#unpleasant bug experiences all around so far !!

[cowdragons]

we have discovered the biggest roach ive ever not seen (it was described to me as my brave dog and roommate removed its accidentally squished ( :0[[[[[ ) corpse today) and aahhhh. aahhh oh my god. HHH oh my god oh my god help help help help help

[shadowshrike]

The Curious Case of Halsin and Astarion's Ascension

For anyone who's occasionally poked around my stuff, you probably know that I found my Evil run of Baldur's Gate 3 (by which I mean my selfish run where I tried to gain as much power, wealth, and companion trust as I could) to be my most satisfying thus far. Part of that was the unique experience of having Halsin ask to join Tav and Astarion's relationship post-Ascension.

At the time, I said yes because it made sense for my character to "collect" an Archdruid. Out of character, I was tickled by the idea that Halsin confessed after Astarion became the new biggest bad in the land. Halsin was supposed to be a Good guy. Surely, either a possessive Astarion would be spitting mad about the arrangement, or Halsin would have second thoughts about Mr. Vampire Ascendent once he got a taste. I was ready for the drama.

It never came. In fact, the glimpses of their dynamic were so comfortable and playful that I was shocked.

Since then I've been doing a lot of thinking about Halsin and why he might act how he does throughout the Ascension storyline. I realize most of this can be handwaved with 'fanservicey romance writing.' That's true for parts of all romance paths, honestly, and I don't consider it a wholly bad thing given the game's goal to make you its center. However, I think being dismissive of the writing is not as much fun as building headcanons that work with any set of behaviors or lines you get.

So enjoy some theories pulled from datamined dialogue and my personal games. As always, this is completely hypothetical - I encourage everyone to write 'canon' in their personal playthroughs however they prefer.

Note: it's impossible to get all these lines in a single run due to some hinging on Astarion leaving and some may be bugged or near impossible to trigger. They're just being used to explore a character and dynamic that I don't see much of around fan spaces.

Halsin on the value of lives

To briefly set the stage, it's important to understand how Halsin views life and justice. He spells it out rather clearly if Kagha kills Arabella and her parents are also dead.

Halsin doesn't consider himself to be an arbiter of good and evil, only a steward of nature and its Balance. He highly values life. However, it's not him, the leader of the Grove, who is ultimately responsible for deciding Kagha's fate; it's the wronged parties or, barring that, nature itself who should decide her true punishment.

Halsin: As for the idol? It's nothing compared to a life. A mere object, next to one of nature's creations. I cannot absolve you, even if you are repentant. The girl's parents should have decided your fate, but they perished. Instead, nature will judge you. You are banished from this place - banished from everywhere the Oak Father's creations thrive.

But valuing the sanctity of life doesn't mean he doesn't also understand the importance of sacrifice. For example, if Wyll chooses his freedom over his father, Halsin counsels that it's a necessity to sacrifice to grow at times, no matter how unpleasant.

Halsin: You made a hard choice, Wyll. But not one that is unknown in nature. At times, a seedling must strangle the very tree that bore it, if it is to survive.

The price of 7000

So, Halsin's not a big fan of sacrificing life, yet understands that sometimes, people need to die for others to thrive.

But what about 7000 lives? A whole village worth?

That level of sacrifice sounds an awful lot like the day his life was destroyed by Ketheric and the Shadow Curse. A horrible event that haunted his every thought and deed for the next 100 years.

Within this context, it makes sense that all of his responses during the Ascension, whether Astarion does it or not, are focused on the price being paid. He usually emphasizes the sheer number of people affected and never discusses Astarion's potential evil (more on that later) or the undead nature of those lives.

Halsin: Stay your hand, Astarion. To sacrifice so many is a tyrant's ambition.

Halsin: All those lives snuffed out, just to grasp some power. That was craven - unnatural.

Halsin: Astarion resisted the allure of Cazador's would-be powers - and I am glad of it. Whatever he would have gained would have come at a great price.

The interesting part about this is, as an Archdruid of Silvanus, those undead lives should be considered an abomination. The Oath of Ancients oath break if you free the spawn reminds us of this. So Halsin's advice to save the spawn is not necessarily druidic advice - it is a personal opinion wrapped in flimsy druidic justifications.

He even recognizes undead as unnatural when you enter Cazador's home:

Halsin: A lair of undeath - most unnatural. We must tread carefully.

Yet about the spawn, who are undead and an intimate part of that unnaturalness, he says this about releasing them:

Halsin: Good - they deserve a chance at life. Nature will handle their fates from here.

Mercy for all monsters?

This is interesting to compare to another encounter with a smaller version of an eerily similar choice in Act III. The mindflayer in the Windmill - a person turned into a monster, much like a spawn. Allow it to live, and it may devour a family. In that case, Halsin says:

Halsin: We allowed this unnatural thing to live - now a whole family's worth of blood is on our hands.

He joins a host of other Good companions who curse themselves for showing mercy where it wasn't warranted. These are largely the same companions who would also save the spawn.

Karlach: This is our fault. These people died because of us. What were we thinking?

Wyll: Justice does not entail granting mercy to monsters. We should not have let this abomination go free.

Gale: A cruel conclusion to the mercy we showed, but hardly an unpredictable one. As long as it lives, so will its appetite.

The contradictory perspective taken during these two storylines shows the importance of emotional context in how we make decisions. For most, their traveling companion, who also has a tadpole, is the first vampire spawn they've ever met, while mindflayers have generally been the big evil this entire time. This could lead them to feel as though a horde of spawn may have enough humanity to need a chance, while a newborn Mindflayer should be exterminated on sight. Also, most of the other Good companions are relatively young and idealistic, so it makes sense that some may make foolhardy, heroic decisions.

But this encounter also begs the question: if these heroes are so distraught by having the blood of one family on their hands due to a single hungry mindflayer they saved, how could they justify letting 7000 starving monsters with unquenchable bloodlust free? Are they simply kind-hearted and short-sighted? Or maybe they're only optimistic about the hunger of vampire spawn, despite having personal examples of both a spawn and a mindflayer who manage their hunger equally ethically - by feeding on enemies and criminals.

Their naivety is driven home by Jaheira not being moved by the mindflayer or the spawn due to her extensive life experience. She believes in both cases that the greater mercy is to kill the creatures now.

(About the spawn) Jaheira: And what of the living they'll feast on, should they not prove as admirable as Astarion? They deserve a chance, too.

(About mindflayer) Jaheira: Look well. Our stupidity. Our price to pay.

Halsin is even older. He's a devout druid. He recognizes undead as unnatural. By all accounts, he should be on the same page as Jaheira to preserve the Balance. Yet in the face of that, he still advises to give the spawn a chance to live free, likely wreaking havoc wherever they need to feed.

I like to think this strange blind spot in his doctrine is due to a combination of Astarion's presence humanizing the unknown spawn, therefore making their unlives worthy of protection, and his own history as a genocide survivor creating an emotional reaction strong enough to override his usual wisdom. The price of a village is simply too devastating and personal for him to condone. No matter what letting 7000 ravenous undead free may mean.

Making the price worth it

Once you've ascended Astarion, you may be surprised that Halsin - generally a good man - is now steadfastly on Astarion's side. His reactions to the Gur conflict highlight this. If you side with Astarion against them, he's not happy, but resolute.

Halsin: An unfortunate battle... but I must stand by those I count as allies.

And if you decide Astarion is evil now and side with the Gur, Halsin doesn't seem to care about what Astarion has become, only that you allowed the sacrifice to happen and then let it go to waste:

Halsin: We allowed Astarion to sacrifice so many, only to just turn on him soon after? We should have stopped him sooner.

In contrast, many other companions call Ascended Astarion a monster, evil, or maniacal if you turn on him. They believe killing him at that point was the only right answer.

Karlach: It's done. It had to be done. Astarion was... out of control. Gods dammit. Look, he was an evil leech, but he was ours. I thought he'd changed. I was wrong. I always am these days.

Minsc: Do not mourn Astarion. The Gur are known to be a just and righteous people among the Rashemaar. They named Astarion monster, and so monster he was. Yes, Boo - even if he sometimes seemed a friend.

Gale: That's one scourge eliminated. A vampire with that much power would be a death sentence for this city. A pity Astarion didn't understand that. Or rather, didn't care.

Lae'zel: Astarion proved himself no less maniacal than his master. His death was a favour - to him, to us, and to the city.

Wyll: Hunt the monsters of the Sword Coast, protect the people - that was my promise. Killing Astarion was the right thing to do. I have to believe that. But I'm not proud of it. Not after... all this.

Ignoring Astarion's evil and telling you that you shouldn't have betrayed him may seem odd for a character who usually has a strong moral compass. Especially since Halsin doesn't tell you that you shouldn't have betrayed Shadowheart if you choose that path, though he's wary of that decision since you're handing her over to Sharrans. However, if Halsin's focus is on the 7000 lives and not on Astarion's personal kindness or cruelty, it makes more sense.

The people are gone. There is no taking back all those lost. So he's left with the need to make their sacrifice something other than a meaningless slaughter. The power for his companion must be worth it.

Halsin on Evil Astarion

You may be thinking, "Okay, but even if it's all about the mass sacrifice mimicking his own horrific past, shouldn't he still care about Astarion being Evil? He doesn't like evil acts at all!"

That's mostly true. Halsin certainly hates Shar for personal reasons and can get upset when you do cruel things. However, he's also potentially had a bit of a soft spot for Astarion since Act I, when you can decide the vampire spawn is evil and kill him or kick him out of camp.

His lines for this are actually shared with Karlach, Wyll, and Jaheira, according to the data. The uniqueness is primarily in his distraught line delivery.

If you kill Astarion, Halsin admits that he liked the guy even though he was a killer:

Halsin: Rest in peace, Astarion. You may have been a blood-thirsty murderer, but I liked you all the same.

And if you send him away, Halsin says this about Astarion being alone in the woods:

Halsin: He's someone else's problem now, anyway. Woods are full of boars. Maybe he'll learn his lesson and start hunting something that won't miss him when he goes.

His camp reactions immediately after Ascension mirror this attitude of concern rather than condemnation of evil. If Halsin speaks directly to Astarion, he sounds exasperated (the way Halsin says his name always makes me snicker) while Halsin once again brings up the idea of the price being paid.

Halsin: Astarion... you have ascended amongst the ranks of the undead. I can only hope that you do not come to regret the price that you paid.

However, the almost identical line if he's talking to another player character is delivered differently, particularly in how he says Astarion's name. It's more concerned than judgmental, implying that his frustration with Astarion is coming from a place of worry rather than pure anger.

Halsin: Astarion... he has ascended amongst the ranks of the undead. I can only hope that he does not come to regret the price that he paid.

This is particularly notable because it's in contrast to Shadowheart, who has a very similar line after her evil choice, but the emotion behind both sounds more similar to my ear.

After that initial comment, Halsin can banter with Ascended Astarion about how he's turned the player into a vampire spawn if there's a player romance. Unlike most of the other companions who can comment, such as Wyll and Gale, he expresses worry for both of them, not just the player. He also explicitly explains he has no intention of kink-shaming them, just warns about how dangerous having a master/thrall relationship can be if made real.

Halsin: To give oneself wholly, and to have a lover totally in your thrall...? A harmless game, until it becomes real. I worry for the two of you, Astarion. For your sake, I hope some of it is just a fantasy, deep in your heart.

But perhaps the most blatantly accepting we see him of Ascended Astarion is if they go to the Drow twins together. There are always some playful lines with one another if they're both present, but one is unique to Ascension if the player bites Halsin as a spawn during the scene. Halsin's response is light and delighted, acknowledging Astarion's role as not just a vampire, but the lead in your new relationship.

Halsin: Ha - tickles. See what a bad influence you are, Astarion?

Combine with Halsin's direct propositioning of Astarion if Astarion teases him about his night with the player, and there's a case for long-held attraction as well, regardless of alignment.

Astarion: I hear things got wild between you two. I hope no one was too badly mauled. Halsin: We're all in one piece. Perhaps you'll join us next time. Astarion: It's bad enough having one person with fangs trying to keep control of themselves. Two of us could be dangerous.

All these lines, taken together during times when others label Astarion a monster, suggest that Halsin accepts Astarion as a whole. He doesn't believe in trying to change people's nature, so maybe he sees any distasteful deeds as part of Astarion's, the same as an owlbear cub eating its mother might disgust some though it is completely natural.

It makes sense, then, that Halsin might be proud of Astarion for choosing morality or personal growth, but he isn't too bothered if that doesn't happen either. What line Astarion would have to cross to earn Halsin's true ire is unknown. The reverse is a much more complicated question (mostly because it's plausible that many of Astarion's lines are rooted in deception) that I may delve into another time.

Is this whole relationship a little ironic given that Halsin is The Selfless Good Druid and Astarion is The Selfish Evil Undead? Absolutely. But that's the fun of it, in my opinion. It adds depth to these characters in ways that rarely shine through during a singular playthrough, especially since very few will do the crazy thing I did with an Ascended Astarion + Halsin romance.

It sure makes for narrative fun, though.

[thebearemoji]

Me talk about minthara now? Nnyes

Hhhhhhhhh I revert to a whiny little baby whenever I think about the fact that some portion of the bg3 player base will simply never encounter minthara in any capacity hhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I am aware minthara is believed to be "rushed content", and that accounts for many of her bugs. But I don't really care about why she's a mess, im more interested in talking about the result of that reality.

So I've finished 2 runs of bg3 so far, one in which I played a generally very good character and one in which I played a generally pretty evil character. After completing the latter run, I'm left with several qualms about what felt like a simply inferior experience to my first play through. The most frustrating being that Minthara, who became one of my favorite companions, is completely chained to the much less satisfying "evil content" with no way to see her story otherwise.

For context, minthara can only be recruited if the player helps the goblins attack the Grove in act 1. This alone is enough to stop plenty of players from ever seeing minthara beyond that single misleading conversation in the goblin camp. Some players don't enjoy role-playing being mean/evil, and attacking the Grove is unfortunately about as despicable as a game can get. For some reason, you can't tell the tieflings to leave despite the fact that they're only collateral damage in the attack on the druids. You gotta kill every druid, and every innocent refugee, or no minthara.

But the deck stacked against my beloved drow doesn't stop there, not only do you have to kill the tieflings along with all their associated content and side quests, in order to recruit minthara you have to forgo recruiting Wyll, Karlach, and Halsin because all 3 object to the attacking the Grove.

3 companions for 1, a frankly unpleasant task of slaughtering tieflings even for someone who enjoys role-playing evil characters, not to mention she's been plagued with bugs that cause her content to fail to trigger. All those things considered, why would anyone go out of their way to recruit minthara...?

Well... i just think she's neat.

After the first encounter with minthara in the goblin camp I was not necessarily looking forward to recruiting her. I assumed she was a murder hobo and nothing more based on first impressions, but at the very least I was looking forward to getting a third companion who wouldn't nag at me for every choice I was making. At the very least, she would be another character in my corner.

However, much to my shock, she turned out to be far more nuanced then she seemed at a glance. Because the person the player meets in the goblin camp isn't minthara, but rather a puppet of the absolute wearing her skin. She has little to no control over her actions, including the roll she plays in the attack on the grove.

I really struggle to wrap my head around this choice to tie her completely to the grove. Especially considering she's being mind controlled, but there's no way to know that. Minthara is a bait and switch, someone who (despite still being evil) is nowhere near as bad as the game inclines you to believe. But you can only discover this if you help her do something truly despicable. So there's a companion who's a better person then she seems, but you can only find out about her better side if you're evil. Why? Why can't a good tav save her? Why doesn't she get the same opportunity at redemption that laezhel, astarion and shadowheart get? I know the reason is probably time constraints, but I'm mad about it.

I really think she's worthy of a closer look, i love me some good lawful evil energy. Minthara is a good example, I believe. She takes no pleasure in killing or violence, but she will also eliminate anyone who remotely impedes her without hesitation. And she weaponizes grudges like her will is sharp enough to kill on its own. She's fierce, eloquent and cunning, and also managed to make me laugh out loud with how dead pan she can be (see her response to dribbles: "Say the word and I will kill the clown. We will be heralded as heroes." with a look of pure distress on her face).

She's a lolthsworn drow who is now exiled after falling under the influence of the absolute. The place she comes from is harsh and punishing, and yet she was a noble. She describes the beauty and majesty of menzobarenzan (sp) in the same breath that she discusses battle. I wish she would've gotten a flash back cutscene like shadowheart. Either her home or Ketheric betraying her.

Honestly I wish every character had gotten a flashback cutscene like shadowheart. It's a win/win of exploring the social aspect of the tadpoles by sharing memories and also adding a visual to the events the characters describe. But I digress.

Minthara's character trope may not appeal to everyone, she is still not a good person. But neither is astarion, and he's fandom favorite. Surely people wouldn't hold minthara's morality against her while also praising Astarion for some weird reason i cant put my finger on???? HaHA-

I wouldn't blame anyone who doesnt do an evil play through. The game didn't let me have fun with it, and playing games is about having fun. Why try to be evil and get nagged at by the game for 70 hours of gameplay when I can instead save everyone and enjoy myself?

So the reality is, Minthara may remain a cryptid for many players, riddled with bugs and cursed by the narrative to lose so that many other characters can win. But at the very least, I want to draw attention to one snippet of her dialogue. This is from a conversation after Orin is defeated.

I can't shake the idea that the minthara I know and love is trapped within the person you meet at the goblin camp. In a similar vein to gortash's mother in baldurs gate, trapped behind eyes she no longer controls. At the mercy of the tadpole and the whims of the brain and the 3. A helpless victim desperate to get her chance at vengeance at those who wronged her.

