safety. Once he loves, he will love them alone.

Hobbies: Sword Play, Training, Climbing Waterfalls, Reading, Drinking ( Tea and Alcohol ), Eating, Listening to Music, Wandering.

Likes: Cold climates, Animals, Waterfalls, Teas, Rain, Various Shades of Black, Cooking, Fighting, Flowers, Mountains, Fire, Gil.

Dislikes: Small Spaces, Long Conversations, Threats, Blood Stained Clothes, Garleans and Ishgardians.

Fears: His Sister Dying, Being Vulnerable, Drowning.

Positive Personality Traits: Loyal, Passionate and Battle Hardened.

Negative Personality Traits: Cynical, Sarcastic and Violent.

Sword for Hire: Or more specifically, a glaive. Kurasa will do just about anything to put Gil into his pocket; in regards to killing or protecting, that is. But unless the person has won his loyalty, there is a chance he’ll turn on them in favor of a higher counter offer. 

Blood of the Dragon: The Orl Clan was persecuted and primarily killed off because the Ishgardians believed them to be in line with their dragon ancestors: one look at Kurasa and, although not proven, one might think he truly did descend from the creatures. Cracked obsidian scales that flow with lava, slitted eyes, and fanged teeth. He portrays an intimidating picture. 

Battle Hardened Warrior: Kurasa is the epitome of a person that has been hardened by battle, and by fate. There could be no better person to fight at your side, as he is skilled in not only his glaive but a multitude of other weapons. He’s one of the first to rush into the fray and it’s quite hard to take him down. 

Lover of Tea: When the Xaela is able, he enjoys being able to sit down with a steaming cup of tea and let the days troubles wash from his person. It’s strange to see him do so and often, he’ll get looks of confusion when ordering, but who gives a shit? 

A Slight Alcoholic: Then there is the opposite of the tea love, which is his need to drown his emotions in alcohol. Unfortunately when Kurasa drinks enough, he becomes a very open and affectionate person, which oft leads to him waking up with another in his bed. 

Nature Lover: The best way he found to keep his body in shape, is to test his strength against what nature has to offer. Climbing cliffs and waterfalls gives the Xaela a full body work out and when he is done, he can sit amoungst the flowers and animals, and relax. There is nothing quite like feeling the sun beat down and the cool breeze against sweat stained skin.

Please be advised, this blog contains mature content that is not suitable for those under the age of 21.  

I Roleplay: Pretty much anything! Subjects such as kidnappings,  torture ( there is a fine line to tread ), and romance are acceptable but only when previously discussed and both parties are willing to participate.

I do not roleplay: Permanent character death, rape plots, polygamous relationships, god-modding, power-playing, and ERP. I am simply not interested in any of these, it is not meant as a personal insult. 

Please feel free to approach! I love to create stories. That is what roleplay is about, no? If you can somehow see your character fit into Kurasa’s life in some fashion, I am all ears. You’re welcome to message me, even if I do not follow you, and I will do my best to respond!

Please don’t take information from me. While I did not write the events that his story is heavily based upon, Kurasa is of my own creation and I have worked very hard on him. 

I am a shy bean who is just starting out with this character - he demanded I tell his story and that is the purpose of all this.

I am not my character. Kurasa does things of his own volition and although I might say something, that does not dictate his actions in the slightest. 

In Game: Kurasa Orl

World: Mateus  ( Crystal Data Center )

Discord: Given upon request.

Style: I’m a multi-paragraph writer, though sometimes I will write more or less depending on what I am going to work with.

[cats-moss-gays]

Ok so this post has been in my drafts for a while and it’s really long with a lot of in depth descriptions of intersex conditions and stuff, but I’m just going to quote the beginning and end parts that have some great overall explanations by @interinfo​

Okay, so I’ll start this off by explaining what intersex organizations have meant when they say “spectrum of sex,” “diversity of biological sex,” or “binary ideas of sex.” These terms have been muddied and co-opted to fit other groups’ campaigning without care for what they originally meant.

When we say sex is diverse and does not fit into a binary, it means that there is more than one phenotype for the male sex and more than one phenotype for the female sex. Both a male who is not intersex and someone with AIS, an XY condition that makes the body unable to use androgens and therefore no male development occurs giving the person a female phenotype, are still male. Male encompasses the spectrum of XY sexual development between non-intersex male and completely androgen-free males with female phenotypes like AIS and XY lipoid CAH people. Male also includes Swyer Syndrome, where the coding for the hormone that switches uterus development to testes development is mutated and causes uterine development instead.

As for females, you have non-intersex females and you can have females with phenotypes like mine with CAH or a male phenotype like De La Chapelle Syndrome (XX condition where during spermatogenesis a portion of a Y chromosome is accidentally fused onto the arm of the gamete’s intended X). That gives us a spectrum of the way females can be.

There is no “binary” way of being male because males can have penises and functioning testes (non-intersex), clitoromegaly and internal testes (PAIS), or a female-appearing vulva and regular clitoris size with internal testes (AIS). There are even males with uteri in the case of Swyer Syndrome. There is no “binary” way of being female because of the same things.

The “spectrum of sex” is where we overlap phenotypes between two sexes. A non-intersex female will look phenotypically the same as someone with AIS. A non-intersex male will look phenotypically the same as someone with De La Chapelle Syndrome. And I, an intersex female with androgen exposure, will look like an intersex male with PAIS who has had only partial of general male androgen exposure. A side note on that last part, for several years I thought Pidgeon Pagonis had CAH too based on the genitalia descriptions they gave because it was all the same with me. I didn’t know any better until I joined the intersex Discord and the topic came up.

