#was it a pain in the ass to review? absolutely

[kaija-rayne-author]

Dragon Age, as a series, deserved so much better than Veilguard.

Spoilers for Veilguard and maybe other DA stuff.

Obligatory 'I'm not an asshole' disclaimer. Feel free to jump to the cut if you've read it.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I was on media blackout while I played DAV. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

Note. None of my writing on DA, but especially DAV, is edited. This is just my off the cuff writing. I don't have the time, energy, or heart to edit them properly.

The Solavellan romance deserved a much better end than 'die and go to fade prison'. I agree that Inky would likely be happy to leave. She's as traumatized as Solas for having to lead when she didn't want to. But I needed more than a craptastic Romeo and Juliet ending.

I refuse to do the heavy lifting for the writers. If it wasn't shown in the game or in supplementary materials, it didn't happen. Showing us the story was the writers' and devs job, not mine.

I mourn what will never be, even as I work on a Solavellan fix it fic.

How could they betray the IP so badly?

How could they betray their fanbase so badly? The fanbase that kept hope for that game alive for 10 years. I've seen so many people saying they've lost their interest or passion for the entirety of Dragon age. That they're not even remotely interested in another game because absolutely none of the choices we made in previous games matters anymore. They've wiped everything clean... or blighted it anyway. (I have absolutely no interest in another DA game. Not with Epler/Busche/Weekes involved. And whoever designed that ridiculous fighting system.)

The only way I could possibly be interested in another game would be if they loudly decanonized DAV, gave us a DLC (they've already confirmed there will be no DLC) that showed us Solas and Inky happy and not in a horrible place. One that showed us that somehow, something changed for the elves.

But that's so unlikely it's laughable.

The elves deserved a better ending. Are the survivors still enslaved or living in alienages? What actually changed for the elves except the largest portion of the Dalish being dead from blight? (That’s a real elvish win, isn't it?)

I'm a stubborn person. I refuse to let Epler's 'hate-revenge on Solas fan fic' ruin something I've loved for years. I still have the first 3 games. I'll make an actual happy ending and a decent romance for Rook in my fic.

And by the fact they paid a fortune to big gaming magazines while denying game keys to bigger honest reviewers... they knew.

They knew gamers wouldn't like it and tried to blow so much smoke up our asses with the interviews and AMAs.

How do they even sleep at night?

I'm a creative too, I write, do graphic design, digital (learning) and traditional (good) art.

My stories are important to me. They deserve not only an ending, but an ending that respects the characters, lore, and world that I've created.

My readers deserve that, too.

I, as the creator of my stories, deserve a decent, respectful ending.

Dragon age deserved it, too. A good, well thought out, and well written ending to the story of the Dreadwolf storyline, which, if you're paying attention, is intertwined through all 3 games. It's not just in Inquisition. One that made sense to the collected Lore, his struggles and mistakes, his literary role as an anti-hero.

I would never be able to do what they've done to a beloved series. I could never knowingly mislead fans like they did.

It's just a really painful reminder that beloved stories can be utterly destroyed in the wrong hands. And a reminder that there's so much talent and skill in Fan fic.

Busche worked on the Sims. No wonder the companions often feel as interesting as wet cardboard. Most Sims NPCs do, too. (I actually enjoy the Sims, but the NPCs aren't why I like it.)

And she had the gall to blame 'culture wars' and 'identity politics' for why the game is tanking. Rather than take ownership of the incredibly bad calls made for DAV.

It's just gross. I wish I could stop thinking about it. But Dragon Age got me through some tough times. It means a lot to me.

And it just deserved better. So did we.

[ravendruid]

Be In My Eyes - Chapter 27

You can read the previous chapters here or on AO3. Trigger Warnings: Canon typical violence, mentions of abusive relationships, domestic violence toward children, theft, and murder. Rating change: This fanfic will be rated Mature from this point forward. Summary: After Keyleth is taken by Kashaw, Vax starts spiraling. He gets into action to protect Keyleth, and later they exchange heartbreaking stories.

Keyleth was gone. She ran away. Vax had been so sure it would work after she practically poured her heart out with her song. Maybe answering her call had been a mistake. Maybe he had misinterpreted it? No. It couldn’t be. Keyleth had smiled at him when he sang those damn words to her. He saw the fire and wanting in her eyes. Vax couldn’t have been wrong. Keyleth wouldn’t have sung that song if she wasn’t testing him or setting a bait for him to answer, and like a damn sailor lost at sea, Vax had followed her voice and gave himself to her (and in front of everyone, too). And she ran away. Why?

Someone stepped in front of Vax, but his blurred vision did not allow him to see more than yellow, gray and dark colors. “Vax, are you okay?” One of the figures said. Vax recognized that voice. “Vax?” A different voice called him. They were both females, soft, concerned voices, but neither was the voice Vax needed to hear the most at that moment. “Come on,” The first voice said, and Vax felt someone pull him. He didn’t see where they were taking him because his eyes were still glazed with fear that he had done something wrong (again), that he had ruined everything (again), that he had pushed away the person he loved the most (again, again, again). 

You’re useless. You’ll never amount to anything. Who would want the son of a seamstress who allowed herself to get knocked up? Stupid. You are stupid and useless, like your mother was, Vax’ildan.

“No,” Vax’s voice was hoarse. 

“What?” Vex’ahlia. That’s who it was, the first female voice, the blur of yellow and gray. “Vax, what happened?” Her hands were on his cheeks, warm and calloused from years of labor and archery. His sister. Vax had failed her, too. He had failed her like he failed their mother. He had ruined everything for her, too. “For fucks sake, Vax’ildan,” She was angry at him, as she should be. Did Vex’ahlia know what he had done for her? Did Vex know about the blood that soaked his hands? She couldn’t know. She would never know what Vax had done to save her from that monster. 

Vex’ahlia let go of her brother’s face. The warmth of her touch evaporated like a droplet of water falling on hot coals, and then came the sting and a different kind of heat. “What the fuck,” Vax heard someone say behind them. Another hit, another sting. “Vex!” Another voice.

“Snap out of it, brother,” Vex’ahlia yelled above the music. Vax tried to follow the sound of her voice. The sting was vanishing as fast as her warmth had, pulling him with it. They had gone through the motions of this ritual too many times in their lives to count. Day after day, night after night, when Vax’s demons flared and took over his soul. He hated them. He hated their strong grip, dripping black ichor over his heart, coating it with pain and darkness and death. So much death. 

Vax’ildan saw his sister’s face when he closed his eyes, then his mother, Elaina, the baby he left behind in the hands of that monster, and lastly Keyleth with a blinding halo of radiant light around her. She had run away. He had come for her, and she had run. Why? He demanded to know. As if the gods had heard him, his sisters’ faces in the darkness vanished, and then his mother, leaving only Keyleth’s visage. Vax reached forward, trying to hold on to her, but she ran away—even in his mind, she ran away—leaving only that blinding light that twisted and turned until it became a golden thread that wrapped around his wrist. Vax raised his hand to examine it and pulled at the string that floated in the ether. It didn’t budge. It was tied around his skin, even though there were no knots. Vax felt another tug—not his—and when he turned his face in its direction, he recognized the woman with long dark hair and a face as pale as the moon that held the other end of the golden thread. She beckoned him silently, crooking a finger, tugging on that golden thread that floated from his wrist. Vax’ildan followed. 

“She’s in danger,” A pure crystalline voice said, coming from both the woman and the darkness surrounding them. 

“I can’t save her. I couldn’t save them, and I can’t save her.”

A cold hand caressed Vax’s face, “You did your best. You saved them as best as you could, and you will save her.” 

“I can’t. Please, you have to understand. I can’t save her.” Vax begged. He would have gotten on his knees if he could.

“Vax’ildan,” The woman’s eyes burned with a raging fire. A slap, a new sting. “Go, now!” She tugged on the string again and Vax felt himself fall, and fall, and fall, and just when he thought he would be falling forever, a fourth slap hit him with the strength of a mighty giant.

Vax opened his eyes. He felt a warm liquid in his mouth that tasted like copper. Grog stared at him worried, hand lifted for another slap if needed. On his left, Vex’ahlia sighed and Vax let his eyes follow as she allowed herself to fall into a seating position on the table. On Grog’s right, Pike groaned in relief. Other faces were surrounding them, all concerned, but no one spoke until a white-haired man stood by Vax’s sister, squeezing her shoulder in reassurance, and said, “I don’t know what the fuck that was or what happened, but Keyleth is gone and we can’t find her, so get your shit together, Vax’ildan.”

“What do you mean?” Vax asked hoarsely. His hands came up to rub at his sore cheeks—the last slap was still stinging—as he looked from face to face. All his friends were wearing their coats, gloves and scarves.

“We looked everywhere,” Scanlan said, next to Pike. “Keyleth is not in the bar anymore, not even in the bathroom.”

Vax’s heart skipped a beat. What had happened to make her run away? What happened after? The same dread from earlier wrapped around his chest, tightening with each second, each word his friends spoke. When Vax thought it couldn’t get worse, Vex’ahlia raised her head from her hands with a panic in her eyes that Vax hadn’t seen since Saundor. “Kash is—” Vax didn’t let his sister finish the sentence before he was on his feet with his leather jacket in his hands.

Vax flew out of the alcove. He ran down the stairs as fast as his legs allowed him, jumping steps and pushing people aside. The jacket was on before he reached the landing, Keyleth’s scent still lingering on the interior of the fake leather jacket. Vax whipped his head to the counter, where he saw Gilmore surrounded by patrons—alone. He didn’t wait for his friends to follow. He didn’t care if they did or not. The woman’s warning rang in his ears, and the image of his knife where he left it on his nightstand flashed in his mind. He was an idiot to have left it behind. The only time he did…he was useless and powerless, just like all those years ago, just like that night. 

—

It was raining again. It was the third night in a row that Vax’ildan, Vex’ahlia and their puppy, Trinket, had to sleep huddled together behind a trash can. Vax had made sure to open and adjust the lid to provide them with some shelter from the rain, but even that wasn’t enough to stop them from getting drenched and cold. Vex’ahlia was sound asleep by Vax’s side, holding the puppy to her chest inside her damp shirt in a lousy attempt to keep them both warm. Her breathing was shallow enough that Vax knew she wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. At least one of them was getting some rest.

The pattering of the rain on the alleyway was so loud and annoying, and even though Vax had barely drunk any water that day, it still made him feel like he had to pee every hour. He had been holding for a while, but a burst of pain shot through his bladder, forcing Vax to go relieve himself, so he stepped away from Vex, carefully so he wouldn’t wake her up, and crossed to the walled end of the alley. He was even more drenched by the time he zipped up and buckled his belt, the only thing keeping his loose pants from falling to his ankles. 

