#this is one of those things that confuses & frustrates me so much i literally can't even think about what to do in response

[pa-pa-plasma]

i don't get people who think other people's pets are theirs. like where does that type of fucked up even come from

[fairyhaos]

❖ i am all of you // lee jihoon

woozi x gn!reader, 1.7k+ words

tags: requested by @mirxzii, established relationship, producer!woozi, scriptwriter!yn, hurt/comfort

warnings: pet names (babe, darling), food mention

summary: on the days you feel exhausted, lost to the clouds of fear and fatigue, you wonder whether anything in the world will ever be fine again. not to worry, though. because jihoon always finds you, and he brings you home.

Jihoon kind of misses you. 

Okay, that's a lie, because he actually misses you a lot, because even though you're right here and you say hello to him in the morning and you eat your meals together and you say “I love you” to him at night, you're still not… here. 

You get like this, sometimes, where you're all stuck in your head and he can't get you out. Anything he says doesn't seem to register, not really, because you'll hum in response before drifting away again to somewhere he can't reach. 

“Y/N?”

Jihoon knocks on your door, gentle. You emerged from your room to have breakfast, but you've been stuck inside ever since, and, well. It's like he said. 

He kind of misses you a lot. 

“Jihoon?”

“Are you okay in there?” he asks. “Just checking up on you, babe. I haven't heard from you in a while.”

“I'm okay,” you say back, and even though you're only on the other side of the door, you sound distant. “I'm just tired, that's all.”

He hums, sceptical. “Are you sure? Can I come in?”

“I don't see why not,” you say, and he opens the door and cautiously peers inside. 

You’re lying in bed, pillows propped up behind your head, quite literally doing nothing other than staring emptily up at the ceiling. When Jihoon enters the room, you look over in response to the sound and wave at him from the bed looking confused but also very, very exhausted, and something in his heart twists sadly.

He walks over to you, leans over, and presses a hand to your forehead. You look up in confusion, going a little cross-eyed as you try to see his hand on your head. 

“What are you doing?”

“Checking for a fever,” Jihoon responds matter-of-factly. He takes his hand away, presses it against his own forehead before feeling yours once again. 

“Hey, hey, I'm fine,” you say, waving his hand away. “I'm not sick.”

“Then why are you in bed?” he says. “It's so sunny today, Y/N. Normally, you'd be the one pestering me to get out of bed so we can go on those walks that you love so much. What's wrong, Y/N? Can you please tell me what's wrong?”

You fall silent, looking away. 

See, he thinks he kind of knows what's wrong. 

Not the exact reason, of course, but he knows that you're getting this tired and withdrawn from him because there's something in your life that's making you overwhelmed. Whether it's a situation that's happened or something you fear will happen in the future, if it scares you enough then you'll end up retreating in this way. 

Jihoon knows it's your way of coping when things get too much, but it frustrates him, because all he wants to do is take care of you but you won't let him in. 

“Please,” he says. Gently, simply. “Can you tell me what's wrong so that I can help?”

So he asks. He asks, and waits so, so patiently, silently begging you to please let him in. 

You slowly shake your head. 

“Nothing's wrong,” you say, and then shrug, like everything's fine. “I just need to take a nap.”

“I had to wake you up at noon for breakfast, today,” Jihoon points out, frowning. “And it's four in the afternoon. Why do you need a nap?”

You just shake your head again. “I just do.”

He opens his mouth, ready to refute, but you abruptly pull the covers over yourself and bury your head into your pillow again. A clear sign you want to end the conversation. 

“Goodbye, Jihoon,” you say, voice muffled by the sheets, and Jihoon sighs. 

“I'll let you know when dinner is ready, okay?” he says, and you make a soft noise in reply. He looks over at you again, before walking out of your room and closing the door. 

───────────── ⛅

It’s only thirty minutes later that he knocks on your door again.

He can’t help it. You two aren’t exactly the clingiest couple in the world: what with Jihoon’s work and your busy life, you can’t really afford to be so codependent. There have been days where you barely speak to each other, both absorbed in projects that take up all your time and leave you unable to indulge in the typical cuddly affection that other couples take part in.

This is what happens, he supposes, when a music producer and scriptwriter decide to date. Not that he minds, because he loves you, and he knows you love him too, and neither of you mind the lack of physical touch because often, the knowledge of that love is enough.

Just because you’re not the clingiest doesn’t mean that he likes not spending time with you, though.

Especially when you’re right there.

“Y/N? I’m coming in,” he says, and opens the door before you can answer. You’re lying in exactly the same position that he’d left you in, and you look over as the door opens again with a mildly annoyed expression on your face, as if Jihoon was interrupting your very precious time of doing absolutely nothing.

The mild irritation melts into confusion as you spot the things he’s holding. “Why did you bring your laptop with you?”

“Laptop and chocolate,” Jihoon emphasises, holding up the bag of chocolate coins in his other hand as he pushes the door shut with his elbow. “I’m here to do my work. And give you chocolate. Move over, will you?”

You give him a curious look, but still obediently shuffle over in bed so that he can climb in and sit there beside you, back against the headboard, opening up his laptop and immediately clicking on his emails. He doesn’t look at you, seemingly absorbed in answering whatever is sitting in his inbox, the bag of chocolate plopped onto the covers between you two.

“Jihoon?”

Jihoon hums in response.

“What are you doing?”

He glances at you briefly, and pats your head. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to drag you into doing anything. Just pretend I’m not here, okay?” He goes back to his work, and then adds, “Oh, and eat the chocolate.”

You furrow your brow, mystified by his behaviour. This is… weird. You’ve had episodes like this before, where the foreboding lump in your throat joins forces with the anxiety that sits, ice-cold, in your chest, and you end up with a bone-deep exhaustion that leaves you terrified to do anything at all. Every time, Jihoon seems to understand, leaving you to your own devices to work through the fatigue until you feel better. He might bring you soup, or remind you to brush your teeth, but never anything like this.

The soft click-clacking of his keyboard is quite soothing, you’ll admit, but it’s still not quite enough for you to stop teetering on the edge of this crushing exhaustion and finally sleep.

“Jihoon,” you murmur, looking up at him again. “Jihoon, seriously, what are you doing?”

His fingers stop moving, and he looks over at you once more, before looking at the untouched bag of chocolate coins. Wordlessly, he opens it, unwraps one, and presses it against your lips. 

“I’m feeding you chocolate coins,” he says, and something about the deadpan way he says it makes you smile, allowing him to push the chocolate into your mouth. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“No, I can see that,” you say around a mouthful of sticky, warm sweetness. Hm. Eating it makes the weight in your chest feel a little lighter, actually. “I just…”

Jihoon raises an eyebrow at you, but there’s no unkindness in his expression. He unwraps another chocolate for you, and you dutifully eat it, letting the overwhelming sweetness coat your teeth as you melt it down in your mouth, making the most of the taste.

“What are you doing here, though?” you ask, as your boyfriend deposits the metal wrappers on the bedside table next to him. “Babe, if you’re here to take care of me… it’s okay. I’m fine.”

He looks at you again, and smiles. “Silly. I’m not here to look after you.”

Wait, what?

“You can do whatever you need to do,” Jihoon continues, as he goes back to his laptop and starts click-clacking away again. “Rest, sleep, try to turn yourself invisible, whatever. You do you, darling. I’m just here because I want to spend time with you.”

“Jihoon,” you breathe out, touched. You are certain that there are stars in your eyes. “Jihoon, I love you.”

He chuckles, and finishes sending off the email. He jostles you around in bed for a moment, pulling you close until you’re resting against him, and though the position is uncomfortable, you don’t protest.

“I love you too,” he says, patting your head affectionately. “Now, don’t worry about what I’m doing, alright? Just let me spend time with you.”

Jihoon may pretend otherwise, but he really is soft. He gives and he gives and he gives, always, and that’s what he’s doing right now. He’s giving you all of him, under the pretence that he’s doing this for himself but you know him, know him like the other half of your heart, and your chest squeezes at how gentle he is with you, especially now. When you’re at your most vulnerable.

And instead of getting frustrated at your distance, at how far away you were floating from him, he brings your back down to Earth, pretending it’s all for him but you know, you know that he’s bringing you back to safety for you.

Pressed up against him, leaning into his side, you finally let yourself cry, the hot, stinging tears tracing paths down your cheeks. Jihoon doesn’t say anything, and instead pulls you closer, fingers threading through your hair as you cry quietly against him until you tire yourself out fully and there are no tears left for you to cry anymore. 

It’s kind of cathartic—freeing, the way you let yourself succumb to the exhaustion, comforted by the knowledge that Jihoon is there beside you as your tears die down, and you lie there beside him, taking deep, shaky breaths, heartbeat finally slowing down.

And at last, you close your eyes and sleep.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @melodicrabbit

[starlightsuffered]

Be Professional (The End)

Warning - Smut, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex, breaking machinery, no more cocky timo

I had been avoiding Timothée like the plague since his little confession. I was trying desperately to work out my feelings. I missed the sex, a lot, however, I also found, I missed him.

I missed his stupid guffaw of a laugh. I missed the way he actually said interesting things in interviews. I missed his jokes, even if most of them annoyed me. Why did I feel like this? I was supposed to hate him. He was a rival, a rival that was good at fucking, but I wasn't supposed to fall. Arg the stupid idiot had confused me so much ! didn't know what made sense anymore.

My friend was unhelpful as shit. She suggested giving him an apology blow job and just start dating him. I couldn't do that.

Timothée had been different since that night. He was no longer jovial and cheeky, he was solemn and serious.

He used to be so social, almost over the top social. He now preferred to eat in his trailer instead of with us. He was gone the moment he was allowed to be. He didn't talk unless directly spoken to, and he only smiled if he knew it would be a bad look to frown. He was......Professional.

How had I had such an affect on him? After all, I was some nobody. He'd literally asked why I was on this project at all.

It was one of the last days of our press tour, and we were walking in silence back to the hotel. These were the times I hated the most. The director always sent us back to the hotel together, hoping to ramp up excitement for the movie by our picture being taken together. It was always an awkward and silent journey. He never even looked my way.

We got into the elevator, and he pressed the number for our floor. The elevator ran smoothly for a second then it shuddered. I grabbed out to Timothée without thinking as lights flickered. We came to a slamming halt. The doors opened an inch, but there was solid wall peeking between them. A red emergency light was all that lit the area, washing us in scarlet. The elevator was stuck.

"What the hell," I said worriedly as I pressed the button for our floor over and over.

"I don't think that's going to work," Timothée said.

"Would you shut up," I ground out. I looked at my phone, of course, no signal.

"We'll probably have to wait it out. I pressed the emergency button," he said calmly. I gave him a look of wonderment.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" I demanded, and he shrugged.

"Urrrg you are so irritating," | snapped.

"

"Maybe I am, but this time you can't fuck me about it, so maybe we should talk like adults," Timothée retorted.

"Adults?" I demanded. "Now you want to be adults? You were the one always acting like a goof ball on set, you were the one always touching me and winding me up, and you're the one who initiated the whole sex thing in the first place. So don't tell me I need to act like an adult!"

"Did you ever consider why I did those things?" He asked, running a hand through his curls in frustration.

"Because you're an asshole celebrity who can get away with anything?"

"Because I fucking liked you," he said as though it were obvious.

"You what?" I asked softly.

"I was yours from the second you walked up to me and yelled at me," he confessed, and my back thudded against the wall as I took in the information. "I wasn't even asking the director what you thought | was. I was asking if you had any history in the industry because I know your first movie can be scary. I was trying to see how I could help you."

"You were?" | asked.

"Yes, but then you thought was a jerk and you weren't backing down. The only way I could get your attention was to rile you up."

"Timothée, stop," | said, feeling too much pressure building in me.

卩

"No, I won't, I want to be with you y/n, I want to spoil you, and fuck you, nicely, and kiss you, and not worry about who sees hickeys on our necks because they know we're crazy about each other. Why are you so afraid of this?"

"Because you're you," I whispered, eyes squeezed shut.

"What does that mean?" He asked.

"You are the Timothée Chalamet. You were in Dune, Willy Wonka, Little Women, Call Me By Your Name, fucking game changing movies!"

"So you do know some of my movies," he chuckled. I opened my eyes and looked at him. His eyes were large and pleading, his curls awry from his fidgety hands. He was so beautiful it nearly hurt.

"I don't want people to say I fucked my way to the top. I've worked too hard for this. That's why you always annoyed me so much. One wrong move and I could lose my dream forever. You could do anything you wanted and they wouldn't care. Even if you had been telling the director that he made a bad casting decision, it wouldn't matter, you'd still be there the next day."

I couldn't look at his fallen expression anymore so I sunk to the floor and talked to it instead.

"You piss me off because I wasn't supposed to like you this much. I was also being unprofessional because I knew I wanted you. I've never had feelings this strong, good or bad, in my entire life, and they're all attached to you. It scares the shit out of me."

He was sliding down to the floor too. He took my hands in his and my lip trembled. He was holding me so gently.

He had never held me gently like this before.

"I have crazy strong feelings for you too, and I really don't want to ignore them. However, I one hundred percent get where you're coming from. It'll be hard, but I'll back off if you say this isn't a sacrifice you can make for me."

I looked up into his eyes. They were mixed with equal parts hope and dread. I wanted to give him hope, but could I?

Just then the doors shut. The lights flickered back on and we were moving. He helped me up as we finally got to our floor. We were greeted by a team of workers who were all apologies. I could barely take it all in, it was sensory overload after what had just happened. Timothée turned on the charm and led us through the crowd.

Finally, we were at our doors. Timothée turned to me, I still hadn't given him an answer. Would I be okay leaving things here? I pictured my life after this moment. I'd cry myself to sleep, wake up the next day and try not to look at or think about Timothée. Then we'd go out separate ways. I wouldn't see him again. I wouldn't hold him again, wouldn't hear one of his cheesy jokes again, wouldn't kiss him again, would never have him inside me again. Could I do it?

"Do you have your room key?" he said.

"Yes," | replied, turning towards him.

"Well are you going to go into your room?" He asked.

"No."

"Why?" He breathed.

"I'll tell you why Chalamet," | said with a wild grin. I saw his eyes sparkle with hope.

"Why?" He asked again.

"Because you," I said, walking to him and placing my hands on his chest. "Are the best l've ever had, and also, totally worth it."

His smile nearly split his face in two as he grabbed my face to kiss me. I was beaming into the kiss. He broke it off with a joyous laugh, and picked me up and spun me around. I was laughing now too, heart full and content.

He struggled with the door because he wouldn't stop kissing me for even a moment. When we got in the room he carried me to the bed. His lips must have connected with every part of my bare skin. I was sighing with happiness as I felt my boys lips. MY boy.

"Come here you," I said pulling his face to mine for a long kiss.

"I'm obsessed with you," he said earnestly.

"Same here," | beamed back.