However, while there are not dichotomous ways of being male or female, we know that everyone is either male or female for an important reason: the only reason ours or any species has biological sex is to add different angles and gametes to sexual reproduction. In humans, there are only two options: to make and develop a system to use ova for pregnancy, or to make and develop a system to use spermatozoa for impregnation. No intersex person produces the opposite sex’s gamete or has the full and functioning system of the opposite sex to use that gamete. Most of us are infertile.

If intersex people represented a biological sex other than male or female, we would expect most people to be intersex and few to be male or female. This is like any other thing in statistics: opposite-end extremes are the rarest, while roughly 95% falls in the middle-range, just like a bell curve.

We also know that truly being intersex (having a major difference of congenital reproductive development, not PCOS, hormonal differences, or general NCAH) is not 1.7% as many “activists” love to boast about, comparing to red hair and green eyes. The true statistic is about .0667% of the population having an intersex condition.

I’m going to break things down very clearly under the cut for everyone, looking at each intersex variant, how it arises, what sex, why it belongs solely to that sex, the frequency of occurrence etc. Things will be linked to sources. Some sources may overlap because I’m trying to keep each entry consistent but the information is on the same page as another part’s source, like finding the occurrence frequency. Some links will be from MedScape, which has a free registration to view more than a few links but the sources there are good–I will remain skimpy with using these links because of the needing to register. It’ll be very long so I’m giving you guys the benefit of the cut so you don’t have to scroll through miles on your dash to get to the next post. Like, I am not shitting you. Painfully, severely, agonizingly long and detailed. It has taken me more than 14 hours to compile and source this post.

[a lot of very impressively detailed information about intersex conditions]

That’d cover just about all of them, I’d think. Onto our conclusion.

Do intersex people categorize a third sex or disprove that human sex is only male or female? No.

Nothing listed above shows any option toward reproduction other than pregnancy or impregnation, sperm or ova, Mullerian or Wolffian. There is no intersex variant that can make and successfully use both ova and sperm. There is no intersex variant with strict Mullerian development that makes sperm, and no intersex variant with strict Wolffian development that makes ova.

Also, we can tell that different types of being intersex are exclusively tied to mutations of certain genes, which are mutations leading to health concerns or sometimes death. If intersex were a third sex, different disorders wouldn’t be tied to desctruction of function in very specified genes and would instead be healthfully inherited development through a third sex chromosome.

Intersex disorders also tend to be specifically common in some ethnicities and not others, such as virilizing CAH in Ashkenazi Jews, lipoid CAH in Koreans, and 5ARD in the Dominican Republic, some highland tribes in New Guinea, Lebanon and Turkey. All around the world, no matter where you go, almost 50% of people are male and 50% of people are female (save for countries with high rates of femicide). If intersex people were a third sex, we would have each condition show equal rate of occurrence in all ethnicities across the board. But we do not.

We also would not be able to mix “sexes” like having both Klinefelter Syndrome (XXY) and CAH.

Biological sex in humans is dichotomous. We can only be male or female, but there is a spectrum of how males present and a spectrum of how females present. Intersex people do not disprove the existence of biological sex or prove the existence of new sexes; we merely have mutations of genes that altered our course of development, though none that truly reverse our sex and allow us to fully perform the reproductive ability of the opposite sex or both sexes at the same time. Many of us are sterile and unhealthy, and many of us have to live on pharmaceuticals to care for the poor bone and heart health that is so frequent among intersex disorders.

Everyone, please stop spreading misinformation about our bodies as political pawns. We’re just here, a little bit different, but we’re still like you, not some third other.

There are some other great additions to the post linked above, but I wanted to just post some of the highlights so that it’s not another super long post on my blog (it’s still kinda long but oh well)

[thefanficmonster]

Filterless

Corpse Husband x Plus-sized Reader (Female)

Warnings: Body Image Insecurities, Low self-esteem, Swearing

Genre:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Feeling comfortable in her skin has hardly ever been the case for Y/N who’s been struggling with body image issues all her life. However, they only get worse when she sees the ‘type’ of girls her crush is into.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request (hits close to home 😅) I’m so sorry it has taken me so long to fulfill it and post it but here it finally is and if you’ve stuck around long enough to read it, I hope you enjoy! ALSO! - Never forget how beautiful and amazing you are. Never compare your beauty to someone else’s. We’re all beautiful people and we all shine so brightly and uniquely. No one deserves to be compared to anyone when we’re all so different yet so incredible. Love you and appreciate you with all my heart, Vy ❤

If I ever need my ego taken down a few notches - it never does, it’s barely even present, to be honest - all I have to do is go on Instagram. To be honest, regardless of how I’m feeling, opening that app is bound to make my mood plummet and come crashing into the ground so hard it drives a hole in it - probably in the form of a broken heart.

Being a content creator myself, I often get asked questions about my absence on that social platform specifically. I mean, the questions are based and rational I guess, considering I’m not a faceless YouTuber and yet my Instagram account is void of any photos. It’s not like I don’t post at all - I do! I post on my story often but it’s more often than not scenery I find pretty or a poster I’ve made for a movie/video game. Bottom line is: I barely ever allow a picture of me to make it online. The most my fans are ever gonna get of me is a selfie which is also a super rare occurrence because of how long it takes me to take and choose one I don’t hate.