“One more step and she dies.”

Vax stopped in his tracks. He hadn’t heard them because of the loud rain. He hadn’t felt them lurking in the shadows, watching him and his twin, and now a hooded figure held his sister to his chest with a sharp knife against her neck.

“You don’t want to do that,” Vax threatened. He canvassed his surroundings from the corner of his eyes. Another figure stood at the open end of the alleyway holding a knife. He could probably defeat two of them with his bare hands if it wasn’t for the fact that a dark liquid started dripping on Vex’s neck. Shit.

“Oh yeah? And what are you going to do?” The male voice asked. 

Nothing. Vax couldn’t do a single thing to stop them. He had nothing but his hands and he wouldn’t risk fighting hand-to-hand with his sister’s life in danger. So Vax did the only thing he could do. He lifted his hands so the assailants knew he was submitting and took a tentative step back.

“That’s what I thought. Where’s your money?”

“We don’t have any money,” Vax tried to lie. They didn’t buy it. More blood started dripping down Vex’s neck, mixing with the dampness on her shirt. The man asked again, threatening to slit her neck. “That bag over there,” Vax pointed with his chin to his backpack where he had left it by the trash can. 

The second figure ran to it and opened it. They turned it upside down, sprawling all Vax’s clothes and belongings on the dirty, muddy ground, until a satchel fell, the clink of coins muffled by the rain, just like the two assailants’ steps had been. They grabbed it and moved back, just as silent as they had been. 

“You’re in our city, so if you want to sleep on our streets, you have to pay up. Consider this a warning,” The first figure threatened, releasing Vex’ahlia with a shove that made her fall face-first on the floor. Trinket ran to her and licked her face, barking at the man who was stalking back, still facing them, the bloody knife dripping on the ground as he went. They were gone in the blink of an eye, just as quietly as they had appeared.

—

It didn't take Vax two steps out the door for him to realize that he had no idea which direction Keyleth could have gone—which direction Kashaw took her. Vax would never forgive himself if something happened to Keyleth, and he would surely not let Kash live to see another day if he touched a hair on Keyleth’s head. Vax looked to both sides of the empty, snow-blanketed road and held his breath trying to listen for any signs of life nearby. The only sound he heard was the creak of the door opening behind him and rushed steps coming out.

“Vax?” It was Percy, bundled in a thick jacket and scarf. It was so cold and Keyleth was only wearing his t-shirt. She had to be freezing. 

“Percy, I—”

“It’s okay. Go left, I’ll go right. Call me if you find her. The others are staying at the bar in case she returns.”

Vax nodded and they each took a side. For a large city, and for being located so close to the university, the neighborhood was quiet and peaceful. Vax passed by several closed stores—from bookstores to boutiques, and even a butcher—and a handful of dimly-lit windows on the residential buildings above. There were no alleyways between the buildings, at least not until Vax reached the end of the block. He stopped, walking quietly, trying to listen as he approached the dark alley—and good thing he did.

A hushed male voice that Vax’ildan knew belonged to Kashaw was speaking incoherently. Vax couldn’t decipher what he was saying, but he heard sniffles and Keyleth’s shaky voice saying something incomprehensible. Vax ran, his blood boiling with rage. Please don’t let her be hurt. Please, Gods. Please don’t let him hurt her.

Vax’s heart stopped when he turned a corner. Kashaw braced himself with one hand on the brick wall behind Keyleth and the other hand was gripping her jaw on her neck as he kissed her. Kash was kissing Keyleth. 

“Get the fuck away from her,” Vax growled. He grasped the neckline of Kash’s ridiculous gladiator outfit, pulled him away from Keyleth, and threw him against the wall on the opposite side of the alley. Vax was on him in a heartbeat, his closed fist meeting Kashaw’s jaw. The man was so stunned that Vax was able to land two punches before Kash pushed Vax away and tried to kick him, but unlucky for him, Vax was too fast and evaded him.

“You get the fuck away, I saw her first,” Kash spit blood on the ground between them. He lunged at Vax, managing to land a punch on his stomach, making him double over in pain and spit on the ground.

“Vax, no!” Keyleth cried. Vax couldn’t afford to look back at her. Any distraction could be his end. He lunged back at Kash, kicking him against the wall. The man’s head hit the brick with a crack and Kash cursed between his teeth. Vax took his rival’s moment of distraction to pin his wrists above his head and leaned in until their breaths mixed. Kash reeked of alcohol.

“She doesn’t want anything to do with you,” Vax spat. 

“Then why did she go out with me? Do you really think she would ever love a guy like you? Do you think anyone would?”

Kas was torturing him. He knew Vax had feelings for Keyleth, and he was torturing him since he couldn’t land a physical blow. You’re better than this, Vax told himself, trying to douse the flame of rage. 

Who would want the son of a seamstress? You are stupid and useless like your mother was.

Kashaw was right. Vax’s father was right. Vax was no one. He was nothing but vermin. No one could ever love him. He had been delusional if he thought someone like Keyleth would ever look at him. But Kashaw wasn’t much better than him, not after what he did to Keyleth.

“Let him go, Vax,” Keyleth asked. Vax still couldn’t turn his head. He couldn’t bear to look at Keyleth and see whatever damage Kash had done to her. “Please.”

Vax released his grip on Kashaw, but his face was still hovering above the other man’s as he spoke with a deadly voice, “I’m only letting you go because she asked me, but if you so much as look at her again, I will kill you.” Vax took two steps back. Kash must have seen the severity in Vax’s eyes, for his mismatched eyes were filled with fear. He nodded and left, not bothering to glance back at Keyleth.

Only when the sounds of Kash’s steps had subsided did Vax turn around. Keyleth was sitting on the ground, hyperventilating with her knees pulled to her chest. Vax ran and squatted in front of her, but before he could open his mouth, Keyleth looked up at him with tears in her eyes. She had dark streaks from the eyeliner running down her cheeks, and her lip was swollen and bleeding slightly from a small cut, but other than that, she looked untouched. Keyleth grasped Vax by the lapel of his jacket and pulled him. His knees rang with pain as they hit the hard ground on each side of Keyleth’s legs, but then his nose filled with the scent of her shampoo when she crossed her arms around his torso and cried on his chest. 

“Okay?” Vax asked, kissing the top of her head and rubbing the hair on her back. Keyleth nodded. She forced her breaths to follow Vax’s heartbeat—Vax almost stopped breathing when he realized Keyleth was doing that—and eventually, Keyleth calmed down, although she was still shaking. 

“Here,” Vax took off the jacket. Keyleth broke away just long enough for him to help her put it on and hugged him again. “Everyone’s worried sick about you, Kiki.”

“Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, love.”

Keyleth nuzzled further into his chest and released a wet chuckle. Things had been different for a while with Keyleth, but his father and Kashaw were still right. No one would ever love someone like Vax. Whatever was going on between him and Keyleth, it was bound to end, but Vax still tried to enjoy every moment he had until Keyleth saw the truth about him and left like everyone else did. 

“I want to go home,” Keyleth asked after a while. Vax nodded. He helped her up, fixed her hair by tucking a few evading strands behind her ear, and held out his hand in invitation. Keyleth took it without a second thought, and they left the alleyway.

“Shit, I should call Percy,” Vax let go of Keyleth’s hand just long enough to dial his roommate’s number and then immediately grabbed it again. He saw the slight curl of her lips as he laced his fingers with hers, ignoring the pain shooting from his split knuckles. Keyleth’s hand was still cold. In fact, she looked like she was still freezing without a scarf and gloves, so Vax slid both their hands inside the pocket of his jacket and nodded at her to do the same with the other hand. It was a bit awkward, but it worked.

“Did you find her?” Percy asked as a way of greeting when he answered the call.

“Yeah, I got her.”

“Is she alright? Please tell me that fucker didn’t hurt her.”

“She’s okay, a bit shaken up. We’re on our way back.”

“I’m outside. I’ll wait.” Percy said. 

Vax looked ahead, and just as he had mentioned, Percy was outside the bar, one hand deep inside his jacket and the other holding his phone. He hung up as soon as he saw them and ran towards Keyleth, grabbing her by the shoulders. Percy winced at the sight of her split lip and pulled Keyleth into a hug. Vax stood back to watch, having let go of Keyleth’s hand.

“Are you okay?” Percy asked her.

“Yeah.”

“That fucker. I’m going to kill him.”

“Men,” Keyleth shook her head disapprovingly. “Vax already took care of that.”

Percy looked over to Vax, who shrugged and replied, “I’m pretty sure I broke his nose. Let’s just say he’ll be running with his tail between his legs next time he sees Keyleth.”

Percy nodded, “Thanks.”

“You two are insufferable,” Keyleth complained, rolling her eyes, but Vax still saw the smile. 

“What did he do to you?” Percy asked, carefully moving her jaw so he could see her lip better in the light.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Percy. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. Now I just want to go home and get warm.”

“Alright, tomorrow then. Do you want me to walk you home?”

“I got it,” Vax approached, placing a hand between Keyleth’s shoulder blades.

“A word in private, please?” Percy asked his roommate. Vax nodded and they stepped away enough for Keyleth to still be in sight but not be able to hear them.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you two, but I’m trusting you with her life. Make sure she gets home safe, or you’ll be the one with a broken nose, got it?” 

For the first time since they met, Percy gave Vax a look that made him want to run for the hills, screaming like a little girl. With a name like his, Vax knew his roommate had to have money and status, which meant he could also probably find someone to kill him if he stepped out of line. However, Vax couldn’t afford to let his friend know he had gotten to him, so he schooled his expression into a bored look and replied, “I would let myself get killed before anyone laid a finger on her.” 

Percy’s eyes softened, seemingly happy with Vax’s answer. He moved to turn back to Keyleth, but Vax grabbed his arm. “Oh, and Freddie, I’m trusting you with my sister’s life. You better bring her home in one piece otherwise you’ll get a fate much worse than Kashaw’s. You know what I keep under my pillow, right?”

“Yeah, I know. She’s safe with me.”

“Good. I’d hate to get a new roommate in the middle of the school year.”

“Are you boys done with your pissing contest?” Keyleth asked when they returned. 

“You’ve been spending too much time with my sister, Kiki.” Vax teased, grabbing Keyleth’s hand. He wasn’t sure if Percy had seen the gesture because the man was already pulling Keyleth into a hug and kissing her forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Go take care of that and get some sleep.” Keyleth nodded in response and started leaving, dragging Vax behind. 