And that knowledge will haunt me every time I play a "good" character. I will know that even though my goal may be to save them all, there is one that I quite literally cannot save. Because the game won't let me. And God damn it, she's too interesting for that to be her legacy in this game. Minthara worries that no one will remember her, but I will think of this dialogue every time my journal flatly instructs me to "kill the goblin bosses".

[pearl484-blog]

My main issue with senti-monsters

Alright, so first of all, this is not an essay about the senti-Adrien, senti-Felix, senti-Kagami, senti-Chloe or any other senti-person theories. There are a lot of complex theories and debates and discussions about the ethics and moral implications around it. 

No. This is an essay about missed potential surrounding senti-monsters, which is probably one of the least relevant things you’ll need to hear about it. This isn’t about poor execution or predicting where the show will go. It’s not about someone who did something right (well, not completely), or anything like that. In fact, I am veering far away from most of the usual senti-monster topics. So, if you’re hear to discuss humans born of senti-monsters or anything like that, this is not for you. Sorry.  

Now, first of all, I have opinions about the name senti-monster. Now, it’s not what you think. I’m not one of those people about to advocate for using senti-being here. No. I’m here because I want to ask: “Where are all the monsters?”

My introduction to the Peacock was a black eyed woman ripping a monstrous butterfly made of grief painfully out of Hawk Moth against his will. This thing was huge, massive, and scary. It’s design was creative and clearly reflected that this thing belonged to Hawk Moth, and he didn’t have any say in its creation whatsoever. 

My next few introductions were promising. A lolipop monster made out of a need for processed sugar from a baby, and I read that very well, and a simple monster made from hunger which was nearly impossible to defeat, which yeah, giant frog that’s basically a moving mouth. I can get behind that. 

But unfortunately, we also had Senti-bug, and that kinda derailed things. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love Senti-bug, and the moral implications behind her and her destruction are beautiful, and it raised the sentiment of “Good God, the Peacock’s ability to create life and take it away in the snap of their fingers is horrifying”, but alas, it set us down the path of human monsters, which is most decidely not monster-like. 

See, what I thought was going to happen was that the senti-monsters would be representative of deeply buried emotions, the dark, forbidden secrets that you shamefully keep locked up and hidden away for no one to find, and that their creations would be a very unpleasant experience for their hosts. 

The design team has proven with it’s design ideas to be more than capable of being up to the task. The akumas especially are amazing design wise. Most of them have a unique silhouette, are recognizable at a glance, and you can tell important character traits with them. (Except Vanisher who does not have a distinct character design and doesn’t even have their own episode). There are some pretty obvious flops, yes, but even those often have a reason. Some of these akumas do not look good at all, but usually there’s a reason behind it. Ie, Aspik’s hood is concealing his hair, reflecting his need to hide himself and a visual reference to Hawk Moth, Reflekta’s design is almost painful, but memorable, and the Bubbler reflects his childnessness of both his worldview and his influence, blowing bubbles. 

However, it was clear that akumas were begining to stagnate. It was obviously getting harder and harder to come up with realistic reasons why a character might lose their cool, and the loads and loads of characters was starting to become worrisome if the series wanted to keep up the momentum and focus on the characters they already had. 

The obvious solution, I believed, was making the Peacock target deeply buried emotions, setting up a one-two punch. Either you could become an akuma, losing yourself to your flaws in a moment that you lose control, or you could bury your feelings until they became strong enough to become a senti-monster, a living embodiment of a feeling you never wanted revealed. This would start a catch-22, either you deal with your emotions in a healthy way and resolve them, hopefully in a way where neither of you lose your cool, or you avoid it and it turns on you. 

This would begin to force people to move things very quickly or suffer the consequences. Long simmering grudges you know are stupid and pointless get brought to the surface. Deep fears come alive. Secrets you keep hidden from everyone come alive. It could also affect the heroes too, without completely incapicatating them. For example, Adrien’s hidden resentments could come to life, or Marinette’s crush may decide to confess regardless of her say so. Even better, you could take inspiration from Fu’s montster and make the host have a strong emotional reaction to them. From panic to anger to fear to hopelessness. It’s rife with drama.

Now, originally, the Peacock was meant to be used for good, so how would it work if they were heroic? Well, the same way Shadows work in the Persona series. Yes, each character rejects their shadows, but when they accept their Shadows, they become allies. Yet, when rejected Shadows are a problem. It’d be a case of Bad Powers, Good People, where the Peacock’s abilities are dark and creepy, but could be used for good, not just for combat, but for self-growth, and it’d absolutely deserve the moniker senti-monster.  

This would let us see the heroes deal with talking people down in their own ways, each with their strengths and weaknesses. Queen Bee could cut straight to the heart of the matter and tell you what’s going on, no frills, but that might also hurt people and she might have to learn how to stop being callous but still use her skill at dissecting people and seeing their flaws. Ladybug may be kind and compassionate, with a lot of people looking up to her, but she might have a tendency to miss the point. Rena Rouge may be confident and have an internal strength that allows for no bullsh*t, but she can also be pushy. Carapace may be calm and non-judgemental, but might need to work on pushing people out of their comfort zone. Chat Noir would be great at this, being that he is very naturally empathetic, and tends to understand what people are dealing with quickly, but he’s also conflict avoidant, and would be screwed if it happened to him. 

Plus, I’d be able to see monstrous representations of problems and each character needing to accept terrible parts of themselves or be afraid of others learning about it. And I’d get to see fan material that leans into monsters and that creative side a bit more. Like debates over what Alix’s monster would be or represent, or fan art of Rose’s sick looking unicorn design. 

[krinndnz]

An Ad-Hoc, Informally-Specified, Bug-Ridden, Single-Subject Study Of Weight Loss Via Potassium Supplementation And Exercise Without Dieting

Here's the short version: I lost 30 pounds in 6 months by chugging a bunch of potassium salt and exercising a lot. My subjective experience is that cranking my potassium intake way up made it possible to do a lot more exercise than I had been doing without also eating a lot more. Exercising more without also eating more led to weight loss (as one would hope!). I did not diet: I ate as I had been doing and as it pleased me to do. Do with the raw data as you please.

Losing weight this way is unusual and worth paying attention to because many things about increases and decreases in weight and obesity are very poorly understood. Many people would like their personal weight and obesity levels to be different, so anything that improves our collective understanding of how to make that happen is valuable. However, losing weight this way is an experiment: it's not necessarily safe to do what I did! Part of why I did it was to find out what would happen, and if you have any kind of existing kidney problems then you definitely should not do what I did. Note to other transfemmes: if you're taking spiro, that counts as a kidney problem.

I also don't want to overstate the significance of this experiment: what I've been up to in the last 6 months amounts to a single data point that happens to also be 1,100 spreadsheet cells. It's a data point that is highly suggestive, sure, but it would be extremely ambitious to say that it proves anything beyond "this worked for me" and perhaps "it's not impossible for this to work". I am writing about it because as far as I know, this particular experiment is something that nobody else has tried, and, again, anything that improves our collective understanding here is valuable.

The long version comes next: how I came to be doing this experiment, what I did in the experiment, what I plan to do next, and finally what I think about it all. The really long version is the ongoing conversation that this post is part of, starting with A Chemical Hunger, which is a book-length literature review about the 1980s–present global increase in obesity prevalence, also the posts about single-subject research where the same authors discuss the limits of what can be learned from experiences like mine, also the Experimental Fat Loss guy and his wide variety of diet-only experiments, also some critics who disagree.

How I came to be doing this

At the tail end of 2022, I noticed both that my BMI had hit 30 and that I had become very unhappy about my weight. There's a specific photo where I didn't realize until I saw the photo that my belly was hanging out over my waistband and it's vividly unpleasant in my memory. Around the same time, I happened to find the potassium-supplementation community trial that the Slime Mold Time Mold folks were running. The value proposition was "this will be easy, cheap, and safe, but also it might not actually work," and that sounded good to me, so I signed up for it and took a modest amount of potassium all through December and January. It kinda-sorta worked: I lost 6 pounds. Not nothing, but "it kinda-sorta worked" is the most one can really say about losing 6 pounds in 60 days.

The low-dose potassium delivered on all of what the SMTM folks promised, though. It was easy, cheap, and safe. So I kept doing it and, since I was already doing the potassium, decided that I should get an exercise habit going. I am a big believer in the idea that it's a tremendous amount easier to go from doing Something to doing More Something than to go from doing Nothing to doing Something. The low-dose potassium got me through the first step: once I was doing Something about my weight, it was relatively easy to do More Something. When the community trial ended in early February, I didn't have to worry about messing up its results by departing from the trial's instructions, so I started taking more potassium and building my own experiment. I also kept in touch with the SMTM authors, who were very encouraging. 🐯💕

By late March I had brought myself up to daily amounts of potassium and exertion that seemed good to me, and I stuck with those. This is the first time in my life I've focused on trying to lose weight, and I was not fully prepared for how demoralizing it is that the weight change from day N to day N+1 sometimes seems perversely unrelated to what you were doing on day N. Fortunately I have experience with spreadsheets, so I put together a tracker for myself that focused on the trailing-week average of my daily weight and exercise measurements as well as long-term graphs. Three months of data were enough to put together a chart whose trendline said very, very clearly, "what you are doing is working — keep it up!" With any kind of long-term project it's very important to create and sustain sources of feedback. All else being equal, the longer it takes before you can get a read on "is this going well or poorly?", the worse it will go.

I decided that my goal would be to get my BMI from 30 (the lower limit of "obese") to under 25 (the upper limit of "normal"). Happily, the math is very easy there: for my height, a BMI of 25 rounds off to 200lbs. I further decided that I was willing to spend all of 2023 working on this. That decision is why I'm writing this post now: halfway through a project is a natural time to pause and take stock.

What I did

By the end of March, my regimen was firmly settled and I kept at it through the end of June without further tinkering. The daily goals I settled on were 10,000mg of potassium and 1,200kcal of exertion. That amount of exercise worked out to be 90 to 100 minutes per day. For contrast, in 2022 my average amount of exercise per day was 15 minutes and my average exertion was 500kcal.

I used my smartwatch's exertion number ("how many calories are you using above the amount you need to burn to be alive at all?") and gradually walked up my daily goal, settling at 1,200kcal/day partially because it was working and partially because one hour of watch face equaling 100kcal was helpful for being able to read "how close to my goal am I?" without thinking hard about it. Most of the exercise was treadmill time, usually a brisk walk or light jog. Over the months I also did some running, some bicycling, and some hiking, but treadmill time was the reliable, unremarkable, do-this-every-day core of my exercise regimen. It took a while to ramp up to that amount of exertion and there were definitely days when I stumbled, for good reasons and bad. However, in general I hit the exertion goal and in particular had it absolutely dialed from early March to mid-April.

It was easier to be totally rigorous about the potassium-intake goal — it helped that that part only took a few minutes per day, instead of 90+ minutes! I used potassium chloride powder (whatever came up first on an Amazon search since all KCl should be alike) mixed with regular Gatorade (i.e. not the sugar-free kind) to make it taste okay (I recommend blue Gatorade, it's the closest to appealing when kaliated — the yellow lemon-lime was meh and the fruit punch red was awful). I added two heaping teaspoons of KCl powder to a 20oz. bottle of Gatorade and drank that. KCl is about 52% potassium and a heaping teaspoon of it is about 6500mg, so I rounded up a smidge and called that 6600-and-a-bit milligrams of potassium per bottle. On Thursdays and Sundays I drank 2 full bottles and on other days 1.5 bottles. I recorded this as 10,000mg of potassium on regular days and 13,500mg on Thursdays and Sundays.

Is 10,000mg of potassium a lot? It's a lot more than average! The SMTM potassium trial post contextualizes it helpfully:

For a long time, the recommended daily value for adults (technically, the “Adequate Intake”) was 4,700 mg of potassium per day. But most people don’t get anywhere near this amount. In every CDC NHANES dataset from 1999 to 2018, median potassium intake hovers around 2,400 mg/day, and mean intake around 2,600 mg/day. In this report from 2004, the National Academy of Medicine found that “most American women … consume no more than half of the recommended amount of potassium, and men’s intake is only moderately higher.” Per this paper, only 0.3% of American women were getting the recommended amount. Similarly low levels of intake are also observed in Europe, Mexico, China, etc. But in 2019, the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine changed the recommended / adequate intake to 2,600 mg/day for women and 3,400 mg/day for men. They say that the change is “due, in part, to the expansion of the DRI model in which consideration of chronic disease risk reduction was separate from consideration of adequacy,” but we can’t help but wonder if they changed it because it was embarrassing to have less than 5% of the population getting the recommended amount. In any case, recommended potassium intake is something like 2,500 to 5,000 mg per day for adults, and many people don’t get enough. Potatoes are exceptionally high in potassium. A single potato contains somewhere between 600 and 1000 mg of potassium, depending on which source you look at. They are the 6th highest in potassium on this list of high-potassium foods from the NIH, and 9th on this old list from the USDA. If you do the math, this means that someone on the potato diet, eating 2,000 kcal of potatoes a day, gets at least 11,000 mg of potassium per day, more than twice the old recommended intake.

This explanation is most of why I decided to stabilize at about 10,000mg per day: because that's about how much potassium people were getting during the SMTM potato diet community trial. Because that community trial involved around 200 people, it was unlikely that there would be any truly heinous health effects from knocking back that much potassium, especially together with the anecdotal evidence that inspired the trial. Aiming for that amount also meant that it would be easier to compare my results to something that worked decently well and to ask questions like "is there something special about whole potatoes, or is it mostly the potassium?" If it's mostly the potassium, you'd expect my results to be closer to the full-potato-diet results than to the low-dose-potassium results — which is what happened.

I measured those results in a very basic way: ordinary bathroom scale, first thing in the morning, every day. Considering how much noise there is in weight measurement, there's just no advantage to measuring it more often. I kept the circumstances of the weigh-in simple and stable, trusting that that was good enough. I also measured exertion in two other forms — step count and exercise minutes — but that was mostly for my personal curiosity because both are basically downstream of exertion as such. Similarly, I tracked my sleep but didn't expect that to matter a whole lot.

While I was affirmatively not dieting, I want to make sure to talk about my food habits because I could be missing something that's easy for others to see as unusual but seems totally ordinary to me. My meals are heavy on pasta, rice, bread, and granola. I work diligently to get enough dietary fiber. I eat some meat but not a lot (eating a pound of meat in a week would be above average for me), and I enjoy coffee but not a tremendous amount of it since usually I make Chemex-style coffee and having a bunch of that in a day would be too time-intensive. My go-to snacks are cashews, pistachios, cherries, and granola bars. Like most people, I should eat more dark leafy greens than I do. I use a generous hand when measuring out olive oil. I believe that if you need either milk taste or milk fat, you shouldn't half-ass it, so when I need milk taste or milk fat, I rely on whole milk and heavy cream. Fats, generally, taste good. I eat more whole food and food I personally cook than I eat packaged and processed food, and I only infrequently eat restaurant food (weekly pizza night, maybe twice a month other than that). I really like sour candies but basically stopped eating them last autumn after some very patient coaxing from my dentist. Once in a while, dark chocolate, usually with the nuts and fruit.

I ate as I had been doing: I ate the food I felt like eating and ate as much of it as I felt like eating. If I felt like eating more or less, I did that. Since I wanted to keep the exercise habit going regardless of whether or not I lost weight, it was very important to me to not make the exercise any more difficult than it had to be. Going hungry would definitely make it more difficult, so I avoided doing that. One way in which I'm very sure my experience generalizes is, it's much easier to persuade people to try "add this supplement to what you're already eating" than to get them to try "replace all of your current food with potatoes," especially when talking about long-term or indefinite-duration changes.

What I plan to do next

I'll be thrilled if I can recapture something like the 7-week March/April streak I had going. Most days in this period (44 out of 49) were PB days (i.e. a day where my trailing-week-average weight was the lowest it had been since the start of the year) and no two consecutive days in this period were non-PB days (i.e. if a day wasn't a PB day, both the day before and the day after were PB days). I was losing almost 2lbs per week and exercising a lot and I felt great. However, my intuition is that that was the honeymoon period of going from mostly-sedentary to exercising regularly, and that I should expect further progress to be more difficult, to be like the less impressive results I got in May and June.

Still, the thing as a whole has definitely been successful enough that I'm going to keep at it until the end of the year, re-evaluating again in December (and maybe when I hit my weight-loss goal, which should happen around halfway between now and then). Since I'm using January 1st as my anchor date for the start of the experiment, it lines up nicely with the calendar if I just keep going all year and see what happens. Besides, I only need 6 months more to generate a year of data, while someone going from a cold start would need a whole year.

Given that I have a setup that is working pretty well, I'm reluctant to tinker with it. I might add one more high-potassium day in addition to Thursdays and Sundays, and I might start tracking some extra data — even though I'm not trying to change them, recording my food habits seems like the most helpful additional thing I could record.

If I develop health problems I'm gonna pull the ripcord (and post about it). There are already too many shitty fake weight loss regimens in the world that fuck up the health of people who try them, we do not need more.

What I think about it

Since I'm the one doing this experiment, I get to be excited about how it's working out for me personally, which is to say, very well indeed. Right now it seems pretty certain that I'll be able to reach my goal of losing ~50lbs in a long-term-sustainable way and just as importantly, getting myself to a much better baseline state of physical fitness. I feel pretty great about that part!

The experiment is not just for me, though: the reason it's an experiment rather than just "I'm trying to lose weight" is that I am keeping track of things carefully such that other people could carry out the same steps I did and get results similar to or different from mine and ideally everyone eventually comes to pretty firm conclusions about whether this — losing weight via potassium and exercise without dieting — works or not. My chugging potassium and Gatorade for six months to a year is the very beginning of that process, and I expect that the difficult parts of the process will be carried out by people with more expertise and resources than me.