Ok, but how am I supposed to find the motivation to post any sort of picture of myself when on my timeline I’m always faced with people worthy of posting pictures of themselves. People with such perfect bodies and beautiful faces. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not jealous or envious of those people - good for them! They know what they’re working with and they’re working it well. I have nothing against them, in fact, I love seeing people proud of their bodies no matter their size, shape or weight. Those are my role-models: people who are proud of themselves, their bodies, their attributes and capabilities and don’t hesitate to show them off. Those are the people I look up to but, deep down inside I know I’ll never be like.

Insecure about my body, having been referred to as ‘chubby’ and ‘squishy’ all my life. Inappreciative of the stuff I do: starting from my job as a graphic designer leading towards my job on YouTube - nothing I do, professionally or otherwise, satisfies me. Nothing I do is enough in my eyes because I feel incapable of ever being able to do enough. I’ve been called lazy and a half-asser a few too many times to be able to brush it off as a meaningless insult. 

With these problems I’ve had with myself and my own perception of who I am and the work I do, I’ve never had the time for romance or romantic relationships. I second-guess the intentions of everyone who ever shows any interest in me because in my mind I’m nothing special and I have nothing to offer - nothing attractive or likable at least. That being said, I haven’t even been one to make heart eyes at others either. I busy myself with my job and some side-gigs, brushing off any relationship questions with the excuse that I’m ‘just too busy to be in a relationship’ which is technically true.

Having spent twenty plus years with that mindset, one can imagine how surprised I was when I found myself catching feelings for someone. And that someone just couldn’t be any other than the biggest YouTube sensation at the moment - Corpse Husband.

I’m close friends with Poki - her and I were roommates at one point too - so her inviting me to play Among Us with them wasn’t so strange. One or two games, I thought, nothing unusual there, just friendly curtesy. I wasn’t expecting to warm up to the group of famous streamers nor did I expect them to welcome me among them so easily, mostly because my channel is so small and practically invisible to the YouTube algorithm. But soon enough, I became a permanent member of the team, making friends with every single one of those YouTubers I practically thought of a celebrities.

This journey of branching out to other content creators has proven itself to be surprisingly pleasant and has packed my book of friendships to the brim. All of that came unexpectedly, along with a wave of new subs and a higher view count. However, as I mentioned, it hasn’t been all sunshine and rainbows. I came to finally understand what my high school friends were talking about when they were head over heels for a boy - the butterflies in the stomach whenever he speaks your name; the importance of the laugh you share with him, how special and different it is; how cool it is to be impostors with him - ok they never said that, obviously, but it’s what I have as a substitute to the ‘when the two of you make eye-contact’ bullshit since Corpse and I have never seen each other in person. That is, of course, because of him being a faceless YouTuber and me being a self-conscious and insecure girl.

We do talk all the time though - texting, calling, chilling on Discord, you name it. Our conversations range from deeply philosophical to ones that might mislead someone into thinking we’re high. There’s no topic we haven’t touched upon and yet we still manage to find something new to talk about. We have plenty of similarities but we also never seem to run out of differences we slowly come across as we keep getting to know each other better and better. 

And somewhere along that journey I ended up catching feelings.

Human nature of wanting to connect with other people, I curse you for what you’ve done to me.

You might think I’m being overdramatic about the whole ordeal and that this is just a normal, natural occurrence many people experience in their life - some even daily. Well, not only am I far from used to it, but it’s also taking a toll of a different kind on me.

It’s like a constant slap to the face. 

That slap turned into a punch when Corpse and I started following each other on Instagram and I started getting daily reminders of how out of my depth I am with this crush on him. In over my head, especially when you look at all those girls whose pics and videos he reposts on his story. Imagine how that makes me feel, what that does to me - puts me back into the ‘Constantly not good enough‘ basket, the one I’ve been fighting to get out of all my life. In the past and in different contexts I could easily say that it was all just my mind hating me intensely but now - now that I know for a fact I’m not good enough and don’t fit Corpse’s criteria - it hurts ten times as much. I’m not one to do shit for someone’s attention or to attract someone’s eyes, but it really hurts my feelings. Often times, it also leads me to doing dumb things and making rash decisions. 

Like the one I made two days ago.

Imagine me cringing and shaking my head at my own stupidity as I admit this: I, in a frenzy, ordered a whole e-girl getup with overnight delivery. 

Wait, hold up, it gets worse. 

I received it yesterday and spent the whole day regretting that decision, but then, in my most insecure hours - which was somewhere around midnight - I equipped the get-up, took a picture and posted it on my Instagram page. First full body pic I’ve ever posted on there. First pic I’ve posted there of any kind. There to stay, not to be gone in twenty four hours. First pic, and it’s not even of me. It’s of who I want to be in order to fit someone’s criteria. And that fucking stings.

As you might imagine, I’ve spent today’s day regretting that decision as well. Recently my mood’s been nothing but regretting rash decisions that have surfaced under the influence of my ridiculous, constantly-present insecurities. And I would’ve probably gotten over it rather quickly had I not received a message from Corpse that read:

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic“

I didn’t open the message, I peeped at it as it was a notification on my lock screen. It’s still there, an unread notification. It’s been two hours since I received it and I cannot think of a single thing to say in response to that. 