"First things first," he said and his lips went to my neck. He sucked the skin into his mouth. His hands went under my shirt to brush as my nipples as he suckled. I moaned.

"There we go," he said smiling at his work.

"Does it look good?" I asked, pretending to pose with my neck exposed.

"Almost as beautiful as you" he said, and my stomach flipped at the words. I bit my lip, and he leaned down to kiss me. The kiss was slow and passionate. I did take his lip between my teeth, but it was a gentle nibble, opposed to the harsh teeth I'd used to use on him.

He sat up and took off his shirt. I let my hands lovingly caress his abdomen. His eyes fluttered shut.

"Do you know how long l've wanted you to touch me like this," he asked in a near whisper.

"Too long," | answered, and he nodded. He began to unbutton my shirt. He was moving carefully, as if scared I'd run away from him. I wasn't going anywhere. He got my shirt off and kissed my stomach.

"You have got to be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said. He unlatched my bra and threw it to the ground. He took a second to look at me before he was flattening his tongue against my nipples.

"Oh, Timothée," I sighed.

"That's it," he said. "That's how I wanted to hear you say my name this whole time."

"My Timothée," | breathed, as he began to work on my nipples again.

I felt him undo the button of my pants. I helped him get them off me. He kissed his way down my body, and took my underwear in his mouth. He dragged them down as I watched him avidly.

"I'm going to worship your pussy," he promised as he dove in. He lapped between my folds. I grabbed his curls, and he moaned into me. I didn't pull as hard as I normally did, just enough to please him.

"Fuck, right there, so good," | moaned as his tongue circled my clit before landing on it. His licks were long and loving, and the way he gripped my thighs with a gentle strength made me weak. Sure I liked being marked up, but l liked this better.

"I'm so close," | admitted. He switched up the direction of his tongue and I curled my toes. I panted as he continued. Finally, I was calling his name as I came undone.

Timothée's head emerged, face shiny with my juices, and a smile on his face.

"I always wanted to ask if you really feel as good as you sound?" He said.

"Yes, absolutely, you are a God with that tongue of yours," I said.

"Well, it's only for you," he winked.

"Better be," I said. "Now please take off your pants."

"Eager are we?" He chuckled.

"Yes, I'm addicted to your cock," I said, it was my turn to wink as I brought up his old words.

"That whole cocky thing was an act. My heart was going a mile a minute hoping you wouldn't think I was repulsive. It seemed like it was the only way you'd interact with me, so I put it on."

"That is adorable," | said truthfully. "But I wasn't lying, I am addicted."

"Fuck," Timothée said with a shudder.

He quickly took off his pants, his cock springing from his boxers. I knew he hadn't intended for me to help him, but I moved fast. My mouth was around his length in seconds.

"Ugh, baby," he groaned, and the pet name spurred me on. I bobbed my head, taking all of him I could into my throat.

"Fuck, so good, so good," he panted.

"Stop," he said, pulling me off. "I need to cum inside you, please."

"Absolutely," | agreed, and pulled him down on me. He kissed me long and hard before lining himself up with

me.

"You ready?" He asked, I bit my lip and nodded. He pushed into me.

"Merde," Timothée cursed, head dipping into my neck as pleasure over took him.

"You feel so good," I told him. He began to thrust. It wasn't fast, but it was deep and powerful, each movement hitting me in my sweet spot.

"Ah, ah," I moaned. "Fuck, Timothée, you're so good, you're so pretty, you fuck me so well."

I was whining, making the sounds l'd always wanted to make for him before. He seemed to be loving my vocalness. He was kissing me heatedly, as he swallowed my whimpers.

He reached down to knead my breasts as he fucked me. He was hitting me so deep it seemed impossible.

"I'm so close," He told me.

"Me too," I whined.

"Look at me when you come please," he begged. I could only nod, completely lost to pleasure as he his hips snapped forward. I locked my legs around his waist, wanting him deeper. I wanted to be one with him.

"Oh, Timothée, I'm gonna come," I moaned and I looked into his eyes as the best orgasm l'd ever experienced washed over me. Wave after wave of bliss was hitting me, so that I was nearly convulsing as I called his name. He came soon after me, cumming ropes of cum inside me, keeping his eyes on mine.

"I think I'm falling in love with you," he confessed as he pressed his forehead against mine.

"You're not the only one Chalamet," I teased.

After hours of talking, I fell asleep in Timothée's arms. I was awoken by the ring of my phone. It was our director.

Timmy's eyes opened groggily as I answered. He smiled sweetly at me.

"Hello?" | croaked.

"You guys did it haha, the story about you two getting stuck in an elevator is everywhere!" He cheered.

"Yes, well, we make quite the team," I said smiling at Timothée. Then I hung up so I could kiss my boyfriend.

[blackbirdi]

Game Night (Not a Good Idea)

Brief Description: Things heard during Wayne family game night.

Point of View: 3rd Person

Word Count: 1334

Character: Batfam x platonic!Reader

Every Sunday Bruce tries to get all his kids (whether adopted or not) back to the manor for supper and a game night. And while some of the time the games are fun and a bonding moment for everyone, most of the time it's a battleground.

Things said playing: Super Smash Bros

A very pissed off Timothy Drake: DAMIAN! I AM ON YOUR TEAM; STOP PUSHING ME OFF!

–––––––––––

A frustrated Stephanie Brown: DODGE IT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?

Y/n L/n: *Playing the game for the first time in years* I don't know the controls...

–––––––––––

Jason Todd throwing his controller against the wall after his team lost for the seventh time in a row: THIS IS BULLSHIT!

***

Things said playing: Twister

A defeated before the game even begins Duke Thomas: No. Straight up, no. We all know Dick's going to win; what's the point in even playing?

–––––––––––

A very flexible and cocky Dick Grayson: What do you mean you can't reach the green circle? It's literally so easy!

Jason: *His eye twitching* Kill yourself.

–––––––––––

A tired of the complaining, Bruce Wayne: Dick, you're not playing this round.

Dick, heartbroken: What? Why?

The rest of the Batkids: *Cheering*

***

Things said playing: Jenga

Damian Wayne, who just knocked the tower over: DRAKE BUMPED INTO ME! HE MADE ME KNOCK IT OVER JUST SO I WOULD LOSE!

Tim, who is sitting over ten feet from him: What? No, I didn't.

Damian: YES, YOU DID!

–––––––––––

A very confused and slightly disappointed Barbara Gordon: Why did you choose that one?

Y/n, who chose the most difficult one to remove: *Practically in tears* I DON'T KNOW!

–––––––––––

Anyone after knocking the tower over: I fucking hate this game.

***

Things said playing: Among Us

*While they're waiting in the lobby (the game hasn't even begun)*

Tim: It's Damian.

Damian: Fuck you.

–––––––––––

Bruce, after being the first killed for the fifth time in a row: Do you hate me that much?

Steph (a crewmate): *Walking past Bruce's body and not reporting it* Yes.

Babs (a crewmate), who people are now suspecting: You're not supposed to give any hints that you got killed, Bruce.

–––––––––––

*Y/n and Cass being revealed as the imposters*

The Batfamily after being positive that Y/n and Cass were the only ones who weren't the imposters (other than those murdered): WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WERE THE IMPOSTER?

Y/n and Cass: *Cackling*

***

Things said playing: Charades

Jason, after they ran out of time and didn't guess it: *Looking at the card* What you acted out was not fucking Ratatouille.

Damian, who was very much not doing anything to hint towards Ratatouille: YES, IT WAS!

–––––––––––

Babs after picking up the most complicated things possible to act out: What the fuck is this?

–––––––––––

Bruce: I burned the zombie card by the way.

Jason, Tim, Steph, Damian, and Y/n: *Groaning in disappointment*

***

Things said playing: Just Dance

Cass: *Doing everything perfectly*

Everyone else: How the fuck are you doing that?

–––––––––––

Cass: *Giggling* What are you doing?

Y/n: I don't fucking know.

–––––––––––

Tim: HOW DID DUKE GET SECOND!?

Duke: I am the epitome of a graceful dancer, Tim. *Proceeds to trip over the coffee table and land flat on his face*

***

Things said playing: Any game involving riddles

Any of the Batkids: I CALL DUKE/STEPH!

–––––––––––

Bruce: *Reading a riddle that was writing in Shakespearean (ye old English)*

All of the Batkids: w h a t

–––––––––––

Duke/Steph: I'm telling you, it's *correct answer*

Jason: No, it's not. It's *very much the wrong answer*

Duke/Steph, feeling petty: Fine, we'll go with *Jason's answer*

Bruce: It's *the answer Duke/Steph originally had*

Duke/Steph: *Waiting for Jason to admit they were right*

Jason:

Jason, who refuses to take the blame: Jeez, you're terrible at this game.

***

Things said playing: Spoons

(if you don't know what Spoons is, search it up because I don't know how to describe it, but it is the most fun game ever and you're missing out.)

Y/n: *Holding onto the spoon like her life depends on it* YOU CAN'T GRAB IT FROM ME! IT'S ALREADY IN MY HAND!

Steph: *Clawing at Y/n's hand* GIVE IT HERE!

–––––––––––

Dick: *Cradling his hand* I think Jason broke my hand.

Jason, with the most "I don't give a shit" voice ever: Damn. That sucks.

–––––––––––

All the Batkids at one point: *Quite literally throwing themselves across the table to grab the last spoon*

Bruce: *Tired Dad SighTM*

***

Things said playing: Monopoly

Jason, who owns all but one railroad: I swear to God, Tim, if you land on the last railroad and buy it...

Tim, lands on the last rail road: *Buys it*

Jason: *Lunges across the table to strangle him*

–––––––––––

Y/n, after buying Park Place a while ago: *Lands on Boardwalk* You bitches are about to be financially murdered.

–––––––––––

*After red hotels have been added to over half the board, and there are at least two green houses on every spot*

Duke: Can I just stay in jail?

***

Things said playing: Uno

Cass: Uno!

Steph: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Tim: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Y/n: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Jason: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Duke: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Dick: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Damian: *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Babs: Sorry, Cass *Places Pick Up 4 card*

Cass:

Cass, trying not to fucking snap: You guys fucking suck.

(I'm sobbing. She's picking up 28 cards. NOOO, CASS)

–––––––––––

*It's down to just Tim and Damian; the others have all gotten rid of their cards*

Tim, after being skipped for the fifth time in a row: *Near tears* HOW MANY FUCKING SKIP CARDS DO YOU HAVE?

Damian: *Placing another one down* Yes.

–––––––––––

*Whenever someone wins*

The rest of the Batkids: *Starts a fist fight*

*Cue Uno getting banned from being played at a Game Night.*

***

Things said playing: Mario Kart

Babs, throwing a green shell: *Bounces off the wall and hits her instead of the person ahead of her* I'm going to kill someone.

–––––––––––

Dick: *Picks Rainbow Road*

The rest of the Batkids: Fuck you.

–––––––––––

Cass, before they start playing: Oh, I suck at this game.

Cass: *Wins over half the races*

–––––––––––

Jason: DID YOU JUST FUCKING BLUE SHELL ME!?

Y/n: Yup.

Jason: YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! I WAS JUST ABOUT TO WIN!

Y/n: That's why I did it.

–––––––––––

Steph: *Getting pissed that she got 2nd*

Bruce: *Trying to console her* It's fine, Steph. It's just a game.

Steph: JUST A GAME!? JUST A GAME, HUH!? THEN YOU FUCKING PLAY IT, BRUCE!

Bruce: *Too scared to play with his kids because of how angry he's been seeing them getting* No.

Steph: That's what I fucking thought.

–––––––––––

Y/n, after being hit by Jason's red shell for the third time in a row: *Throwing the controller at Jason* I'M DONE! I'M FUCKING DONE!

Jason: *Cackles*

–––––––––––

Tim: *Looking at someone else's screen and not realizing it* I am so good at this.

*His character is actually continuously hitting a wall*

–––––––––––

Duke: *Gets a blue shell* It's over for you, Cass!

Damian: *Uses Thunderbolt, thus getting rid of Duke's blue shell before he can use it*

*Duke, trying to stop himself from attacking Damian*

–––––––––––

Damian: *About to get first place* And victory is–

Duke: *Blue shells him* That's what you get, you little bastard.

*Damian proceeds to literally bite Duke*

––––––––––

*Bruce, trying to ban Mario Kart from Game Night*

All the Batkids: BOO! I'm not coming back if you do.

*Mario Kart has not been banned*

***

Bonus! (Involves only Babs, Dick, Jason, Steph, Cass, Tim, and Y/n)

Things said playing: Cards Against Humanity

Y/n, holding the prompt for this round: *Looking at the responses the rest gave her* You all are fucking terrible human beings.

Babs: It's a damn game, Y/n. No one actually meant it.

Dick: Hey! My card was not that bad!

Cass: Come on, it's funny!

Jason: Yes.

Steph: Thank you.

Tim: You're one to talk.

[richeeduvie]

✭ UNDOING ✭

PART ONE? // The Sickness That is a Daughter

AN ARCANE FIC: JINX AND SILCO (featuring a Sevika who's actually soft for a hot minute??)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

WORD COUNT: 6.8K

Powder gets very sick, but not sick enough to believe she can't help with every little thing. In his frustrated attempts to convince his ward otherwise, he scares her. Sometimes, the idea that Silco only wants Zaun's respect feels like a fantasy, a lie so tasteful that he almost forgets he likes to be feared.

But not in that moment. Never with her.

(Based on the headcanon that Silco only started to wear makeup to not scare Jinx when she was little Powder. Sorry blog regulars had to pop this one out...probably not gonna write more Arcane stuff but I HAD this idea and I needed to GET IT OUT I'M SORRY LALO AND ROMAN LOVERS…tell me what y’all think tho)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.

Silco never put much thought into how little Powder would feel about his face. At this point in life, people either ignore it or fear him because of it. Sometimes it's a neutral, sometimes an advantage. He makes do with what Vander gave him. The girl only questioned it once, a couple days after he took her in all those months ago. It'll be...

A year and some already. And how he's weakened so readily. There is no guilt in the way Silco came to accept his feelings for her. His child that has so much fire, sometimes he's so desperate to nurture it, but other times, he just wants to watch it burn. It's alright. He'll never go anywhere.

"...What's with the eye?"

He took it as a moment to be cheeky. It wasn't his first day on earth, he remembers what children become comfortable with. It was just...he didn't know why it came easy, the desire to see her, Powder Blue, almost-daughter of brother betrayal, comfortable with him. But it's how he ended up where he is now. An almost father.

He's not going to deny it for the sake of ego. Like his deepening care for Powder, it's not beneficial for him.

If you are to not consider the blooming of his flamed heart and angry, coiling bones beneficial.

"I fell on my cigar."

Silco played it seriously. Powder stared before she giggled. Her knobby arms splayed out on the table as she rested her chin there.

"Come on, I'm not stupid. No WAY you fell on your cigar. Your eye would stink like shit!"