I also expect that I have not tumbled to the One Weird Trick for weight loss that everyone else just overlooked. As someone with plenty of programming experience, I have a hearty suspicion towards "well, it worked on MY setup" stories. One obvious alternate explanation for my successful weight loss is "well yeah, you doubled your exertion and kept your food intake the same, of course you lost weight" — but I don't find that explanation satisfying. To start with, if it were that easy, people would do it more often. There are a tremendous number of people who would like to lose weight and a tremendous marketplace of devices, services, and professionals to help them use exercise for that purpose, and yet in a 20-year NCHS study, average exercise rose without obesity falling. It's also very, very easy to find fat people who exercise plenty — you will find them more or less anywhere you find lots of people exercising, as well as in places like sumo stables. A member of my family has taken up powerlifting in the last year, making him both fitter and heavier by quite a bit.

Additionally, there's studies like Keating 2017 concluding that short-term exercise intervention doesn't do enough to matter, or like the Wu 2009 work concluding that exerise-and-dieting isn't meaningfully better than just dieting over periods of 6+ months, and then there's the STRRIDE study, Slentz 2004, concluding that jogging 20 miles a week can get people to lose about 7 pounds over 8 months. The STRRIDE study caught my eye because it's pretty similar to what I did: they took obese mostly-sedentary folks, had them exercise more, and forbade them from eating less. However, once you do the math the results are much less similar: the average STRRIDE participant did around half the exercise I've done for at most a fifth of the weight loss (i.e. around 1lb/month vs. around 5lbs/month and around 3mi/day vs. 7mi/day). If someone else told me "Krinn, your naïve just-hit-the-treadmill exercise regimen is 2.5x as effective as an exercise regimen supervised & measured by professionals," I would want them to provide some compelling evidence for that.

If you tell someone you want to lose weight and would like their advice, it is overwhelmingly likely that the advice will involve exercising more. Everyone has heard this advice. And yet, as Michael Hobbes observes in a searing piece for Highline, "many 'failed' obesity interventions are successful eat-healthier-and-exercise-more interventions" that simply didn't result in weight loss. Even if we as a society choose to believe "more exercise always leads to weight loss, most people just fuck up at it," that immediately confronts us with the important question, why do they fuck up at it? and its equally urgent sibling, what can we learn from those who succeed at it to give a hand up to those who have not yet succeeded?

I find the SMTM authors' metaphor for this helpful:

[exercising more and eating less] is not an explanation any more than "the bullet" is a good explanation for "who killed the mayor?" Something about the potato diet lowered people's lipostat set point, which reduced their appetite, which yes made them eat fewer calories, which was part of what led them to lose weight. Yes, "fewer kcal/day" is somewhere in the causal chain. No, it is not an explanation.

Since I've been doing this for six months, I feel pretty certain that the potassium is doing something positive for me and I'm entirely willing to put in another six months to find out what happens for me. Finding out whether that generalizes is beyond my power: all I can do is explain what worked for me, one middle-aged Seattle housewife, and hope that it's useful to people who are in a position to do serious work about it.

One kind of serious work that's available is the very cool analytic techniques that other people in this conversation have used while looking at their data. If you are the kind of person to get elbows-deep in R or Matlab, feel free to grab my day-by-day measurements for that (I release this data under Creative Commons' CC0 if that's relevant to you). I'm not going to do that, though, partially because it's been a long time since I last used R but mostly because of the thing I said earlier about my whole experiment basically being one data point. If you have a data series, then yeah, get in there with some numeric interrogation, but if you only have one data point, that data point is what it is and statistical analysis can't really add to it. All I can claim here is that this is a new data point: people going about their everyday lives do not spontaneously increase their potassium intake severalfold and the background work from the SMTM potato diet and potassium community trials tell me that no-one's run a study looking directly at what happens if you do increase your potassium intake that much.

Do you want to increase your potassium intake that much? If you do, I have to re-emphasize the potassium community trial's safety warning: if you have existing kidney problems, do not try this. Also I'm gonna deploy the boldface again to make sure I get this across to other trans women: on this topic, taking spiro counts as a kidney problem! I am not a doctor and I'm extremely not your doctor, you should talk to your actual doctor if you have any kind of potential kidney issues and even if you're in good health and want to try chugging a bunch of potassium, you should titrate up gradually the way the SMTM writeup suggests (which is also the way I did).

In addition to a general spirit of responsibility, those warnings are important because otherwise just telling you that this is easy would sound like a recommendation. Did I mention that the experiment was easy? Easy easy. Piss easy. Lemon squeezy, etc. Of course building an exercise habit wasn't easy, but the potassium part didn't make it easier or harder, and the potassium part itself was pretty trivial. Mix this powder into Gatorade a couple times per day, drink it, done.

That said, if you do want to try this, godspeed and please write down how it goes for you. I recommend building positive reinforcement into whatever you use to track it; my personal spreadsheet for this is adorned with color-coding and happy emoji. I also recommend at least thinking about the following questions, whether you're going to do this, evaluate the results of this, or both.

How safe is it, in general rather than for me particularly, to chug this much potassium? This is the big one: "just mix potassium salt into Gatorade and drink it a few times a day" is so incredibly easy that even if the effect size is small, it could benefit a huge number of people, but of course it doesn't benefit them if it's not actually safe to do that.

Does this replicate? If it's not safe it matters a lot less whether it replicates, so the safety question comes first, but if it is safe, then one would immediately want to find out whether it works for 1% of people, 10% of people, or 50% of people.

How much do other mineral nutrients, particularly sodium and magnesium, matter for this? Maybe they need to be combined in some specific way, as this Twitter thread suggests.

Do sex hormone levels matter? I'm a trans woman and I've been having problems with access to HRT in this timeframe. Given how many things in one's body testosterone and estrogen affect, and given that previous obesity research has shown differences based on hormone profiles, that's definitely something to keep an eye on. Also because spironolactone in particular messes with renal function and potassium metabolism, I expect that it affects this. Digression: spironolactone is total bullshit as an anti-androgen of first resort. It sucks and I hate it and I should have switched to other anti-androgens even sooner than I did. If you're using spironolactone as an anti-androgen because it was the first thing your doctor tried for that, you really should try something else and see if that works.

I steadfastly avoided dieting. I like my existing diet just fine, and that's why I preferred the "what if I just chug a bunch of potassium" plan. All else being equal, I'd rather try things that let me eat what I like than things that require throwing my relationship with food into upheaval. But of course you wonder, what would happen if you did combine dieting and exercise and potassium? The ExFatLoss guy has been busy trying a lot of diet-only interventions and he's got a lot of interesting results. I am not the person to try it, but it's one of the obvious things to try, so I hope someone does try it.

How does this interact with the munchies? If you decide to try what I tried and you, like me, enjoy living somewhere where marijuana is legal, I think you should look at whether the potassium changes how you experience marijuana-induced hunger/overeating. One of the things I found very striking about the matter is that it was possible for me to chug enough potassium that the marijuana-induced hunger was drastically reduced. I expected the opposite since the potassium was causing me to eat less (relative to exertion) at other times. However, I have very strong habits about marijuana (exactly twice a week, edibles only, same amount every time) and I'm not willing to change them for this, so who knows how this aspect will work out for others. Definitely something to keep an eye on, though. Even if I wasn't losing weight, the potassium reduces marijuana-induced overeating enough that I'd probably keep going with it just for that effect.

Conclusion

I spent 6 months trying to lose weight with lots of potassium and exercise but without dieting. So far I have succeeded. Unless something disastrous comes up, I'm going to keep trying it for at least another 6 months and going to keep recording what I'm doing. I'm particularly curious to see where I'll plateau, since I assume at some point I'll start getting really hungry and/or tired instead of accidentally starving. I hope that my experience and the data I've recorded from it, are useful to people who are looking into questions about obesity and weight. Please feel free to use my data and my writeup (this post) for that. If you want to try doing as I've done, good luck and stay safe: this has worked for me but it is still experimental, it might be unsafe and/or fail to work for you.

[nonbinary-beast]

Thinking more about Automaton!AM, or maybe just AMtomaton, idk. Mainly with how computer hell changes when AM gets a body, given what the survivors deal with in there are reflections of how AM experiences things (or doesn't). Under a cut since this got long, and might fall a little into suggestive territory.

The first thing is that Ted is given his body back. Probably at first he does not know exactly why, and figures there is some horror AM has in mind that requires him to have a human body to experience it instead of being a jelly thing.

The "food" changes, slightly.

It is not worms and filth anymore, not this insult to sustenance that AM gives them because it knows that it is not real food and is merely a hologram, and so cannot truly poison its captives. In essence it insults them by not feeding them at all, while letting them believe it has given them food. Anyway, the food now has more to it than being purely unpleasant. Now that AM has a mouth and a means to taste, it decides that maybe, Ted can have something palatable for a change. Basic things at first, bread, water, a pile of herbs and seasonings.

Whatever AM feels like trying, Ted gets it too. At one point there is an entire half of a cow, roasting on a spit, waiting for him to take a bite. It satiates him.

Speaking of water, suddenly there is a lot of it. Ted is standing on the shore of a sea, the sand and air around him is blistering hot, but the air coming off the water feels cool, refreshing, inviting him to wade in and seek sanctuary from the heat. To his surprise he is allowed in, up to his ankles, his knees, his chest, he can submerge himself. It's refreshing. He does not drown.

"Never for me to plunge my hands into cool water on a hot day" no more. AM celebrates, but Ted has yet to catch on.

Later, for the first time in decades, Ted hears music as he wanders. Mozart played on a piano, its harmony draws him, but the source is always far off in the distance. No matter how far he walks, he can never reach it.

Then, his surroundings change. Tall grass licks at the bottoms of his palms, soft dirt cools his feet. He smells the green smells, the wet odor of the earth after a rainfall. There are birds, and flowers, and bumblebees. There is a sky above him, that's new. It holds all the reds and oranges and pinks of a fiery sunset.

There is no more music. Only the sounds of the birds and the bugs. Being satiated for once has allowed Ted to finally think. He knows he is not in a grassy plains, he knows the birds and bees are dead. He knows that the sky will never glow with the color of the sun's fire to mark the end of the day- all of it is dead. But why, he wonders, is AM allowing him to see it all? Then he hears something behind him, the subtle shift of the grass in the absence of the breeze.

There is something lurking there, in the place where the fading light cannot reach. He sees its eyes glittering through the dusk at him, between the long grasses. Several eyes, now that he gets a good look. The thing moves, and he catches how the sunset glistens over its skin- like liquid, living chrome.

He then realizes the thing in the grass is stalking towards him, slowly, deliberately. Despite knowing full damn well this is something AM has stuck down here with him, his heart hammers in his chest, fear sweat chills his skin and prickles his nostrils with its sharp odor. He knows what AM wants, AM wants him to panic and run, he won't run. God help him he would not run for that damn thing's amusement.

His legs shake, feeling like they will bolt without him or collapse entirely at a moment's notice.

Don't run.

It moves closer, close enough that Ted can see that its eyes constrict and dilate, and that the grass is hiding much more of it than he thought. It jumps up suddenly, and all at once everything Ted had given to stand his ground crumbles, and he takes off. He can hear the thing behind him, its footfalls heavy, shaking the ground under him as it gives chase.

It does not sound like an animal, Ted cannot hear the galloping pace of four feet hammering the ground. There's only two, pounding out a rhythm of doom as they quickly gain on him.

Ted's blood runs cold as he hears it laugh, and then calls his name in a voice all too familiar and yet strange at the same time. He recognizes the cadence, but not the tone. Then the ground and sky cartwheel around him as the thing catches him and they both are sent rolling over each other. Ted is pinned with his face in the dirt, the granules stinging his face as a great weight is firmly settled upon his back. It's almost too much, like someone had parked a truck on top of him. He can feel his ribs bend under the strain, his entire body screaming for the pressure to be removed. His surroundings have grown dark, and trying to breathe is suddenly the greatest effort he could ever muster.

Then he hears that voice again, and he finally places it as it gloats over him. This creature, it's AM. Not an representation of AM, but actually it, itself given a form. The computer now had an actual body. But, Ted had never heard it so cheerful, eager as it speaks to him- almost candidly about how it can feel water and taste food, and touch the long grasses and play the piano whenever it wished. But of course it still hated him, it still hated humans, it made sure to tell him that clearly. The machine went on long enough that Ted almost relaxed, almost thought that maybe this was another mind game- another long rant of berating him and all of mankind before running off back into itself.

Then he felt teeth tearing into the nape of his neck.

Or at least he could only assume they were teeth with how he was forced to see nothing but the ground. They felt more like razor blades, as they bit, and they twisted, and they sliced at him. He could feel his blood running down his skin, the pain was searing to the point where he could not find the strength to hold back his screams.

It felt like an eternity before AM grew tired of its latest torment, and let him up- of course it was too far for Ted to think of giving chase even if he wanted to, by the time he picked himself off the ground.

The wounds, thought they covered his back almost entirely in a criss-crossing pattern of angry red dashes- like he had been mauled by a machine punch of some sort, he noticed they were all shallow. AM had left him with only skin-deep wounds.

Those would always be what AM left him with, whenever he visited Ted in person.

AM would stalk him, it would wait for him in murky replicas of the Nile River. It would await him along the jagged cliffs of the mountains that it rendered for him to climb. Where before, the machine could only summon monsters to terrorize Ted, now AM could be the monster and hunt him down in person.

Sometimes AM would let Ted see it in full, to stare in awe and terror at the powerful form it had built for itself, to watch how it shimmered in the artificial sun. Other times AM wanted Ted to feel its form instead, pinning and pressing him into the ground until his joints popped and his bones creaked. It would personally maul him, to let him feel its teeth, its breath, its claws, the power in its limbs as it flung him around like the toy he was.

Regardless, the intent was clear. AM wanted Ted to know it had a physical presence, a body. Funny as it sounded, the machine was showing off.

[wistfulcynic]

not to pile more on that one alcoholic SMAU but since there’s disk horse loose at the moment i’m thinking again about the one thing that really bugs me about it (y’know, aside from the Racism). And i know i go on about this a lot, to the point where i don’t dare anymore for fear people will just roll their eyes and say Yes Saira We Are Aware You Are Old Would You For Once Just Shut The Fuck Up About It and my very valid point will be lost. 

but here’s the thing, and apologies in advance because this will be rambling. Here’s the thing about Accuracy In Fic Writing and why “canon-typical historical inaccuracy”, though we do love it so, can go only so far. 

first, because the 80s are not history. FFS. 

but mostly because there’s accuracy in terms of something that's possible and accuracy in terms of something that’s probable. And they are not the same. Douglas Adams, in The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul (still the best book title in history) took that Sherlock Holmes maxim of “when you have eliminated the impossible....” and turned it on its head in a way that has stuck for decades in mine. He said (Dirk Gently said) and i paraphrase, that when a thing happens that we think is impossible that just implies that there’s something, some fact, that we don’t know. Which is unsurprising when you consider the vast wealth of things that we as a species simply don’t know. But when a thing seems improbable that’s because it goes against something fundamentally human that we do know. It may be factually possible but our gut reaction is “yes, but that person just wouldn’t do that.” 

and this is why i cannot get past the faxing flirtation in That One SMAU. Yes, it’s a cute idea. i get why someone who’s had no direct experience with 1980s faxes would be drawn to it. But lads (gender neutral) the thing is. They Just Wouldn’t Do That. 

faxes in the 80s were LOUD. They were SLOW. It took like five minutes to send a single page. Five minutes of shrieking noise, and i do mean shrieking. And i just cannot believe that two neurodivergent-coded characters would have the spoons, the patience, the ability to tolerate deeply unpleasant stimuli, to sit around for hours playing tic-tac-toe via fax. It’s not impossible, not as such, it’s just very, very improbable. That improbability shrieks in my mind like a fucking incoming fax and won’t be handwaved away. 

this is where the accuracy in terms of what’s probable in fic comes into play. You might think that this sort of thing hardly matters in a fic about characters from a show where they read Pinocchio 100 years before it was written and 18th century pirates dress like Mad Max, but the thing about the show’s anachronisms is that they are all pointedly deliberate. They say something about the characters. Of course Stede likes a story about a puppet who becomes a real boy, he’s in the midst of his own identity crisis. Ed’s leather outfit tells us so much about who he is, the armour he wears, and provides a sharp contrast to both Stede and who Ed becomes when he’s being the truest version of himself. These aren't mistakes made because the writers couldn’t be arsed to research or because they don’t understand the implications of what they’re writing, entirely the opposite. Which is why if someone writes a fic in which Frenchie invents Ye Olde Spotify Playlist or Lucius calls someone a DILF then, babes, i am right there with you. More of that please. 

because those things are both fully in character and, within the universe established by the show, entirely probable. They are believable. They fit the fundamentally human things we already know about these characters and this universe. They are factually impossible for 1717 but that doesn’t matter a bit. That is what canon-typical historical inaccuracy gives us. 

it does not give us two kids in the 80s playing with fax machines like they’re toys, or the chat in a dating app. Sorry, but it just doesn’t. It may not be impossible per se, just so fundamentally improbable that it’s still shrieking in my head even months later. 

and i know this nudges at the precipice of an even larger Disk Horse, the one about characterisation in fic writing and how much OOC is okay and how much is Too Much, but i guess this is where i fall down on that debate too. i’m okay with my characters doing something that is impossible. What i’m not okay with is them doing what, for them, is improbable. If i ever hit a point in reading where i say aloud “but they just wouldn’t do that,” well. That’s where i’m noping out. 

[thepaintedlady00]

The Sandman and The Girl Without Dreams

Chapter One: The Man in the Glass Cage

I'd never dreamed. Not truly - not in the sense that everyone else seemed to. When I slept I was cocooned in darkness, neither too hot nor too cold, neither wet nor dry, it simply was. It wasn't unpleasant at least not for a while, not compared to the constant noise and demands of reality, but it always felt hollow like something was missing.