“Make sure you let everyone know Keyleth is safe,” Vax said above his shoulder. “And tell Shaun I’ll call him tomorrow to let him know what happened.”

��

Vax didn’t let go of Keyleth’s hand for a second. They walked in silence for the most part, only stopping to comment on the few decorations that were starting to pop up on storefronts. Keyleth had noticed the redness from the cuts on Vax’s knuckles from punching Kashaw so hard. She had never been more scared—not for her, but for Vax. Kashaw was drunk and he looked violent enough to hurt Vax really bad. She knew Vax had some knowledge of fighting, but seeing him in action… Vax had been so fast she hadn’t even been able to keep up with his movements and so strong that Keyleth had no doubt Kash would be bleeding from hitting his head on the wall, but, at the same time, it looked like Vax had been pulling back punches, like he could do more—worse. 

“Thank you for tonight,” Keyleth said when the first lights of campus appeared around a corner. It was becoming a habit to have Vax come to rescue her. Maybe he was indeed her knight. 

“As if…” Vax shrugged dismissively. Keyleth looked at him. “Did you really think I was going to let anything bad happen to you?” Keyleth smiled and bumped against him, chuckling. 

Keyleth and Vax were greeted with a wave of warmth once they opened the apartment door, and then a woof and a warm, wet nose poked their hands. 

“Hey buddy,” Vax greeted the dog. “I see they finally turned on the heat.”

“It was about time,” Keyleth groaned, taking off Vax’s jacket and hanging it by the door. They removed their shoes and ignored the messy bundle of blankets on the couch. What Vex didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, and Trinket was usually pretty good about obeying the no-couch rules. One time wasn’t all the time.

“I’m going to change into something more comfortable. I’ll give you your shirt back after washing it, I promise.”

“You can keep it,” Vax said. He was still untying his boots by the door, so he didn’t see the shock on Keyleth’s face.

“It’s your favorite,” She argued. Vax shrugged. “No. I’m not taking it, Vax. I’ll give it back after I wash it.”

“Fine,” He said, shrugging again. “I’m going to change and grab the first aid kit. I’ll meet you in your room to take care of that lip.”

“I’m fi—” Keyleth was about to say, but one look at Vax and she backed away (not scared—never scared of him—but with respect). “Fine, but you have to let me take care of your hand,” She challenged him back.

Vax looked down at his fist and shrugged. “As long as you let me take care of you, I’ll let you take care of me, Kiki,” he said, stopping to kiss Keyleth’s cheek as he walked towards his bedroom. 

Keyleth had just finished putting on a t-shirt when Vax knocked on the door. Now that the maintenance had finally turned on the heat, and with Keyleth’s comforter and fuzzy blanket, she didn’t need to bring out her warmest pajama sets. Although she loved them, Keyleth hated sleeping in lots of clothes because sometimes they made her feel trapped and wake up with shortness of breath. 

“That looks cute,” Vax smiled at the embroidered rainbow across her chest. Keyleth blushed. “Do you embroider all your clothes?”

“Not all. Most of them. All my clothes are hand-me-downs or thrifted, and I like to alter them to give them more… personality, I guess,” Keyleth explained. They sat on her bed and Vax immediately got to work on bringing out the supplies and cleaning her lip. The swelling had gone down and the cut was barely noticeable, but she still allowed him to take care of it, if anything, to help him feel better. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Vax asked, dabbing her lip with cotton. Keyleth winced at the sting and Vax blew at it with a soft, “sorry.”

“He didn’t do anything… you know…” Vax paused to look at her. “I promise I would have told you.” He nodded and went back to his work. Keyleth waited until he was done to say, “I bumped against him at the bottom of the stairs. He said something about wanting to talk and brought me outside. I was so disoriented I couldn’t answer.”

Vax got up to wash his hands and throw away the used supplies. Keyleth waited until he returned and started cleaning up his knuckles. “I started panicking because none of you knew where I had gone. He was so drunk I don’t think he realized I wasn’t okay. Or maybe he thought I was drunk, too. But he brought me to that alley because he wanted somewhere quiet.”

Vax instinctively closed his hand in a fist. Keyleth saw anger burning in his eyes and slapped his wrist to help him focus. “Sorry,” Vax said, opening his hand. He let it rest on her lap while Keyleth grabbed more supplies.

“He asked why I hadn’t called him to go out again and if it was true that I was on a date tonight, but he didn’t let me answer. Then he started saying I looked really hot and asked if I wanted to go to his place and shit like that, and when I said no, he said fine. I thought he was going to leave, but then he leaned in and kissed me. Next thing I know, he bit my lip when you pulled him off of me,” Keyleth gave Vax a shy smile.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. It’s no big deal. It was just a kiss,”

“It wasn’t just a kiss, Kiki. He shouldn’t have taken it without your permission.” Vax’s other hand came up to cradle her face. Keyleth leaned into his warm touch. He was always so gentle with her.

“How’s your stomach?” Keyleth asked. Vax let go of her face to poke at where a bruise was already probably forming and shrugged. 

“I’ll be fine in a few days. What are you looking for?”

“Bandaids.”

“We don’t have any. Grog used them all the last time he tried to cook. He cut himself five times until Pike took the knife away from him.”

Keyleth snorted and got up. “I think I still have some, but they have flowers,” She said, opening her closet. She dug out a box of bandaids from inside a travel bag and showed it to Vax.

“I don’t need them. I’m fine, I promise.”

“Is it because of the flowers?” Keyleth asked, pouting as she returned the box inside the bag and back into the closet.

“Of course not. You know I’d wear them even if they were shock pink or bright yellow with polka-dots.”

“Fine,” Keyleth stopped in front of Vax. She grabbed his hand, taking one last look. She had done everything she knew. It looked much better than before—at least it wasn’t bleeding anymore. Satisfied with her work, Keyleth cleaned up the trash and headed to the bathroom to wash her hands. She didn’t flinch at seeing Vax leaning against the door jam, his head cocked as he examined her.

“Can I brush your hair? It’s a mess,” Vax asked. It had been a while since someone offered to brush her wild hair, especially when it looked like she had fallen through a bramble of bushes.

“Sure,” Keyleth handed Vax the hairbrush. He grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. It was the same way Kash had grabbed her earlier, but it felt so different with Vax. His hands were more calloused, but it was such a softer and more gentle touch. Keyleth would let him guide her wherever he wanted, which, at the moment, wasn’t far. Vax sat on her bed and patted the blanket in front of him. He carefully removed the elastic that still tied part of Keyleth’s hair and expertly started parting her hair in sections.

“Can I ask you something?” Vax asked, brushing the ends of Keyleth’s hair.

“Anything, Vax.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I was wondering…” He hesitated. Keyleth looked above her shoulder, but he turned her head forward with a tut. “I was wondering if you could tell me about your family.”

Oh. That was a sore subject, not just for Keyleth, but also for Vax from what she gathered. “You’ve met my dad. He raised me by himself. He’s a great dad.”

Vax paused his brushing, “How old were you when—”

“I was five,” Keyleth replied before he could finish. More than anticipated the question, Keyleth had a feeling that was the real reason why Vax asked about her family. “My mom went on a business trip and didn’t come back. Boating accident. Her body was never found.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Vax leaned forward and rested his head on Keyleth’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay. I mean… it’s not… but you know what I mean, right?” She looked back at him. The look of understanding they exchanged was worth more than words. “I have a grandma on my mother’s side. She taught me how to embroider and crochet. She’s really nice. I’m sure she would love you. I know she would put so much food on your plate,” Keyleth giggled so violently that Vax had to pause the brushing again. 

“I’d love to meet her. And your dad. I mean actually meet him.”

“You’re welcome in Zephrah anytime,” Keyleth offered. Vax nodded, but then he realized she couldn’t see him and replied, “I’d love to, but I don’t think I can afford it.”

Keyleth felt bad for him. She knew the twins were in a strict financial situation, although she didn’t know how bad it was. Vax often refused to go out with the group, not just because he didn’t like bars but also because most of the time, the twins couldn’t afford to pay for both to drink, so Vax stayed home to let his sister have fun. Keyleth also noticed the exchanged glances between the siblings whenever the group planned to go out for lunches or dinners, how their contribution to the communal food and household goods seemed to grow smaller and smaller every week (not that anyone had ever called them out on that). Keyleth had even heard the twins fight about something Vex’ahlia had bought out of their budget, and from what she gathered from the conversation, Vax was very adamant his sister returned it to the store, but she refused. 

“Maybe one day?” Keyleth extended the offer. She wanted to tell him she would buy all the plane tickets he needed, but she knew her friend was too proud to accept.

“Maybe,” Vax replied, but she knew he had no hope.

Keyleth’s mind returned to the look of understanding they had shared moments before. The words he had spoken to her months ago when he found her curled over herself against the kitchen counters. She had opened up to him and told him about her mother, and while he didn’t owe her anything, Keyleth couldn’t stop herself from asking, “How old were you?”

Vax knew what she meant because the hairbrush stopped again, and he took a long breath. Keyleth waited patiently, looking at the massive, shaggy dog curled on her roommate’s bed—Vex’ahlia, who also had lost a mother. 

When Vax spoke, there was no ounce of anger or frustration for being asked such a personal question. If anything, Keyleth heard some relief that they were finally brushing up on the subject, as if he had been waiting to share that piece of himself with her. “We were ten.”

“And your dad?”

Vax chuckled, “Long story. He’s an asshole and we’re as good as dead to him, as he is to us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I can tell you about it one day,” Vax finally set Keyleth’s hair brush aside and started braiding her hair.

“I don’t have anywhere to go tonight.” Keyleth tensed and waited. Vax finished the braid, tied it with the elastic, and dropped it over her shoulder.

“I’ll tell you if you make us some tea while I grab cookies.”

“Deal,” Keyleth replied, looking over her shoulder. Vax looked exhausted. She almost faltered for a moment, but then he raised and headed towards the door, and Keyleth decided to follow him.

Keyleth loved the quietness of the house where the only sounds were the boiling water in the kettle and Vax plating homemade cookies for them. They moved around each other in the kitchen so effortlessly that one would think they were a pair of professional dancers who could lead each other with their eyes closed in perfect synchrony. Trinket raised his head and sniffed the air when they returned to the bedroom with hot mugs of tea and a plateful of cookies, but Keyleth tutted at him, reminding the dog that he was not allowed sweets. She took the side of the bed closest to the wall and held the blanket open for Vax to join her, which he did without hesitation.