His lips flattened into the first smile he ever gave her.

"Language."

Silco was already natural in his discipline (although with every downward tilt of Powder's head, he finds every consequence for her actions slipping away), even when the corners of himself flashed Vander over him - through the water, holding him down and down and down. And he didn't feel the need to tell Powder the truth about what happened to him, to hurt Vander's blue-haired...scrawny extension. Looking at her toothy smile meant not even a thought of hurting her like that.

Is this what being a parent is? Having someone you never want hurt in a world of fatal things? Why would he do this to himself? Why doesn't he end up claiming it's so he can hone in on her growing, literally explosive talents? Why is it so obvious that it's growing into a braided bond that's noosed around his neck. He'll accept the hanging.

But now...now she's hurt. Sick, at least. In this moment, with the way he's feeling watching Powder tiny in the bed, sweating -- confused, he almost regrets taking her in at all.

How could he choose to feel like he's going to rot and burn all at once at the first, first sight of her in pain? It feels like his own sickness. Who'd choose to feel like death with your body still upright?

Fathers. Even if Silco doesn't think the word yet.

"Powder, where does it hurt the most?"

Silco doesn't blink as Powder turns her body on her side, somehow curled and stretched all at once. Her little, round and bug-eyed - a face he's become familiar with, twists. The familiarity makes a difference with how he wants this over now. He thinks, at least.

"Everywhere."

"Everywhere. All alright. I suppose we'll work with that. When did you start feeling like this, how long was it before you came into my room and told me you weren't feeling well?"

Powder blinks hard, but up at the ceiling instead of Silco. "I was...my throat was sore in the morning, I thought it was gonna go away. It always used to go away when they could find things to make soup. But then I started to get sweaty...even though its cold. Why is it cold? I wanna pull my hair out."

"Your hair is fine where it is. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Why did you wait until you were at your absolute worst to crawl into my bed and make me feel like death is coming onto me instead?

Silco noticed that this morning, or yesterday's morning, the way there was no natural cheekiness or child-like intensity, a searing fire that is Powder. What a terrible thing that is. The years will come to pass and the man wonders if she can twist all the things that she is, all the things that will happen to her into something of normalcy. He doesn't think that ideal, they're - she, they're fine as is.

"I told you, I thought it was gonna go bye-bye, like how everything goes away."

Powder sniffles. Silco does not move for a dragging moment, just until he reaches out his thin, cold palm to press to her forehead.

She's burning from the inside.

"Not everything, little girl."

Powder mms. Is it a whine of pain, or a whine of annoyance at the idea she's being corrected? Silco wouldn't know at this point. Maybe one day, when the whole of her grows into something fiery, invasive, jerking, something so insanely nerved, and something he'll always want to take care of to the point where Sevika will see it pointless to mention how much of a problem the girl is.

Silco sighs, eyes closed, ears pierced at the sound of Powder's pained whimpers.

"We'll find you a doctor."

"...A what?"

Silco opens his eyes, head tilting. What? "A doctor, Powder. Because you cannot go five minutes without throwing up, and I'm afraid you'll sweat off a pound you can't afford to lose."

"I don't know what that is. I don't want one."

That's when the man runs his thumb over the sweat of her forehead, wading in the thought that...this - is this really the world the children of Zaun grow up in? He knows it's a hell he's trying to maintain, trying to change for the better, for all of them - so he very much knows that its people aren't going to have the best access to easy, decent health, but he wouldn't have thought it so far that Powder and others wouldn't know what a doctor is.

Unfortunately, he hopes it's her sickly delirium, making her believe she doesn't know what a doctor is. But if not, this is why he's doing what he does, so Zaun can thrive.

Powder coughs. It's nearly manic, all in her throat. Silco kisses her forehead. He doesn't know what else to do because he's not a doctor and might as well have taken his injector and placed it over his heart with the way he's feeling at the sight of her right now.

"We'll make you soup."

It'll be nothing, he won't put Powder in a life where she has to hope that her guardians are able to find things to heal her. That's not a life this wild thing deserves.

Powder coughs again, it's heavy.

"And you'll see a doctor. Or, a doctor will see you. They can only make you feel better. Unless you try to bite them like you did Sevika when she came to check on you, then they'll put you down."

A false meanness that can only bring her smile, or at the very least, a whine without pain.

Powder jolts upright.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT???"

Silco shushes, it feels like a smile on his tongue.

"I'm fooling you, little girl. But I'm not going to beg you to behave nicely once they come."

"I'll pull their hair out if I can't pull out mine. And don't ever lie again."

Powder's not teasing, it's an order for Silco. And he understands, being lied to is the worst feeling - next to what his heart wears now.

He wouldn't underestimate the child as if she couldn't. Or wouldn't.

"Alright, I'll remind them and myself to be on our best behavior."

Powder, limbs mangled and sickly face hardened, simply ploofs right back into the bed, coughing again. She nuzzles her head into Silco's pillows. It's only him observing how she's coating his bed with her sickness. He's not angry or frustrated, he accepts it like he accepts the noose.

"I'm sleeping here tonight."

Silco can't place the exact moment when his ward stopped asking for things and started to take them. He's just aware he's never put much effort into stopping her.

"Am I allowed to say no?"

"No."

He already knew that. Powder didn't ask to sleep in his bed when she crawled into it a few hours ago, he had to realize there was a tiny body tossing and turning in his bed at the sound of terrible coughs and snotty sniffles. Silco wasn't dreaming, so it wasn't as if she was a bother anyway, but since she's grow into his home and life, Powder has found the habit of sleeping at his side when she feels like it.

It crosses a boundary he didn't know was there, but with her nightmares, the bug-eyed little face that walks in against the Zaun's night light...Silco can't deny her.

"You already know how to wear an aura of impose, hm?"

"Of course I do. You should know that already, silly. Don't be silly."

Powder's voice goes high, still child-like in its scratchiness. Silco wears a genuine smile that, although small, is one he can't afford.

"I'll be whatever I want to be and you'll be just fine by tomorrow, or the next day."

If Janna wants peace in this world, Powder will be healthy very soon. Silco will come to hurt the things in front of him, against logic, against morals if it means he can release the pit of what he feels looking at his sick child. But he's not in the wrong.

That's only if she doesn't get better. And she will.

"Don't be silly, silly, silly-"

Powder hacks, Silco smile drops. The way she's spilling her words, there's nothing intentional about it. There isn't the intensity that grows with her in weight and height, it's just...sickness. Sickness growing with every droplet of sweat and clammy glance at him.

"Silly. I'm not silly either-"

"One of our people has been feeding our information to enforcers."

He would've known Sevika was coming down the hall a mile away if it were any other night. He only turns his head, hand resting on Powder's ankle.

"What?"

"Everything went as planned...except for the fact there were about two dozens of those fuckers swarming where the trade was supposed to take place. Your paying customer was trapped, it was hell trying to get to him and fuck, I think he was holding his breath the entire time."

Silco looks to the wall. He feels a tiny but harsh squeeze to his hand on his knee. Sevika stands straight, hand ready to point and fist in her incoming ramble.

"You said Piltover's goons would be one less thing to deal with in terms of trading and building all of this now that we have Marcus's dick choked. I believe it, but there is no possible way that what I had to deal with today was a result of the topside's peachy genius investigation techniques. They had to have gotten a tip, I don't think Marcus has the balls to go against you for the sake of his morals yet."

Silco doesn't make a movement, something natural in an attempt to not reveal what he's thinking.

But he squeezes the tiny, clammy hand over his.

"You sound right. So be right. You'll find out who it is and bring them to me, and you'll get your due for today."

There is a sudden boiling of rage at the idea someone is betraying him. Again, only this time, it'll be so much easier to bring whoever the rat is to justice. So, he won't put so much of his feeling, said rat doesn't deserve his anger. He won't rage in front of Powder.

"We need your...recognizable personality. Some locals took advantage of the situation and stole twenty cases of Shimmer."

"Are you-" Silco stifles his own words. Still, the ability to control his anger in situations like this for Powder hasn't come naturally just yet. "Twenty? The enforcers were the problem. The rat is the problem, but also the fact you can't stop addict gutter trash from thieving our supply?"

"Not gutter trash, Silco. A mid-level gang, you could almost call them an organization."

"Who are you calling gutter trash-"

"Powder, rest."

Sevika shrugs harshly, she might as well act like a child herself and roll her eyes.

"...I'm not calling them gutter trash, that's the whole damn point, kid-"

"She's sick, Sevika."

"Yeah, no shit. She's sicker than before. Her immune system has made her even more of a problem for you, who knew-"

Silco stands. His movement is a as quick as an impulse and his fist is as tight as the way Powder held him the day he found her.

"Sevika, do you forget yourself? When did it become so easy for you to allow yourself excuses. An organization? Oh my. What are we to do but...oh, b-but shiver and crawl into our favorite hiding spaces?" He rolls his shoulders. "Will you continue to lessen your failures by blowing up the egos of our competitors? Or will you do your job and burn them in flame and duty to get back what our networking customers have paid us?"

Sevika stares. Her silence means Silco's harsh, teething words were successful. Productive. As the way of a boss. Her hand drops.

"That's why I need you. You don't think bloodshed was my first thought? It's easy, it gets the job done, but yeah...they're an organization. We get the Shimmer back with blood on our hands and we have the issue of their surviving crew coming after us."

The woman, brown-skinned and harsh-eyed, takes a step or two closer. Silco does not miss the way her sights flicker behind him at Powder's coughing.

No, not coughing.

Rasping. Rattling.

Silco turns to Powder in the bed, sitting back down as quickly as he stood up. His palm engulfs the skin of her cheek.

"Powder, breathe. Cough and breathe. What is wrong?"

"...My throat," The little blue one blinks hard, as if her vision isn't quite there when she doesn't. "My lungs are being silly."

She giggles herself into more rasping. Silco's mouth parts, worry flared at the nose and in the way his usually slicked-back hair falls over. Of course, he doesn't have it gelled in bed. Powder likes to pull on it sometimes when she has sleepy questions concerning dreams or memories. Things that frustrate him in the night, things that are answered with "Why don't you go to bed and figure it out yourself?"

But Silco wants to strangle the feeling at the pit of his chest, the feeling -- the need to make sure she doesn't fall asleep. Why would he not want to her to rest when she's like this?

That's only if something this sickly would make sure she doesn't wake up again, and the thought eats away at me, as if she isn't just a girl I took in only a year ago, my life would go back to what it was before.

"Powder. How about you look at me, hm? What's wrong? Will you tell Silco what's wrong? Powder."

No. No, it wouldn't.

"...We don't have the image or the name right now. You know that, you know we can't just kill whoever we want and expect Zaun to fear to the point of submission. We need time for that. We need to play the waiting game. You go into their spot, make a deal of long-term trading for the twenty cases. They'll see that's a better investment than twenty cases now. We play the submissive for now, and then...we burn them. We burn them when your name grows with whatever empire you fantasize about."

Whatever Sevika's saying, suggesting - Silco knows she's right. It's why she's his number one in his mission, his dream for Zaun. But her plan isn't colored right in his head, it's washed out by the little one. He feels no guilt or frustration over it.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Fine. But not tonight."

He can feel Sevika's eyes widen and body shrug up in her own frustration.

"Not tonight? They could scab all the supply by tomorrow!"

"It doesn't matter how many cases we get back, does it?" It's venom on the man's tongue. He won't regret it later. "We'll be selling it back to them in your plan of long-term tradings and dealings. So yes. Not tonight. Sniff out the rat and go. Before I change my mind just to punish your failings of today."

Silco press the back of his palm to Powder's cheek and forehead. If she was a fire just ten minutes ago, there's a hell inside her now.

She whimpers. He shushes.

"When I tell you she's becoming a problem, half of the time, I don't mean that as an insult to her. And you know that."

Silco does, but he won't admit it to the one-armed woman who does mean it as an insult to Powder the other half of the time.

"If her fever's so high to the point where she can't understand what's being said around her, then we should've gotten a doctor hours ago. But you can let her rest. She's not going to die within the three hours you're gone-"

"Sevika. Do not assume what I'm thinking. It isn't smart. Nor needed."

"I can help."

Somehow - and suddenly, Powder's sitting up. She almost falls over, she would've if Silco didn't hold her by the shoulders. He squeezes them, head coming lower.

She can barely hold her own head up, let alone her whole body.

"We can all go. We don't have to wait for a millionnnn years, Sevika. That's stupid. And I do know what's being talked around me. I know because I can tell you that we can just make em' go.....boom."

He didn't think he'd have to deal with Powder's need to be needed tonight. The vomit, the rotting fear, and the coil of seeing her sick, something going wrong with the deal? Yes, he could handle and assume all those things would be things to deal with, but the little girl's so sick that Silco didn't possibly think she'd manage to bring up her extreme desire to be useful, to have anything to do if it means her guardian trusts her.

He doesn't know when he noticed Powder's need to be needed, but it's trickled into the business end of his life. Always the little girl asking for him to bring her bombs along just in case they're needed, and she's always hoping things get dire enough that they will be.

Maybe his feelings will change later on, but there's nothing much he feels comfortable with having her do. To pick her satisfaction over her safety is something Silco has done on more one occasion, but not tonight.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Powder, you have to rest for when the doctor comes. And what has happened tonight...one day,"

It feels natural, need to lower his head more and press his forehead against hers. Blue against black.

"One day, you'll set every fire that is needed. But not tonight. That doesn't mean your work is put to waste...but you need to rest."

"...No. I can go. I can bring the bombs I showed you, I can-"

"No. You can't. I think you're aware of that, child-"

Even though she's a sickly sixty-pounder, Silco finds it difficult to hold her down by the shoulders when she fights against him.

"No! I can help, I promise! Do you think I'm gonna-I'm gonna ruin everything?!"

"No, Powder. I don't doubt that you can be of use, but you're sick, and we're not going tonight anyhow."

His convincing feels genuine, it feels like a second talent, but Powder doesn't take. She squirms - Silco's nearly thankful Sevika doesn't take this moment to mutter or sigh, his frustration boils with every weak fist his child throws at him.

"You're lying! You think I'm gonna ruin everything!"

"I never said that, who's the liar now? Is it still me? You-"

He exhales low when trying to put her down into the bed. "You need rest. You know everything hurts, you know you can barely get out of my bed. You're not stupid, Powder, so stop pretending you are."

"You're only not going tonight because of me! I'm already ruining it! I don't want to! I promise I don't! I can stop being sick-"

She's right about why Silco has no thought of leaving tonight. Sevika might agree with the child for the first time since she's taken home here.

"Powder. Enough."

Her head jolts suddenly, off to side...as if something on the bed has interrupted her breaking tantrum. It happens sometimes, she'll be talking to him, it's a conversation that's not turning to be an enjoyable one, and then...she'll be looking past him, or behind herself - like someone's shouting her name, as if she can see ghosts.