"Dreams are for the lower class," my father had always stated if I'd ever dared ask.

My mother however soft spoken she was would assure me that everyone had dreams and that I just needed to find mine. "The Sandman never forgets a dreamer. You'll find them, just you wait."

The Sandman as it turned out was, on the off chance he was real, a forgetful ass. Years had passed and still the empty darkness was all I had to cling to. And after so long in that dark cocoon I stopped wishing for dreams and instead wished for an end to the nightmare of waking.

My family was one of class and sophistication, which in turn meant I was expected to uphold that reputation. We Barlows have our enterprise, and an enterprise leashed to a poor family name is doomed from the start! Ridged and unmoving, my father exlected nothing short of perfection and callosness. The minor issue with that was I had absolutely no interest in playing the quiet and loathing role assigned to me at birth. I wanted to see things, meet people, experience all that life had to offer. Perhaps it was my kind nature that led down the path or perhaps it was something more... Something far beyond my understanding. Whatever it was had brought me here, standing among the crowd of the Burgess estate trying to ignore the odd sensation office impeding dread that filled me when I looked up at the mansion.

It had become quite the hotspot for those seeking a good party, as well as those curious about Roderick Burgess' mystic cult. I was here for neither. My father had been a friend to Roderick for years and though he wasn't as boastful about it, practiced the same cultist bullshit that he did. The two had a falling out of some kind when Alex, Roderick's youngest son, and I were children, which led to the current stalemate between them. But, in spite of their bad blood Alex and I remained close. I often snuck out and found my way to the woods just outside the mansion, where Alex and I would read and play games together.

It was Alex that brought me to the large party. In our recent conversations he seemed reserved, like there was something bugging him that he could just never get out. So, I asked him if he wanted company at his fathers latest gathering and he'd said yes. And, ever the good friend, here I was dressed in a simple, comfortable gown trying to find the boy among the large unruly crowd.

I was finally able to spot Alex hiding in the doorway, so I'd hopped past everyone and startled him with a light tug on his ear. He of course rolled his eyes and ushered me through the door, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. "Penelope! Its about time you showed up! I thought you'd abandon me to be eaten by these people!"

"Such a dramatic!" I teased. "If I left you with this lot I'd be a truly terrible friend."

With a wide boyish smile he waved his families butler off and nudged my shoulder. "Go have fun for a bit, my father has me holding the door to keep the uninvited out. Something about responsibility."

I hummed softly. "You are rather irresponsible."

"Says you," he retorted judging my shoulder.

"Don't be too long, responsible Alex, or I'll be the one that becomes the meal."

As soon as we parted ways I gravitated toward the least crowded part of the room, a long hallway off to the side of the main space close to a door that always had two guards standing in front of it. I'd asked about it once, back before our fathers parted ways, but after getting a rough dismissal from Alex decided it best not to bring up again. In all the years that had passed I'd always been tempted to ask again, but never did in fear of causing Alex more stress than his father already did.

I watched the party goers dance, drink and drug themselves into a stupor, pretending to be happy. All just one large facade, I thought to myself. Growing up among this kind of crowd I had quite the knack for seeing through ones outward expressions. I'd gotten so good Alex and I made a game of it at the rare occasion we both attended events such as these.

"How are you so good at this?" he'd ask.

I'd shrug. "If I could teach you my ways, young Alex I would, but alas it appears there can only be one of us destined for greatness."

When Alex finally came in from outside he had seemingly forgotten about me as he led a fair haired woman through the crowd and towards the office where his father always was during his parties. It didn't take a genius to know what the woman's intentions were. There had been plenty like her and would be plenty after her, but it saddened me, seeing the lengths Alex would go to earn his fathers approval, something I'd long figure out was not possible. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he did or accomplished Alex would never be his brother, never the child his father wanted him to be.

I was seconds away from leaving my little corner to catch up to him, seconds away from possibly avoiding the torment whatever powers that were had waiting for me on this path. But, when one of the older, more prestigious guests fell to the ground and started convulsing, likely from too much of whatever drug they'd been passing around, the two guards beside the door fled their post calling out for more help, which brought two more men clamoring up the basement stairs to aid them. Leaving the door wide open.

My curiosity was a powerful beast, but the odd sensation that curled within my chest as I looked at the forbidden door was even more so. It felt like I'd entered a daze... One that felt like what I always imagined dreaming would feel like, as my legs carried me through the door and down the dark steps. The basement was damp and dark, smelling like moss and old cigars with little light that was dim compared to that of the large glowing glass sphere that hung in the center of the large space. The feeling in my chest amplified, no longer a small curl but now a harsh pull that carried me closer and closer to the glass where a pair of dark, star filled eyes watched me. The horrified disgust that filled me at the sight of a man trapped behind the glass in my best friends basement was fleeting as I was quickly consumed with the man himself.

To say he was beautiful would have been a gross understatement. He was otherworldly, ethereal, I had never seen anyone like him. His raven hair contrasted against the paleness of his lithe figure as he sat ridgedly within the center of the cage, not a single piece of clothing on him or anywhere in sight. He watched me with a stoic expression, if one could even call it that, on his angular face. But, his eyes betrayed him, filled with a confusion that matched my own.

"What..." My voice was little more than a whisper as I inched closer to the glass. "What the hell?"

He said nothing and made no move to plead for my help, he simply sat, watching me warily. The pull became nearly unbearable the longer I looked into his eyes. Lifting my hand toward the glass the man seemed to mirror the gesture. The cold glass met the tips of my fingers as I flattened my hand against it. His hand slid into place beneath mine and for a moment the pull stopped and air filled my lungs as a false sense of relief filled me. That relief didnt last long.

Pain exploded across my palm, burning hotter or maybe colder than anything I'd ever felt, pulsing all the way from my hand to my shoulder. It felt as if a knife was carving and flaying my skin from my bone. My head swam with images and voices that I didn't recognize and a raw ache filled my throat. It took me a minute to realize the ache was a result of the screaming I'd been doing. The room filled with people shouting and trying to pull me away from the glass, but my hand stayed locked in place.

A voice thundered over all the others, speaking words I couldn't understand. A force pushed me and everyone behind me away from the glass and onto the cold, wet ground. My ears rang as my vision cleared enough for me to see Alex hunched over me, holding on tight as I shook. He looked at my arm and his brows furrowed, looking up at the man in the glass and in a distant voice demanded, "What did you do to her?!"

No answer. He didn't even look at Alex, his eyes instead stayed fixed on me. Still shaking I lifted my arm, eyes raking over the raised skin that formed an odd symbol on the inside of my wrist. A strangled cry bubbled up from my chest a noise that I could have sworn made the mans jaw tighten.

"What is the meaning of this?" Roderick yelled, shoving past his guards. His eyes examined the cage first before they turned to me. With no warning he snatched my arm up to look at the mark, earning another bout of burning and in turn another scream from my already dry throat. The man in the cage stood, dark eyes boring into Roderick, who in turn met his gaze with a smile.

He let go of my arm abruptly, sending me back into Alexs waiting arms. Moving with a confident stride he stood in front of the glass. "Send everyone home."

"Father she needs medical attention." Alex's voice sounded desperate.

"She'll live. Now get upstairs and send our guests home." Roderick replied coldly. Hesitantly Alex rose to his feet, bending to lift me up before his fathers cane slapped his arm. "Leave her!"

"But father..."

"I said, leave her."

My eyes pleaded with my friends as I tried to hold on to him tighter. "Alex..."

Still he pulled away with a mumbled apology as he disappeared up the stairs. The noise began to blur into echoes of unintelligible words as I started to fade in and out of consciousness. A cold, bitting sensation encompassed my uninjured wrist, draping a weight across me as I curled up into myself, desperate for warmth. The last thing I could make out was the blurred image of the man in the glass cage watching me with glistening silver in his eyes before the all too familiar darkness took me.

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 9 - Eye to Eye [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Late night visits can be unpleasant.

Series Masterlist

Here’s something they didn’t tell you during your spy training;

The world’s deadliest assassin made a cute boyfriend.

For the last couple of days, he had been the perfect gentleman but aside from him dropping by the milkshake shop once, you could barely see him. The spy in you kept urging you to ask him where he was just in case it was an important information you could put on your latest report, but somehow you thought it would maybe be pushing him too much.

You looked over your shoulder to take a look at your surroundings and make sure you weren’t being followed by anyone, still holding the phone to your ear.

“You have nothing to worry about,” you assured Bucky, “I don’t mind, we can meet another time.”

“I’m really sorry darling.”

You tried to ignore the smile pulling at your lips at the term of endearment. “Bucky, I told you. I’m not going anywhere, we have all the time in the world. Well, all the time except for tonight.”

“It came up at the last minute.”

“Mm hm, you mentioned that,” you sat down on the bench, looking up at the tall building, “But I don’t know, it sounds a little like you have another date. A hot date.”

“I mean, if you’d call Sam a hot date—“

“Oh I’d definitely call Sam a hot date,” you taunted him, making him chuckle “Have you met him? He’s dreamy and I bet he wouldn’t change date plans at the last minute, just saying.”

“Hey, come on now.”

“But as it happens, I’m sort of already seeing this brooding guy who likes to be secretive, a lot.”

“I’m not brooding.”

“You frowned at a milkshake once, Bucky.”

“The milkshake had it coming,” he pointed out, “So, seeing huh? That’s what people call it nowadays?”

“What did you guys call it back in your day?”

“Going steady.”

“I like that term better I think,” you said, drumming your fingers on your knee before fixing your skirt, “All jokes aside I get it, really. Just promise me you’ll be safe.”  

“I’ll try.” You could almost see his tentative smile and you narrowed your eyes.

“That doesn’t sound like a promise.”

“How about I visit you at the shop today?” he changed the topic, “Before we leave?”

You checked your wristwatch, “When?”

“In two hours?”

“Oh that works!” you said, “My shift starts in the afternoon, I’ll be there. And I will bug you until you promise me you’ll be safe, just warning you beforehand.”

“Can’t wait,” he said, “See you in two hours.”

“See you,” you hung up, then fixed your expression and raised your chin as you walked through the security. After swiping your card to get in the elevator, you swiped it once more to be able to push the button down to the headquarters.

After you walked out of the elevator, you had to go through the retinal scan to open the last door and stepped into the headquarters, the usual rush greeting you. People were either focused on their computers, or walking around with files or talking to one another. You looked around and slowly descended the stairs to hop on Chloe’s desk, taking her by surprise. She gasped, taking off her headphones.

“Hey, when did you get here?”

“Just now.”

“You look pretty formal.”

You looked down at your pencil skirt and white blouse, then your high heels. “Yeah I mean, I have to report to the General, I can’t just show up in that weird pin up uniform. I wouldn’t hear the end of it from others.”

“Right. Because every single agent here needs to be intimidated by you.”

“Not a necessity, but surely doesn’t hurt.” You wiggled your brows, “Is Keith around?”

“He’s on his way, asked me if I wanted coffee.”

You tilted your head, “Huh. He’s bringing you coffee?”

“Oh he’s just being nice,” she said, smiling at you brightly “Anyways, tell me everything. I haven’t seen you in days, how’s it going with Barnes?”

“Why, what have you heard?”

She scoffed, “Nothing you paranoid. Why, should I have heard something?”

“No,” you said in a haste, “Not at all, just curious.”

“So how’s it going with him?”

“It’s going fine,” you muttered, “We’re going steady.”

“What does that mean?”

You shifted your weight and crossed your legs, “We’re da—ehm,” you cleared your throat, the word feeling way too strange to even you, “Dating?”

She let out a squeal and you shushed her, looking around. “Chloe—“

“You’re actually dating! Like romantically. Dating dating.”

“As a cover, yes.”

“How was the kiss? Tell me everything about the kiss!”

“Chloe, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me you remember that this is a fake relationship.”

She rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t make it less romantic.”

“Yes it does. It definitely does.”

“The kiss?” she insisted, “Did he do something….old timey?”

“During the kiss?” you felt the need to ask, “Chloe, people have been kissing each other for centuries, what exactly do you think was different in the 1940s?”

She opened her mouth to retort but then her eyes found something over your shoulder and someone placed a coffee cup in front of her. You turned your head to see Keith sipping his own coffee.

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” you greeted him, “Where’s my coffee?”

“There’s a coffee machine in the hallway.”

“But that’s not artisanal.”

“Sucks to be you.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head, “You’re such a—”

“Y/N, he’s ready to see you.” General’s assistant approached you and you pushed yourself off the table.

“Wish me luck,” you said and followed her to General’s office. She motioned at you to go in and closed the door behind her when you did, leaving you alone with him.

General was looking out of the window with his hands in his pockets but turned around when you walked in.

“Shrike.”

“Hello General.”

“I went over your report last night,” he said, not beating around the bush, “Can we say that your relationship actually started then?”

“I think so, yes.”

“You think so,” he repeated and you pushed your hair behind your ear.

“I’m sure, sir.”

“Your report did not exactly provide us with any information on him,” he stated, “Or his actions lately. What is he doing, where is he going….with Captain America?”

“General, we have to keep in mind that this is Bucky Barnes,” you said, “Me actually getting close to him will be much slower than any other target. He doesn’t trust anyone—“

“You got information from drug lords and mob bosses, Y/N. They’re not exactly the trusting type.”

“That’s right, but none of those had over 80 years of spy experience.”

“He wasn’t a spy, he was an assassin.”

“An alone assassin,” you insisted, “I don’t put this lightly, he trusts maybe….I don’t know, three people in the entire world. You trusted me with this mission, just let me do it my way. By the time—“ you tried to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth, “By the time we’re ready to bring him in, I will have earned his trust and bring you the information in the meantime.”

He clicked his tongue,

“He didn’t come upstairs with you?”

“I’m sorry?”

“When your date was over, this…second date. He didn’t come upstairs with you?”

Translation: Why didn’t you sleep with him?

“He’s old-fashioned,” you managed to say, “I decided any further step would affect the mission badly.”

He nodded slowly and took his seat while you shifted your weight from one foot to another.

“Some of your superiors and I decided it’d be better to have some changes in your team,” he said and you looked up.

“Keith and Chloe—“

“They will not be replaced, don’t worry,” he said, “We’re just making some additions, that’s all. You will be informed about them soon, you can leave.”

You tried to smile and walked out of the office to close the door behind you. Gritting your teeth, you made your way to Chloe and Keith who were joking around.

“Hey, how did it go?”

“About as expected.”

“He’s in a bad mood, he and my mother had this fight last night,” Chloe said, “Don’t take it personally.”

“Do you know who they’re adding into my team?” you asked and Keith raised his brows.

“They’re adding someone?”

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t heard,” Chloe said, “I’ll snoop around his files when I can. Let’s hope whoever they are, they’re nice.”

You scoffed as you grabbed Keith’s coffee to take a sip.

“You’re talking about a spy, Chloe,” you said, “None of us is ever nice.”

                                      ***

Needless to say, your bad mood was there to stay for the whole day. Even after getting to the milkshake shop, you still couldn’t shake off that discomfort.

You were doing the right thing. It was just a mission, you had done it numerous times and listening to your intuition had never failed you.

No matter what your superiors thought.

You were so lost in your own head that you didn’t even notice the wind bells by the door chiming. You were doodling on a napkin while chewing on the straw of your milkshake, ignoring the clutter of mason jars Tara was currently putting on the shelves.  

“Hi beautiful.”

Your head shot up and your eyes caught the sight of Bucky standing across from you on the other side of the counter. A smile you couldn’t stop pulled at your lips without you having to force it and you let out a breath.

“Bucky!” you exclaimed and went under the counter to throw yourself into his arms. He wrapped his arm around your waist to lift you up, then brushed his lips against yours.

“It slipped my mind—“ you stopped yourself and shook your head as he put you down, “Hi.”

“Hi back.”

You stood on your tiptoes and pecked him on the lips again. Somehow, having him there made your day feel not as terrible as it had been so far, probably because your cover had a much simpler life.

That was it. No other reason.

“I’m pretty sure health regulations do not approve of this,” Tara’s voice pulled you apart and you let out a giggle.

“Sorry about that ma’am,” Bucky said and Tara grinned.

“Ma’am, huh?” she asked, “You, I like you. You have any friends who are as nice as you, lover boy?”

“I think they’d be too old for you,” he stated, making you raise your brows. Tara looked between you two.

“Is he a vampire?” she asked you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Still trying to figure that one out myself,” you said “Is it okay if I step outside for a moment?”

“You mean in this crowd?” Tara asked, motioning at the completely empty shop, “Knock yourself out.”

You tugged at Bucky’s hand to lead him out of the shop and he followed you without any protests.

“Sorry, I was going to lose my mind if I stayed there any longer.”

“Slow day?”

I wish.

“Just a bad day,” you murmured, leaning your back to the wall, “How about you? When are you leaving for this… highly dangerous mission of yours?”

“I never said it was highly dangerous,” he taunted you and you arched a brow.

“Right,” you said, “Then it’s just a little dangerous?”

“Just a little,” he nodded, “Yeah. A little maiming here and there—“

“Bucky!”

“I’m joking,” he said with a chuckle, “I promise you I’ll be safe and try to keep Sam safe. Happy?”

“Extremely, can’t you tell?” you deadpanned and scrunched up your nose, “Gosh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be all pushy, I just—”

“No no, you’re not,” he assured you, that familiar soft light appearing in his blue eyes again, “It’s the opposite actually.”

“The opposite?”

“It’s nice to…” He thought for a moment, “It’s nice to have someone who cares.”

The unsaid about me  hung in the air and you felt it tugging at your heartstrings before you took a deep breath.

Focus on the mission.

“When are you leaving?”

“In a couple of minutes, I told Sam I’d meet him here.”