Truth is, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of so many things right now.

I’m afraid of becoming that girl in the photo, cause I’m most definitely not her.

I’m afraid of letting Corpse down by admitting I’m not her.

I’m afraid of what my own mind has made me do because it hates me so much and I’m terrified of what it might do in the future.

I’m afraid and stranded on things to do.

You can’t be her forever, you know. Being her won’t make your insecurities go away, it’ll only make them worse. Haven’t you learned that by now?

I sigh, frustrated and irritated with myself as I grab my phone and tap on the notification, finally deciding to face the music and allow my instincts to carry me through the interaction. Improvisation, that’s one of the few things I’m good at. Let’s hope it doesn’t fail me.

I’m just about to type out my response - not sure what it’s gonna say - when I give the message Corpse has sent me a second glance.  I furrow my brows, finding there’s more to it than that peep through the notification let me see.

“Didn’t think of you with an e-girl aesthetic. You’re personality is so bright and colorful, I could’ve never imagined you were into the darks and blacks“

Because I’m not

I fail to realize until the message has been sent that my thoughts are exactly what I typed out and sent.

And honestly, I’m glad. It feels like I’ve spoken my truth, like I’ve lifted a huge boulder off my chest.

With that rare confidence in mind I go on and delete the picture.

In its spot, I post a picture I just now took - a mirror selfie in my homey get-up consisting of hot pink sweatpants and an oversized blue tee, my hair in a messy bun, my face free of make-up.

I caption it: ‘Oops, had the e-girl filter on for the last one. This is filterless me tho so...Hi 🥴’

A lot better, I’m surprised to hear my inner voice say. I hope I don’t get used to all this kindness on my brain’s part, probably won’t last, but damn if I don’t milk every second of it.

Just then, I receive a new message from non other than Corpse.

“Now that’s the girl I see when I think of you. She’s super cute 😉“

My, oh my, who would’ve guessed Corpse has a game like that - and by that I mean the ability to make me blush so intensely with only a text message.

Now ain’t that better than being someone else, Y/N?

It sure is, it sure is.

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[crankynewt]

New Beginnings

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sunrises are known for representing the start for new beginnings, and that is exactly what (Y/N) and Bucky need whilst dealing with the aftermath of the snap.

Warnings: Endgame spoilers (is that still a warning??), a pretty cheesy story, and this hasn’t been proofread.

Word Count: 1307

Masterlist

A/N: THIS IS SOOOO CHESSY and I haven’t proofread this so there will probably be some errors! Also, the italics are flashbacks!

     The early hours of the morning paint the sky with a wide array of warm colors as the sun emerges from beyond the horizon. Many people interpret it’s meaning differently, but to you and Bucky, it means hope. It signifies the end of the darkness and the beginning of a brighter future; a symbol of hope. Somebody once said that there can be no light without darkness, and no darkness without light. After suffering at the grips of HYDRA and manipulated into weapons of mass destruction, both you and Bucky are constantly searching for that path of light.

     Your mind drifts off into deep thought as you admire the sun’s reflection on the open water, embracing the new day with open arms. The crisp morning air is a sheer contrast to the warm mug in your hands, holding the steaming beverage providing you the needed energy to get through yet another day. An oversized sweatshirt hugs your shoulders as you lean against the railing of the Stark’s patio, the quiet sounds of wood creaking as the two figures shift being the only break in the silence. Crystal blue orbs are locked onto you, as the soldier’s mind wanders back to before the world erupted into discord.

     The warm Wakandan air is a welcome feeling as Bucky opens his eyes to start the day, the peace and calm still a foreign feeling to the soldier. As he peers out the entrance of his hut, he is met by a figure framed by the warm colours of the morning. Countless shades of red, orange, and pink embrace him as he approaches the silhouette. You are sitting on a fallen log, looking onto the rolling African hills, reveling in the perfect weather and picturesque landscape.

     “Shouldn’t you be sleeping in?” He questions, as he joins you on the log, lowering himself to where he is no longer towering over your seated figure.

     “I’ve spent so much of my life in a cage, letting others control what I do,” you started, turning your head to look at him, “It’s my turn to choose, and I’m choosing to appreciate what they kept away from us. My mom always used to tell me that each sunrise was a new beginning. Growing up, we used to sit outside and watch it rise every morning, but now I can barely remember a time where I felt that same hope or optimism.”

     “This is a new start for us,” Bucky stated as he reached for your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Although you had spent years training together, neither of you were yourselves. You were always machines, not in control of who you were, and it’s only been the past few weeks that you’ve had the chance to be James Barnes and (Y/N) (Y/L/N). “You might never get that back, but you might end up finding something better.”

     After that day, watching the sunrise became a daily occurrence for the pair. As time went on, they began bringing one another things such as a cup of coffee or a cozy blanket. Simple gestures, yes, but each carried more meaning than a thousand words. They were not dating, despite the feelings that each held for the other, but the term “friends” is nowhere near strong enough. After experiencing the horrors of HYDRA and suffering at the hands of humans who felt they were above others, they understood each other on a deeper level. There is a bond there that is impossible to describe, that remains rooted so deeply into their identities.

     The world changed when half of it turned to dust. Friends were separated, families torn apart. Bucky suffered at the hands of Thanos whilst you were left behind for years desperate to fix what had been broken, to undo the mad titan’s actions. After what felt like a lifetime of isolating yourself, locked into your apartment desperately grasping at strings and exhausting every possibility. 