“Trinket, come,” Keyleth patted the blanket at the end of her bed. The dog looked up at the pair sitting with their backs against the headboard under the blankets and leaped from his bed to Keyleth’s. He spun three times and curled up at their feet with a sigh. “What a rough life you live,” Keyleth joked. With a plate of assorted homemade cookies on her lap—from where Vax bashfully grabbed a chocolate chip cookie—a steaming mug of honey lavender tea warming her hands, and Vax’s warmth pressed against her side under her blankets, it was the perfect cozy mood for long, deep talks. 

“This feels nice,” Vax said, using his half-bitten cookie to point at the string lights around the top of the walls. That had been Keyleth’s doing.

“It’s cozy.”

Vax finished his cookie and looked at the plate on Keyleth’s lap, “I have to warn you, it’s not a pretty story, and you might change your mind about me towards the end.”

“I doubt it,” Keyleth slapped Vax’s hand as he went for a butter cookie. Instead, she handed him a coconut one. “But go on, tell me your deepest and darkest secrets, Vax’ildan,” She half-joked, looking at him. 

“You asked,” Vax shrugged. He bit into the cookie and hummed. Keyleth nodded as if to say, see? “It all started when my mom was 18. She lived in a small town in the south called Byroden. My father was passing by on a business trip and stopped for the night, as travelers usually do. He and his buddies went out for a drink and my mother just happened to be the barmaid on service that night.”

“She was so young,” Keyleth interrupted. Vax nodded. 

“She had just graduated high school. She grew up poor, so college was not in the plans. My father took a liking to her, it seems. They spent the night together and he left the next morning without so much as a goodbye. My mom only knew his name because she had heard the other men say it. A few months later, she found out she was pregnant. She found my father’s contact to tell him, and the bastard had the audacity to say…” Vax paused. He chewed on his lip for a moment, then finally said with growing rage, “The asshole had the audacity to say he had serious doubts it was true, that my mom was trying to bait him for money, and if she did had gotten herself knocked up—his words exactly—how was she so sure it was his and not some random guy she fucked.”

Hearing that, Keyleth dropped her cookie in her tea. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah,” Vax shrugged. His head was bowed low, avoiding eye contact. “The bastard told me that himself.”

“What a fucking asshole,” Keyleth grumbled, fishing the soggy cookie from her tea with a spoon. “What a fucking, bastard, shit-eating asshole.”

Vax chuckled. “Oh, Kiki,” He shook his head. “Just hold on tightly to that rage. I haven’t gotten anywhere near the worst yet.”

“You don’t have to keep going,” Keyleth bumped Vax’s shoulder with hers. She had known Vax long enough to recognize the signs of withdrawal, and the last thing she wanted was to regress once they had become so comfortable and vulnerable with each other. Keyleth watched Vax silently set the empty plate and mugs on her nightstand. She didn’t balk when he arched an arm behind her shoulders, and Keyleth definitely did not stop Vax from pulling her so close that her legs were practically curled on his thigh. Keyleth counted their synchronous breaths, looking at Vax’s hand on his lap, fumbling with the tassels of her blanket. 

One. Vax twisted the green tassel between his index finger and thumb. Two. His hand stopped. Three. Vax turned his head to look at her in the eyes—the pain made Keyleth want to scream. Four. Vax’s arm moved to Keyleth’s lap, where she twisted and turned her hands on the tassels. Five. He grabbed hold of one of her hands and tugged it free. Six. Vax brought their joined hands to his lap and intertwined their fingers. Seven. Both their gazes were fixed on their hands, Vax’s thumb grazing softly against the palm of Keyleth’s hand. Eight. A pause. Nine. Vax opened his mouth.

Ten. “My mother died when we were ten and we were forced to live with him. We ran away when we were fifteen. He almost killed Vex’ahlia.” 

Vax was crying. His tears slid down his eyes and onto Keyleth’s cheek. She didn’t speak, didn’t move, barely breathed. 

“My mom got sick. The town doctor couldn’t do much, and we couldn’t afford to take her to a big city doctor or pay for treatment. She died within six months of finding out.” Keyleth’s face grew wetter the more Vax spoke about his mother. Vax’ildan paused to look at her, and his face contorted into more pain as he released her hand and cradled her cheek. “I’m sorry, Kiki. I can stop talking about it,” Vax apologized. Only then did Keyleth realize the wetness in her face was not just from Vax’s tears but her own as well.

“I’m okay,” She whispered, sniffling. Keyleth leaned into his touch. Vax was so warm and smelled like tea and cookies. “I’ll listen to as much as you want to share.”

A sigh and a kiss on the forehead had Keyleth melt further into Vax’s warmth. He continued sharing his story in a hushed voice as he leaned his brow against Keyleth.

“We were taken to Syngorn, to our father’s estate, by the authorities because my mom had no other family. Our grandparents had died and she had no siblings, so our father was all we had left, and he earned our full custody. We weren’t allowed to bring more than a backpack of clothes and a few belongings. We arrived in Syngorn the day after we buried our mother but my father refused to take us in. He denied knowing about our existence and informed the officer that he would only take us with a positive paternity test. For a week, Vex’ahlia and I were separated into two different foster families in the city until the results came and our father was forced to take us in. It was the first time Vex and I had been separated since we were born, and it was the hardest week of our lives until that time.

“It’s funny. I always laugh at people who tell me to go to hell because I’ve been there. My father made our lives a living hell. We found out that he was part of a big conservative family, rich as the eyes could see, and having children out of wedlock was highly frowned upon. His family refused to accept us. He refused to accept us. For the first few months, we didn’t see him. My sister and I were assigned a maid each to tend to our needs, and then we were forced to attend etiquette classes. The first time we saw our father since we moved in, he threatened to kick us out onto the street if we didn’t do what he told us. He forced us to attend those etiquette classes to make us more ‘civilized’,” Vax spat the word with disdain, “and we were forced to adopt Syngorn’s customs, including changing our accent and wearing Syngorn’s fashion.”

Vax took another pause. Keyleth gave his hand a quick squeeze in reassurance, just in case he thought she had fallen asleep. Her face was still scrunched against Vax’s shoulder, where a large wet stain formed from her tears. It took a moment for Keyleth’s brain to click with what Vax had said, but when she did, she raised her head, eyes glimmering with curiosity, and asked, “Wait. Did you have a different accent before?” Vax nodded. Keyleth’s face opened in a mischievous smile that was enough for Vax to anticipate what Keyleth was about to ask because he quickly stopped her from saying anything else. “No, I will not use it. I don’t even know if I remember it. It’s been so long, Kiki.”

“Oh. Well… You’re safe with me. I won’t think less of you for it. You know… in case you suddenly remember what it sounded like,” Keyleth batted her eyelashes at Vax in a lousy attempt to flirt with him.

Vax chuckled. The sound was enough to inflate Keyleth’s heart like a balloon. He wiped the tears from her face, then his, and then broke the hold he had on her. Keyleth watched him go into the bathroom and close the door. She blocked out all sounds that came next, brought her knees to her chest, and dropped her head on them, thinking. She had known the twins' story wouldn’t be pleasant. She had seen the few trinkets on Vax’s desk and the emptiness of their wardrobes, but had never considered that it would be this hard. Even though she lived most of her life without her mother, Keyleth still had her father’s love, her grandparents, her village. She hadn’t been alone, not like the twins had. And their father… How could someone be so hateful towards their children? They were so young, barely older than Keyleth when her mother died. They were suffering the loss of everything they knew and were forced to live with someone who not just plainly rejected them but who also did nothing to disguise their hatred for them. What a fucking asshole.

Keyleth was still deep into thought when Vax exited the bathroom. She only noticed him when he stopped by the foot of her bed to ruffle Trinket’s head, and then she followed him as he approached her bed and sat by her side again, where Vax bit his lower lip bashfully, avoiding eye contact with her. “Yes?” Keyleth asked. Vax hemmed and hawed, but finally, with his gaze still firmly set on her blanket, he asked, “Do you want to… can we–” He hesitated.

“You can ask me anything,” Keyleth said, laying a reassuring hand on his knee. Vax nodded and mustered the courage to look at her between his eyelids. His cheeks were flushed red, and his voice wavered as he asked, “Can we cuddle?” 

Oh. Keyleth smiled. Please, that’s all I want. “Sure,” She said. Vax scooted closer to the middle of the bed and opened his arms to let Keyleth in. She sat sideways on his lap, legs curled up, and Vax wrapped one arm around her back and brought the other between them, where he intertwined his fingers with Keyleth’s. She finally let her head rest on his shoulder, right on the stupid wet spot of her tears, and Vax lowered his head to hers. 

“Do you… do you want to hear the rest?” He asked.

“Of course, if you’re okay with sharing.” 

“It might make you hate me,” Vax tensed. Keyleth shook her head as much as she could without bothering Vax and replied, “I doubt it. Nothing would make me hate you, Vax.” Nothing would make me stop loving you, is what she didn’t say.

Vax squeezed her tighter, as if he was trying to hold on to that hope, and continued his story. “I tried, for a while, but nothing I did seemed to be good enough for my father, and then he married. She is a good woman, kind and caring. She was always good to me and my sister, always made sure we were well-fed and cleaned. She wasn’t a mother figure, though, but neither of us was interested in replacing our mom with someone else. After the marriage, my father became worse, even stricter in his rules and assessments of our behavior and learnings. I stopped trying, then. I realized that no matter how many hours I put into studying or how many diction classes I had, I would never be good enough for him because he didn’t expect me to ever reach his unrealistic standards.

“So I started skipping classes, and I refused to change my accent and wear the clothes he wanted me to wear. As a punishment, my father ordered all of our clothes to be burned, so Vex and I were forced to wear what he wanted. I was barely older than eleven the first time he hit me when I refused to use his posh accent at an important dinner with his snob friends. He dragged me by the collar of my shirt to his office in front of everyone and slapped me across the face. He threatened that if I didn’t right myself, he would kick me and my sister out.” Keyleth shuddered hearing how badly Vax’s father treated him. Vax only squeezed her tighter, more for her comfort than his, and he kept talking, “I started sneaking out of the house when I was twelve. If Vex knew, she never said anything… at least not at first. I started hanging out with some shitty people back then and did things I’m not proud of. Vex found out when I came home one night with a black eye from a brawl. She scolded me until my ears bled and made me promise her I wouldn’t return to that place. I kept my promise but I still sneaked out at night, and I never told Vex where I went, in case my father found out. We have a sister, you know?” Vax paused.

Keyleth looked up at him, warmth immediately rising to her cheeks from the proximity of their mouths. It would be so easy to kiss him, but that was not the right moment. “You do?”