Who doesn't? But if Silco were to turn back to see whatever Powder's looking at, he always thinks he'll see a monster of hell himself. That's how real Powder's tension comes to when she's like this.

"Shut up! Shut up! I know I am! I'm trying not to! That's why I want to go! Aren't you listening to me?!"

She breaks free from Silco's grasp, pushing her body back into the headboard. It sounds harsh. All so harsh and pained for a girl who shouldn't even be sitting upright.

What she's never done when she's like this is talk. Silco doesn't think she's screaming at him.

"Go away! Get away from us!"

This girl is so much more than he could imagine. It's the worst thing. The best thing. He'll see. It doesn't matter anyhow.

But here, it's the worst. It's Powder terrified and rageful at whatever's colored the room, whatever she can only see. He can admit it. He doesn't have the faintest idea of what to do. But he needs to see her stop screaming, stop acting like she's in pain.

His heart can't handle it.

"You know what? I'll call a doctor."

Sevika's off in quick, heavy footsteps. Silco runs his hand through his hair, standing up and over Powder.

"Powder. That's enough. Whatever you're hearing, ignore it. You need rest, it's no use..." He couldn't know now. He'll have to learn, and still, he won't regret this. This girl, even if her insecurities kill him with a heartbreak he would have never had in his lifetime. "Arguing with them. It's pointless."

"Just take me with you! Please." Powder puts her hand over hear ears. "Or at least my bombs? Please!"

"No. I told you. I'm not going. That is final. And do not make this about you and your false ideas of destruction. I choose to stay. You are my responsibility. That is not a fault. It is a fact. I get to decide what I prioritize. Not Sevika. Not you. Do you understand?"

Tears fall from her grey bug eyes. It's only his frustration that allows Silco to not turn into a pond at the sight. He stands tall.

The order gets the girl to look at him, it feels like a stand-off. Not just between him and her.

And she's lost when she flinches, eyes squeezing shut with all the frustration her little body can hold.

"SHUT UP! THEY'RE SAYING YOU'RE LYING! THAT YOU'RE A LIA-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Silco, in the piercing silence, doesn't realize how close he's gotten to Powder's face in his shout. Their noses nearly touch.

Her eyes are open, only to flinch again when she stare back into his. It's not the air she's yelled into. It's him, it's all him.

He's sure of it when Powder attempts to look him in the eyes - the eye again, only to whimper and turn away, like something horrible will happen if she's to stare at it for too long.

It's a fatal whimper, a fatal avoidance of him and the eye, the monstrosity he's come to embrace at his iris, at his soul...it's fatal. It kills whatever strength he had to distance himself from her.

It's fatal to his strength in general. He's hurt. Janna forbid, Janna who hates his soul so, he's hurt at her fear.

"Powder. Look at me."

There was a point after Vander's betrayal, after his recovery that Silco couldn't dare to look at a mirror. He despised what his brother in arms turned his face into, but no...in a way, he can thank the false friend for what he did. The breaking and poisoning of his eye only revealed what Silco was underneath.

A body to be imposing. Feared. Respected. All for the man who wanted to see Zaun freed from Piltover. But for the first time since, Silco can't handle the thought of being seen a monster.

Not with his little one.

It's grating, the growing panic at the way she won't look at him.

"Will you look at the man who wants to give you everything?"

It's the first time he's admitted it by word and not just by thought. He gets down on one knee, inhaling sharp when Powder flinches under his hand touching her shoulder.

She lies flat on the bed, turning over. They sit in the heavy silence for a bit. Silco, smooth in word as he is, can't do much but curse his panic and hurt.

"I want to give you everything. Will you let me, Powder? Will you let the old man give you everything you want?"

She wants to be needed. Trusted. He'll find a way, not knowing that he's never had the same desire - except with her.

"...A doc's coming. One of the...medicinal kind, if you understand what I'm saying."

Silco closes his eyes when he hears the rasping grow from Powder again.

"Did you hear Sevika? Someone's coming to make sure you feel better. You'll feel better, and you'll stop scaring me so, hm? We'll stop scaring each other."

He sighs when the only response is more rasping, his forehead falls against her back. Her shirt is cold with sweat.

The three of them fail to move until Silco half-heartedly decides it's time to fall away from the girl after a waiting minute or so, give her some time alone before the doctor comes. But it's possible she won't be alone, he doesn't know how to fix that. Except to be the real thing in the room with her.

"Those types of healers, they're vials are expensive."

Silco stands and turns to Sevika, already at the doorway with his arms very, very slightly bend at his sides. "That concerns me how?"

"Kids get sick. It's not the end of the world, she might be better by tomorrow if you knock her out right now."

Silco will not accept the word might when it comes to Powder. Never.

"You can go, if you want."

He puts his hands behind his back. Sevika's brow furrows.

"What?"

"You don't need me, only my word. If you want to be fun with it, play it as if you're going behind my back. I'm sure growing drug empires that happen to be made of gutter trash don't appreciate loyalty as much as I do."

Silco leaves her there, no care the woman's in his personal chambers. He needs to be sure the girl will never come to fear him again, because what happened tonight can never happen again.

There's not enough people in his path to bury the rage in if it does.

For now, it's a wall when he turns the corner. He can't know Sevika keeps herself watching Powder's rattling body curled on his bed.

She sighs, walking over. She could know how the tiny, blue-haired soul of sickness and pale-born tragedy blinks in confusion. She knows the weight creaking on the bed isn't Silco's.

"I know what it's like to be a daughter, kid. Most women do. Sometimes...sometimes daughters are problems. You can't beat it. And it doesn't mean anything to the people who love you most of the time. You'll see." Sevika leans forward, elbows on her knees. "What I'll have to deal with that man in the years to come if he doesn't make the right decision of booting you out of our lives is what you'll see so clearly. You'll be so fucking happy. Peached. Watch."

Sevika looks down. Because fathers never make the right decision. They never care about the problem that is a child that latches onto you and pulls down into the water until your lungs drown. They don't even think to regret it when it becomes their end.

It'd be beautiful if it wasn't so stupid.

"I hope when you get better, you make it so you're less of a problem for me. Hopefully, all this sickness is making you feel for a more grateful approach to what you have."

Sevika gets up, bed creaking under her again.

"You better not tell Silco I sat on his bed."

She leaves in silence, both in lack of word and thought. Powder curls.

"I will."

✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・✫ ✭・.・

Silco sits in his chair, holding up the compact. He can't remember the last time he cared to use this. He stares into the orange flame of his eye, blinking at the mirror.

There's no embarrassment when powdering on the foundation. He simply covers the rot of his eyelid and cheek. If this is what it takes for Powder to not be afraid of him, then so be it. It doesn't even matter if it was only because the situation was a cocktail of anger and already well-born fear. He won't take the chance.

Silco can't waste his time remembering when he'd be so strong to have never cared in the first place. He can't trust little Powder to stay strong at the sight of his scar, but he can let her know he is to be trusted. Always.

He patters it along the skin until it almost looks like...the face of an approachable man. Huh.

"Ta-da."

There's no tone but a lack there of in his voice. He stands up, taking his injector out of his pocket and into the hall.

The doctor, the healer said Powder was infected with a quick-acting virus, nothing too dangerous as long as the needed medicine is regularly given over the course of a few days. Silco didn't take it with smiles and praise. No, not when the little one was out of it for the entire check-up. He trusted the doctor to be right, but it didn't change the fact that seeing her so ill meant a loss of logic on his head and heart.

Silco, on his way to his room, stops at the doorway of Powder's. It's a moment that sits with him.

He opens the door, looking at the colored, messy space that is hers. It's decorated with drawings (the walls and papers all over the floor). There's no chance Vander ever thought to teach her to make a bed. Silco's not sure he could get her to learn now.

But the bombs strewn about the floor are what truly belongs to the girl's mind. With every passing day and chance he takes on her, Silco can see the fire of her brain, what destruction she's able to take on with every creation.

"You, you, you, little girl."

It's a prize. Her mind is prize. There is even no even when it comes to Powder and her mind, there is not fault he can accept with a "despite". No, it's just her that he'll watch grow into something bigger than what he could know now.

He picks up one of her bombs, studies it in the light of Zaun. The room's getting cramped, he'll have to find her a space for her toys.

The one he's picked up is pink, butterflies and monkeys doodled all over what could kill an entire building of people with a pull of its string. What's under his shoe is a drawing.

Of him. Or he thinks. It's obvious her true talent lies in her explosives. But it's a man suited in red and black, one eye bright with orange and hair pushed back.

Silco does not smile, he just picks the drawing up. He folds it into his pocket. He leaves Powder's room, her bomb in one hand and the injector in the other.

"Janna! Silco, sorry."

Sevika's always in a hurry, she's nearly slammed into him on his way out into the hall.

"Gonna get rid of the kid with her own stuff? I never mentioned to be that cruel-"

"I tell you. Do not forget yourself." The woman stills, licking her lips. It's defeat on her face. "You are going?"

"Yeah. I'm going. And I thought about your jab. It works. If I pretend this is me going behind your back, they might feel inclined to not pull this shit again when their dealings gotta be dealt under your nose."

Silco smirks, although half of his face can't give into his knowing amusement. "That is a benefit. Yes. But there's been a change of plans." He hands Sevika the bomb. "You'll play for a moment or two, let them think they're on top. Everyone deserves something like that before they're blown into mist."

Sevika's head jolts in a tilt.

"Wait. No. That's not what we agreed. That goes against everything about what we planned-"

"What you came up with. And it was the best idea of the hour. But I thought on it...you want the name, Sevika? You'd like our image seared into the minds of our enemies, present and eventual?"

Silco closes her palm over Powder's creation.

"You give them a show."

The woman can't bear to look at him. Silco can't bear to care. "We don't need to play waiting games when we have ticking time bombs. Any Zaunite organization with half a brain won't think to do us misjustice after it's shown we’ll blow any wrongdoers to pieces. And if they do end up at the door with all those misjustices...see the previous statement."

Silco's off to his room, there's no argument to be lost on him there. His hand tightens over his injector when he reaches the door.

He does understand wanted to be needed to certain extents. Zaun did not ask for him specifically in their quest for freedom, he put himself in the role of a revolutionary because he had to.

His understanding, his need to see Powder happy is why he turns the injection device over in his hand as he pushes the door open.

He creeps into his own bed, careful not to wake the girl with a bounce and tumble out of it. He leans up against the headboard, hands on his lap with his legs straightened out in his sitting up.

He looks to the sleeping child beside him.

"Powder. I have something for you to do for me."

Silco's aware he's stated that she should be asleep. But assuming a restless little girl is awake instead of off in a dream is the smart thing.

"M' not Powder."

"No? Who are you then?"

Powder, or apparently not-Powder, rolls her head. Maybe she's sleeptalking through her dreams, actually.

"M' a...Jinx. M' Jinx. No Powder."

Silco's head leans back, eyes still on her. "Ah, I see. Or...we'll see about that. Jinx or Powder, I have something for you." He watches her turns over, eyes close, palms rested into a gentle fist.

"Sevika sat on your bed."

Most definitely sleeptalking a dream. He taps her nose. Her eyes blink open. For the sake of his heart, he'll ignore the drying tears.

"Would you like to help me with my eye?"

Powder blinks again, this time in confusion. "Your eye? It looks..."

The man lets head tilt down at her. "It looks what?"

Cleaner.

Powder sits up. "Nothing. I don' know. What about your eye?"

"You've seen me with this before, yes?" Silco gestures to his injector. She nods. "This is what I use to put medicine into my eye. I need it to lessen the pain. I can do it, but lately I've been struggling. These types of device require steady hands, accurate hands. Would you like to do it for me? For tonight?"

He nearly regrets this whole ordeal when Powder jumps up as if her lungs weren't rattling away a hour ago.

"Powder! Calm yourself, this is not what you do to get you better. Do you remember what the doctor said-"

Powder snatches the injector from Silco, studying it over above her head. "Duh! I can help-" She begins to hack.

Maybe this should've been saved for the morning, just like how he won't tell her about the use of her bomb until then. When she can fully take in the praise and pride of the moment.

"Powder. Breathe. This can wait til tomorro-"

"NO!"

Powder sniffles after her short but powered cry, like even she understand that was an intensity she shouldn't have allowed herself.

"I can do it now and then we can go to bed."

We. Silco's lips thin like he'll smile.

"Alright. Come closer, follow my instructions."

She does, her knees press into his thigh. When he's guiding her tiny, still clammy hand over his eye socket, Silco realizes it isn't the brightest idea to give a small child a needle to inject into his literal eyeball.

But it'll be her satisfaction over his safety now, he supposes.

"You place it right here, just let it rest for a bit. And then you'll push this." The man puts Powder's other hand over the end of the injector. "It works as a syringe, if you've ever seen one."

"I used to find them on the street all the time! Vander almost knocked out when I stepped on one and started to feel funky. Turned out it was just something called a coincidence. It was just dinner from the night before."

Huh. Her mentions of Vander have lessened, but not died not. Silco doesn't know how to feel about that.

"You have a habit of making your guardians take care of your terrible illnessness?"

But he will not deny her the mention at this time.

Powder shrugs.

"I guess. Now. Do I push in?"

Silco prepares himself, breathing in. "When you're ready-"

And maybe the girl's never not ready, because she just needled his eye with no hesitation, but it was precise. Silco grips the sheets as the shimmer bleeds into him. He won't scare Powder in his rage or in his pain. He does not grunt or groan.

After the pain subsides, Silco looks to Powder staring up at him. Waiting. Nervous. Sitting on her calves.

"...Did I do good?"

"You did very well. You're a natural."

He goes to grab his injector from the girl, but she pulls it to her chest. She ploofs on the bed, eyes already closing.

"Goodnight, Silco."

Silco blinks. He didn't think to make it a patterned thing for her, just tonight - to make her feel better after his slew of mistakes and whatever her head put her through.

"I'll need that back at some point."

"No."

Powder doesn't even shift. Silco sighs.

If Sevika wants to go on about problems with Powder, this is the only one, cause he will need it back at some point and the idea to deny her this isn't a strong one.

"There will be days where you won't be able to do it. Nothing wrong with that, but I don't expect you to do it everyday."

"I don't think so. Goodnight."

Her hand tighten around the injector. As tiny as they are, Silco doesn't think he'd be able to take them from her if he tried.

He sighs, putting the deep-red blanket over her.

He kisses the blue of her hair.

"Goodnight, Powder."

Silco goes to lie beside her, a sleep falling on him so quickly and he won't know that's the exhaust of being a father.

He won't know the closed-eyed smile his little one gives besides him, as smirked as his few can be.

[inkabelledesigns]

It's incredibly frustrating and exhausting to have to question every piece of media that passes your screen as to whether or not it was made with generative ai. I don't like that I can't trust people not to use the literal theft machine for their projects. Especially when it comes to indies.