     When Steve and Tony had shown up on your doorstep explaining that they had found a way to achieve the impossible and that they had a shot to fix things once and for all, it was time to get your act together. And surprisingly enough, it worked, and it was not long before you were reunited with your missing comrades.

     Clutching your aching side, you look up from your spot in the rubble just in time to see Sam flying through a portal, accompanied by T’Challa, Shuri, and Okoye. Your breath hitched in your throat, eyes frantically scanning the number of opening pathways as you stumbled to your feet. However, you were unable to find the man you were looking for before you were swept up into the fight of your lives.

     During the battle, you were knocked off your feet by one of Thanos’ revolting creatures. You struggled against it, desperately reaching for your weapon as it lashed at your throat. But before any damage could be done, a gunshot was heard amongst the chaos and you felt your attacker go limp. Shoving the corpse off yourself, you’re met with a hand offering to help you up. Your eyes flicker up as you were met with the face of the man who had been by your side for so many years, and who you had worked extremely hard to bring back.

     You grasp his hand as he helps you up, and you quickly pull him into a tight embrace. Tears prick your eyes as you cling onto him as if your life may depend on it, Bucky not hesitating in returning the hug.

     “You came back.” You mumble just loud enough for him to hear, your voice cracking with emotion as you refuse to let go.

     “Of course I did, doll. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He replies with a chuckle at the end.

     After what feels like an eternity, you let go of him before pulling out your gun and letting a smirk paint itself on you face.

     “Let’s go kick some alien ass, shall we?”

     Relishing the calm moment before the undoubtedly hectic day that lies ahead, you and Bucky enjoy each other’s company as you continue your quiet morning.

     “(Y/N)?” Bucky broke the silence, tearing his eyes away from the scene before him and rather admired the beauty sitting to his right. 

     “Yeah, Buck?” You responded, matching his gaze and shifting your body to face his.

     “Do you ever get tired of this? Of the constant stress and worry that it’s only a matter of time before somebody else is turning our lives upside down?” He questioned, nervously fiddling with the mug in his hands.

     “Yeah, but it’s a lot better than the shit that we went through with HYDRA.”

     “I know that, but have you ever wanted something quieter? That simple life that Steve and Tony swore by. Before the war, I never really thought about settling down, but now I just want an average life.” Bucky explained.

     “What are you saying?” You asked, feeling butterflies form in your stomach. It would be a lie to say that you had never pictured or longed for a relationship with the former assassin, and after spending so long having each other’s backs, you are already extremely close.

     “I don’t really know how to say this… God, but I want to try this, us. We could just leave this life behind, move out into the middle of nowhere and start a life together. I want to start a life with you.” He said, and slowly made his way closer to me. I could feel my heart beating out of my chest as we drifted closer to each other. As the distance closes between us and our lips touch, you can’t help but realize, this really is the start of a new beginning.

I’m just starting to write again! Send an ask to be added to my taglist!

[mvloncarch]

     hello hey what’s good hunnies, i’m rollin up late but uh !!  my name’s maia, 25 y/o living it up it up in the ast part of the world and uh listen i don’t have discord bc i’m a literal grandma when it comes to keeping up with all the new means of being social lmao so if you would like to chat and/or plot?? just shoot me an im on here — i’m usually always mobile & i obviously love to talk a lot !  and i’m a heaux for dramatic / angst-fuelled plots .. just a little fyi … i’m excited !! so anyway !!!  onto the Idiot of the Hour you’re actually here to read about; my darling malone. i have a pinterest board for him  HERE  , his stats page set up  HERE  , and a connections page  HERE  which as you can see is bare as all hell so let’s plot <3

╰☆╮ DACRE MONTGOMERY , 21 , CIS MALE , HE/HIM  ☆ — wait , is that MALONE SINCLAIR ? dean lockwood has been looking for them . you didn’t hear it from me but , apparently the JUNIOR might know something about the whole omega chi & kappa tau situation . while they can be ENIGMATIC & RESTIVE , they’re far too ALTRUISTIC & RESILIENT to be involved , right ? those who know them say they’re reminded of BOYISH CHARM AMPLIFIED BY A ROGUISH GRIN, SPARSELY SCARRED FINGERS CLAD IN GOLD RINGS, BEING 3AM’S DESIGNATED SAVIOUR TO ONE AND ALL, HAWAIIAN SHIRTS HIDDEN BENEATH DESIGNER SUITS & DREAMY BABY BLUE HUES LOST IN THOUGHT whenever they’re around .  honestly , the BIOLOGICAL SCIENCES major should try to keep their head down . after the events of last semester , lockwood is out for blood . did you know that MAL is a member of LAMBDA SIGMA OMEGA ? that might explain why their name is being brought up.

okay so homeboy here has had it pretty easy his entire life. his dad works relentlessly as chief of neurosurgery in lower manhattan and his step-mom had worked as a prestigious legal practitioner; one of the most sought out lawyers in the state, and later, a socialite. like the infamous philosopher dr justin roberts once said: “six figures, i was only four”, malone was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. while most would assume he’s a straight up trust fund punk, though, he inherited his father’s impeccable work ethic to a fault.