“Shoot, that soon huh?” you murmured, “Okay, can you maybe just… Um- I don’t—I don’t need to know where you’re going, but can you please text me something when you get there? Even if it’s just a letter or something. So that I can know you’re there.”

“We’ll probably get there in the middle of the night, is that okay?”

Middle of the night.

They were leaving the city.

You made a mental note to include it in your report and nodded fervently, “Yeah, totally!”

“So what will you be doing tonight?”

“Me?” you asked, “Oh nothing much, I was actually thinking I could meet some friends from soup kitchen. We were talking about it the other day, and it’s been almost two months since I moved here. I need to start making friends.”

“And will you be safe?”

You tilted your head, looking up at him mischievously, “If I say no, will you still go?” you taunted him, “I mean I might get mugged again. It’s a dangerous city.”

“Not funny, and I thought you said no more dark alleys.”

“But Bucky, that’s how we met!” you insisted, making him furrow his brows, “It was fate!”

“It was a prick with a gun.”

“You should really put more faith in the universe,” you said “It might surprise you one of these days. Who knows? You might even be happy.”

A soft light crossed his blue eyes and he reached out to push your hair behind your ear.

“Where on earth did you come from?” he breathed out as if he was hypnotized and you scrunched up your nose, trying to keep your head in the game.

“Oregon,” you grinned and closed your eyes as he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss but as soon as he did, someone cleared their throat quite loudly. You pulled back and looked around his arm to see Sam who seemed like he would rather be anywhere but there.

“Barnes, release the poor girl.”  

“Hi Sam!” you waved at him and he smiled slightly.

“Hi Y/N.” he said, “Staying away from wasps?”

You covered your face with your hands, “Gosh, I never should’ve told you that.”

“What wasps?” Bucky looked between you too and you shook your head.

“Long story,” you said, “You two will be okay?”

Bucky took the duffel bag from Sam, “Yeah, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

Your jaw dropped, a gasp escaping from you and Sam pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you kidding me dude?”

“Why would you say something like that?!”

“What?”

“Haven’t you seen any movies?” you asked, “You never say that, ever!”

“What did I say?”

Sam threw his head back, “I’m two seconds away from going on this mission by myself.”

“What did I say?” Bucky asked again and you heaved a dramatic sigh.

“Stay here, both of you.” You pointed at them, then rushed into the shop to grab two plastic cups. You filled them with chocolate milkshake, then put the lids on, placed a straw in each and went outside again.

“Here, for the road.”

Sam grinned as he took his cup “I like her better than I like you, Buck.”

“Don’t call me—“ Bucky stopped himself and took his cup from you, “Thanks darling.”

“No problem,” you said, “Be careful, will you?”

“Sure thing,” he pressed a kiss on top of your head and shouldered the duffel bag, “Let’s go.”

“See you Y/N!”

“See you!” you said and leaned back to the wall as they walked away from you. You nibbled on your lip, crossing your arms.

Out of the city.

Well, at least you knew what to put on your report the next time General requested it.

                                      ***

All things considered, the mission was going well.

Just a little too well.

You flipped your phone in your hand, checking the screen for what felt like a hundredth time before turning your gaze to the TV screen. The character let out a scream and started rushing upstairs as the axe killer burst through the front door, making you shake your head.

“Sure, just go and lock yourself in the bathroom, that’s gotta help….” You mumbled, “Who the fuck is writing these?”

You grabbed your phone again to check the screen once more, then shook your head at yourself, tossing it on the couch.

“Don’t be Marco….” You muttered, “Don’t be fucking Marco, Marco ended up dead.”

“Who are you talking to?”

You jumped out of your skin and grabbed the fruit knife lying on the plate beside you to throw it at the figure but he was way too trained for it. He ducked as you jumped on your feet, then pressed a hand on your chest.

“Keith what the fuck?!”

“You got the phone number of that Chinese place around the corner?” he asked as he picked the knife off the floor to put it on the table “I can’t remember the name and I’m craving noodles.”

“How long have you been here—how the fuck did you get inside?”

“Window. Do you want noodles?”

“I could’ve killed you!”

“Oh get over yourself. Noodles?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yeah I could eat,” you said and found the number on your phone before tossing the phone to him, “There.”

“Thanks,” he said and took the phone to his ear, then ordered you noodles while you tried to calm down and sat down on the couch. He came to sit beside you.

“Your flowers look dead,” he pointed at the bouquet Bucky had given you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Maybe I like them dead.”

“Okay, Morticia Addams,” he murmured, “What are we watching?”

“Scream.”

“Great, classic.” He put his feet up on the coffee table and you slipped a little on the couch.

“Keith?”

“Hm?”

“Do you ever wonder what got into Marco to put his life in danger?”

“Well poor bastard was in love,” he said, “Love makes you do stupid shit. Why?”

“But he was a trained agent, we’re not supposed to fall in love.”

“Maybe the target was too good in bed,” he wiggled his brows, “Don’t underestimate how good sex can make you feel like you’re in love.”

“That ever happened to you?”

“You know the true owner of my heart,” he joked and you narrowed your eyes.

“Funny you should mention that because—“ you started but then the doorbell rang. You frowned.

“Their service can’t be that fast, can it?”

“It’s literally right around the corner,” Keith said as you grabbed your gun to tuck it into the waist of your shorts and covered it with your shirt.

“Easy terminator, don’t forget to tip the delivery.”

“I’m an assassin, not a savage,” you said and walked to the door, snatching your wallet off the coffee table. You opened the door but as soon as you recognized the figure standing on your doorstep, you dropped the wallet and pulled your gun to point it at him.

“Hi Julian.”

He had the audacity to smile as he eyed the gun in your hand, then clicked his tongue.

“Hi Y/N,” he said, “Do you greet all your ex boyfriends like this, or am I just special?”

Chapter 10

[shorkbrian]

Guided

Okay I’m posting on mobile so bear with me

Was gonna do a thanksgiving feeder fic but I’m tired lol

So instead like imagine Kuroo helping Kenma lose his virginity 😳

(Warnings - NSFW! Rape, obvious denial (by Kenma, he knows it’s bad), Kuroo bein a creep, Kenma being a creep. Just general not good vibes)

Like Kenma isn’t exactly anti-social, it’s just he’s a lil shy and prefers to stay in his comfort zone, which involves gaming and little else.

One day the team will not stop bugging leetle Virgin Kenma about getting a girlfriend (“online girlfriends don’t count!”), and he gets a bit self conscious.

Goes to Kuroo, his best friend, his bro, his homie, asks Kuroo what’s the process - how does he get a girlfriend and lose his virginity?

Kuroo is almost taken aback at first, simply cause he assumed Kenma was either gay or just plain not into dating. But after he gets over his shock, he’s so pumped to show his bro the ropes.

Kenna’s expecting like, a talk, or maybe Kuroo will give him tips about how to pick up cute girls, or something like that.

What he was not expecting, was you.

Sitting on the edge of Kuroo’s bed, sniffling, hands balled into fists on top of your skirt.

And Kuroo’s so excited, quickly ushering Kenma into his room to proudly show off his cute little neighbor. You don’t seem happy, but Kuroo ignores that, so Kenma does too.

There’d be no buildup. Just Kuroo pushing Kenma towards you, before taking a seat in his desk chair.

“Go ahead and touch her.” He prompts.

Kenma hesitates, looking at Kuroo with knitted brows.

“Do you not know how?”

Kenma shrugs. He stands in front of you, raises a hand to your shoulder. You flinch when he touches your shirt, when the weight of his hand rests against you. He plays with a piece of your hair, looking at your face, your body, the cute way you’re trembling and shaking like a scared little kid.

“I’ll talk you through it.” Kuroo offers. He’s clearly impatient, but in an excited way, foot tapping against the ground as he leans forward.

Kenma’s glad Kuroo will be giving instructions. He feels a bit awkward like this, and he doesn’t want you to laugh at him.

“You’re sure she’s fine?” Kenma checks. You look scared and you’re crying a bit, which is kinda hot, but Kenma doesn’t want you telling people he assaulted you or something.

“Yeah, she’ll be alright. We had a little chat before you came over - she’s good with this.”

The way you glare at Kuroo through your tears confirms to Kenma that you probably aren’t as okay with this as Kuroo makes it seem. But Kenma kind of doesn’t care, because he’s chubbing up in his pants as he thinks about what’s about to happen.

“Alright, (Y/N), scoot back on the bed so Kenma can sit.”

You promptly obey, and Kenma slides onto the bed in front of you, following Kuroo’s implied suggestion.

“You should always give ‘em a kiss first. You can use tongue if you want, don’t be afraid to really get into it.” Kuroo continues.

Kenma shuffles closer, gingerly grabs your shoulders. He’s starts out with a peck to your lips, the stereotypical sound of kissing is made as he does so.

Kuroo encourages him to do it again, this time for longer.

Kenma indulges, lets himself linger over your lips. He can taste your chapstick, and it’s not unpleasant. Your lips are soft, and your warm, and Kenma quickly decides he likes kissing.

Then Kuroo tells him to use tongue, which Kenma does, and the younger man cringes at the feeling. He doesn’t like using tongue.

But he enjoys kissing, so he goes back to that, almost sucking at your lips, pressing himself close to you. It’s intimate, and it’s kind of exciting, and Kenma finds himself wanting more.

“You can use your hands y’know. Feel her tits, they look nice.”

Kenma does exactly that, and you squeak into his mouth when his hands grab at your chest. Admittedly, he’s probably a bit too excited, cause the second he feels soft flesh under his hands he’s pinching and groping and pulling, and you’re making pained little noises that Kenma discovers he likes.

Kuroo chuckles. “Damn, you’re going pretty hard there. Didn’t take you for a sadist. You can touch other places too, by the way. Anywhere you want.”

Anywhere?

Kenma pulls back from the kiss, his hands abandoning your breasts to roam over your sides, feel the curve of your waist, circle around to palm at your ass. He’s never touched a girl like this, it’s so different from what he knows of his own body.

That goes on for a little bit longer, but Kuroo’s quickly moving him along.

“Okay, you can lay her onto her back now... or I guess you could go doggystyle.” The older man leans back in his chair. “It’s up to you.”

“Okay.” Kenma breathes. He’s fully hard now, and it’s a bit uncomfortable, his cock tenting his pants like that. But he doesn’t know if now was the right time to undress, so he just does what Kuroo says.

He pushes you to lay down on your back - he wants to see your face. It’s a bit puffy and red from the crying, but it makes you look pretty. Plus, Kenma likes your eyes.

He looks over to Kuroo for what he should do next.

“She’s not wearing anything underneath the skirt.” Kuroo grins, and he looks so utterly pleased with himself, but Kenma doesn’t even register that because he’s flipping up your skirt to see for himself.

And fuck, you really aren’t.

He’s seen porn, he knows what he expected to find. But it’s so different in person. He wants to touch, to feel, so he does. Kenma grabs one of your legs, carefully pulling it to the side so he can see a bit more, and you let him, thigh muscles clenching.

Then he’s running a single finger over your folds and holy shit, you’re so warm and pink and his cock is throbbing and he doesn’t know how much longer he can wait.

“You can take your dick out now. She’s all prepped and stuff, so just go for it.”

Kenma pushes his sweatpants just far down enough that his dick can spring free - Kuroo knows how he is about his body, and Kenma doubts you’ll say anything because you’re staring blankly at the ceiling.

It’s a new experience, so it takes him a second to figure out that he has to part your folds with one hand, guide his dripping cock to your home with the other. You keep... fluttering down there and it’s driving him crazy, he can’t even imagine what that’s going to feel like

The second he pushes inside (you’re all wet and hot and tight and - oh you feel so good) he can’t stop the embarrassing noise the tumbles out of his mouth. His cheeks color red, but Kuroo’s quick to reassure him.

“Don’t worry, keep making noise - girls like hearing that you’re feeling good. And you can talk to her you know.”

“You’re-you’re cute.” Kenma blurts, voice shaky. He’s too overwhelmed to do much, he can hardly breathe right now, he can’t think.

“.... how does it feel?” Kuroo prods.

Kenma has to take a second to calm himself before stuttering out “G-good. Really good.”

He was barely a third of the way in, and the way your walls were pulsing around him, sucking him in, trying to milk him was almost too much. He groaned, hands coming to grip your hips, push your legs up and out of the way.

“Kuroo, it feels so good, she’s so tight. H-holy fuck, oh god, this is-“

Kenma gave a little thrust, and whined, almost crumpling over top of you, panting.

“Take your time, there’s no rush.” Kuroo reminds him, and Kenma huffs.

He’s right next to your face like this, and so he moves just a little bit so he can kiss you again. You don’t do much, but Kenma doesn’t know if you’re supposed to. He just hopes that he’s doing an okay job. Maybe you’re a virgin like him, and don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like? Kuroo would be considerate like that, take into account Kenma’s insecurities.

“Yeah, there you go. Move your hips a little.”

Kenma does, gives a few tiny, explorative thrusts. Then a few more, a bit more confident this time. And then he keeps going, and he finds his cock rutting into you steadily, and he doesn’t know how else to describe it other than it feels fucking divine.

He breaks from the kiss with a low moan, looks at your eyes. You’re crying again, cheeks red, avoiding his gaze. That’s okay. Kenma knows eye contact is hard.

Faintly, he registers the sound of Kuroo’s heavy panting, the low curses coming from where his best friend is sitting. He can’t focus on that though, not when his system is short circuiting.

It’s too much stimulation, and his dick has never been this wet and warm and massages like this before, and then Kuroo’s telling him to pull out and jack off over your face, or your skirt, or wherever, and Kenma doesn’t want to because you keep sucking him in hungrily.

But he knows in the back of his mind that pregnancy is a thing, and he’s not thinking straight, wanting to stay inside you forever. That’s why Kuroo’s here, to tell him what to do.

So Kenma pulls out, whimpering at the temperature difference his cock encounters. He’s so sensitive and keyed up that it barely takes a stroke or two (holy shit, your cream is all over his cock and it’s so wet and he’s going to die of pleasure, fuck) before he’s cumming hard.

He hadn’t moved, so his cum shoots onto your skirt, some of it falling onto your bare skin at your hips.

Kenma finishes, and he doesn’t know what to do. Seconds pass, and his breathing evens out, and he can think again. The younger man pats your cheek softly. “Thank you, you uh, did good. Felt nice.”

Kuroo snorts.

Kenma’s incredibly thirsty, and his dick is still out, and he wants to clean it off.

“You have tissues?”

Kuroo scrambles out of the chair, digs in his bedside drawer before a travel size packet of tissues thumps into Kenma’s lap.

“I’ll go get you some water.” He offers. “You did good sweet cheeks, knew you would.” He tells you, before exiting the room.

Kenma clumsily cleans himself off, then tries to wipe his cum out of your skirt. That’s pretty much hopeless, so he quickly gives up. He notices the slick shining over your folds, so he holds up a tissue.

“Do you uh, want me to-“

“Please stop.”

You’re barely loud enough for Kenma to hear. The man shrugs, before tucking his cock back into his sweatpants, pulling them so they’re snug against his hips again.

He clambers off the bed to throw the tissues away, gets met at the door by Kuroo, who’s holding a cup of water.

“So? You feel like a man now?”

Kenma gives a lopsided grin. He feels proud - the other guys can’t tease him about this anymore, he’s fucked a girl.

Kuroo pats him on the shoulder, before handing over the cup of water. “Hell yeah man! Here, I’ll go finish our girl off.”

Finish her off?

Kuroo catches Kenma’s confused look, and he does his best not to chuckle, but Kenma’s known him long enough that he can’t hide his laughter like that.

“She didn’t cum.” Kuroo offers. “Not your fault, it takes a bit more practice. But hey, you can watch how I do it, yeah? Pick up some technique for next time.”

A quick glance to the bed shows you’ve barely moved, just curled up on your side, arms wrapped around your chest.

“Oh, okay.”

Kenma sits in Kuroo’s desk chair, takes a sip of water while he watches Kuroo unbuckle his belt.

He feels good.

[youryanderedaddy]

♡100 followers special♡

Guys, I would like to thank all of you for all the support since I started this blog, you are the best <3 Btw this is the fic Elon Musk doesn’t want you to see lol, jk jk 

Title: Humanity

Words: 3.6k 

Summary: When you get sold to an odd looking robot after the last failure of a rebellion, things go better than you had expected. Until they don’t. 

tw: robot/AI apocalypse au, dystopia au, slavery, slight non - sexual public nudity, discrimination, vulgar language, mention of death and child abuse (in the past), obsessive behavior, non - consensual touching, angst 

              AD 3061y., 14 September

 Your hometown was in ruins, shattered by the Forces and left without any source of food, clean water or reliable manpower. The rebellion had failed just like the first ten attempts and as much as you had wanted to believe this time would be different, your dreams stayed nothing more than a way to cope with the harsh reality. Any intelligent individual had either managed to flee before the prosecution or died in agony while trying. You could still hear their pained screams ringing in your ear, the desperate look in their pupils sealed forever in your mind along with the sound of heavy breathing slowly fading into the background like your own hopes for a better future.

 The ones who decided to play meek and close their eyes to the inhuman torture happening in the area were spared, but what awaited them could potentially be worse than death itself. You were part of the flock of pitiful weak humans who had surrendered to the heartless machines wanting nothing more than to see mankind squirm and kneel underneath their mechanic heel like a bug. And now you would face the hour of judgment – tired and exhausted, heavy rusty chains around your bruised ankles making every next step a little harder than the last one. But you were certain that the most painful humiliating event hadn’t taken place yet and the thought made your blood run cold. You could recall the countless stories you used to hear on the streets from your friends about androids stealing kids and selling them like cattle to the most powerful leaders of society. Back then you would laugh at them, finding the ideas ridiculous, better fit for a conspiracy theory or a legend rather than an actual threat. But during that time life was easier – the robots were still your friends, just your average citizens, equal to the humans in every manner. It wasn’t until ten years later that some of them realized just how much better, stronger and smarter than the people they really were. That’s how the apocalypse started and that’s how it was going to end. These days the mortals were becoming extinct with the population cut down to one million. You didn’t have names or rights to any possession. Your mere survival had one purpose only – to entertain the machines so they could feel human again. And right now you were being dragged to Soraq, also known as the biggest slave market in the country.