Like, so there's a new indie horror game called Zoochosis, right? I have no stakes in Zoochosis, a game about a zookeeper that's trying to stop the spread of a mutation with the animals isn't really my speed. But I'd heard of the people who made it before, and I wanted to see if they'd grown. The devs behind it are also responsible for another game, Sparky Marky, which used ai voices, much to my frustration. I tuned into a stream today where someone was playing it, and after hearing a little bit of the dialogue from Doc, I asked if they'd hired actual voice actors. The streamer seemed unconvinced that they had. So I immediately turned it off and decided to go hunting instead, because I needed to know if real people voiced in Zoochosis. I needed to know if this dev team learned anything from their last experience.

Thankfully, there are credits for the voice actors of this game, but they're very far down, which is a little disappointing. The common threads between them is that most of them have a Fiverr page, so I imagine they were hired through there, but I can't confirm that. Frankly I don't love Fiverr given they are also run rampant with generative ai right now, it's not inspiring confidence. But a number of these voice actors have full on websites for their voice work that seem pretty legit to me. In the case of Doc's voice, Tim Stephenson, most of his work is in commercial voice over, not character voice acting, so that explains some of what I was hearing. Commercial VO and character acting for games, shows, etc. are different skills with different needs. Just because someone can do one very well doesn't necessarily mean they're perfectly equipped to do both, especially when I didn't see credits for a voice director here. Without a director, you're recording remotely and going off of your instincts, and while many actors can have great instinct for performing, getting a performance that fits the vision of the project still requires some communication.

I think it's too soon to tell if these actors were actually paid for voice acting, of if these are ai voices synthesized from their likeness. The game is so new that it hasn't shown up on their imdb credits or personal website credits yet, and until it does, I'm gonna be a little skeptical. At the same time, there are many explanations for why the voice acting sounded off. The dev team behind Zoochosis has a lot of names that lead me to believe they may not be native English speakers (and I'm fairly certain I've heard that from others too). Writing and editing dialogue for a game in a language you don't speak is NOT EASY! That's a big ask, and if that's what's happening here, then I'd actually be very impressed by the quality of what I'd heard. It's just...frustrating. I expect this from big corporations and companies, but Zoochosis is an indie game. The folks over at Clapperheads are a small team making this thing real. And I'm troubled by the idea of an indie team, something built on passion and a desire for creative freedom, using generative ai. They're not the only ones to do so. Pastra, a YouTuber who loves indie horror, has started a series of videos that play into this found footage/news broadcast horror story, and for part of it, they used ai generated images of photographs of children to represent the victims of the monster. And they defended this by saying that it was better to use these generated images of children than actual real children. And I'm just sitting here confused by that. Because like, the model that that generative ai is trained on is using stolen images of real children to make those fake photos. So not only does it fall under using a child's image without consent, but you don't even know what children you've stolen the visage from. That is not a good look. The same goes for Indigo Park. AI was used for the opening footage of Issac Indigo introducing the park, and that's part of why his facial movements are so janky. Mason from UniqueGeese at least apologized and said he'd do better next time, but like...the chapter 1 revamp came out and that wasn't changed.

It's small stuff and big stuff, but either way, it's not okay. Until generative ai is trained only on data that is given to its developers consensually, it is not a viable tool for creation. It's not ready to be tested until the ethics part is worked out, and even then, I don't think I'd ever want to touch it. Like I get it, game development is hard, and in the indie scene, it's hard to make it all come together. But also, I expect a project built on passion to at least TRY to be creative in its solutions, and for the people making it to know better than to use stolen content. I expect better. Maybe I'm wrong for expecting better. But I expect better.

I'm just...disappointed. It makes me feel like I can't touch anything in modern media. Like I may as well go back and only play games, watch shows/movies, and explore stories made before 2023. At least then I can trust that it was probably done without the use of the theft machine. That's such a hopeless thing, giving up on modern art and all the potential it comes with. I don't want to give up on art. I don't want to give up on people telling meaningful stories in modern times. Please, humans, keep making art with your own two hands. Please give me something to be hopeful for.

[green-crow]

Absolutely self indulgent post but

HTTYD characters and what TMA entities I'd assign them

(just as a disclaimer, I'm assigning them one that fits their personality, and another one that fits their fears, sort of what they'd thrive in and get pulled into to become an avatar VS what would kill/feed off of them)

Hiccup:

Personality-wise, the vast is just too good of a fit for him. Part of why Hiccup loves flying is his friendship with Toothless no doubt, but he also adores the vastness of the sky, the fact that there are literally no limits for him. He could go and on and on, and he probably would have were it not for his responsibilities in Berk and his friends later on. This boy would be seen having fun as an avatar of the vast like Fairchild, he'd have such a blast. Bonus points if he has some sort of special bond with Toothless, like Breekon and Hope. Without the one, the other crumbles. They are truly one and the same. I feel like for him to become an avatar, he'd have left Berk in the first movie when he tried to. Fly away instead of facing Hookfang in the arena, have an encounter with the vast, turn into an avatar and never look back. Now, when it comes to his own fear, I'd probably go with the buried. This boy has been on the verge of drowning a few too many times, one of them being in a relatively small space while closed off to everyone else, so he'd absolutely crumble if he got an experience similar to the cave sisters or getting thrown into the coffin. Not to mention the metaphorical spin of this fear that also applies to Hiccup's struggle with being chief. Gone would be his infinite freedom, the endless possibilities of flying off with no worries at all, just him and his best friend. Instead he'd be crushed with responsibilities, buried in the life of a chief far too deep to ever escape. I do like this fear for Hiccup too because it's the opposite of his assigned one, so it gives it even more power.

Astrid:

Slaughter. 100%. I considered the hunt as well, but I feel like this fits better. She's a warrior, a soldier, she's a troop ready to kill and take on any and every enemy in her way to get what she wants. She doesn't have a clear victim, she doesn't hunt others, rather she just has this deep, unpredictable sense of violence rooted inside her that the slaughter would love to get their hands on. I have no doubt she'd become an avatar extremely soon, being marked since little and starting off with dragons before moving on to actual people. Disclaimer because I don't want people thinking I'm an Astrid hater, I'm not saying she's always angry and will kill someone over the tiniest thing unless you are Snotlout, but rather that her anger issues would be perfect for the slaughter to get a hold of her. She kind of reminds me of Melanie in some ways, and if I trust anyone to do what Melanie did, it would be Astrid. As for what she fears... I don't think we see much of Astrid's fears, except for her fear of losing Hiccup or those she cares for. So, the girl is getting into the desolation. I can't help but remember the episode in which she almost lost her parents, and for some reason, I always pictured the house going down in flames. This would fit perfectly with the desolation, her loved ones taken away by a sudden flame, destroying lives for a senseless reason such as war and vengeance. I've also considered the corruption, given she almost died of a rare illness that one time, but I'm not too sure about it. She wasn't really scared as she suffered, more like confused and weak, but not scared of the end that was drawing in or the fact that she was ill. She also isn't the biggest fan of the spiral given her annoyance towards the twins, but I think that's more just her trying to keep things organised and running and getting frustrated when they aren't, not an actual fear.

Snotlout:

This one, for the personality one at least, is a tough one tbh. I'm not sure what would feel right for him, maybe because I've yet to study him closer, but for starters, I'd go with desolation personality-wise. Yes, maybe I chose it because he literally has a dragon that sets himself on fire at will, yes, maybe because he discovered a gel that makes everything flammable and canonically uses it for his own amusement. But what if there's more to it? Snotlout obviously has this deep-rooted fear of not being enough, so he always one-ups everyone. He tries to be the strongest, the bravest, the one who saves the day and gets the chick. But with flames on his side, he has a new way of feeling superior. With just the smallest of efforts, he can set aflame anything he wishes. He can burn things, animals, people. He can control fire, and thus, he is superior to others for it. I think in a twisted TMA version of him, Snotlout would love to end others before they can surpass him or just use fire to hurt and diminish others to appear better and stronger. As for what he fears, oh boy, this guy is going straight into the lonely. "The fear of isolation, of being completely cut off and alone or disconnected from the rest of society." Now go to the episode in rtte where he has a nightmare about everyone turning their backs on him and casting him away from their lives. Obviously, for him, it's not so much isolation in itself that scares him but the mix of loneliness and others finding him pathetic and weak, a fear courtesy of his daddy. I do feel like Snotlout is a very social person who needs others around to function, as his whole character arc is a journey of him trying to fit in by following the rules his family, mostly Spitelout, set for him, and the chance of never finding his spot for one reason or another terrifies him. The lonely would have a blast torturing him by making him feel invisible and go unnoticed.

Fishlegs:

I feel like Fishlegs would get pulled into the eye. His curiosity and wish to learn more are some of his main personality traits, so no wonder the incarnation of curiosity would pull him in. I feel like his descent into it would be similar to John's: slowly, without him noticing at all, but being tempted to go deeper and deeper, getting small treats and glances at what he could reach to know. Not to mention how paranoid he gets when he has no sleep as shown in that one rtte episode, which is very similar to season two John. Only when it is too late, he'd noticed he had trapped himself into the position of an avatar, hurting others and acting as the monster he'd be then. I'm not sure he'd go all the way, though - John was alone, paranoid, hurt, it was easy to tempt him further. Fishlegs, however, is far too kind and has Meatlug and his friends for support. He wouldn't reach the avatar level, but I think he'd be a follower at the very least. The issue about trying to pinpoint the fear that would end a character as fearful as Fishlegs is I don't know which one would affect him the most. The lonely would certainly fit, he is a very loving person and would be devastated if he didn't have, say, Meatlug or Hiccup around, and we see him plenty of time searching for validation from his peers, in a way no doubt to fit in with others. But I think he'd be fine being alone, and rather he fears the loss of those connections in itself. Thus, he has a high chance of getting attacked by the desolation. He would do anything for his loved ones, sacrificing himself and overcoming his fears just to save them, partly fuelled by love and, in this case, also fuelled by the fear of losing them. Another interesting fear for him would be the extinction. I have no doubt that in modern times Fishlegs would be into climate change discussions, researching ways to stop the effects of pollution and maybe the effects it has on different species, be it plants or animals. I wouldn't be surprised if he was scared about the end of it all, not death itself, but rather the extinction of different species as the world sinks further and further into desperation. I've also considered the end or the hunt, but, I feel like at least in the show he can get through those, therefore while he fears death or being hunted by others, those wouldn't be his main fears.

Tuffnut & Ruffnut:

Spiral. What, you thought I wouldn't assign the fear of madness to the chaotic Loki worshippers? I considered the desolation for a few seconds given their love of blowing stuff up, but come on. They are the spiral avatar. Michael and Helen should be taking notes from them. You see a yellow door, or in their case probably zippleback gas, and you run. I trust these two to actually perform The Great Twisting and do so flawlessly. The distortion would thrive with these two, no doubt, and the world would be severely fucked. As for what they fear, I'm going to treat them separately in a second, but they do have things in common. They don't have any clear strong fears, except the whole "tears" incident with Tuffnut, which might not even be fear and just something else entirely, and the few times they do seem scared, it's stuff they get over with pretty soon. They obviously don't fear the desolation (while they were sad about the change of getting separated, Ruffnut acted accordingly to Tuffnut's "death", I feel like it was just regular grief, not really an over-the-top reaction (for what the twins are used to) to the loss itself (plus I already assigned it to many people and didn't want to repeat myself)), the corruption (these are the guys who eat mouldy bread and their own toenails just fine), the slaughter (violence is more of a game to them rather than a fear, even when directed towards them), or the spiral. (disclaimer of mild gore incoming; skip ahead to the next character's section if you want to skip it)

For Tuffnut, I'm going with the flesh and the hunt. The main reason I'm assigning two right off the vat is that while both are good fits, the flesh is not really a thing until the Industrial Revolution, so I feel like just like Fishlegs with the extinction, it wouldn't be possible for him to be haunted by it without being part of a modern times AU. Regardless, here's my thought process for both: When I started assigning these to characters I really wanted to give the flesh to someone, and I feel like Tuff is the best candidate. After bonding with Chicken, he is way more perceptive of what he and others eat, especially around his feather friend, and I wonder if that could also be thanks to some kind of fear being transferred from Chicken to Tuffnut. Tuff is highly empathetic, always caring for Chicken's opinions, thoughts, and reactions, so it wouldn't be such a stretch to say he'd somehow understand Chicken's fears to a deeper level than most. In modern times, with how the meat industry works and how exposed Chicken would be to the mutilation and breeding of her kin just for meat, I have no doubt both the bird and Tuff would realize they are just animated meat and bones, a bunch of food ready to be torn apart, disfigured, and cooked. I can see him having wacky nightmares about being reincarnated into a bird himself and then torn apart, feeling every single bite and pull of a human or a creature devouring him. For the Viking era, though, the hunt is my go-to. Following the same line of thought, Tuff would be very empathetic to Chicken's fear of being hunted down as prey to the point of sharing it. We also have some instances where Tuff himself is the one hunted down, like the wolf biting him or the episode where he meets Chicken and is surprised by the night terrors. I feel like, eventually, that'd get to him to the point of being genuinely scared of beasts lurking nearby waiting to hunt him or Chicken down. And as a special mention, I'm also including the dark. It's only because I remembered Ruff mentioning Tuff being scared of the dark when they were kids, so, for the one time I get an actual fear spelt out for me, I'm not throwing that away.

Now, as for Ruffnut, I was completely lost so I went to the wiki for help, and wouldn't you know if I found this: "In the DreamWorks Dragons: The Series, despite having tamed Barf (and technically Belch), she seemed to have a slight fear of wild dragons that could potentially kill her and would often panic in situations in which she encounters a wild dragon. It's also shown that she might be afraid of dying, even to the point of naming the Scauldron "Please-Don't-Kill-Me".". Well, that makes things easier. Ruffnut would be haunted by the end. I guess the hunt would also be an option, given she is scared of wild dragons presumably hunting her down, and it would be cute if she shared a fear with her brother, but ultimately, I think she has either overcome the fear or never had it to begin with. In Rtte, she seems fine being chased down by hunters or infiltrating Viggo's base even with the knowledge that she'd be most likely hunted down and trapped when found. So, ultimately, the end is the one and only fear that would haunt her to the end of times. Sorry I don't have a more in-depth analysis for her; I genuinely couldn't think of anything Ruff would be scared of. If anything, the fears should fear her.