as an only child and therefore sole heir to the sinclair estate, his parents have been on mal’s ass his entire life to give his absolute best in everything he does. health, school, sports, friendships, relationships, the whole shebang. his marks were always near the top of his class, he excelled at his two favourite sports; hockey during the winter, baseball during the summer. but it wasn’t until he hit his mid adolescent years, started developing an interest in girls ( whom he once thought were riddled with cooties ), that his focus faltered a wee bit and good lil o’malley boy started being a teenager.

embracing his lavish lifestyle and all the popularity / opportunities it handed him on a silver platter basically, mal was ho-ing himself around, partying it up with the elite crowd, earning himself a pretty risque rep among his peers. it wasn’t until he met his first actual serious girlfriend that he did his best to tone it tf down. and it worked, for awhile. but !! of course he fucked it all up and even though what’s done is done, he has big regrets. BIG regrets. mainly bc girl went absolutely wild and took a baseball bat to his ferrari yikes.

after graduating high school with exemplary marks, instead of taking the opportunity to potentially thrive in the big leagues of the sports world, malone opted to stick to his roots, following in his dad’s footsteps. he got accepted into hollingsworth as a pre-med student, studying all the biological sciences, and will be entering his senior year come september. his next big plan is to attend harvard to earn his medical degree and get the ball rollin.

malone still has a whole lot of growing up to do but he’s doing a lot better in comparison to his teenage fever years lmao. he loves helping others alright, giving back to the community & especially helping his frat bros whenever they’re in need. he’s very much.....a Dad in the sense that he coddles his bros but he does it while he’s drunk off his ass?? like if he isn’t winkwink busy himself winkwink, he has no issue busting down doors to check on ppl and hand out condoms like he’s jesus handing out water turned to wine.

on a sober note tho, mal is naturally loud af like.... he just has that thunderous voice that projects half a mile, and he likes to joke a lot so his laugh is even worse sdfhudgkjd. but all in all he’s a good guy ok he wants to do good for himself and everyone else, he just has issues listening to one head over... the other rip.

wanted connections ; 1) ok so uh he obviously needs his bros, i'm thinking maybe even a best bro like vinny & pauly d vibes pls let them have had a wild trip with the boys to vegas, got drunk, and married each other PLS. 2) also on that note, maybe a fella he's experimenting with?? bc he's a bicurious soul, potentially bisexual, so that would be a loAD of angst huh. 3) he need him some fwb / hook up type deals, whether they be a regular occurrence or a one time thing. 4) ex gfs!! i don't see him having like... a SHIT load of exes bc he tries to stay away from relationships but probably anywhere between 1-3?? whether they be on good terms, bad terms, lingering feelings, etc. i'm cool with whatever. 5) maybe somebody he tutors?? bc while he gives off mad Dumb Frat Bro vibes, mal is actually very intelligent and again.... he loves helping ppl out. 6) how about some enemies tho. like... idk man i'm SURE there are ppl he rubs the wrong way bc he's a pretty loud boy lmao. or maybe they think he's fake. or maybe there's some sports rivalry or frat rivalry or he broke ur bff's heart?? the possibilities are endless.

[mvlonc]

hello hey what’s good hunnies, i’m rollin up late but uh !!  my name’s maia, 25 y/o living it up it up in the ast part of the world and uh listen i don’t have discord bc i’m a literal grandma when it comes to keeping up with all the new means of being social lmao so if you would like to chat and/or plot?? just shoot me an im on here — i’m usually always mobile & i obviously love to talk a lot !  and i’m a heaux for dramatic / angst-fuelled plots .. just a little fyi … i’m excited !! so anyway !!!  onto the Idiot of the Hour you’re actually here to read about; my darling malone. i have a pinterest board for him  HERE  , a playlist for him  HERE  , his stats page set up  HERE  , and a connections page  HERE  which as you can see is bare as all hell so let’s plot <3

have you seen  MALONE SINCLAIR  since the storm? some say they look like  DACRE MONTGOMERY  but they’re  22   & go by  THE LOTHARIO .   HE  lived in halloway for  EIGHT YEARS  & they are originally from  MANHATTAN, NY . before the town vanished they were studying  BIOLOGY  and lived at  UNI BLVD . most people knew the  CIS MALE  as  BODACIOUS  but i’ve heard they can also be  EVASIVE . for some reason, they feel  UNEASY  about the town’s disappearance.

okay so homeboy here has had it pretty easy his entire life. his dad works relentlessly as chief of neurosurgery in lower manhattan and his step-mom had worked as a prestigious legal practitioner; one of the most sought out lawyers in the state, and later, a socialite. like the infamous philosopher dr justin roberts once said: “six figures, i was only four”, malone was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. while most would assume he’s a straight up trust fund punk, though, he inherited his father’s impeccable work ethic to a fault.

as an only child and therefore sole heir to the sinclair estate, his parents have been on mal’s ass his entire life to give his absolute best in everything he does. health, school, sports, friendships, relationships, the whole shebang. his marks were always near the top of his class, he excelled at his two favourite sports; hockey during the winter, baseball during the summer. but it wasn’t until he hit his mid adolescent years, started developing an interest in girls ( whom he once thought were riddled with cooties ), that his focus faltered a wee bit and good lil o’malley boy started being a teenager.

embracing his lavish lifestyle and all the popularity / opportunities it handed him on a silver platter basically, mal was ho-ing himself around, partying it up with the elite crowd, earning himself a pretty risque rep among his peers. it wasn’t until he met his first actual serious girlfriend that he did his best to tone it tf down. and it worked, for awhile. but !! of course he fucked it all up and even though what’s done is done, he has big regrets. BIG regrets. mainly bc girl went absolutely wild and took a baseball bat to the ferrari his parents had waiting for him for his 16th birthday yikes.