“Her name is Velora. She was barely a year old when we left.” Vax’s expression was filled with sorrow and guilt. 

“Is that when…” Keyleth asked, remembering what Vax had said earlier, He almost killed Vex’ahlia. Vax nodded.

“It was one of the nights I sneaked out. He went looking for me, surely to punish me for whatever I did that day but found my room empty. He thought Vex knew where I was and was lying to cover my ass, so he–” Vax curled himself, burying his face in Keyleth’s neck. He was shaking so hard that Keyleth wrapped her arms around him and caressed his back affectionately.

“It’s okay. We can stop whenever you want.”

Keyleth’s shoulder became wet through her t-shirt. She kissed the top of Vax’s head with her eyes closed, taking in his scent and the warmth of his wet breath against her skin. She had never been a violent person, had never felt hatred, but at that moment, she knew she could kill the man for all he put his children through if she ever laid eyes on him. She allowed Vax to gather his thoughts, switching from rubbing his back to caressing his head, placing soft kisses to his crown and temple in between. 

The weight on Keyleth’s stomach lifted as Vax’s shakes subsided. He took two long breaths, and once he finally calmed enough, Vax uncoiled from her embrace, wiped his tears, and said in a shaky, wet voice, “He called me into his office the next morning. He said a bunch of shit to me that I still repeat in my head today. I decided I was done and wanted out, so I planned our escape while my sister healed, and when she was good to move, we ran away during the night. Vex wanted to bring Velora, but I told her we couldn’t. It was the hardest decision I ever made, to leave my baby sister behind, but she was safe. She was planned and wanted. She’s safe,” Vax repeated as if he was trying to convince himself more than anything.

“So we were two fifteen-year-olds, lost in the woods with nowhere to go. We eventually made it to a town in the middle of nowhere where we worked odd jobs here and there, helping in the farms or whatever we could do to earn money to buy a bus ticket north. We found our way to Emon after a while, but again, we had nowhere to stay and were running out of money, so we lived out in the streets. It was harder to find jobs here. No one trusted a pair of dirty children like us, so we resorted to finding other ways to feed ourselves. Vex used her charming gifts to get us day-old bread and food from the stores, I would sneak in whatever I could. Only whatever was enough to feed us and then him.” Vax nodded at Trinket, who was sleeping peacefully like he had no worries in the world. 

“We got robbed one night and lost all our money. I couldn’t do anything to stop it from happening. I failed my sister the night my father—I failed Velora by leaving her behind. And I failed us both the night we got robbed. I made a vow to never fail Vex again, so I started stealing money from passersby until we had enough to get us going again. I only stole small amounts, only whatever I could muster that they wouldn’t realize they had been pickpocketed.” Vax lowered his head in shame, “I’m not proud of it.”

Keyleth cradled Vax’s face in her hands, “Is that why you think I would hate you?” He nodded, but before he could say anything else, Keyleth said, “You did it to ensure your sister’s safety, not for greed, Vax. I would never, ever hate you for taking care of her, of yourself… You did what you had to do to survive.”

“What if I told you I killed someone?”

Keyleth shuddered. Her hands fell from Vax’s face and scrunched up the blanket on her lap. Her voice shook when she spoke, “What?”

“I failed Vex’ahlia a third time, when… when that motherfucker took her. I didn’t see her for almost a year, even though she still called and texted me. She managed to convince him to let me see her one day, and I—What my father did to her… what that man also did to her—I was so angry, so desperate, I wanted to kill him right there and then, but Vex stopped me. And good thing she did. I convinced her to leave him. It took a while, but she did it. Then, one night, he found us and tried to take her again, but I didn’t allow it. I had failed her enough times. So he attacked me, and in the middle of the fight, I stabbed him with my knife and… I killed him.”

“Vax,” Keyleth’s voice wavered. He refused to meet her eyes in fear of what he would see, but she lifted his chin with a strong grip. “That was self-defense, Vax. You—” “I killed someone, Keyleth.” Vax’s shoulders started shaking. Keyleth pulled him into a hug, “No, you saved your sister.” The only response was Vax’s sobs on her shoulder, wetness spreading to match the other side. “You were protecting her. I don’t hate you, Vax. I could never hate you. You know that, right?” 

Vax shook his head just enough to say, “Why would someone even want to be with a useless failure like me?”

“You are not a failure, Vax. You had so many hardships in your life, and look where you are now. The top university in the continent, in the most coveted degree. Do you know how hard it is to get into Emon University, not to mention into Medicine? You’re top three in your class, Vax. You work so hard, and you’re such a nice, kind and caring person. You are not a failure. You are not useless.” Keyleth stopped, pushed him away enough to look into his eyes, and said assertively, “Do you really think no one wants you? I’ve seen the way Gilmore looks at you, Vax.” Vax chuckled a smile, “Besides… I’m sure there’s someone else out there who would want you,” Like me. 

“You think so?” Vax asked tentatively.

“I know so.” Keyleth wiped his tears away with her thumbs, remaining the hold of his face in her grasp.

“Keeks,” Vax looked bashfully.

“Yes?”

“Do you want to go out with me?” Vax asked, biting his lip nervously. Keyleth was taken aback by the abruptness of the question.

“As in–a date?” Her heart was beating so fast in her chest that Keyleth thought it was going to jump out of her throat. Vax nodded. Keyleth swallowed a nervous squeal. 

After everything that had happened that night, Vax still wanted to go out on a date with her, and even more, the fact that he asked her out after he was so vulnerable with her… Keyleth thought she was going to throw up the cookies and tea right on Vax’s lap from how hard her stomach leaped. She wanted this, right? A date… with Vax? She wanted him, and it was obvious he wanted her, for some gods damned reason. Even though she still shuddered at the idea of being in a romantic relationship with someone–of being loved by someone–the image of Vax’s arms around her, the feel of his breath on her lips, and the way he cared for her weren’t dreadful in the slightest. She could do it with him, right? Maybe? One step at a time, Keyleth reminded herself. First, a date, and then… then we’ll see.

“Of course,” Keyleth answered, leaning to kiss Vax’s cheek. He slumped against her, releasing a breath Keyleth hadn’t noticed he was holding, and laughed. 

“I thought you were going to say no for a second there, Kiki.”

“Sorry. You caught me off guard,” She apologized. Vax shook his head and squeezed her.

“Thank you for telling me,” Keyleth brushed a hand on Vax’s hair, and when he looked at her confused, Keyleth clarified, “About your life. Everything that happened with your mom and your father.”

“Oh. I–There’s still more, but I’m drained.” Keyleth nodded in understanding. She lowered her hands to her lap and her head to avoid Vax’s gaze and mumbled, “Will you stay tonight?”

“Do you want me to stay?” Keyleth gave a short nod, still not looking at him. “I’ll stay. I hope Pike and Vex don’t kill me.”

“They won’t,” Keyleth said, moving out of Vax’s lap. “I’ll be right back,” She said as she got up and headed into the bathroom. When Keyleth returned, Trinket was back on Vex’s bed, curled against the pillows, and Vax was lying on her bed, under her comforter, with a hand behind his head on her pillow. Keyleth stumbled at the sight, at the smirk on Vax’s face as he opened the covers to let her in—she would have to climb over him to reach the other side—and patted the bed next to him invitingly. Keyleth looked him up and down, from his head to his bare feet, back to his head. She didn’t realize she was biting her lip until she felt the coppery taste of blood from her wound, which she immediately wiped with a tissue from her nightstand.

“Are you okay?” Vax asked, concerned, seeing her dab at her lip. Keyleth nodded and threw the slightly bloodied tissue into the trashcan by her nightstand. She then climbed over Vax’s feet and lay down facing him. Vax covered them and turned to his side, setting one arm on the mattress between him and Keyleth. She looked at it, her eyes drifting from his tanned, strong hands—how she would love to feel them on her skin—to where the tattoo of a raven peeked from the inside of his forearm, to his relaxed bicep. Keyleth’s gaze drifted up to Vax’s shoulder, which tensed as he followed her gaze, to the vein popping on his neck—that Keyleth wished to kiss and bite and feel the rushed beating of his heart there against her lips—to Vax’s jawline, his chiseled cheeks, his uncovered, pierced ears. Keyleth let her eyes linger on every beautiful feature of Vax’s face as if she needed to commit every single detail to memory so she could draw his portrait afterward—never mind the fact she couldn’t draw people even if her life depended on it. She smiled as she finally found his chapped lips that looked so inviting, even more so when Vax, too, smiled as Keyleth’s gaze lingered and as she mindlessly licked her lips.

Keyleth didn’t speak, and neither did Vax. Eventually, their gazes met, drifting ever so slowly to each other. The air turned far too warm under the covers, and they both held their breaths as they saw their own need reflected in the other’s eyes. It wasn’t a physical need as much as an emotional connection, at least to Keyleth. She wouldn’t deny the different desire she had felt the past weeks, but that wasn’t the foremost need that she wanted Vax to fill—that she knew only Vax could fill. Keyleth released her breath slowly as if she was afraid to scare him, like Vax was a skittish cat, and let her hand slide to the bed, a mere hairline from touching Vax’s hand where it still lay on the mattress. To Keyleth’s shock, who hadn’t heard him release the breath from before, Vax inhaled deeply, and even though his eyes never left hers, Keyleth knew he was aware of the distance that separated them and how easy it would be to transcend it. 

Keyleth’s body buzzed in anticipation at what the touch would feel like. Would it be warm or cold? Soft or rough from Vax’s calloused hands? Would it be sturdy or shaky from nerves? Would Vax intertwine their fingers, or would he pull away? Would it make his heart skip a beat like hers did in that moment? 

There’s only one way to find out, Vax’s eyes all but said. If someone told Keyleth that Vax had read her mind, she would have believed them because it was either that or that the desperation she felt for his touch was plainly written in her eyes, and that would be embarrassing. It was true, nonetheless. There was only one way to find out. So Keyleth moved by lacing her fingers with Vax’s and took in the layers of his reaction: a slight twitch of his fingers as she wrapped her hand around his; the release of tension on Vax’s shoulders; a shuddering breath; the drooping in his eyes as the man finally relaxed. Keyleth smiled lovingly, knowing he couldn’t see her with his eyes closed. She contemplated letting her own eyes shut, but Vax looked so calm and relaxed that Keyleth felt compelled to remain awake, to observe him and drink in all his features.

“You’re staring at me,” Vax spoke, opening one eye. 

“Sorry,” Keyleth apologized bashfully. Vax brought their hands to his lips and kissed each one of Keyleth’s knuckles. He didn’t say anything, didn’t return their hands to where they had been between them. Vax merely looked at Keyleth for a while, until she finally returned his words, “You’re staring at me.”