Dagur:

Well, if we take a look at his nickname... Yeah, Dagur the Deranged screams either the slaughter, the hunt, or the spiral. And from those three, I'm leaning more towards the first two. This boy was out for blood since the beginning. But unlike Heather, I feel like he does more violent acts in a fit of madness rather than holding premeditated long hunts. He enjoys the thrill of the battle, but not so much the actual process of getting closer to his prey before ending them. The slaughter manifests as people driven "mad with Slaughter," and Dagur sure does fit the description. He did not care what he grabbed, he just wanted a target to torture and kill. Dagur spends his whole life going from victim to victim in a mindless rage rather than an animalistic or premeditated kind of way. It's violence for violence's sake, and he excels at it. If anything, I feel like most of the people he goes after are mere excuses to perform violent acts, even if, later on, they might actually become real enemies and give him reasons to hunt them down. He would be a follower of the slaughter from an early age, considering his track record, and would rise as an avatar quickly. As for his fear, the desolation makes an appearance once again. I feel like while in his villain era, he did not care about anything or anyone. The slaughter was all he could focus on, all he cared about. The thrill of battle, downing his enemies, why think about anything else when you have those? But after that, after almost dying and straying away from that mindless violence, he started to care. Shattermaster, Heather, his father, Mala, Sleuther, his village... He has people to protect and look after. And knowing firsthand just how ruthless people can be, I feel like the fear of losing everything he worked so hard to get would slowly creep onto him. After falling out of the position of avatar of the slaughter other fears would see him as weak and vulnerable, and I have no doubt the desolation would take him as prey. Funnily enough, one could argue he'd also fear the slaughter or a mix between the two. And it would be pretty petty but also in character of a fear to consume what was once theirs.

Heather:

Given her whole arc of finding and killing her brother... Yeah, Heather gets the hunt. She isn't mindlessly violent like Astrid (not saying Astrid is violent 24/7, rather her anger issues make her most likely to react violently), but rather, she chooses her targets and hunts them down. Dagur, Viggo, whoever it is Heather does not stop once she has marked her enemy. I'd love to see a monstrous version of her similar to Daisy's, but instead of turning into a wolf, Heather would become an enraged razorwhip. ...And now I'm thinking about Heather and Astrid as Daisy and Basira, great. That's a thought for another day. Regardless, Heather the unhinged would definitely get pulled into the hunt at an early age, being vindictive and resentful, and growing up into a fine warrior. She has a thirst for blood, no doubt, and the ability to end with someone else with relative ease. The hunt would be very pleased with her. I've also considered the lonely since she seemed very happy minding her own business before joining the riders or Dagur, but the hunt is just such a perfect fit for her. Now, for her fear, this girl has a long track record of being haunted by the desolation. Losing his parents (both biological and adoptive), part of his village... She can't catch a break. She most likely was marked by the fear right after Dagur set her adrift, and with that, she became that much more vulnerable to it. I can see a world where she becomes so haunted by this she eventually turns into an avatar or the desolation rather than just a victim, sort of like Helen with the spiral, but there would at least be a bit of a back-and-forth between the hunt and the desolation to fight for this girl.

Viggo:

This man wouldn't get pulled into the web, the web would be pulled towards this man. The scheming, the strategies, the toying with your victim and letting them think they indeed have free will only to control them from the shadows... Oh yes, if he was a powerful enemy back then as just a human, imagine with the power of being an avatar. I do wonder at what point he'd turn into an avatar, but I feel like pre-rtte events would make sense. His whole empire would be just a way for him to spread his web of lies and deception, to trap more people into his real-life game of maces and talons, and Hiccup would definitely be at the top of his list. Who knows, maybe it could even be a family thing like the Lukas family with the lonely? I don't think Ryker would be an avatar of the web though, so maybe only partially. As for his fears... Well, we don't see much of that, but I'd discard the hunt, the desolation, and the end. He lost everything, he sacrificed himself without a second thought, and he was hunted down multiple times, all without showing much fear (he was scared when he fell into the volcano but that doesn't seem to me like a strong contender for fear of death or fire, rather just a regular reaction to falling into an active volcano, as one does). If anything, maybe he'd be a victim of the spiral? Hear me out now, Viggo is an extremely intelligent character. His mind is his key weapon, the one and only thing he can always trust. Not his men, not his brother, not his strength, not his gold. His mind. The idea of losing it, of his sanity thinning little by little, growing paranoid of everyone around him... If he fears something, I don't doubt it'd be madness. Oh just how delicious it'd be for the spiral to toy with this man! Michael would certainly have a field trip playing with Viggo.

[anameistoohard]

Oh boy, lets open that can of worms

There's a LOT of discourse with endo vs anti-endo stuff (endogenic system=plural system not formed by trauma if you don't know 🙂). Like, death threats coming from both sides kinda thing. We try to stay out of it. But it's easy to accidentally stumble into it if you're not familiar with some of the nuance. So we want to share some observations as like, a crash course. (And apparently we had a lot to say lol.)

This post isn't really to debate how plurality forms. Just to give some context as to why so much hate is flying between these two groups.

Basically, you have 2 extremes. (And everyone in between obviously)

On one side you have people making up extra rules on top of the diagnostic criteria to exclude and gatekeep anyone who doesn't meet "their level" of disordered. (I've literally heard people say "you can't be a system, you're not as traumatized as me"). A lot of accusations of faking come from this bunch. Too much internal communication? Faker. Too many non-human alters? Faker. Too many or not enough alters? Faker. You can't win with them even if you have a diagnosis.

We've noticed a lot of parallels between this group and transmeds. You need to have x level of dysphoria to ride this ride. You can't be trans if you don't want xyz treatment. You need to reach my arbitrary bar of "trans enough". Enbys and everyone else are fakers. That kind of bs.

But on this side you also have a lot of people who just want to be taken seriously. They want to be validated by their diagnosis and feel hurt when people say or do things that they think will compromise that validity. They, at least initially, come from a place of sincerity not malice. But they fall into the trap of trying to be "one of the good ones".

On the other extreme you have the wild west. Things people treat as fact aren't codified with the same scrutiny as the DSM-5 or ICD-11. This breeds its own confusion and misinformation. We've seen people conflate plurality with things like maladaptive day dreaming, lucid dreaming, adhd, and (applying it to other people with ferocity to the point of harassment) metaphors of all things.

They have a spaghetti at the wall approach that reminds me of a less extreme MOGII (an attempt to define just about every possible form of gender and sexuality). It's a messy patchwork of ideas. We've seen 8 different labels that all mean the same thing and are being used by exactly no one. Redundancy and hyperspcificity, that's the name of the game. But frankly we like this if for no other reason than we want to see what sticks, what becomes mainstream.

We've seen people from this group attack people as badly as the anti-endo group. Openly mocking people for having trauma or saying vile shit like "traumagenics kys". They feel threatened by the exclusionary nature of diagnoses. But instead of taking their frustration out on the systems of power they take them out on normal people. After all if you're diagnosed, you "represent the system"... I guess. Equally bull shit.

But this is also where the edge cases go, the exclusions, those that don't fit into a neat little box. The DSM excludes people whose plurality is accepted as part of their culture or religion. These people don't suddenly stop being systems just because they're accepted, but they're distinctly not disordered. They don't meet the clinical definition of DID or OSDD. Same goes for someone whose symptoms are mild enough to not cause "clinically significant distress". You also have people who don't want to be pathologized or have been failed by the medical system.

So lastly, a warning: When dealing with plural stuff, it's very easy to go stumbling into a mine field.

Tldr: I would always rather land on the side of letting too many people in than exclude people who needed the support. However, no matter your in-group, some people take things too far. Like, ffs don't attack people. 

-Taylor & Mark

[manytoonepoet13]