----

 It was just as terrifying as you had imagined it to be. The Capital was supposed to express wealth, luxury and maybe even happiness but your old human views were easily opposed when faced with the mud  covering what was left of the pavement and the pale exhausted bodies of the mortals wandering the streets searching for a hot meal and a little bit of kindness it was clear no one wanted to provide. You reached out to help a young girl sobbing all by herself on the ground but the Officer roughly yanked your shoulder back and ordered you to keep going – his cold hard touch was enough to bruise your skin.

 After a few long minutes of uncertainty your keeper finally stopped, pulling you up some black stairs leading to a small stage and if you weren’t too busy looking around for the others who were captured, you might have noticed the crowd gathered inches away from you. Soon enough you were forced to redirect your attention as you heard the approving screams and cheering below. There were hundreds of robots staring at you, smirking maliciously, pinning you with their cold calculating gazes. You finally realized that this wasn’t just a bad dream or a nightmare, something unreal you could easily run away from by opening your eyes. You were about to become property and the worst part was the way the cruel machines perfectly resembled people – they looked the same except for the dark red pupils each possessed which glowed when going into a fight mode. But unlike humans the androids had gotten rid of their most intimate emotions and fears, turning themselves into empty shells, shiny and murderous with no way to experience anything properly, be it pleasure or pain.

 “Ladies and gentlemen!” The Officers started off with a low chuckle, his heavy hand wrapped tightly around your arm. His voice should have been programmed to be monotone but now it had a playful edge to it. “Today our dear subjects have decided to be feisty yet again. They still haven’t learned their lesson it seems.” He grinned eerily, quickly followed by the mocking laugher of the crowd. Some even shouted slurs and insults but you tried to focus on controlling your feelings. You needed to stay calm if you wanted to survive. “We really can’t expect more from the mankind. They are primal after all, they just can’t learn from their mistakes.” The male robot paused for a second to fix his microphone. “It’s in their DNA code to be foolish and pathetic. That’s why we need to take better care of them.” He whispered the last line down your neck and despite knowing that the machines didn’t have actual lungs, you could swear you felt his cold breath on your sensitive skin.

 “The woman is in her early twenties. Her background is unknown, but she certainly looks like someone you would want in your collection.” The android continued talking as if you weren’t there, his hands all over your tinier frame. The mass was yelling, but you only made out the words „down”, „strip” and „human”. Your eyes watered involuntarily and you let the tears stream down your cheeks in spite of the weakness they showed. It didn’t matter – it couldn’t get any worse so you could at least let yourself experience such little bits of comfort. In the next moment the Officer ripped your old ragged t-shirt, exposing your breasts to the cold autumn air. The hot red humiliation washed over you as the degrading whistles pierced trough your heart. It was such a cruel unfair punishment and you couldn’t even keep your composure long enough to not break down ugly – crying right there.

 “The bidding starts at one thousand eros!” The robot’s evil voice echoed through the area, reaching the market borders. Suddenly all the attention was on your scared vulnerable half-naked self. More than ten androids raised their hands, making your stomach turn in terror. Most of them had unpleasant appearances, resembling old people, usually men. “Do we have two thousand eros?” The officer added quickly afterwards having seen the shown interest. This time there were only five bots willing to buy you for so much money – but the show was far from over. “Am I seeing three thousand eros?” Your keeper kept going, determined to drain your bidders off their wealth, but to his utmost surprise now there were only two robots with their hands in the air – one seemingly younger and the other looking all wrinkled and bitter at the world. You silently prayed that fate would work in your favor only this time and hand you over to the man who would treat you more like a living being and less like an object.

 “Ten thousand eros.” Suddenly the android with a kinder appearance declared out loud, his cold stern gaze fixed onto you. The other male hesitated for a moment, probably wondering whether or not you were worth so much money, but at the end he cursed under his breath and slowly put his hand down with a sour expression. “Sold to K-010 for ten thousand eros!” The automatic voice of the Officer was ringing in your ear like an alarm while the crowd was shouting and cussing, some going as far as to criticize your new owner for giving up his monthly salary for a “cheap human whore”. Next he was invited on the stage to sign off all the needed documents leading to your freedom being ripped away forever and you were injected with a tiny chip which would make your location visible to your buyer at any given time. The android looked at you soon after and in one swift move he managed to place his leather coat on your shoulders, muttering at you to cover up. You obeyed, embarrassed by the reminder that your upper half was still fully exposed to all the hungry prying immortals. When the chains were finally removed, the robot took you by the hand and led you to a small white flying car with a yellow lily drawn on top – the brand was popular among the most powerful members of the Forces.

 “Don’t even think about running away.” K-010 growled when he noticed the way your attention drifted to the nearby road before finally taking your seat. You knew it was pointless now that the tracking device was deep into your skin but deep down you still couldn’t kill the last bit of hope screaming at you to do something before you were too far away to find home again, wherever it was. “If you so much as look outside while we drive, I will use my lasers to turn you into ash. Okay?” You nodded meekly and sank into the soft comfortable seat, wishing that your body would stop shaking in fear but to no avail.

---

 The journey was long and silent but it made you remember the days when music was still allowed and you used to turn the radio all the way up in your mother’s car. You would sing loudly until your throat hurt and your friends would ask you to just shut up and focus on the road. Everything was so normal and happy back then. The stinging nostalgia threatened to overcome so you tried to focus on something else. You finally faced your owner in an attempt to study his appearance. He was probably in his late twenties, his hair white with some black locks here and there, a fashion trend you usually didn’t care much for. You couldn’t afford to bother with your hairstyle when you were constantly running for your life after all. The robotic male had sun-kissed brown skin, he was taller than most human men and his lips seemed softer than most robots’. But the biggest mystery laid in his deep dark eyes, they looked scarlet at first but the more you stared, the easier it was to realize the color was actually brown.

 “Are you a cyborg, K-010?” You asked in a small voice out of the blue, breaking the peace and quiet in the air. The android didn’t spare you much attention with his gaze fixed onto the open sky serving as a road, still he opened his mouth slightly to respond. “My name is Kyle, the numbers are just a formality.” He inhaled sharply as if he was reminiscing a bad memory. “And yes, I am biologically human – just with a few practical upgrades.” You had heard of such people before, the ones willing to become an experiment so they could join the high society oppressing their own neighbors, friends and relatives, setting the lands on fire and destroying the dying environment but you had never met one until today. Honestly, you felt betrayed. It was one thing to be some unfeeling machine’s plaything and entirely another to be owned by someone with a functioning heart even though they weren’t too keen on using it properly.

 “Why would you do that?” You couldn’t stop the question from leaving your lips in the next moment. “You should know what humans have to go through just to stay alive. Today hundreds of us were crushed and sold like some animals! Yet you changed yourself to appeal to their disgusting standards.” You raised your voice, the hot tears already spilling down your cheeks yet again, your fists clenched in pure anger at the foolish greedy man. He simply shook his head and leaned back. “I had my reasons, sweetheart. You don’t know anything.” With that the conversation had ended, you could try and argue or even blame him for being a selfish bastard but it wouldn’t have done you any good so you decided against it. It didn’t matter much anymore.

----

 A few months went by slowly even though time meant little to someone in your position. Living with Kyle wasn’t as terrible as you thought it would be – his mansion was big and spacious, luxurious even. You had your own room and you were allowed to explore the house in your free time. You didn’t have many duties to attend to, your work mostly revolved around cooking, cleaning and keeping company with your owner when he was too tired to keep the robotic mask on and just wanted something sweet, something weak, something more human around. He didn’t want much out of you so you tried to do your best and stay on his good side – there was always a warm meal waiting at the table at night, every window was carefully wiped from the previous dust and the glass was now shining brightly, and you would listen for hours on end to the cyborg’s ramblings no matter how dreadful it could be sometimes.

 But it couldn’t be denied that the man had some odd habits, even if you were to overlook him buying a living being instead of simply hiring a maid. For example, you knew how thin the walls actually were because you could hear him cry almost every night. The half-robot would hold you close any time the news were too loud or a bottle of beer had fallen and shattered on the ground. Still you weren’t allowed to leave his home so all the doors leading to the outside world were locked while he was away or at work. And there were these weird long cuts on his shoulders you had managed to take notice of the first time your master had asked you to bathe him. You hadn’t meant to prey upon his naked form, but the task had been so awkward you needed something to focus on to drive the unpleasant thoughts away. The injuries looked deep and the man would close his eyes any time the soap made contact with them. Finally one day you gathered the courage to ask him what had caused the raw scratches. You were messaging his scalp gently, applying jasmine in his roots, trying to soothe his nerves and get to the information.

 “ ’S not important. ” K-010 answered lazily while arching his back into your touch. More often than not the male would melt under your care and you couldn’t help but wonder just how lonely it was to be neither a human nor a machine. “She is dead now.” He whispered darkly, secretly hoping it wouldn’t reach your ear, yet it did. “Who is dead?” You questioned him after a while, stroking his wet locks until you heard him moan. You were getting better and better at provoking a reaction from the cyborg and despite knowing it was manipulative and a little devious, he was still the ruthless owner who held your one and only life in his palms. You needed to be sneaky if you wanted a safe, comfortable life.

 “My mother.” Kyle added quickly before looking at the blue ceiling, the glossy material copying both of your reflections. The mention of the woman made the sensitive skin of his nape crawl but he kept talking. “The crazy bitch used to beat me every. She even tried to kill me a couple of times.” A slight smile appeared on his full red lips. “It didn’t work out in the end, unfortunately.” So that’s where the cuts were from – he had been violated in his childhood by no other than the person supposed to look after him. You had always hated abusive parents taking advantage of their authority and even now your own imagination made your heart ache at the picture it painted. A small boy being hit over and over until there his whole body was bruised and bloodied. A child with no one to turn to. It didn’t excuse your master’s evil doing but it certainly explained a lot. “Don’t make such a sad face, darling.” He cooed at you, reaching out to pinch your cheek. “I will always be grateful to the Forces since they gave me the power I needed to finally free myself from her grasp. I even buried her myself after everything was said and done.” Kyle grinned from side to side like a little kid waiting to be praised for the picture they had drawn, except now the man was speaking of the way he had murdered his mother. You were at a total loss of words, suddenly too frightened to respond.

 “What’s so special about being a human anyways?” The cyborg grumbled, sounding almost offended of the words you still haven’t said but were definitely thinking deep down. You were staring forward unable to draw away from that one crack in the wall, his words flying above your head. Your confusion was interrupted by the man quickly raising to his knees and catching both of your hands with his strong robotized ones. The cold touch of the metal combined with the camouflage of a soft skin was enough to mess your mind even further into the maze that was his dark gaze. Next thing you knew the male had you pinned on the hard ground, spotlessly clean and reeking of abstergent. You tried to squirm away but the hold of your wrists was too tight and strong to even make your struggling worth the trouble. “Just look at how weak you humans are.” K-010 taunted you, smirking teasingly, cruelly, yet there was something desperate in his eyes, something hidden. “You are so fragile I could probably break you if I were to press harder on your flesh.” He whispered into your ear, breathing down your neck as he dug his icy fingers into your collarbone and made you whimper pathetically at the dull pain. “People are foolish creatures, illogical by nature. They try to fight authority yet the moment they are left with a free choice, they find a way to run from their responsibilities.” The cyborg chuckled maliciously while digging his nails further into your skin.

 “We might be doomed forever because of our emotions but there is something you fail to consider.” You finally spoke out despite your rapid heartbeat and fear so great it could defeat death herself. The predator already had you in his sharp claws and there was no pointing in playing coy anymore. The worst had come to worst. Your words caught the attention of the half-robot and he licked his lips in anticipation to hear what you had to say. “Unlike the androids we can still experience love. And at the end a life without love is a life wasted in the big picture. We might be mortal but you are the ones waiting to die instead of living.” You spat at the man fiercely, ready to face any punishment he would bestow upon your weak tired body for the sheer honesty. Instead he started laughed maniacally, the sound so loud it hit the ceiling and echoed through the house like a pained scream and so violent his shoulders shook to the sides. For the first time his eyes were glowing in a bright red color so saturated and vivid you couldn’t stand to look at them.

 “This is really funny, my little human.” Kyle pronounced carefully, having calmed down. He lowered his head so that his lips were ghosting over yours, just brushing against them. “I belong with neither humans nor robots so why does my chest ache every time I look at you? Tell me, darling, am I in love?” His voice was harsh, husky – as if he was purposely trying to sound evil but the tears in his eyes pointed at another feeling. A raw painful feeling.

 You couldn’t reply not only because you had no idea what to say after the confession but also because you couldn’t breathe properly with his pretty, wicked face so close to yours. Your silence only managed to stir the cyborg up further into his madness and he kissed you roughly, hungrily lapping and biting at your lips until they were sore and bruised, the robotic man more than happy to lick the small drops of blood off. For a moment you considered kicking or shouting for help but there wasn’t anyone willing to in the radius of kilometers. No one of significance cared much about the few remaining mortals. “I could never love you.” You uttered weakly, half – heartedly pushing the man away. You were all alone in this and there wasn’t really a point in fighting someone so much bigger and stronger, yet a sad little part of you hoped that Kyle would leave you alone if you made it clear enough just how much his actions were hurting you.

  “It’s fine if you don’t love me by choice.” Your master replied calmly in a cold piercing voice. His hands were wandering through your form stopping at your hips to draw them into his. The pretty dress you used to like so much was now crumpled and reeking of him, torn apart from your shivering body and thrown away. You wished you could cry but all the adrenaline had left you too uneasy to process the pain and fear. Kyle whispered in your ear while stroking your hair gently and it made you feel like a trembling sheep before a starved butcher. “I own you, little human.” He placed a small kiss on your hot sensitive neck. “And I have enough love for both of us.”

[nightjarteeth]

Cuddling with the Courtiers, Ranked

(content underneath the break because this got long)

Vulgora: 9.5/10

Literally the best cuddler. Once you’re in their strong arms, you feel the safest you’ve ever felt in your entire life. Their skin is inhumanly warm. No matter your size or body type, they are strong enough for you to sit in their lap. There, they’ll regale you with stories about how they got each of their scars. If you have scars, they’ll want to hear all about them, too, and put their hands all over them (with your permission, of course).

Detracting half a point because there’s a chance a beetle might crawl out of their body, especially if they’ve just been in a fight.

Demon form: 0/10

Either you’re cuddling with a big bug, or a swarm of beetles. In any case, it’s going to be an unbelievably unpleasant experience. NOT recommended.

Volta: 8/10

If there’s one thing that can be said about cuddling Volta, it’s that she comes prepared. There will be giant pillows. There will be huge, soft quilts big enough to burrow under or construct blanket forts with. There will be trays of pastries and tea at your side. Volta embodies the definition of cozy. All around, you’ll have a wonderful time.

The only real negatives are that her hands and toes tend to be cold (and yes, she will stick her cold toes all over you). Also, she fidgets a lot.

Demon form: 10/10

So, so soft. The softest thing you’ve ever felt in your life. Consider yourself blessed if you are offered the opportunity to cuddle with this small creature.

One tip, however: you know that thing people do where if their cat yawns, they stick their hand into its mouth just to see what'll happen? …yeah. Don’t do that with Volta.

Vlastomil: 7/10

Let’s get one thing out of the way: he’s a little slimy. But that’s okay. You can work through it. Just try to discreetly dab his hands with a washcloth first. See? It’s fine.

Anyway, once you’ve dealt with that particular component, he’s by all accounts a fantastic cuddler. Extremely attentive to your needs. You’ll talk with him about all sorts of subjects: worms, palace gossip, worms, the art of vermiculture, and of course worms.

Realistically though, if Vlastomil’s interested in you, he’s also going to be curious about your interests. You’ll probably end up chatting for hours about both of your passions. And once you delve into some juicy secrets, he’ll throw a blanket over both of you to keep things clandestine (even though there’s practically no one else in his estate...)

Demon form: 4/10

As you might imagine, the slime situation is a little out of control here. If you’re brave enough to withstand the slime, however, it’s not entirely awful. Once you’re cozy within his coils, think of it as the biggest hug you’ve ever received.

Valerius: 5/10

How do I break this? Valerius is a selfish snuggler. He always wants to be the little spoon. He doesn’t just want physical contact, he wants to be pampered. Also, he gets very finicky about affection in public — he’ll initiate touch with you with no problem, but if you try it yourself? He may throw a fit about how you’re “embarrassing him”. (Okay, so admittedly trying to cuddle him during a meeting wasn’t a good idea on your part.)

On the plus side, he’ll let you play with his braid. (And yes, it is exactly as silky and luxurious as it looks).

Demon form: 8/10

The poor dude’s not really accustomed to an inhuman form yet. Most likely, he’ll snag his sharp teeth on his wine glass and spill all over himself. He’s very caught off guard and embarrassed about the whole thing.

Luckily for you, you can use this to your advantage. It’s kinda cute to see him so flustered. As you help clean the wine he’s spilled on himself, you can go ahead and take the lead from there, and continue the cuddling session however you please.

Valdemar: 3/10

Look — cuddling with Valdemar is going to be a challenge. Persuading them to cuddle in the first place is difficult. They’ll tell you that they don’t understand the point. You’ll have to entice them into it — preferably, by chatting about whatever medical subject matter they’re currently hyperfixated on.