“Because you’re beautiful,” Vax let go of their hands and opened his arms. “Come here,” He called. Like a sailor, Keyleth obeyed his call, shimmying her body until her head was on the crook of Vax’s neck and their arms around each other’s torsos. Vax kissed her forehead softly and nuzzled against her hair.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Keyleth felt, more than heard Vax say. She nodded against his skin and replied, “I had singing lessons when I was young. I didn’t know you could play guitar.”

“The only good thing my father did besides siring me and my sister was force us to have music lessons. I refused the piano, and since Vex was already taking classes, my father didn’t care what other instrument I picked.”

“I’ve never seen a guitar in your bedroom,” Keyleth pointed out. Vax’s sigh against the top of her head tickled her. 

“When we were robbed, even after I started stealing money, it wasn’t enough, so we had to sell a few things, mostly jewels we still had from our father, but even then… Vex’ahlia wanted to sell her bow, and it would have gotten us decent money for a while, but I couldn’t do that to her. She loves archery more than words can describe. So I sold my guitar to buy a knife.”

“The one in your nightstand?” Keyleth asked softly. Vax nodded. She let it sink in, the sacrifice he had made—all the sacrifices Vax had made—to protect his sister. She knew that even though it benefitted both, Vax had done it for his twin more than for himself. His stupid, selfless heart that he still didn’t see.

“I’m sorry you had to sell your guitar. You’re a great brother, Vax.”

“Hmm,” Was all Vax said as he nuzzled further against Keyleth’s hair. Her heart warmed at the feeling of him this close to her, even though it wasn’t the first time they shared a bed. 

“It feels different,” Keyleth whispered, voicing out her thoughts. 

“Hm?”

“Us. It feels different. Has been for a while.”

“It is different,” Vax mumbled and kissed the top of her head. “I like it.”

“Me too,” was all Keyleth said as she nuzzled against Vax’s neck.

The slow and steady beating of Vax’s heart worked like a metronome setting the cadence for her own heart. The rise and fall of Vax’s chest underneath her hand lulled Keyleth into such a deep sense of relaxation that she didn’t even realize the heavy weight of her eyelids had finally won the battle against wanting to keep observing Vax’s beauty. Keyleth drifted off to sleep with the scent of Vax wrapping around her, calming her. Maybe for the first time in months, Keyleth slept through the entire night, waking up the next morning to the sounds of voices in the house and the smell of cooking creeping from underneath her bedroom door. Maybe for the first time in a while, Keyleth didn’t wake up scared in the middle of the night from a haunting nightmare, but even if she had, Vax would have been there to hold her through it, to kiss her head and whisper sweet, reassuring words in her ear. And perhaps, it was with the knowledge of that being true that Keyleth allowed herself a moment of restfulness and happiness.

[gallusrostromegalus]

IIRC, you were in academia, yeah? My Evolution professor is *requiring* use of ChatGPT to review for our exams, and I don't know how to say "are you out of your mind" and "I'm not paying $500 a credit for this" without devolving into a sludge of incomprehensible rage. Do you have any advice as to how I could handle this?

NGL, Using AI sounds like a legal liability for the university. I'll open this one to the floor to people who have more experience with explaining why we don't us AI for stuff, but this is absolutely something to take to the dean and be a huge pain in the ass about.

[multifandomimagin3s]

Reader sits on their face and breaks their neck - 141, Los Vaqueros + König

requested by @daniel-meyer-03 contains sexual content (obvs), minors dni

Simon “Ghost” Riley

He always encourages you to put your whole weight onto his face - doesn't matter what size you are, he loves being smothered by your thighs.

His tongue is lapping your wetness like a man starved, when he mis-times his movements completely, feeling his neck go 'pop.'

He halts his movements with a grunt, head falling flat against the mattress; you raise yourself back off his face so sit at his side, as his hand comes up to cradle the back of his neck.

"Ah shit, that doesn't feel good."

He'd be pissy in the ambulance, purely because he wasn't allowed to put his balaclava on before he left and he's not happy about the Paramedics seeing his face.

Since he's legally dead, I reckon Price would have to pull some strings to get him seen in a private hospital to try and keep things hush hush.

He would be a grumpy guy when he has to wear one of those neck supports for the next few weeks," I look like a twat."

Isn't annoyed at you in the slightest - in fact it's quite the opposite, you had to tell him 'no' more than once when he suggested you sit on his face again, neck brace be damned.

"Would be a hell of a way to die, Love."

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

This would probably one of many sex-related injuries he's had in the past.

Pulled his hamstring and a few muscles in his back one night when you two were really going at it.

Slipped during shower sex and almost took you to the ground with him.

Has banged his head off the headboard during missionary more times than you can count.

So it's fair to say that considering he's in the SAS, he's really accident prone.

Would wear the neck brace with pride, wouldn’t care if the team took the piss out of him for it - and for how he got injured in the process.

Even when his neck was in agony, he couldn't stop smiling.

"Considering how this happened in the first place, cannae really complain, Darlin'."

If he felt any awkwardness he didn't show it - even in the Emergency Department, he wasn't shy when he was asked how he hurt himself, which made you flush bright red each time.

Would probably act like a big baby when he'd given medical leave.

Being able to just be with you, cuddling and spending time together, was amazing - and he'd been given 6 weeks off, so he was going to enjoy every second of it.

Oh, and like Ghost, he absolutely wouldn't be deterred by the experience in the slightest.

But is maybe a bit more mindful to put a pillow under his neck the next time he asks you to sit on his face.

Captain John Price

I reckon his neck is probably fucked already - like the muscles in his neck get so tight that sometimes he struggles to turn his head.

It's the norm for him.

But when he feels a sudden pop sensation just above his nape, he knows that something isn't right.

Probably would have encouraged you to continue riding his face if it wasn't for the intense pain shooting up his neck.

Would refuse to go to the hospital - "I've had worse on the field, Love, I'll be fine."

It wasn't until you pushed him into going for an x-ray that he realised he'd actually injured himself.

Wouldn't tell a soul what happened - not even the Doctors.

His private life stays just that - private.

Would grumble like an old man when he has to put the supportive collar on; "I look like a bloody dog when it's had its knackers cut off..."

Also wouldn't be annoyed at you at all - in fact, he promises that as soon as he's given the all clear to stop wearing "this bloody thing" he wants you back on his face.

Captains orders ~

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Mans is just confused as fuck.

One minute you're riding his face, his hands on your ass guiding your movements.

The next he's in agony - and then in an ambulance.

It isn't until a Doctor reviews his x-rays with him that he finally clicks on to what happened.

You rode his face...and broke his neck.

The realisation has him breaking into a fit of laughter - which mildly concerns the clinical staff.

He's in the military, risks his life on the regular - and the worst injury he's gained so far is from oral.

He's honestly nearly pissing himself from laughter, which makes you laugh too.

The neck brace doesn't even bother him one bit - the medical leave is a bonus in his eyes because he gets to spend more quality time with you.

Doesn't tell the Team how it happened - but Soap put the pieces together in his head, and is clapping Gaz on the back with booming laughter at the realisation.

"Fuckin' hell mate, that's one way tae do it!"

Alejandro Vargas

Like Soap, he's a bit too happy considering the situation he's in.

He's a passionate man, so getting an injury during sex doesn't bother him at all.

Usually he's very co-ordinated and he definitely knows what he's doing in the bedroom.

So fuck knows how he managed to practically break his neck whilst you were riding his face.

One wrong jerky move of his head and the next - searing pain.

Also is a grumpy guy when he's wearing the neck brace.

Would definitely play on it a bit, giving you the big brown puppy dog eyes so you'd give him more cuddles and affection; "Mi Amor, it hurts less when you're by my side ~"

Definitely would still try and initiate sex despite being told to take it easy.

Would happily let you ride him on the couch - his typical positions weren't on the cards but any angle he gets of your amazing body brings him bliss.

Gets the brace off...and probably injures himself again because he was a bit too eager to finish what he started.

Rudy Parra

Like his comrade, he's also a very passionate lover.

Apparently, a bit too passionate.

Which is why he was currently sat on your couch, arms crossed over his chest with a slightly annoyed expression.

He's not annoyed at you - he's annoyed that he didn't get to finish what he started.

Rudy was having the time of his life, smothered between your thighs, and he probably would've kept going had it not been you that hurriedly hopped off his face when he let out a pained groan.

Would probably try and convince you to let him continue where you left off.

But the hospital staff would probably be less impressed if he ended up back in the Emergency Department because he hurt himself further.

So he waits...impatiently.

As soon as the Doctor gives him the all clear, he practically dives between your legs.

He has to make up for lost time ;)

König

The poor guy is mortified - he’s not angry at you, not one bit, but that trip to the hospital is one that he’ll never forget.

Doesn’t like social situations, or hospitals for that matter, so being in a busy A&E department really was making him feel gradually worse by the minute.

That and he still had a bit of a *ahem* problem since your activities got interrupted.

Wearing a neck brace wouldn't bother him too much - as long as he can still wear his hood, he's happy.

Speaking of which, imagine the poor doctors trying to persuade him to take it off so they can examine his neck.

Thankfully he doesn't have to go on-base wearing the support - he'd probably die of embarrassment if Horangi found out what exactly happened, because then the entire base would find out no doubt.