What is a rose truly for?

~~~🌹🥀~~~

This music video has left me quite... confused? Perhaps a bit frustrated? Because I can tell there is something in this mv, in this song, but I can't put my finger on it on what it is exactly. Particularly, I am torn over the symbolisms, why these specific visuals were used, why these specific transitions, and so on, how they would fit in with the general timeline and the overall story, it's confusing, at least, as of now where there's a lack of English translation. I'm certain everything will fall into place, but until then, I want to discuss my theories.

1.) "I'm Stitch Dot." I first approached the title quite literally, stitch as in stitches and it may relate to the tapestry and quilts Roma's kingdom is known for. Then I looked at the possible meanings it could have in literature, to which I have discovered that "stitch" may refer to a sudden pain, which is understandable since you get hurt when you get stitches, or, you get hurt which is why you need to get stitches but you end up hurting yourself more because of those stitches.

That last thought was close, it made me relate it to roses, and my thought looked a little bit like this: "A rose, it's beautiful, but it has thorns. Find yourself pricking yourself, you get hurt. And it's somewhat similar to a dot. But sometimes, that aside, sometimes when you get hurt, the pain is not similar to a mere dot. Sometimes, the pain is too much that you need to get stitches to fix yourself and keep yourself together." That thought is VERY close to what the title wanted to convey because, vague it may be, I tried to actually say the title out loud "I'm Stitch Dot" and, perhaps it's just me, but it sounded something similar to "I'm stitched up."

That thought made me compare it to the visuals, where different fabrics were stitched up to form one quilt, one tapestry. Those different fabrics were supposed to symbolize the different parts of Romarriche...

2.) Fabrics.

The fabric here is most likely representing the "old french" or "old american" aesthetic they wanted him to convey through his clothing, and perhaps a part of his personality. This is Roma on surface level.

There's a lot going on here, but let me break it down for you.

a.) The white fabric with pink flowers: Most probably relating to an "innocent" kind of love, one that symbolizes his kind heart, his caring and generous nature.

b.) The purple (or magenta?) fabric with pink flowers: Most probably relating to a slightly more intense love than the other fabric, probably representing his want and determination to protect others, which may relate to this line from his wiki used to describe him: "Determination Hidden Deep Within a Tolerant Nature."

c.) The blackened red fabric that looks like it has roses but also has this white thingy that looks like it was scribbled down randomly: An extension of the previous fabric, but here, it got intense to the point of disarray and this is where the SEEDS take place. Roma dislikes it when his friends are hurt, while this may not be an insecurity, it is a dislike, therefore a negative emotion, therefore the SEEDS would provoke him so they could feed on those negative emotions. The rose pattern is him, the white scribbles is him being plagued by paranoia of not being able to protect his friends or anyone if the situation calls it. This leads him spiralling down and overthinking and over-worrying which will lead the SEEDS right to where they are and the cycle will continue on until the unfortunate happens.

d.) The black fabric: Him getting corrupted. Easy as that.

This struggle to remain calm but at the same time to be on guard to protect whoever dear to him will be the main thing that will lead the SEEDS right to him if he doesn't balance it out.

The same thing applied here, only half of the screen is mixed with the red textile overlapping the black fabric. Most probably, if meant in a good way (to which I hope it is), means that he managed to balance it out. The fabric we talked about became more vibrant, and perhaps a bit more orderly now. While the fabric that consumes the second part of the screen, the black fabric with red textiles, most probably means how even with these negative emotions, he managed to find that point where he managed to find good in it, he managed to find the power he has, how instead of paranoia, he sees determination, and covered it with the intense emotions that he has now embraced.

And Merold? Why does he have the purple fabric? Well, his intense emotions has been "tamed" in a way during Your Melody and had now learned his lesson.

3.) Frames.

Most probably, the frames being used in this mv is to show how Roma used to confine himself, or his emotions rather to keep them from being too intense or scare people off, kind of like Merold in that broken mirror. But throughout, he has learn to open up, and be free.

Which is why he went from this:

To this:

But unfortunately, I don't think I could end this happily. Perhaps bittersweet.

4.) The distance between the lords and knights.

This is something very interesting I found in the comments section. (Thank you and credit to these people, by the way.)

They highlighted how even though the knights and their lords are close, there is still a distinct line, this distance that none of them dare to cross. And this speaks a lot considering Roma's relationship with his lord is probably the closest out of all the knights. Marroncream was the one who taught him how to make sweets and sewing, this solidified their bond and brought them closer together. They cherish each other, care for each other, yes, but still, there is this distance between them that never seems to close. Perhaps it is their titles? Their duties? The sense of professionalism? This is most probably why gray roses was shown - they symbolize formality and sophistication. Or perhaps he just struggles to convey it properly. The knights do have this "sickness" where they don't know how to express their feelings properly and do things they think is for the best for the people they love without thinking clearly (sometimes).

But what I really like about the second comment is this line "Although you don't your love isn't very beautiful, do you also think it's as important as the needlework of your beloved master?"

This love grew because of his bond with Marroncream, primarily because of them bonding over needlework. If ever he considers his love as something that is not very beautiful, the same love that grew from needleworking with his beloved master, and the love that came from seeing the finished art his master has made, would he consider the needlework of his master not very beautiful like his love? Would it be as important as his "not very beautiful" love? He would most probably answer no, but what he is implying is leading to the answer yes. Why?

Like I said, this love grew from needleworking with his master and the awe and admiration from seeing the finish product of his master's finished needlework. If he were to consider his love "not very beautiful" he would deem his master's needlework "not very beautiful" as well.

That would most probably leave him silent. Contemplating. Wondering about his answer. This is a common problem with the knights, one that I would relate to my earlier statement about the red fabric (c). Him feeling so much yet all of this thoughts are practically scribbles that he can't think clearly and wouldn't know how to express it properly... That is something he would have to learn. That is something he has learn thought the mv.

5.) Eyes Closed.

Perfect! I was wondering about this, and it's quite fitting as well. I've said this in passing before where eyes have been quite the prominent symbol in Fragaria. First shown in Ever Red, then Your Melody, so on so forth. But the most recent one is Bouquet of Wishes, and now, this.

And it's quite interesting to know this point because the story this comment has mentioned (Thank you and credits to this person), fits the overall world of Fragaria in a way that I've never thought about before. Cover your right eye, then you won't see your past — how the first timeline of the Fragaria world has fallen. Cover your left eyes, and you won't see your future — the uncertainty, the potential of having history repeat itself when they least expect it because they lost their memories. Right, applies to Roma, left, applies to both Merold and Puruth, But what does it mean to have both eyes closed then? I haven't read the story myself, but, if I were to connect this with the mv and the overall world of Fragaria, it could be described as momentary peace.

You close your eyes, free yourself from looking at the horrible things that has occured for too long, and let yourself relax... breathe... think... reflect... You close your eyes and see black. The void of color, or lack thereof, you usually associate with the SEEDS, but in this moment where it is just you, you would be able to breathe and free yourself of paranoia and anxiety, and reflect... You close your eyes and see your friends, your beloved master, your people, you see how they have supported you all throughout, you see how far you have come despite the consequences. You close your eyes and see everything. Everything you have done. Everything you haven't done. Everything that needs to be done.

You close your eyes, and suddenly, everything is falling into place... The only thing you need to do now is open them, but keep that sight in your heart, stitch it into your very being, your very should... And take it from there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“The knights ask nothing in return for their love.”

[mjis0nfire]

DPxP5 - The Mansons' Host Kids

The foreign exchange program was a surprise, but not entirely unwelcome for Sam. Until her parents dropped the bombshell that they will be hosting two of the kids. For fuck's sake, one of them is literally a model despite being her age - blonde hair, blue eyes, thin and pretty, magazine covers and interviews- God the more she looks at her picture the more she looks like Star.

Her new host brother doesn't look all that better - a jock posing as a punk with that bleach-blond hair.

She hates it.

And she hates it even more when they actually show up and act all sunshine and smiles, especially the girl, Ann. It's just a reminder of the conventional 'family' Sam's parents wished they got to enjoy.

She doesn't even notice the piercings on Ryuji, Ann's variety in her bags, or how the two cringe and shrink in at how painfully cheerful her parents are to have them as 'part of their family'. She just gives them the cold shoulder. All of them. And rants to Danny about her frustrations when Tucker starts begging for Ann's number.

That resentment bubbles over one night when Ann stays with Sam to help clean after dinner. Especially as Ann tries to ask about her fashion to fill the very purposeful silence.

"You can drop the act, yknow." Sam cuts her off, annoyed.

A tone that seems to genuinely confuse the blonde. "Sorry?"

"The whole smiles and rainbows and tolerant shtick. I can smell the bullshit from here. Your poser friend doesn't help matters."

Ann's eyes widen a bit at her bluntness before she settles. "I'm not bullshitting you. And I don't think Ryuji would count as a 'poser'-"

"Please, he's got 'jock' written all over him. Like he's just trying to be 'cool'. It's not gonna work. Not on me."

Ann can't help but give a huff of a laugh. "And here I thought those cliques were just for crappy American movies-" She stops her tease when she sees Sam's glare her way.

"He hasn't run in over a year. Not competitively. And he dyed his hair our first year of high school. Mostly so I wouldn't be the only blonde in class."

That gets Sam's attention, softening her annoyance a bit. Come to think of it... It is odd that a Japanese girl would have flaxen blonde hair...

"I ask about your fashion because I'm genuinely interested. It looks good on you! And I know Japan has different fashion subcultures than here, so I don't want to be insensitive or compare it to something it's not, yknow?"

"Seriously?" Sam asks with almost a laugh in her voice.

"Seriously!" The blonde's smile brightens. "I didn't come here to poke fun at Americans. Well- not too much anyway." She quickly and jokingly corrects herself. A joke that actually gets Sam to chuckle a bit.

"We deserve most of it, honestly."

"Heeyyy, don't lump yourself in with that!"

The two girls finish the dishes quickly, but still linger in the kitchen for a long while, chatting and swapping stories and fashion tips. Turns out Danny’s host siblings are friends with Ann and Ryuji.

Maybe this whole thing won’t be so bad.

[leahrintarou]

☠︎︎ DAY TWENTY-TWO: CUNNILINGUS FT. SAKUSA

☠︎︎ WARNINGS: cunnilingus, temporary long distanced relationship, touched starved, female orgasm, soft/fluff

☠︎︎ WORD COUNT: 1.1k

"we need to talk"

y/n voiced, ignoring sakusa's attempts at trying to raise the sexual tension that was immediately rising as soon as he walked through the doors to place a non innocent kiss onto y/n's lips. y/ n would've fallen into his need for pleasure if it wasn't for the fact that the two had not communicated in weeks. "kiyoomi" she called once again, noticing how he let out an annoyed groan into the crook of her neck.

"can't it wait?" he questioned, making y/n roll her eyes, this time taking the situation into her own hands, pushing his figure off of her own. she stared into his confusion filled irises, waiting for him to at least say something about his unexcused disappearance for an entire two weeks. "kiyoomi, i haven't seen you in literally two weeks and when i do finally see you, all you want is for me to pleasure you?"

"is that not normal?"

"you never contacted me any day of those two weeks other than when you landed and when you told me that you were getting on your flight back home" y/n finally put the cause of her frustration into words, which only made sakusa raise both of his eyebrows in realization. when she were only met with his silence, an annoyed sigh was the only thing that was accompanied by the sounds of her footsteps that slowly faded away from sakusa's standing figure.

"n/n" he called, following behind her as she mumbled curses of frustration. if y/n never had brought up the situation, he wouldn't have known that something like that would've been bothering her. y/n wasn't the one for complaining or voicing her frustration, especially when it came to their relationship so sakusa knew that the topic actually and drastically affected her when she did speak up.

y/n attempted to leave the door ajar since she wanted space but at the same time, didn't want to stay mad at her lover. she knew he was busy and she probably could've initiated communication too but, instead she only waited for his messages or calls but only received neither. "n/n, i didn't realize. i was caught up with practice and-" sakusa stopped his words after noticing that y/n kept a look of frustration on her features, instead of it morphing into relaxation.

"so you had no freetime to send a text to let me know that you were okay?"

"n/n, im sorry..i'll make sure to keep you updated in the future. i won't let it happen again" he stated, eye's focusing into the one's of y/n's to let y/n know that he truly meant every word that fell past his lips. "kiyoomi, being home alone for so long without you isn't the best thing ever, you know?" y/n sighed, allowing her features to relax. before sakusa was about to speak again, he awaited for y/n to continue her already started sentence.

"especially when i don't know if you're okay or not"

sakusa let out a sigh of relief when y/n's frustration and anger seemed to simmer down at his promising words of reassurance. y/n took a seat on the edge of their shared bed, the feeling of sakusa's weight accompanied beside her almost felt nostalgic. her previous night's alone felt like some of the longest due to the fact that her sleep schedule was already off track, it got cold without him, and sakusa wasn't there to accompany her on those...especially needy nights.

sakusa leaned in closer to y/n, trying to notice if she'd accept his affection at the moment. he was satisfied after y/n pressed her lips against his own and y/n couldn't help but feel the same way too. "can i taste you?" he mumble, word's brushing past her lips when he pulled back for a short second. y/n only looked at sakusa with pleading eyes which is all he needed as conformation. he ignored his own wants, pleasuring y/n being his only goal that's he'll successfully accomplish no matter how much his own neediness tried to change his mind.

"lay down and let me take care of you"

y/n followed his words, her interest peaking when he stood up from the bed to kneel down onto the carpeted floor. he pulled her figure closer to himself before motioning for her to lift her hips so he'd be able to remove her bottoms. once the fabric of her once worn clothing met with the floor, sakusa arms wrapped around both of y/n's thighs, hands palming the inner area of them before spreading her, for his own access to where she needed attention the most.

he wasted no time to allow his tongue to make contact with her bud. he wanted to prove his stated determination to y/n and couldn't help but grin when a mumble of his name erupted pass her lips. sakusa knew how much y/n enjoyed the pleasure that he could give to her with just his mouth and only his mouth. it was an ego booster to say the least.

although it was so familiar, at the same time it wasnt. y/n had not felt a sensational relief like this up until now. sakusa decided against teasing and edging, once again, wanting nothing more that to give y/n the pleasure that she's been wanting for. his tongue made various movements and in return, erupted all different volumes and streams of moans. he didn't even realize how much he missed pleasuring y/n too.

the way her legs struggled to stay sturdy against the sides of his face. with a few moans against her suddenly sensitive sex, sakusa smiled when his lust filled irises met with the pleading ones of y/n. he outstretched his hand to grip her own, reassuringly running his thumb back and forth against her own. he tapped her hand, signifying for her to let go and finally relax against him.

y/n did just that. her orgasm washing over her so dominantly as if she was holding it back for what seemed like hours. sakusa was pleased with the whole thing, her shaking legs, her panting expression that was accompanied by her chest with rose and fell at an unsteady pace, and of course; the thankfulness that was shown through her gaze once it met with his.

once she sat up, her hand traveled to his evident arousal that was being shown through the fabric of his pants before he gently grabbed her wrist to move it away.

"the focus is on you. tell me what you want"

[yarpharp]

Dragon Age Veilguard ramble (with some spoilers about the ending of the whole thing)

I... I know there are plenty of people defending this game. But on a story level, I am kinda confused. And frustrated. So The Veil is powered by the Evanuris who are immortal and trapped in a special alternate space veil prison thing where they serve as batteries until somebody cracks open the Veil.

So First Question: how the fuck didn't they (the Evanuris) escape from their prisons during Inquisition? I'm... I'm really confused how that didn't happen. I mean, Solas/Corypheus bungled it so bad it cracked a huge hole in the sky! TWICE! Once in the beginning of the game and then again at the climax! And what about the small rifts? I mean, Solas' knife ritual cracked open a hole in the Veil that WASNT MUCH BIGGER THAN A RIFT. Why didn't one of the Gods escape then? And you can't tell me those dumb little devices we helped hunt down for Solas were somehow keeping the Gods back. Most players didn't even find them all!

Second Question: did they seriously retcon Morrigan and her fucking son? And what is the deal with the Mythal lore? I mean, I ain't SHOCKED Solas probably once fucked Mythal or had feelings for her. That seemed obvious to me. But what the fuck about Mythal/Flemeth's scary warnings in Inquisition and DA2 about "reckonings" and "finally getting her vengeance"? ONE OF THE DA4 ENDINGS IS MYTHAL SOMEHOW REACHING OUT FROM MORRIGAN (oh and apparently Morrigan, she who feared her mom and feared becoming her mom's new meat suit for extending her life, decided to become Mythal's next host I guess???? Seriously???) TO TELL SOLAS TO LET GO OF HIS MISSION AND GRIEF? Are... Are you serious? What happened to all that fucking anger and plotting? Was that the ultimate plot of hers? Make Solas become a battery with the remainder of her killers? I... What. And what happened with the Old God Soul? Seriously, what about that? Is that supposed to be how Solas transforms into a fucked up hyena dog? (Sorry the design for the dread wolf is kinda disappointing to me.)

Third Question: Why is there a path option where somehow the Inquisitor Lover actually finally manages to persuade him to do the right thing? BRO, WHAT WAS TRESPASSER FOR THEN??? IF SOLAS IS WILLING TO DOUBLE-CROSS HIS LOVER AND ROOK TO GET HIS WAY, WHY WRITE THAT ENDING SCENARIO?

Fourth Question: Did the developers forget that Solas is actually pretty neutral about Blood Magic? Because there was a whole scene in the game where he claimed he abhorred blood magic and then proceeds to reveal the Veil is definitely partially a blood magic ritual. Or was it supposed to be a really lame "oh look he lies!" moment?

Fifth Question: Does this mean we retconned all those codex entries and Cole ramblings about how Solas was a spirit of Wisdom once and he LITERALLY HAS THAT SCAR ON HIS FACE BECAUSE HE BURNED MYTHAL'S VALLASLIN OFF WITH MAGIC? Because this makes the whole "Mythal and Solas are lovers and Solas did this all for her, blah blah" feel far more fucking malicious if that's still canon. I mean... Isn't it a bit weird to have at one point opposed the woman/god who quite literally owned you as an advisor/agent of her will, and then you burn her slave markings off your face, and somehow you became lovers somewhere in all of that? What kinda toxic bullshit is that? WHY TRY TO DESTROY THE WORLD FOR A TOXIC EX? Wanting to kill the Evanuris? Valid. Wanting to tear down the Veil to restore the elven people after seeing what happened to them? Fucked up but strangely valid. But arguing that he went through all that bullshit for his ex-lover because he "wanted to honor their promise and memory" feels really fucking janky and sloppy as a plot point.

And Sixth Final Question: Did bioware really not give me the ultimate bad ending of "Tear Down the Veil"? Because that's just plain disappointing.

[queenofthearchipelago]

I feel like the reason some people in the fandom chose to look at the final fifteen in this sort of "I'm team Aziraphale / anti-Crowley" or "I'm team Crowley / anti-Aziraphale" kind of way is because they forget that Crowley and Aziraphale are literally two sides of the same coin.

And everyone either relates more to one side or the other. For me, I relate to Crowley more. I understand him easier. When the final fifteen came, nothing he said confused me or caught me off guard. I gasped and screamed, sure. But I didn't need to analyze his words the way I needed to analyze Aziraphale's.