sO after this wild series of events, his step-mom urged the family to move back to his dad’s hometown in halloway, new hampsire. it was within reasonable travel distance for senior sinclair to fly back and forth for work, and the town seemed a lot more quaint and quiet compared to manhattan, somewhere malone could focus better on his studies. no matter how defiantly he protested, delivering as many good points to stay in new york as he possibly could to his parents, their minds were made up and so malone spent his high school years in halloway. of course, he still stirred up his fair share of drama just as he did in manhattan, and continued to party with the best of them.

after graduating high school with exemplary marks, instead of taking the opportunity to potentially thrive in the big leagues of the sports world, malone opted to stick to his roots, following in his dad’s footsteps. he got accepted into halloway university as a pre-med student, studying all the biological sciences, and would be entering his senior year come september... until shit hit the fan and all hell broke loose rip. at first, the idea of living without any sort of authority figure attempting to keep him in line was thrilling to the young man. he took full advantage of this with the rest of his fellow university students, partying it up to celebrate the end of the world. but as the days went on, malone felt ... uneasy about the false liberated situation they were in. 

what had happened to everyone’s parents? his parents? why hadn’t anyone tried to contact them, or come back for them (wherever the adults went)? were they all really left to fend for themselves - had they actually been abandoned? he’s actually pretty pissed at the thought, and also saddened but that’s not something openly he shares with the others. for now, he’s cooperatively working with the group to ensure their survival until somebody - anybody - comes back to take them to wherever it is he assumes the adults are doing the same.

wanted connections ; 1) ok so uh he obviously needs his boy(s), 1 or 2 who he’s pretty dang close with. they travelled together, were each others’ wingmen at one time or another, always have each others’ backs through thick & thin. it’d be cool if their parents had been friends and so the boys kinda grew up together like brothers. 2) also on that note, maybe a fella he’s experimenting with?? bc he’s a bicurious soul, potentially bisexual, so that would be a loAD of angst huh. 3) he need him some fwb / hook up type deals, whether they be a regular occurrence or a one time thing. 4) ex gfs!! i don’t see him having like… a SHIT load of exes bc he tries to stay away from relationships but probably anywhere between 1-3?? whether they be on good terms, bad terms, lingering feelings, etc. i’m cool with whatever. 5) maybe somebody he tutored?? bc while he gives off mad Big Dick energy and tends to think with that head lmao, mal is actually very intelligent. 6) how about some enemies tho. like… idk man i’m SURE there are ppl he rubs the wrong way bc he’s kind of narcissistic lmao. or maybe they think he’s fake. or maybe there’s some sports rivalry or classic case of polar opposites or he broke ur bff’s heart?? the possibilities are endless.

[bad-decisions-at-2am]

Prompt: “Do you think they can hear us?” “Yes we can”

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairing: Anxceit

Rating: T (Cursing, makeouts, various implied kinks)

Notes: This has the tone of enemies as lovers so the boys are antagonistic to each other, so if that’s not your tea maybe skip this. This is also more of a drabble than anything else.

He knows better. He really genuinely does. But the way Deceit tugs off his gloves between his teeth so he can take the ink stained pen off Logan’s hands and murmurs that everything is fine makes something hot race over his skin.

“Not that this isn’t the pinnacle of productive,” the lie slips out, over exaggerated,  but the way Deceit takes Logan’s hand in his own and wipes away the black staining his skin is gentle and sincere. “But perhaps you and Roman could come up with a better solution for Thomas’ schedule.”

And for some reason Logan takes a deep breath and Virgil can feel the discordant emotions in him settle on the exhale. It sets his teeth on edge but no one seems to notice. “As much as I loathe to admit it, you’re right. We’re going to have to get more creative if we’re going to make time for all these engagements.” If he didn’t know Logan so well he probably wouldn’t be able to place the expression on his face as ‘sheepish’, but he can see it in the purse of his his lips as he glances over at Roman. For his part the normally boisterous facet has been quiet since Logan’s pen snapped between his fingers.  “I’m sorry for my outburst Roman. Perhaps we can find a better solution if we work together.”

Roman seems to shake himself slightly before nodding. “Of course poindexter! We’ll figure it out, we always do.”

Deceit pats Roman on the shoulder as he moves past him, careful not to smudge ink on his clothes. “I’ll go get something to clean this up.” As he heads towards the door his eyes catch Virgil’s and he winks. Oh, rage, that’s what the heat crawling across his skin is.

“I’ll help.” Virgil mutters before any of the other’s notice that his powers are starting to pulse over his skin. No need to make them all anxious again after things had just settled down.

Logan and Roman hardly acknowledge them but Patton seems to consider him for a moment before giving him an encouraging smile. Virgil’s fairly sure the other would be giving him that look if he knew why he was following Deceit.

And follow him he does. Out of the study, it’s new, hell, the entire house is new. A whole construct in the mindscape that connects their rooms with hallways and common spaces and Virgil’s pretty sure that it’s a symbol of how much they’ve all grown and how much more closely they’re able to work with one another now. And he wants to be happy about that, he really, really does. But if he has to watch Deceit flirt with any of the others whenever he spots them in a common area he might just have to take a sledgehammer to the walls himself.