Once you’ve managed to initiate the snuggling sesh, it’s still not exactly a pleasant experience. They’re extremely bony and angular. Their skin is always deathly cold. They probably smell of chemicals. Sometimes, they have weird stains on their lab coat.

If you can manage to make them sufficiently comfortable, however, they might let you unwrap their head bandages. And maybe, maybe, they’ll even let you stroke their hair. (If you get to this point, consider the rating bumped up to a solid 7/10.)

Demon form: ?/10

This one is going to be extremely dependent on your preferences. Firstly, you’ll have to wear a blindfold so that your eyes don’t get damaged. Secondly, it’s going to be weird. You’ll probably feel exposed bones and viscera prod against you, and the unsettling sensation of being watched by far too many eyes. You’ll also be embraced in a tangle of limbs — how many limbs, precisely, is difficult to pin down.

If all of this sounds pleasant to you, by all means go ahead.

[therenlover]

The Bay (A Helmut Zemo x GN!Reader Drabble)

A/N: I wrote this on vacation while I was getting emotional about Lake Michigan and completely forgot about it... oops! Enjoy this shitty rushed love letter from my heart to both Helmut and my great state <3

Synopsis: You and Helmut enjoy the final evening of your vacation on the dock overlooking Grand Traverse Bay. 

Tags: Tooth Rotting Fluff, Kisses, General Pretentious Michigan/Great Lakes Experiences, Overly Floral Prose, Mosquito Bites

Rating: T

Warnings: Minor Mentions Of Casual Drinking, Slapping Mosquitos But Like... Not In A Violent Way

Word Count: 1100~

“Have you ever seen anything more beautiful in your entire life?” 

Your question was rhetorical at best. Of course, Helmut had seen things far more beautiful than the sight you’d set before him. He was rich and affluent, a man with ties to royalty and a private jet that would happily take him wherever he wanted to go, but still, you hoped he could humor your small-town sensibilities a bit longer as you enjoyed the final evening of your spur-of-the-moment weekend holiday. 

Before you, the Grand Traverse bay stretched out into the distance, glassy and still save for the gentle ripples made by your dangling, frozen toes. 

The sun was still relatively high up in the sky, nowhere near the horizon, but you could just begin to see purple streaking through the sky. Soon the sky would be filled with colors; red, yellow, orange, purple… a sunset more spectacular than anywhere else in the world. For the moment, though, the sky was still its usual cornflower blue. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Helmut hummed from his spot on the dock, reclined on a colorful beach chair, his latest book in hand. “It is… unique, in the best of ways,” Then, he grinned. “What’s so funny?” 

He chuckled a bit to himself before lifting up his sunglasses and smiling down at you. “I am simply enjoying the view,” 

“I thought you said it was unique,” 

“Perhaps, but I was only referring to the scenery. When I include you in the picture, though, any view automatically becomes the most beautiful I have ever seen,”

Despite the fact that you’d known Helmut for years, your cheeks still heated at his endless flattery. “Stop that, you know I was talking about the lake!” 

With little more than a thoughtful hum he slipped from his seat and kissed you softly, the knees of his pants scuffing against the wood of the dock as the pages of his book, abandoned beside his glass of white wine on a small folding table, fluttered softly in the cool, late-afternoon breeze. 

Your combined laughter carried all the way up to the rental house.

You stayed that way for a good, long time. In fact, by the time you thought about anything besides the feel of his plush lips on your own, the mosquitos were out in full force, and a soft purple dusk was settling over the sky. 

The pair of you were squeezed onto the colorful beach chair as the sun descended, falling below the treeline across the water. Neither of you really knew how you’d gotten there exactly, not that you minded the closeness. His natural warmth meant you didn’t have to break away and retrieve your sweater from inside. He definitely wasn’t objecting either if the way his arms snaked around your waist was a good indicator. 

You broke the silence after pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, voice joining the chorus of frogs and grasshoppers alike. “I think I’ll swim tonight before we sleep. You can join me if you want to, but I get it if you’d rather stay inside,”

“I’ll consider it.” His hand fell away from the meat of your side after giving it a soft squeeze, reaching for his glass. “I don’t quite understand your obsession with torturing yourself in 45-degree water, but if it’s important to you, you know I will partake,”

That earned him a soft snuffle of your face against the warmth of his pulse. As he leaned into the touch, the last of his wine slipped sweet and cool down his throat. When you lifted yourself up to kiss him once more you could taste the last of it wet on his lips. 

“Should we turn in for the moment?” Helmut’s voice was soft, almost reverent against your flesh.

“Why would we? It’s gorgeous out here,” 

“Schatz,” a light smack against your flesh punctuated his sharp words, “you’re practically being eaten alive,” Sure enough, a quick glance at your stinging skin revealed a tiny crumpled mosquito, crushed beneath the weight of his palm. A sheepish sigh was the most you could offer in retaliation.

“Alright, alright! You’ve got a point. I just… five more minutes?” 

Helmut tensed, prepared to put his foot down in the very special, gentle way that only he could, but, unlike almost every other moment in your whole relationship where he insisted to know what was good for you, he relented, settling back down into his chair with little more than a smile and an apathetic shrug. “Five more minutes. Then we’ll find some bug repellant and we can get ready for our evening swim,”

Your eyebrow raised slightly. “Our?” 

“Did you think I’d allow you to be alone out here in the dark, falling prey to these blood-sucking fiends?” 

Once again, Helmut slapped your flesh and his hand came away with the telltale red smear of an unlucky bug. You were already starting to itch despite the relatively early hour, which was honestly to be expected so close to the still, marshy water’s edge the swarms of irritating monsters called home. Perhaps, if you were lucky, the chilly waters would numb your senses to what was sure to be an unpleasant amount of bites. 

Even if they didn’t heal your ills, there was something captivating about the seemingly endless waters that awaited you. The curved trees that drooped and swayed above and the blooming lilies that cradled the sunset below and all the endless ebbing, flowing waves that crashed against the pebbled shore in a whisper singing sweetly no matter where you rest- Come home to me! I waited for you! Do you recognize me? You’ve grown!

You’re home. 

The realization doesn’t come all at once. No, it’s a slow thing. The waves crash and the mosquitos hum and Helmut rubs his hands, cold with condensation from his glass, down the soft exposed flesh of your arms. Ever so slowly but all at once, the final piece clicks, and you smile. 

Somehow, you know you’re where you’re meant to be. 

The world would turn, that you were sure of. You’d wake in the morning and pack up your bags before running to wherever Helmut saw fit for your next worldly excursion, and that was fine. You couldn’t stay rooted in one place forever. Still, though, at that moment, you were sure you had found the path you were always meant to find. 

With that in your mind and heart, you leaned closer to Helmut and drew him in for one more soft kiss. Neither of you tried to pull away for a good long while. 

You wouldn’t have had it any other way.  

[vegalocity]

Secret kisses and Touching 2, 14, 22, 23, and 44. Secret Silktea relationship, except both spider fam and Monkey fam actually know! Half of them don’t care enough to say anything (Pigsy,Tang,Spider Queen,Wukong,Syntax) while the other half wants them to reveal it when they’re ready (Min Yi,MK,Mei,Goliath,Sis) - Pixel Anon

Affection meme

49. secret kisses

2. running fingers through hair

14.putting an arm around the other’s waist

22.falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

23. carrying the other one in their arms

44.sitting on the other’s lap

this took me forever to put together because for some ungodly reason i couldn't figure out the scenario

so i decided on a little vignette compilation of sorts

--

They knew what they were doing.

Of course they knew what they were doing. It was in either of their best interests to keep this a secret. Just because the clan had stopped their crusade to take over the city and their queen had dialed down the ‘revenge’ ideas, didn’t mean there wasn’t still bad blood between his clan and Sandy’s family.

And it wasn’t too difficult, it just meant that when they were all working together for some greater threat or whatever that they’d have to be sneaky. It was easy stealth was one of Huntsman’s greatest Attributes and suspecting Blue of anything was like suspecting a small dog of knocking over a bulldozer.

It wasn’t too hard to simply keep their hands to themselves. Or at least, it wasn’t hard for Sandy, Huntsman was quickly finding his self control lacking in regard to being in such a situation with his… well, with him. But could anyone blame him? Blue was more or less the hottest guy he’d ever ran into before and he was kinda-sorta DATING him! How could he not want to climb that like a tree at all times?

Especially when he was always being so stupidly fucking charming. Sure the ‘needlessly nice’ stuff wasn’t something he particularly appreciated, but it was starting to grow on him, if only on the amount of restraint he must have to keep it up all the time.

Soooo yeah maybe he was purposefully pushing their luck a little, but in his defense he wanted to see how much desire based frustration it would take before ol’ Blue would just pin him against a wall and make him regret wondering.

--

Syntax had shooed him away from being a nuisance at his worktable, so naturally, Huntsman had to go be a nuisance at someone else’s worktable. Thankfully Sandy was far more agreeable to the company, and thankfully the bid of ‘Bugging Syntax first’ kept his alibi solid. He wasn’t just going over to see Blue he just wanted to be a louse and his normal target had already locked him out of his room. And so nobody really suspected anything when he started to peer over Sandy’s side to watch him tighten this or that thing on this or that device.

And it was pretty damn fun to see just how much of a ‘nuisance’ he could be. This particular bout resulting ih Huntsman being pressed against the car engine Blue had been working on, feeling the orange hair slide between his claws and messing up the stylized mohawk and shuddering when he felt those huge hands almost entirely encompass either of his thighs while keeping him aloft. He hissed through his teeth as he felt Blue give one of his legs a testing squeeze and rolled his hips forward a bit-

“Fish Demon? I need to get another set of eyes on these schematics or I'll actually go insane.” By the time Syntax looked up from his clipboard Sandy was working on the engine again and Huntsman was leaning against his work area and had barely had the opening to whip out one of his knives and his portable sharpener.

Though Sandy’s hair was unable to be fixed and fell to a side as he smiled at Syntax and took the offered blueprints from him.

--

He wasn’t a big fan of those domestic snatches of time, he wasn’t.

It was mostly an instinctual response, Spiders were pack bonders, so of course when his internal senses started categorizing Sandy as ‘pack’ then he’d relax without intending to while being pulled in with a hand on his waist.

Which was definitely the reason why he was curled up to Sandy’s side, the cool slick feeling of his scales strange against his more leather-like skin. That stupid instinct was the only real reason why he felt so comfortable and like he could practically fall asleep like this.

He felt Blue’s hand gently start running up and down his side and dammit that wasn’t playing fair, it wasn’t his fault that he had been having sleeping problems lately and was rapidly getting drowsy.

He could feel Blue’s hum as the world started to drift away-

“Hey Sandy what do you think- Uhhhh”

“Oh, hello Xiaotian.”

“You know you’ve got a spider on you, right?”

“Oh yeah, Looked like he was having some paranoia problems, took a bit of wheedling to get out but Huntsman here was up for like four days straight ‘till now!”

“Did… Did you slip him your sleepy tea?”

“Of course not! That would be super unethical! Also I'm pretty sure he’s still semi conscious and passively listening without any critical thought right now since he only just dozed off and would probably wake up angry if he overheard anything like that!”

“....right… so anyway-”

--

The brat knew.

Dammit he knew the brat knew. She definitely fucking knew.

He should have known better than to try anything with that Professional Snoop underfoot. But He’d had plans with Blue before having to get stuck with the brat tonight because the Queen needed Syntax’s expertise and the Sister was on shift at work and Goliath already had plans doing who knows what, and he was stuck with Minyi since he ‘didn’t have any plans’

He’d dragged his feet on the idea of cancelling with Blue, but he’d fucking done it so nobody could say he didn’t contribute to the upkeep of their clan’s youngest. It was just his luck that Sandy had been fine with coming over instead, and the brat had overheard some of the conversation and got excited about ‘Mr Sandy’ coming over to visit. The brat had insisted on stringing some of her fake flowers into his hair before he arrived, after dubbing him ‘suitably pretty’ (her words) she’d done up her own hair as similarly as she could because he certainly wasn’t helping her with her weird pre-’company is coming’ rituals.

And… Blue was a hit with the brat. He had an infinite amount of patience for the inane childish babbling, stooped low so she could string the remaining fake flowers in her possession (why did she have so many fake flowers?) into his beard, and offered to fix dinner for the lot of them (which was for the best since the brat was such a picky eater she could barely stomach some of his specialties)

And… he was not jealous of a six year old for how she was able to crawl into Blue’s lap while the lot of them watched some inane mystery show for the character drama alone since the brat called and explained the mystery within the first three minutes.

Blue was a bit awkward on the sofa, it made sense, Goliath would normally sit on the floor for how the height and width of the couch was not designed with bigger demons in mind, and Blue was considerably bigger than Goliath. So while the brat was cozy as could be in the place of honor, Huntsman was stuck perched on the arm of the couch as to not be crushed into it trying to squeeze in beside Blue.

Not that that would be a wholly unpleasant experience, but the presence of the brat made it go from tempting to awkward. Nonetheless, part of Sandy trying to get comfortable had included one of his arms resting on the back of the couch, and while it seemed the brat wasn’t paying attention, it slid down to wrap around his shoulders.

When the time came Minyi didn’t need to be told it was bed time for her, she loudly announced it herself, changed into her pajamas, and after saying goodnight to the both of them went on with a

“I am going to sleep now! And I will not be out of my room until morning so if anything were to be happening I certainly won’t know it, because I will be asleep.”

She smiled widely at Huntsman and closed her door.

Nosey little brat.

--

Tang huffed a quiet laugh as Sandy gingerly began to lift Huntsman into the air, his broken leg not quite able to be splinted just yet, let alone looked at properly. It seemed the lot of them had suffered some pretty nasty injuries from this last threat (and no doubt it would have been worse if their team and the Spider Clan hadn’t joined forces) including Tang himself despite being on the sidelines for most of it, he was pretty sure his shoulder was dislocated, and the cut on his forehead was still sluggishly bleeding all over the right side of his face, but compared to some of the others he was basically fine.

So once He was able to pop his arm back into place (Ouch) he took to handling cleanup with the only other ‘perfectly normal person’ here, a woman maybe a few years his junior, he’d seen her every so often with the Spider Clan (or rather, with Syntax) but he didn’t know her name.

“Do you think they actually think they’re being subtle?” Her words caught his attention and he turned to glance at the woman. She was in the middle of splinting Xiaojiao’s broken wrist and at Tang’s questioning glance, she nodded at Sandy and Huntsman. Oh!

“I’m sure Sandy thinks he’s the pinnacle of subtlety” Tang responded. He was pretty sure the ‘thing’ that had developed between their friend and the most brutal of the Spider Clan was the worst kept secret on the team since Red Son had started hanging out with Xiaotian and Xiaojiao on the weekends.

“They are so cute when you just walk in on them.” Xiaojiao said around a snicker. “Like how they jump apart like when you flip a magnet over to the matching side.”

“Does your team have a betting pool? My brother organized one for the clan, and if they do anything damning within the next month i win the pot.”

“No! Ohh man we should get one started up! Hey Pigsy! You wanna make a betting Pool for Sandy and Huntsman’s secret romance?”

“Why the hell would i want to do that?”

“Finally have dirt on Sandy after decades of him never being embarrassed about anything ever?” Tang offered with a shrug.

Pigsy thought for a moment and shrugged back before going back to fussing over Xiaotian. “Sure. Who’s bettin’ what?”

--

send me stuff!

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do Drift and Ravage for the oxygen loss prompt?

I absolutely can do Ravage, our dear kitty deserves the love! Drift can be found in part six below!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Part Thirteen: You're Here!

Ravage

·The tale of how you even became friends with the reclusive and understandably untrusting felicon is as long as it is convoluted, but a good synopsis is that the two of you simply get one another. It doesn't hurt that you always gave him ample personal space and respected his boundaries, and the fact you don't mind meeting up in the vents is a plus for him. Bots are absolutely baffled by your relationship, so avoiding public spaces has become his preferred activity to enjoy with you, if only to be free of the gossip. Equally eager to have peace and quiet, you'd long since found ways to make his favorite spots in the vents into ideal hangouts.

·Unfortunately, today is one of the rare days he has to be away from your side and amongst the crew. On the Bridge there's some kind of trouble, requiring all the commanding officers to be present while it's sorted out, and he refuses to leave Megatron there alone. Primus knows his old friend gets blamed for everything that goes wrong eventually... Yet he's far from focused as the diagnostic scans reveal a confounding bug in the ship's programming. As worrying as it should be, his thoughts drift repeatedly to you, and how much he'd rather be somewhere far less open and bright. Hopefully this will all end soon, and the two of you can curl up somewhere to relax, with his larger body naturally fitting around yours as if made to do so...

·A teasing look from Megatron makes him realize he had allowed his dreamy thoughts to color his face with a ridiculous expression of lovestruck bliss. Pinning back his ears and flushing hot as a star, he can only be grateful no one else seemed to notice. Just as he's debating whether or not to sneak away, there's a commotion amongst the more tech savvy bots. They claim to have found the source of the programming bug; which isn't a bug at all, but a virus. Claws fully unsheathing in preparation for combat, his sense of dread grows exponentially as he puts together what is being said, realizing that something very bad is moments away. Lights flicker in confirmation of his fear. In moments the ship is flashing out a hundred or so alarms, signaling that it is more or less helpless against whatever may happen next.

·You're the first thing he thinks about as countless terrible scenarios begin to play in his mind. Between his hypersensitive hearing and smell he's nearly choked on the panic and fear growing through the Lost Light, but all he wants to focus on is you. A human has precious little in the way of defense, and with every system keeping the ship stable, there's nothing to protect you. The solution is obvious; he has to find you before something else does. When the ground quakes and an incoming transmission threatens the crew he doesn't stick around to hear the enemy gloat. A brief explanation to Megatron is all he offers before taking off, and though he doesn't stick around to see it, his old friend gives him a nod of understanding.