Somehow, his comrade finds out anyways, and texts his friend some thumbs up emojis; "Way to go, big guy, best way to end up in the ER ;)"

After he gets the brace off and has to take it easy for a bit he'd be a bit sad since having you sitting on his face is his all time favourite position :(

Still, he improvises - and when he has your knees pressed to your chest and his mouth is writing the alphabet between your thighs, you would never complain ~

[koishua]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 ━━━ 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

genre: angst.

length: less than 0.600k words

caution: a take on grief and loss of someone close to you.

synopsis: he dies twice, yet his heart still beats painfully.

special thanks to my beloved, the sexc sexc talented incredible brilliant showstopping user @torhues for biting the bullet and taste testing this for me!! mayhaps my brain twin, despite our opposing opinions on hee's suffering. confirmed this is the only genre i can write

feedback and reblogs are desperately craved <3

lee heeseung has died twice in the long and arduous twenty-two years of his life. once, he had died when he'd lost his voice, abandoned and left stranded in a world where all people ever expected from him was that exact thing. the second time— the second thing he'd lost— had been the greater piece of his being.

his first death was somehow less painful than the second. it had been quicker to mellow out, the pain easier to soothe when you were there. heeseung experienced his first death with you by his side, holding his hand and sharing his tears. dreams he'd built, the work of what seemed to be his entire life. his first death felt much like a bullet did. 

it burned, seared, bled and struck him faster than he could blink. the death of an artist's ability to create should have crippled him, and yet, it hadn't. you'd been right by him, held his wound and breathed air into him. you were his second life.

and you were, subsequently, his second death.

this one had hurt much more than the first. heeseung would come to describe this as the moment his heart and flesh had been ripped away from him, his soul following suit. that, however, would not be enough to describe how it truly felt. the second time was so, so much more than just a death.

this one, this one was not as merciful as the quick bullet that was the loss of his most beloved possession and passion. this death was a loss of his entire reason for living. this time, the pain hadn't ebbed away as easily. this time, the pain had settled deep inside his chest, an ache damned to stay there for as long as the heart buried inside of him would beat, no matter how cold and blue the blood that ran in his veins seemed. this pain would leave him paralyzed, the fight in him lost, not even bothering to claw for the air and oxygen his lungs desperately craved. 

his second death had suffocated him from inside out. still, his blood, cold and blue, continued to run through his veins and somehow still functioning heart. you were his second attempt at life and you were his second death. you still haunt the corners of his mind, still hold a hand on his throat, each thought of you making your ghostly grip on him tighten to the point where he nears the edge of no return (he doesn't fight you back— doesn't have the heart to, when all he wants is to follow where you've gone to).

lee heeseung had died twice in the twenty-two years of his life, but had never been able to live for the third time. how could he? he'd lost himself in the waves right after you'd left. years would pass by and he'd still wonder if up was down and down was up. he was a man, once with eyes that shone as bright as the stars you'd point out to him at night, who'd been reduced into someone you'd be heartbroken to see if you were around. lost between a plane where nothing but your touch, your lips, your smile, and your laugh existed and the colourless world that his body continued it's daily affairs in. eyes unseeing, skin unfeeling, ears unhearing— his second death took something much, much more precious to him than his life.

lee heeseung's second death had taken away his soul; you were so cruel for doing that to him.

[elitekook]

04:25AM

• pairing: jungkook x f!reader; established relationship

• warnings: fluff fluff fluff, cursing, making out, suggestive jokes(?), jungkook has two hoop piercings in his mouth (this is a warning in itself), they are so in love for each other

• word count: 653 (this has not been reviewed!)

One of things to date jungkook is always to be prepared to go out with him, most of time in the dawn. Anyone who knows jungkook knows very well that he can turn day into night and that's not a problem for you, far from it, getting up early with jungkook is one of your favorite things in the world to do.

"Oh, they got new flavors of ramen" he says as he browses the shelves analyzing what might be the best late-night snack flavors.

"Don't you think we should choose something else instead? I mean ramen is good but we should change the menu every now and then" you answer quietly, concentrating on holding the basket with the other things your boyfriend has already picked out.

"But the spicy ones are so good, I'd like to try the one with the extra cheese, it looks good" ignoring what you just said, jungkook places the bag of ramen into the basket as you roll your eyes in response with a smile knowing you couldn't go against his childish tastes.

After picking up all the sodium-laden snacks that jungkook couldn't pass up, you focus on seeing which drinks would be best for the occasion. That is until you feel a pair of hands circle your waist and a head land on your shoulder.

"Your ass looked way too nice from this angle and I wouldn't want the cashier looking too much." before you could answer you notice jungkook's arms tighten a little more a kiss is deposited on your neck.

jungkook always says that the cashier at this convenience is "too nice" to you, which you know, but you can't help but laugh every time he's jealous of a guy who absolutely not your type.

"Do you really think he has an eye on me? he's almost asleep in his own drool" turning to hand the basket to jungkook to hold, you chuckle at the grimace your boyfriend makes as he bites his lip piercings, a habit you find attractive.

"I don't care, this guy should have known you haven't been available for a long time" the low tone of jungkook's voice and his arm wrapping around your waist again is enough to feel your lips being captured by his.

kissing jungkook is always the same feeling as when you first kissed, the thrill of feeling the familiar butterflies in your stomach every time and be as happy to know that you are his as he is yours. Maybe that's what being in love is all about.

Feeling his tongue roll across yours, you can't help but wrap your arms around his neck and pull the strands at the back of his neck. If you could describe heaven, it would definitely be like kissing jungkook.

"fuck, i really love your mouth" jungkook whispers still with his lips close to yours not missing the opportunity to leave a peck before pulling away.

"I know" is all you say before grabbing any drink, no longer bothering to see which one would go best with ramen.

You can't get let laugh just as jungkook places the basket on top of the counter, which ends up scaring the cashier who was actually sleeping in his own drool.

"Maybe we could watch a movie when we get home" you hear jungkook say as you focus on the beeping of the products.

"We should sleep after we eat"

"Why? it's still early" you look at your boyfriend who is smiling and giggling knowing if he wanted to he could make you stay up longer.

"You're a pain in the ass" you also know he can be a pain in the ass when he wants to be.

"You don't think I'm a pain in the ass when we're home" and that's enough to tell your boyfriend to shut up before that the conversation gets too intimate in front of the cashier.

•this is an original work by @elitekook, please do not copy, translate or anything like that :)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

AI is a WMD

I'm in TARTU, ESTONIA! AI, copyright and creative workers' labor rights (TOMORROW, May 10, 8AM: Science Fiction Research Association talk, Institute of Foreign Languages and Cultures building, Lossi 3, lobby). A talk for hackers on seizing the means of computation (TOMORROW, May 10, 3PM, University of Tartu Delta Centre, Narva 18, room 1037).

Fun fact: "The Tragedy Of the Commons" is a hoax created by the white nationalist Garrett Hardin to justify stealing land from colonized people and moving it from collective ownership, "rescuing" it from the inevitable tragedy by putting it in the hands of a private owner, who will care for it properly, thanks to "rational self-interest":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/05/04/analytical-democratic-theory/#epistocratic-delusions

Get that? If control over a key resource is diffused among the people who rely on it, then (Garrett claims) those people will all behave like selfish assholes, overusing and undermaintaining the commons. It's only when we let someone own that commons and charge rent for its use that (Hardin says) we will get sound management.

By that logic, Google should be the internet's most competent and reliable manager. After all, the company used its access to the capital markets to buy control over the internet, spending billions every year to make sure that you never try a search-engine other than its own, thus guaranteeing it a 90% market share:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/21/im-feeling-unlucky/#not-up-to-the-task

Google seems to think it's got the problem of deciding what we see on the internet licked. Otherwise, why would the company flush $80b down the toilet with a giant stock-buyback, and then do multiple waves of mass layoffs, from last year's 12,000 person bloodbath to this year's deep cuts to the company's "core teams"?

https://qz.com/google-is-laying-off-hundreds-as-it-moves-core-jobs-abr-1851449528

And yet, Google is overrun with scams and spam, which find their way to the very top of the first page of its search results:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

The entire internet is shaped by Google's decisions about what shows up on that first page of listings. When Google decided to prioritize shopping site results over informative discussions and other possible matches, the entire internet shifted its focus to producing affiliate-link-strewn "reviews" that would show up on Google's front door:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/24/naming-names/#prabhakar-raghavan

This was catnip to the kind of sociopath who a) owns a hedge-fund and b) hates journalists for being pain-in-the-ass, stick-in-the-mud sticklers for "truth" and "facts" and other impediments to the care and maintenance of a functional reality-distortion field. These dickheads started buying up beloved news sites and converting them to spam-farms, filled with garbage "reviews" and other Google-pleasing, affiliate-fee-generating nonsense.

(These news-sites were vulnerable to acquisition in large part thanks to Google, whose dominance of ad-tech lets it cream 51 cents off every ad dollar and whose mobile OS monopoly lets it steal 30 cents off every in-app subscriber dollar):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2023/04/saving-news-big-tech

Now, the spam on these sites didn't write itself. Much to the chagrin of the tech/finance bros who bought up Sports Illustrated and other venerable news sites, they still needed to pay actual human writers to produce plausible word-salads. This was a waste of money that could be better spent on reverse-engineering Google's ranking algorithm and getting pride-of-place on search results pages:

https://housefresh.com/david-vs-digital-goliaths/

That's where AI comes in. Spicy autocomplete absolutely can't replace journalists. The planet-destroying, next-word-guessing programs from Openai and its competitors are incorrigible liars that require so much "supervision" that they cost more than they save in a newsroom:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/29/what-part-of-no/#dont-you-understand

But while a chatbot can't produce truthful and informative articles, it can produce bullshit – at unimaginable scale. Chatbots are the workers that hedge-fund wreckers dream of: tireless, uncomplaining, compliant and obedient producers of nonsense on demand.

That's why the capital class is so insatiably horny for chatbots. Chatbots aren't going to write Hollywood movies, but studio bosses hyperventilated at the prospect of a "writer" that would accept your brilliant idea and diligently turned it into a movie. You prompt an LLM in exactly the same way a studio exec gives writers notes. The difference is that the LLM won't roll its eyes and make sarcastic remarks about your brainwaves like "ET, but starring a dog, with a love plot in the second act and a big car-chase at the end":

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/01/how-the-writers-guild-sunk-ais-ship/

Similarly, chatbots are a dream come true for a hedge fundie who ends up running a beloved news site, only to have to fight with their own writers to get the profitable nonsense produced at a scale and velocity that will guarantee a high Google ranking and millions in "passive income" from affiliate links.

One of the premier profitable nonsense companies is Advon, which helped usher in an era in which sites from Forbes to Money to USA Today create semi-secret "review" sites that are stuffed full of badly researched top-ten lists for products from air purifiers to cat beds:

https://housefresh.com/how-google-decimated-housefresh/

Advon swears that it only uses living humans to produce nonsense, and not AI. This isn't just wildly implausible, it's also belied by easily uncovered evidence, like its own employees' Linkedin profiles, which boast of using AI to create "content":

https://housefresh.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Advon-AI-LinkedIn.jpg

It's not true. Advon uses AI to produce its nonsense, at scale. In an excellent, deeply reported piece for Futurism, Maggie Harrison Dupré brings proof that Advon replaced its miserable human nonsense-writers with tireless chatbots:

https://futurism.com/advon-ai-content

Dupré describes how Advon's ability to create botshit at scale contributed to the enshittification of clients from Yoga Journal to the LA Times, "Us Weekly" to the Miami Herald.