Does that mean I'm saying I don't relate to Aziraphale at all? No. Honestly, the more I think about Aziraphale, the more I see myself in him too. It's just that the bits of Aziraphale I relate to are either bits of myself that are harder to see, or bits of myself I don't like.

And so when I watch the final fifteen as a separate person, not part of the coin, I relate to one side more than the other (I relate to both sides equally but it's hard to accept that sometimes.) But I also have to be honest with myself.

If I weren't just the audience, would I be Aziraphale or Crowley?

Would I be Crowley, not letting myself back into a toxic relationship that hurt me? Would I want to run and yell at the sky so that they couldn't find me anymore? Would I want to just allow myself the life where I could have one good thing I've found in the entire universe?

Or would I be Aziraphale? Would I allow myself to be convinced (or manipulated) into going back to a place that hurt me? Or, depending on your theory, would I go back into the lion's den and try to change the system that oppresses me? Would I want to make the world a better place for the person I loved most, even if it was dangerous? Even if they began to hate me for it? (Not that I think Crowley hates him, but what does Aziraphale think that Crowley thinks of him?)

I know myself enough to know that I'm Crowley. I wanna run. I'm scared and I love you and we can be safe if we just keep going forward. Why are you asking me to go back there? To them? You know what they did! You're enough for me, everything to me, why are you chosing them over just allowing yourself to have me?

There's a bit of me that's Aziraphale. A bit of me that would go back, if I truly thought I could fix it. If I was the better manipulator.

But I think not everyone can do that, they see themselves in one OR the other. They take sides because they can't see both sides. And honestly maybe that's part of the point of Heaven and Hell in the show in the first place. They don't see the value of the other side. The merits, the thoughtfulness. The shades of grey of it all.

Maybe most people who are anti Aziraphale can't relate to that desperate tone Michael Sheen chose to use when he said that Heaven is the side of good. Can't relate to desperately needing to hope that this place you come from is still somehow good at the core. Because how could you come from corruption?

And maybe most people who are completely obliterating Crowley's character in the tags don't relate to the bursting need to just be free of the things that hold you back from every good thing you've ever wanted for yourself.

I see myself in both. I've been there. I'd be Crowley out of the two of them. But I see Aziraphale now. The more I think of him the more I understand him.

As much as I ask questions (so many questions) that get me in trouble, I also refuse to ask them out loud for the same reason.

I have people in my life who think I have this incredible capacity to think everything through. Every possible avenue of consideration. And I also have people in my life who get frustrated with me for not thinking hard enough or fast enough.

I have made some difficult decisions on what was good and what was right and made my choice that I would do what I thought was right over what I was raised to think was good. And I also made some of those decisions in complete agonizing secret.

The true ending for good omens 2 is realizing for yourself, however you get there, that you (yes, YOU) are both of them.

As David and Michael said in the interviews, Aziraphale and Crowley are fascinated and completely infuriated by the other. Because they're so different. Because they're so similar. And if you don't feel the same way yet, relating to one, and being amazed at how you relate to the other. Being fascinated and infuriated by it, then you just haven't reached the end yet.

When I rewatch the very ending of the season these days, I don't see a demon, completely in love with an angel who is leaving him. I see myself watching myself do something I would never do. Except I would do it. I wouldn't, I'd never. And yet I would. And I watch myself get in the car and drive away from the version of me that did.

[beanghostprincess]

Usopp is jealous of what Zoro and Sanji have. There's nothing romantic about it, but there is passion between them. And yes, Sanji and Usopp fight but not that much and never that way and they used to do it more when they weren't dating. And it's not like fighting has anything to do with passion or love or whatever, Usopp loves the way Sanji loves and the sweetness he always offers. But- But it's- It's a dumb reason. It's stupid. But Nami mentions something about Sanji and Zoro getting a room and Robin adds something about passion also coming from hatred and arguing. So Usopp tries to make Sanji mad. Again, stupid. But he tries. He tries to do everything on the list that makes Sanji lose control because he wants him to yell and fight with him and have the same back and forth they used to have, not the same he has with Zoro, but, you know. Something more passionate. But he never manages to make him angry. It's Sanji the one who's always either apologizing or holding himself back or trying hard not to say anything hurtful. And fine, okay, that's cute. That's so sweet. He loves Usopp so much. Too much. But it's a bit frustrating. So one day Usopp yells "Why won't you get angry at me?!" / "What? Why would you ever want me to do that? Did you hit your head, mon amour?" / "No! I just- Fuck. It's stupid. Drop it. It's dumb" / "It's obviously not dumb if it's bothering you so much. Tell me" / "I don't want to" / "Usopp" / "Nope" / "For fuck's sake, Usopp! Just tell me already or I will get it out of you!" But he grabs Usopp by the shirt while saying this like he used to do when they were just friends bickering, and it does something to Usopp. His heart is doing backflips. His blood is not, uh, in his brain precisely if you know what I mean. Sanji notices this after a few seconds and goes "Wait- Shit. Does seeing me angry turn you on?" / "Nope. Not at all. But if you could do it again that would be great-" / "Jesus fucking christ, Usopp, I can't stand you" / "You know, I'm not sure if you're truly angry right now or if you're indulging me. It's a bit confusing with, uh, the whole topic-" / "I actually don't know either. Let me think".

So turns out they end up talking about it before doing anything because Sanji is a romantic and he's all respectful and even if Usopp is dying there for more of that, he'll have to wait until they have the talk. Yay. Boundaries. Consent. Whatever, Usopp is stressed. "I just don't want to hurt you-" / "Damn, calm down. I'm not telling you to beat me up, I'm telling you to, like, I dunno-" / "Why would you even want me to get angry at you? Is- Is what we do not enough or-" / "No! Yes! I mean- It's amazing, babe, really. I was just considering... Other options... And... One of the options might be, you know..." / "I actually don't know" / "You're just so sweet to me and I love that about you, but you have to know-" / "It turns you on when I get angry?" / "You're extremely hot when you're mad. I just think a bit of... Passion? Would be good for us. For me, mostly. For my dick-" / "I get it, dear, you don't need to explain it".

And one thing leads to another and when they know, they know. Usopp will tease Sanji while he's cooking. Will bother him every now and then when he's busy. Will do things he knows he isn't supposed to do that make Sanji go insane. If Luffy did those things he would end up in the bottom of the sea without hesitation. But since it's Usopp doing it, they just end up arguing (Sanji is literally incapable of not asking every fucking second if Usopp is comfortable, but whatever, good enough. He's sweet like that even when he's mad) and then they make out wherever they are. And it's messy and intimate because they're disgustingly in love.

[arammies]

pac: your qualities that surprise people

ू take a breath and focus on the question. then pick a pile that stands out the most to you. you may pick more than one pile. if nothing catches your attention, then there is simply no message for you here at the current moment.

ू many many thanks to my guides and your guides for helping with these messages :)

ू ~0.4k words each pile. there are three parts of this reading; in general, strangers/acquaintances, and your close ones.

ू deck used; the weird cat tarot

from left to right, top to bottom; pile 1, pile 2, pile 3, pile 4

· · ─────── ˗ ˏˋ ❀ ´ˎ ˗ ─────── · ·

pile 1

— general —

[ eight of cups ]

okay the keyword here is content. whenever you think something doesn't serve you, while you take time to be frustrated about it, it doesn't take long for you to walk away even without knowing what the future holds. you have a very strong will and respect your worth so much so when you know you need to move on, you'll immediately move on. you struggle to let go but once you decide enough is enough, you do let go. i feel compelled to tell you that it doesn't matter if it's small steps or big steps, the thing here is you do indeed make the first steps so kudos to you for letting go things that don't add up to your life :)

— strangers / acquaintances —

[ three of swords, seven of cups ]

woah. you're so strong. you've been through literal hell and you still hold those dear to you close. not to say you're not phased by the challenges of your life, but you understand that the law of nature is that everything will pass so you give grace to yourself and the people around you very much. you gain more knowledge on what to hold onto and what to let go as these challenges come. you're also very adaptable in every aspects. you don't like to be fixed in a box. for example, you don't have a specific aesthetic that you relate to, and you simply like everything from here and there. so like when people talk to you, they're like "wait, how do they have so many different interests??" . i don't know why but they're really like giving me "gasp, shocked, ???" energy lmaoo you keep doing you pile 1!! be awesome!!

— close ones —

[ the chariot, two of pentacles ]

oh my god pile 1, so like your qualities that surprise them is also funnily the explanation for the strangers / acquintance part. that you're a very, very balanced person. when you think and make choices, you're aware of both the materialistic and the spiritual world, both the feelings and the consequences. often, you try not to view things just from one perspective which is also why your close ones think you make one of the best judgement. i feel like they go to you for advices a lot and not like just minor ones either, the very very big ones that can make or break their world, because again, you help them see in a wider perspective. this quality of yours is also what makes it possible for you to have multiple different things or interests going on for you, because you know which to prioritize. and you might even enjoy having different source of knowledge and stuffs going on for you because even though sometimes it might be a hassle to keep up, you're just really content with what you have.

thank you for reading pile 1, have a great day !!

· · ─────── ˗ ˏˋ ❀ ´ˎ ˗ ─────── · ·

pile 2

— general —

[ the moon ]

people are so scared and confused by how you live your life. they don't think they'll ever get how you manage to embrace your situation with open arms, how you can move forward in life living like "that", their words not mine. i'm feeling that the majority of you might have been or still is, unemployed, homeless or freelancing etc. they can't grasp how you can live so calmly despite your life being so stagnant. but at the same time, they're also very inspired by it ?? in a way, they're basically saying "i don't know how you can live like that but i respect you for it". your energy is also very refreshing and i've never felt this relaxed so i assume people feel that way about you. when they spend time with you, you remind people to breathe.

— strangers / acquaintances —

[ ace of pentacles, three of cups ]

people who don't know you well are always suprised with how abundant you are, or that you make your life seems so. as in you're someone who goes along with the flow of life, and goes through it rather peacefully with whatever that is going on. they also notice how you accept both the good parts and bad parts of both yourself and life, rather you cherish it. you might be someone who doesn't understand good and bad in societal terms like people having icks or people calling someone a good person or a bad person, to you no one is purely good or bad. everyone is simply human. so the way you see things makes your judgement very clear; you acknowledge both sides but i get the feeling you don't like the term of pros and cons or good and bad in general because you think everything is just simply be.

— close ones —

[ the high priestess, queen of swords ]

again, you're just so good at simply being there. you don't feel the need to rush into anything if there's no urgency to, you don't mind doing nothing. which surprise your close ones, because people often are scared at not doing anything. but you're simply very accepting of the things going on in your life, you acknowledge that you'll have different phases in life and this is just one of it. you might even come off as very unbothered but i get that this trait of yours doesn't come naturally, you went through some hardships which opened your eyes to shift to this new way of seeing things. you're open to various opinions and are very patient and understanding with your life. because of this, some of your close ones might even look up to you.

thank you for reading pile 2 , have a great day !

· · ─────── ˗ ˏˋ ❀ ´ˎ ˗ ─────── · ·

pile 3

— general —

[ knight of cups ]

they're amazed that you're such a go-getter!! you just keep on having things after things. and it also surprises them because you're still so excited for your journey despite them seeing you already tried many things, you just want to keep trying and trying. they're also amused because amidst all this busy schedule, people can see that you would always make time for your loved ones, whether when close or far. they see that you bring a part of your close ones around in things you do and places you go.

— strangers / acquaintances —

[ ten of cups, the devil ]

ooh they see you as someone completely happy with what you have. perhaps you achieved most of your goals in life or are about to. but you're completely in love with almost every aspects in life especially your connections and relationships with other people. which is also why they're so weirded out by how you still have things to look forward to do in the future. to them, it's like you've achieved happiness, why are you chasing for more? why are you planning more and more moves? aren't you happy enough? which to that i say fuck them lmao cause you clearly know what you're doing.

— close ones —

[ knight of wands, wheel of fortune ]

yippeee!! shut them haters mouth zip zip!! your close ones clearly see that you're not as greedy as people make you out to be. it's true you're working on more goals, but they're aware that these steps you're taking are only to deepen the connections and relationships that you have aww. for example, you want to get more money so you can buy your close ones stuffs they can't afford or to donate to those that clearly need more help than you. and you know that since you're able to do so, you will do it. and you clearly enjoy doing this, your closed ones can see that. again, you've achieved most of your big dreams and if you're still in the process, this wheel of fortune card is just another confirmation that your dreams will be aligned way sooner than you'd initially thought. also i'm getting that you're not just abundant in physical world, but also the spiritual world. you might be one of those people whose gut hunches are always right and it spook your close ones a lot haha. you could also have precognitive dreams :0

thank you for reading pile 3 , have a great day !!

· · ─────── ˗ ˏˋ ❀ ´ˎ ˗ ─────── · ·

pile 4

— general —

[ page of cups, ten of pentacles ]

you're very playful. it seems like you've newly developed this trait? or strengthen it more? like you just gotten out of a period of self journey of accepting yourself and your wounds. now, the people see that whatever danger throws at you, you just kind of blurt your tongue at it? lmaooo and for people that are more acquainted with you, they notice you're facing your past wounds with such a cheeky energy. it reminds me of lightly joking about your traumas because you've processed and accepted them, and not in a joking as coping to distract you from the depths of your wounds way. you're also very very stable, or long term stability is about to come your way. now you just sit in your glory and you watch as things unfold, you're confident in your capabilities. everything in your life is aligning to a space of more security and comfort, and this is all because of how you have this set of values and morality and hold onto them tightly. you're just doing you, is what i get their general reaction to this are.

— strangers / acquaintances —

[ six of wands, eight of swords ]

it seems that you gained some positive attention like getting praises, promotions etc and i feel like it was very recently as well. regardless, the cards are telling me that you have a fair amount of both people supporting you and wanting to see you fall. now, regarding the achievement, those who support you from afar are really proud of how far you came, that your gentle soul finally gets the appreciation they deserved. to them, you have a really pure heart and energy while being such a hard worker. you really have their support, pile 4. now onto the people that don't like you as much, these can be external factors that had or are negatively impacting you, but i feel for the most of you, it's the people instead. they see here that you're standing tall in yourself, not shaken up by their advances as you deliberately close your eyes and ears to anything they have to say. you also don't make a move either and this really hurts their pride (lol serves them). they're seeing you in all your glory and your unbothered energy makes their insecure asses more insecure.

— close ones —

[ page of pentacles, seven of cups ]

your close ones are aware that you cherish your inner child very much. tbh this whole spread screams inner child. anyway, you make decisions after listening to your inner child but you're also very grounded in reality. like you have that thirst for enjoyment a child would have but you're not a child in terms that you are blindly going anywhere without knowing the cautions of the place. you nurture your inner child very much so you try to things that would make them happy, and your close ones are really happy you're happy. remember that achievement in the strangers / acquintances part? i feel like that alone has opened up so many opportunities and choices for you, choices that would make your inner child so happy. they're just super proud of you, they know you've been waiting for this day. and since you have a solid foundation of principles, they trust that you would make the best call for future choices whether or not you ask them for their advice. there's just so many good things waiting for you pile 4 :)

thank you for reading pile 4 , have a great day !

· · ─────── ˗ ˏˋ ❀ ´ˎ ˗ ─────── · ·

[acourtofthought]

SJM regressed the growth of both Nessian and Elucien from ACOWAR to ACOFAS.

Naturally, after Nessian's book I'd expect Elucien? I will admit, the HOFAS stuff seem to shine a light on Az, but I don't see why he HAS to be next.

I love Gwynriel, I love Gwyn and I love Az when he's interacting with Gwyn

But Az getting his HEA before Lucien and Elain would make me so mad. No because if he had a mate, and if another male went after her.. he'd end the guy. For someone who values his 'religion' (eye roll, the cauldron, mother whatever) he seems to disrespect it by going after another male's mate. Would he have done it to his brothers? Why is no one talking about this? And he's not even after Elain for a romantic reason!

No slander to Elain though, girlie is new to all this. I understand her even if she frustrates me at times (like tryna kiss Az when Lucien was there, I totally get her wanting a fling, but I wish she'd literally picked any other day plz my heart hurts for Lulu)

And honestly, I see why announcing Azriel's book would make E*riels seethe.. but, I would feel more vindicated if Sarah announces an Elain book with Lucien. Given how much they keep crapping on Lucien, it would stun them.

Something you said above stood out to me and is a bit different than the way I usually approach Elucien being next. I do think she deserves her time to shine after so many books of being pushed to the side by the other characters, same with Lucien. But I also think it's time for readers to understand why she is treating Lucien this way, what she was thinking on Solstice when her mate was nearby. That is such a topic of debate in the fandom. The other side claims it's proof Elain doesn't care for Lucien, some Gwynriels and Elucien's are a little put off by her seeming lack of concern, and some don't hold it against her but they want to understand why she did what she did. I think it would be odd for the author to let yet another Solstice pass by with zero insight as to why it happened that way (especially if at that point an Elucien endgame is all but confirmed if Gwynriel were to end up together). That's another book where readers are left puzzled by her actions with no explanation. Another book where readers are still frustrated by those actions with no explanation. At some point the author has to begin providing reasons for why a character is behaving the way they are and I think we're there with Elain. Why is she often absent from important IC meetings? Why are people noting different expressions on her face, watching her do things and deciding what those things mean but then being given information that contradicts their initial impression? Why was she warm then cold towards Lucien? Why did Feyre think maybe she wanted her hands cut up which is why she didn't use the gloves Lucien gave her but the following year we have confirmation that Elain is wearing gloves (just not Lucien's)? Why did Nesta think she was so happy and settled only for Elain to confirm she still has trauma? I personally love Elain but I can't pretend she's a fan favorite and I think the main reason for that is Sarah has her character remaining a bit of a mystery, giving us varying opinions through the other characters which confuses many. I think she has a lot of depth and there are very valid reasons for the way she's behaving but since we don't have confirmation of anything, to others it is at times going to look as if she's being unkind or thoughtless. Again, I think an author can only write this kind of narrative for a character for so long before the character ends up being written off by the fandom and I do feel this is a perfect time for Sarah to finally reveal Elain to all of us before the hate of her becomes worse.