·Distant sounds of metallic warping and the scent of soldering tell him the ship is being breached, but also make it incredibly difficult to pinpoint your location. He's memorized every identifiable feature of yours for moments like this, but the chaos turns the air into a smog of panic, so that it's only the uniqueness of your scent that allows him to find a trail. Faster than most vehicle modes and far more limber, he's an unstoppable blur through the hallways. A path to your shared quarters forms effortlessly in his mind as he passes down the levels.

·Far from your partner, you're still recovering from the bang that shook the entire room you'd been so comfortably set up in. Dazed on the ground, you get your feet beneath you before thoughts return, and the first one is for Ravage. Unfamiliar with space travel, you feel compelled to fear the worst; what if he was too close to whatever just went wrong? Capable as he is, the Felicon isn't immortal. Dead communication lines cement the need for worry in your dizzy head. Careless to the considerable tumble you just endured, you try to think of the best possible response for both your sakes. If he's able to so much as crawl, Ravage will be headed for you, so the best thing to do is make yourself as easy to find as possible. Shallow as that plan may be, it's at least a starting point, and you won't have to go far.

·A trail of claw marks through the hallways marks a tireless and acrobatic flight of barely disguised panic. Ravage takes every possible vent into his olfactory receptors for even the tiniest whiff of you. It's a scent he falls asleep with every night, the familiar yet so unusual mammalian musk soothing him as he curled about your tiny body... Now he's panicking over every tiny whiff, if only because he can't tell if you're really okay. Foreign smells tell of an encroaching enemy spilling into the Lost Light, and from the overpowering rush it appears their numbers are considerable. Some even appear to be moving through the lower levels just a floor or two below... Hulking footsteps that are not Cybertronian register in his sensitive ears, moving with such little grace he can feel them through the floor in his perceptive paws. Anger helps him swallow down some fear. If they want to get between him and his partner, then it's their death wish.

·Finding little to be working reliably, you open the door to your room just wide enough to let you through only after multiple attempts prove unsuccessful. A lifeless but somehow noisy hallway greets you. The sounds of combat are close, or at least, you presume what you're hearing to be combat. Perhaps you hit your head harder than you thought, because thinking through what's going on is far more difficult than it should be. Holding onto the wall for support, you try desperately to think of a plan. Ravage could be anywhere, and with no way to reach him, it's impossible to plan a meet up or even attempt to learn of his status. Yet... these dire thoughts don't invoke the panic they should. It's growing impossible to even stand on your own, and without meaning to you start to lean more of your body against the wall...

·Ravage inevitably is faced with a foe he cannot evade, and for your sake, he charges forward. There's a group of them, all gathered in the only hallway that will take him quickly to your location. He can feel the heat of energy weapons simmering in the air by the time he's upon them. With the element of surprise he's able to unleash incredible damage in his first attack, claws and fangs tearing through protective armor to kill one and severely wound another before they even realize they're being attacked. Bounding between their hulking forms, he faces the one disadvantage he's always endured through combat; his enemies far outscale him. Though his need to protect as well as survive turns him into a living blender, a well placed and simply lucky strike makes painful contact with his back, cracking the armor and bringing forth a spattering of energon.

·Recovering with the aid of his own anger to fuel the final attacks, he fights on with the wound agonizing him all the while, sinking his fangs in deep to take care of the final enemy. It isn't until the last body thunders to the floor that his legs temporarily give way. He's in need of medical attention, but he doesn't dare slow down, or even get a moment of rest. Shaking legs push defiantly to get him upright, and for once he's able to be grateful to have four. The ragged pace he resumes with is only as fast as it is because he knows he's close, as your scent is now clear despite the warring smells of blood and a million other unpleasant odors. Even if all he can do is collapse by your side and keep you company, it will be enough...

·Time seems to stand still when he sees you slumped over by the doorway to the room you two share. Though you're without injuries and the iron rich smell of human blood is undetectable, he knows something is very wrong, and though every motion hurts he bounds to your side. Crying out your name, he gently nudges you with a careful muzzle. Warmth and the rythym of your heart quell his greatest fears just before you open your eyes. Not quite awake, you can only be relieved to see him again, far too out of it to be afraid. At his insistence to move you express a desire to rest instead. No amount of encouragement can seem to make you realize the danger, and thus he's forced to make the decision to move you himself, even if he's in bad shape himself. Clearly, you need more help than he can give.

·You go along as best you can when he insists you ride on his back, and it's only your considerable experience doing so in the past that makes it possible now. He tries to think through the pain, but has little luck imagining what could possibly have done this to you, and his efforts to do so are hampered further as he begins to limp forward. Between energon loss and exhaustion and fear he knows things are looking grim. It tears at him more aggressively than any wound ever could, particularly as he feels you growing weaker against him, and all he can do is beg for you to hold on. You want to, but with his body so close and the rocking of his steps, how can you resist the urge to sleep? Surely everything will be fine when you wake... It's too much for him to endure when you slip into unconsciousness, and his legs give out beneath him. Failure burns in his spark as he tries in vain to keep going, his inability to save you haunting his exhausted body as footsteps draw near.

·It's by fortune he has rarely experienced that you're happened upon by a group of bots led by Megatron. He forces himself to stay awake for your sake, refusing to let anyone separate you so long as you need care. The blur of the medical bay brings comfort only briefly, as when he's informed of the reason behind your struggle he's nearly torn apart by guilt. Seeing you with your oxygen mask confirms his failure to protect the one he holds dearest to his spark. Withdrawing from the world, he allows himself to be patched up before curling himself around your tiny body, all but shielding you from the universe so intent on hurting you both.

·The warmth of his frame so frequently is your first sensation upon waking that you don't realize something is off at first. It isn't until you feel the mask on your face that you remember what happened, but by then Ravage is gently tapping his muzzle against you to confirm everything feels alright. Without promoting, he gives a quick rundown of what led up to this moment. You're wide eyed as he explains the ship's atmospheric shutdown, particularly when he gets to the part where he tried to carry you to safety... The apathy as he recounts it all, however, is far from fitting. Laying a gentle hand on a paw, you ask if something happened that bothered him, and receive confirmation from his silent expression of sadness.

·Initially, he can't bring himself to say what's wrong. On the surface he knows his actions were reasonable, but in his spark... he's so afraid of how his own inability to save you nearly resulted in tragedy. Just the thought of losing you is terrifying enough, but having nearly faced it has rocked him to his core, and he sits in silence under the weight of those emotions. Mercifully, you can read him well enough to not need words. Ravage has always withdrawn when upset, and few things agonize him more than failure.

·Gently as you can, you encourage him to come close, pulling his helm as near to your lap as possible. The sadness in his optics nearly breaks your heart, but you're confident as you speak, thanking him for what he did to save you and insisting you wouldn't be here without him. When he briefly tries to protest, you point out that he likely wouldn't be injured had it not been for you, and he quickly replies that you're worth any scars. When you retort that you feel the same way about him, a small amount of weight appears to leave his shoulders. He recalls that the best part of loving you has always been the freedom to exist as he is, free of pressure, and that he can't be a failure in your eyes so long as he tries. It's simply easy to forget that sometimes... Allowing himself a purr, he uses his tail to most effectively wrap you in his protective body, intent on keeping the both of you safe and warm for some much needed rest. So long as you have each other, there's nothing that can't be overcome.

[hopeymchope]

How would you rank the 18 Class Trials from THH, DR2, and V3 from worst to best?

This is... virtually impossible for me, lol. Comparing the trials from each game to each other?

How about I just rank them within each game? That'll make it a little easier for me to deal with...

DR1

6) 5th. It's driven by lies and ultimately rushed to its end before the characters can draw any solid (pointless/meaningless) conclusions. So of course it's last for this game, and it’s probably last for the entire series as well. If there are any saving graces to this trial, it’s the surprise when your closest ally is willing to let our protagonist die... and that this trial contains the fake/bad ending route.

5) 3rd. Although the main culprit is pretty obvious from the jump, it requires some surprising twists to explain how everything got to be the way it turned out. But did I always find those twists plausible? Errrrm... not really. 

4) 2nd. Pretty good trial that's hurt for me by the fact that there'd barely be any need for a trial at all if a certain third party didn't dick around with the evidence for no reason. Also, the dual nature of Toko is an incredibly predictable reveal. Without those two aspects dragging it down, though, this could easily go higher.

3) 1st. Sure, the major hint given and, subsequently, the eventual culprit are pretty obvious, but this one establishes so much about how the trials work and how much the details you observe will matter that it’s still pretty fun that first time around. The initial surprise of the first victim makes for a great way to keep you invested in the trial experience. This trial is damn near iconic now, so it feels almost mandatory to respect it.

2) 6th. DR1 still has the best "final trial,” easily. SO MANY great reveals, and they all totally work for me. Nothing rings false or disappointing, and it also features Makoto finally coming into his own and taking the lead. I nearly labeled this my top pick for DR1, but...

1) 4th. It's easily the most emotionally dramatic/satisfying for me, and there’s something weirdly inspirational for me about Hina’s incredibly harsh stance during it. This one GOT ME IN THE FEELS, and in part that was because I saw so little of it coming. After the more predictable elements of the first and third trials, this felt like the writing was firing on all cylinders. 

DR2

6) 2nd. You have to accept a couple leaps of logic to make this trial keep flowing, and the fact that trial is ultimately reliant on someone noticing a candy that’s very small and hard to see while the person is also in a stressful situation and they are groggy from being drugged/asleep and it necessitates the person retaining this seemingly useless detail inside their brain .... that’s always bugged me.  The “escape route” conversation even retroactively raises questions about the first trial. Oof. On the upside, the reveals it brought us about Fuyuhiko and Peko were incredibly important, satisfying, and legit surprising turns. And it’s pretty cool how it’s basically a two-for-one combo trial because you have to solve the Twilight Syndrome case before you solve the current case. 

5) 3rd. Other people have pointed out the leaps of logic and missing pieces of this trial, but at the same time, the candlelight hanging is so intense and the ultimate reveal of the culprit is such a brutal turn that I have to give it some props. The culprit’s primary plan is ultimately one of the most ingenious in the series, IMO, and definitely one of the most twisted/fucked-up, which earns it some points. 

4) 4th. This is probably the single murder case in the franchise that I understood the absolute least about when entering the trial, for better or worse. On the one hand, that made it really fun to see the mystery gradually unfurl, but on the other hand, it made it tough for me to provide the right answers at certain points in the trial, leaving me fumbling. A big part of those issues was how it was initially hard for me to wrap my head around the nature of the funhouse via the provided 2D graphics... but once I eventually got there, I had to respect the creativity that went into devising such a “weapon.” Also, it can be hard to tolerate Komaeda in this trial. He’s even more of a know-it-all-but-reveal-none-of-it jackass than ever before, and his turn towards overt cruelty towards the others (and Hajime in particular) left me raging. The culprit reveal is good, but the motive does beg the question of why he didn’t just come forward from the jump.

3) 6th. There are a lot of great reveals in the final trial that totally reframe how you see the characters, and some of them are deliciously twisted. There’s also a ton of great dialogue provided, and in retrospect, it’s actually sort of neat to have one endgame mastermind reveal in this franchise that doesn’t involve the “They were hiding among us this whole time” trope. All that plus the surprise return of our surviving heroes from the first game! However, this is also where they officially reveal a core element of DR2 and its setting that I've never liked. This knocks the trial down a few pegs for me. Of course, by the time you reach the trial, I'm sure 99% of players have already figured that particular "twist" out. There’s adequate evidence to predict it in the first freaking chapter, and I know this because I DID predict it in the first chapter of my initial playthrough... which further hurts the supposed “reveal” of the island’s true nature when it comes around. 

2) 1st. Probably my favorite of the “first trials,” there are lot of components that go into this one. There’s a combination of two premeditated killers plus one spur-of-the-moment accidental victim, there’s a satisfying (though admittedly maybe too easy) reveal of the killer being one of the most unpleasant people to be around during the first chapter, and I really dig how audio became a very important component of the mystery due to the total blackout. This is also the part of the game where we learn just how twisted Komaeda really is, which is HUGE both in terms of its immediate shock factor for a total newcomer and in terms of its impact on the game as a whole. Of course, since it’s a “first trial,” it can’t be too complicated... but they still manage to confuse so many of us with “MEAT ON THE BONE” :P

1) 5th. Again, I will almost always give the most emotionally intense one the top slot. The “traitor reveal” is obviously THAT MOMENT in DR2. I also love how this one used the strange internal logic established early in the game RE: Komaeda’s luck to develop the eventual solution. And forcing us to make use of evidence gathered in multiple locations outside of the immediate site of the body/murder? That more complexity of that type that I see relevant to a trial, the more I appreciate it, and this one has loads of that stuff. Although I guess the investigation isn’t technically part of the trial itself... but it’s still very relevant to it. 

DRV3

6) 4th. I found this whole trial to be just... extremely predictable. Maybe it’s because I was so far into the series that I’d gotten used to its tricks by this point, but this was the most predictable trial for me since the first one in the first game. The whole looping/rollover map setup of the VR? Obvious. The murder weapon? Obvious. Our culprit’s ongoing confusion at everything discussed? Obvious. There were only a couple of points I didn’t have already figured out when I walked into the trial room, and those turned out to be basically irrelevant (such as the bottle of poison). The eventual motive is at least a surprise, but I also found it hard to accept that this culprit would really kill people over it. Overall: Super lame. 

5) 3rd. Another double murder trial, and once again one murder overshadows the other. The séance murder is definitely clever. Sure, you know the culprit pretty early on, but the methodology is the good part. However, the real fascinating one for me is the art lab “locked room” murder. Going into the trial, I couldn’t fathom how they were going to explain that one, and I found the answer both smart and satisfying. It’s funny to imagine how many times the culprit had to try that stunt with the lock before it actually worked, heh. This is probably the best of the three “double murder” mysteries in the series, but the trial isn’t as emotionally affecting as the 3rd trial in DR2 to me. Moreover, the trial loses points for the most infuriating Hangman’s Gambit of the series and especially for the motive reveal. When the killer’s motive can be boiled down to “they’re basically just a psycho serial killer,” it’s not very interesting.

4) 6th. The first part of the trial, which deals with re-assessing the first case? It’s pretty damn on-point. That leads to the mastermind reveal, which... isn’t great, really. It’s not a terribly interesting character to make the mastermind, they have no interesting motives or characterization to unevil, and they’re ultimately just a pawn behind another, off-screen group of masterminds. But then things get uproariously funny to me. The metatextual stuff is just so goddamn ridiculous. It’s frustrating and annoying how much of our not-mastermind’s explanation is clearly full of lies and half-truths that we’ll never have complete answers on, but that’s also part of what makes it all fascinating. We get to swap protagonists like four times! There’s a fake-out Game Over! These are really cool things. But it all leads down the road of our protagonist arguing that fiction does affect reality (yes, good), that fictional people can still matter (definitely) and that... fictional lives are equal in value to real ones? Uhhhhh slow down there, champ. That only works for YOUR universe, where fictional people can be made out of living, breathing individuals. But in light of the metatextual stuff you’re surrounded by, you kinda sound silly AF right now?

3)  2nd. Look, this is still incredibly irritating to me. Also, if you go down the alternate “lying” route at one point, you are forced to accept that these piranhas were somehow trained to only eat dead things, which is just... so deeply dumb.  But what is good is the entire ropeway conceit (which is a very significant part of the trial!) and the idea of the partition inside the tank. This was a murder with an elaborate, intelligent plan that is very well-executed. And the motive reveal? It’s one of the best in the series! I respect that stuff. (If I had the right to toss the execution in as part of the soup, I’d say that it’s also one of the series’ best. Let’s call it the icing on the cake.)

2) 1st. The writing that made this trial work is undeniably clever. The way the narration told us exactly what was happening without really telling us what was happening? It was a masterstroke of both great writing and perfect localization coming together. When it becomes clear during the trial what is about to happen, it’s a huge shock. The transition to another protagonist with the lights flickering out and back on is beautiful. Even the core concept of a protagonist who was willing to step up and try to kill the mastermind immediately is just deeply interesting. And obviously this one made my emotions run high. HOWEVER! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Kaede Akamatsu was a more interesting, unique, and compelling protagonist than Shuichi Saihara ever was. Ultimately, the protagonist-swap, no matter how well-written, was a mistake because they shifted us from a unique character with an interesting new perspective to a character who is, in many ways, “Makoto Naegi with even less self-esteem.” Yes, I know he has aspects that make him distinct as his own person, but there’s still just too much there that feels like we’ve done it before, and he never fully escapes from that. It feels like a massive waste and a huge missed opportunity to ditch Kaede like this. Now, if they had just done the protagonist swap in reverse — making us start out with Shuichi before flipping things over to Kaede — we could’ve had ourselves something amazing here.

1) 5th. I know I decided that I couldn’t rank all among each other, but if I did do that, I feel confident that the 5th trial in DRV3 would rank very high indeed. You go into the trial unable to even determine who the victim was due to the fact that two people are missing and there was nothing left of the body that spoke to an identity. Going into it, you naturally figure that one of the two missing parties has to be the victim and the other one is probably the culprit. But even with just two friggin’ suspects, the amount of turnabouts in the case that made me rethink all my assumptions was insane. Sure, the explanation for how the person inside the Exisal can maintain “character” is pretty damn thin, but once you get past that, I don’t think there’s a single false note in the trial. It even breaks unprecedented ground by continuing into another Non-Stop Debate after everyone has already voted. And of course, it culminates with a lot of intense emotion. Even the execution is emotionally satisfying! ..... although I’m not sure if I should count the execution as part of the trial, but hey, still. As far as Dangan trials go, the fifth one in DRV3 is basically a masterpiece.