“Now now Virge, I can feel the adrenaline pouring off of you. Be careful or you’re going to kickstart a panic attack.” Deceit purrs as he stops a little ways down the hall.

“Shut up.” Not his smoothest comeback, but damn it he’s right. If he gets too frustrated Thomas is going to feel it and he doesn’t know what he’ll say. Deceit cocks a brow at him before taking one measured step towards him. Virgil straightens up and stands his ground. “What was all of that?”

“All of what?”

“Don’t be obtuse. You know what. Logan was anxious. That means it was my job to step in and help him.” Why did Deceit move before he even got the chance? Why did he take off his gloves, why did he touch him?

Deceit circles him, it’s not an uncommon occurrence, but Virgil isn’t really in the mood for it. “Your job, sure, but are you really any good at it?”

The hall light shatters and casts them in shadows. Virgil stands stock still, caught under their pull, soaked in doubt and fear, anger bubbling up black behind them. In the low light he sees Deceit flinch, shoot a worried glance between the ceiling and him, before he twists his expression into a scowl.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re so worried about taking care of the others and even just one off-hand comment can reduce you to this.”

He feels his body move before he gives it permission, feels his hands press against Deceit’s shoulders and push him until his back hits the wall. His fingers tangle in the fabric of the other’s collar and for a second he wants to wrap a hand around his throat and let fear sink so deeply into Deceit’s scales that he’ll be reduced to a quivering puddle on the floor. But then he realizes the other facet’s mouth is open, forked tongue peaking out from behind his teeth lightning fast to smell the air.

“Oh.”

Heat flares down Virgil’s neck.

“Oh, Virgil.” And there’s something soft in the words.

“Shut up.” But his hands are shaking, his shoulders, and the shadows aren’t angrily licking at his skin anymore, sinking into a writhing pool at his feet, twitching in reflection of his own nerves.

Deceit’s ungloved hand wraps around the back of his neck and Virgil wants to resist, but he lets himself relax into the touch, lets Deceit guide his head to rest against his shoulder. They don’t say anything for a long moment until the last of his anger leaves him in a rushed exhale.

“I need you to let me do my job.” He finally says.

“I need you to take better care of yourself first.” Deceit’s lips brush against the top of his head as he speaks. “But I won’t interfere again unless it looks like you’re in over your head.” And it sounds like the truth. Maybe it even is. “Now, getting you jealous on the other hand, I make no promises about.”

“Fuck off, I was not jealous.”

Deceit uses the hand on his neck to force him to look up. “Of course you weren’t. You also totally didn’t follow me out here to stake your claim.” He purrs.

“I hate you.” He doesn’t know if he means it or not. Deceit will.

“I know,” the acknowledgment does nothing to clarify his feelings before Deceit’s mouth is slanting itself over his. Virgil presses back, feeling whe whisper of fangs over his skin before he opens his mouth to let the unusually shaped, but oh so familiar tongue, inside. He feels the hands drop to his hips and hold on tightly as Deceit pushes away from the wall, walks Virgil to the one on the other side of the hall.

Virgil can feel the shadows of fear and doubt melt away. Because he’s scared and unsure of a lot of things, but this, this he knows what to do with. He knocks away the other’s ridiculous hat and lets his fingers curl into Deceit’s hair. He gives it a hard tug, swallows the hiss that escapes the other facet in return. He manages a soft gasp as Deceit’s lips move from his, nip across his jaw, and along his neck. Sharp hollow fangs glide over his skin and leave stinging tracks in their wake, a threat, a promise. That if things get to be too much Deceit will fill his veins up with truth venom and let him fall apart completely before he helps put him back together again. Virgil shudders against him with the need to be closer.

“C’mon,” He mutters, pulls Deceit closer, gasps softly as his bare fingers slip under his hoodie and shirt to press crescent moons into the skin of his hips.

“What?”

“Don’t be a dick.” He catches Deceit’s lip between his teeth, bites hard enough he knows it hurts more than anything else. But it gets Deceit to press him hard against the wall, to press the full line of his body against his front and Virgil chokes out a soft groan.

“Virgil,” and he doesn’t like that tone of voice. It does not promise wonderful, naked skin, rough things. He cuts the other facet off with a searing kiss. Tires to lick the doubts right out of the other’s mouth. But then there’s a hand around his throat, much gentler than he wants it, and pushing him back until his head meets the wall with a soft thump. Deceit leans in his lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “The other’s are right down the hall.”

“Shit,” it’s like dumping a bucket of ice water over him. It’s not like the lightbulb breaking or their argument had been quiet. And if that had gotten their attention then-- “Do you think they can hear us?”

“Yes, we can.” The words come in Logan’s clipped tone, spoken loudly and clearly from beyond the study’s door.

Virgil feels his face heat and the soft huff of Deceit’s laughter against the shell of his ear. “Shut up, asshole.”

“Ahem, if you two have… other things to do…” Virgil can physically feel Romans mortification at his own phrasing, “w-we’ve got things handled in here!” He finishes weakly.

He’s debating if it’s worth the embarrassment of going and facing them or if he’d be better off sulking in his room for a few days until he thinks he could look them in the eyes, but Deceit calls back. “We’ll be in my room if you need us.”

“Be safe and have fun you two!” Patton calls back brightly.

Maybe he should go ask Roman to borrow his sword. He could use it to slit his own throat. Or maybe he’ll slit Deceit’s first. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

Taking pairings from this list