All of this is very timely, because this is the week that Google finally bestirred itself to commence downranking publishers who engage in "site reputation abuse" – creating these SEO-stuffed fake reviews with the help of third parties like Advon:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/03/keyword-swarming/#site-reputation-abuse

(Google's policy only forbids site reputation abuse with the help of third parties; if these publishers take their nonsense production in-house, Google may allow them to continue to dominate its search listings):

https://developers.google.com/search/blog/2024/03/core-update-spam-policies#site-reputation

There's a reason so many people believed Hardin's racist "Tragedy of the Commons" hoax. We have an intuitive understanding that commons are fragile. All it takes is one monster to start shitting in the well where the rest of us get our drinking water and we're all poisoned.

The financial markets love these monsters. Mark Zuckerberg's key insight was that he could make billions by assembling vast dossiers of compromising, sensitive personal information on half the world's population without their consent, but only if he kept his costs down by failing to safeguard that data and the systems for exploiting it. He's like a guy who figures out that if he accumulates enough oily rags, he can extract so much low-grade oil from them that he can grow rich, but only if he doesn't waste money on fire-suppression:

https://locusmag.com/2018/07/cory-doctorow-zucks-empire-of-oily-rags/

Now Zuckerberg and the wealthy, powerful monsters who seized control over our commons are getting a comeuppance. The weak countermeasures they created to maintain the minimum levels of quality to keep their platforms as viable, going concerns are being overwhelmed by AI. This was a totally foreseeable outcome: the history of the internet is a story of bad actors who upended the assumptions built into our security systems by automating their attacks, transforming an assault that wouldn't be economically viable into a global, high-speed crime wave:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/24/automation-is-magic/

But it is possible for a community to maintain a commons. This is something Hardin could have discovered by studying actual commons, instead of inventing imaginary histories in which commons turned tragic. As it happens, someone else did exactly that: Nobel Laureate Elinor Ostrom:

https://www.onthecommons.org/magazine/elinor-ostroms-8-principles-managing-commmons/

Ostrom described how commons can be wisely managed, over very long timescales, by communities that self-governed. Part of her work concerns how users of a commons must have the ability to exclude bad actors from their shared resources.

When that breaks down, commons can fail – because there's always someone who thinks it's fine to shit in the well rather than walk 100 yards to the outhouse.

Enshittification is the process by which control over the internet moved from self-governance by members of the commons to acts of wanton destruction committed by despicable, greedy assholes who shit in the well over and over again.

It's not just the spammers who take advantage of Google's lazy incompetence, either. Take "copyleft trolls," who post images using outdated Creative Commons licenses that allow them to terminate the CC license if a user makes minor errors in attributing the images they use:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/24/a-bug-in-early-creative-commons-licenses-has-enabled-a-new-breed-of-superpredator/

The first copyleft trolls were individuals, but these days, the racket is dominated by a company called Pixsy, which pretends to be a "rights protection" agency that helps photographers track down copyright infringers. In reality, the company is committed to helping copyleft trolls entrap innocent Creative Commons users into paying hundreds or even thousands of dollars to use images that are licensed for free use. Just as Advon upends the economics of spam and deception through automation, Pixsy has figured out how to send legal threats at scale, robolawyering demand letters that aren't signed by lawyers; the company refuses to say whether any lawyer ever reviews these threats:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/13/an-open-letter-to-pixsy-ceo-kain-jones-who-keeps-sending-me-legal-threats/

This is shitting in the well, at scale. It's an online WMD, designed to wipe out the commons. Creative Commons has allowed millions of creators to produce a commons with billions of works in it, and Pixsy exploits a minor error in the early versions of CC licenses to indiscriminately manufacture legal land-mines, wantonly blowing off innocent commons-users' legs and laughing all the way to the bank:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/02/commafuckers-versus-the-commons/

We can have an online commons, but only if it's run by and for its users. Google has shown us that any "benevolent dictator" who amasses power in the name of defending the open internet will eventually grow too big to care, and will allow our commons to be demolished by well-shitters:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/04/teach-me-how-to-shruggie/#kagi

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/05/09/shitting-in-the-well/#advon

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

Catherine Poh Huay Tan (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/68166820@N08/49729911222/

Laia Balagueró (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/lbalaguero/6551235503/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[stllmnstr]

sacred monsters [teaser!]

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

teaser word count: 1.7k

teaser warnings: swearing

release date: saturday, august 3, 10 PM EST

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

note: this fic is my BABYYY so I really hope it’s well received and you all have a good time with it. it’s probably no surprise that still monster is one of my absolute favorite enha songs, and this story is essentially (my interpretation of) it in written form. this is going to be a multi-part story, and as of right now, the first part is almost ready to share. for now, enjoy this snippet!

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Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh. 

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer. 

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity. 

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional. 

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes. 

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice. 

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips. 

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim. 

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete,  well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features. 

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday. 

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task. 

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed. 

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening. 

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door. 

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in. 

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day. 

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips. 

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance. 

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person. 

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you. 

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?” 

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe. 

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came. 

Heesung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it. 

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches. 

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost. 

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you. 

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway. 

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to. 

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes. 

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego. 

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.” 

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now. 

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly. 

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life. 

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heesung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all. 

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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note: thanks for checking out this little snippet! I can't wait to share the full first part soon. this one is going to be so much fun I'm buzzing already. I don't have a tag list, but I will most likely update this post and reblog it once I have a confirmed release date. like I said in the note at the beginning, I'm anticipating it will be ready to go by this sunday (august 4 EST) at the latest. woo!

[vee-nyx]

im back with the tony hatred so let’s review all the ways he’s been an asshole to literally EVERY avenger, in chronological order:

his missiles killed wanda’s parents (and countless other parents but apparently filial revenge is only justified for himself)

treated nat like shit in im2

joked about taking over thor’s home & forcing the women to sleep with him (AoU tony they could never make me like you)

strong-armed bruce into helping him build a murderous A.I.

his robots killed wanda’s brother

forced the rest of the team to take responsibility for the repercussions of HIS A.I.

hey remember how he forced bruce to help him build a murderbot? now he’s gonna be friends with ross, the guy who wanted to turn bruce into a U.S. government weapon!

had steve & sam arrested for breaking a law that tony himself proceeded to break the next day

ordered vision to shoot sam out of the sky and then shot him in the chest at point-blank range

snitched to ross about clint’s family (he was explicitly told not to involve them)

ghosted half the team for THREE YEARS and then yelled at steve for not following him into literal space at the drop of a hat

and that’s not even counting the manipulative behavior towards peter & straight-up refusal to acknowledge his father’s role in bucky’s torture. oh also since sokovia was his fault, everything that zemo did in civil war was ALSO his fault! t’challa & bucky deserved to absolutely kick his loser ass for all the pain his actions caused them!

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 1, Unarmed - Pt. 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Mild language, Bucky and Reader being Tolkien nerds, light fluff, mention of rabies (it's a super scary disease and we should all be vigilant, okay?!)

Word Count: 1.6k

Previously On...: You just had the pleasure of meeting the very handsome Bucky Barnes. Despite a little bit of awkwardness during your first encounter, you have a feeling your life is about to get a lot more interesting now that he's been introduced into it.

A/N: You know what? I said I wasn't going to do this, but I thought "fuck it!" and decided to post all of Chapter 1: Unarmed. My anxiety is too high to just sit on it. So, please enjoy Ch1. Pt2! Pts 3 & 4 to follow!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

The next evening, you were making your way back to your suite after a productive, albeit exhausting, day in your lab. You were working on a crisis prediction real-time monitoring system to anticipate global threats. You were convinced it would allow the Avengers to respond to trouble faster, but perfecting the privacy algorithm had been an absolute pain in the ass, and you still hadn't gotten it quite right. Technically, you could have farmed the project off to a subordinate; hell, even a team of subordinates of a subordinate, but this was one of your pet projects and you insisted on being hands-on in its development.

You had your tablet open as you walked, chewing on your thumb and reviewing the dataset from the run of your latest algorithm model one more time. Closer, but not good enough. If you were going to convince Tony that this was a program worth implementing, especially at its projected cost, everything had to be perfect. "Damn it," you muttered to yourself.

You rounded the corner and ran smack into Bucky's chest, dropping your tablet and causing him to drop the three books he'd been holding under his remaining arm. "Oh, shit-- I'm so sorry," you uttered as you bent down to retrieve the dropped items. Bucky leaned down to assist you, but you waved him off.

"’S my fault; I've got it," you told him, piling up his books for him. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

Bucky leaned up against the wall and chuckled while you stood up and handed the books back to him. "I doubt you could hurt me," he said, smiling softly. "No offense."

You let out a small laugh. "None taken." He was a super soldier, after all. Stealing a glance at book spines, you couldn't suppress the smile that crossed your face. "Lord of the Rings," you nodded appreciatively. "Have you read them before?"

Bucky looked down at the books tucked under his arm. "No, first time. I read The Hobbit back when it was first published in '37, but these didn't come out until after..." he trailed off, but you knew what he meant. After he'd been abducted and brainwashed, turned into a murderer.

You nodded in understanding. "I'm actually really excited for you," you told him. "What I wouldn't give to be able to read them again for the first time."

"You a Tolkien fan, then?" he asked you. When you nodded, he continued: "When I finish them, maybe we can talk about them sometime? Steve's not really into fantasy."

"Yeah, I'd like that," you said. "If you're interested, we could watch the movies. I'll warn you though; they're long as hell, but their masterpieces. I mean, they didn't need to turn The Hobbit into three separate films, but still, they'll blow your fucking mind."

Bucky ran his tongue over his lower lip and you couldn't help but follow the motion with your eyes. "That sounds like fun," he said, his eyes twinkling with... something. "Your place or mine?" Was he… flirting with you?

"How 'bout you finish the books first, then we'll talk logistics," you teased. "Hey, speaking of, what floor did they end up putting you on?"

"Um, this one, actually," he said, tilting his head toward a nearby door.

"No shit," you remarked, laughingly. "You must have done something to piss Rogers off, because he put you right across the hall from me."

Bucky looked down, scuffing the toe of his boot against the carpeting. "He said it was the quietest floor, thought I'd prefer that."

You pursed your lips, considering. "Yeah, that makes sense; it's just been me on this level for ages. It'll be nice to have some company for a change."

Bucky looked surprised. "Stark's kept you down here all by your lonesome? That doesn't seem very nice."

You shook your head and dismissed his concern with a wave. "Oh, no-- Tony hates that I still live down here, actually. He put in all new living quarters a few years back. Everyone migrated upstairs, but I was the only one who didn't want to move."

"Why's that?" Bucky asked, appearing genuinely interested.

"I've lived here since I graduated college," you admitted, "back when it was still just Stark Tower. When Tony relocated here from Malibu to rebrand it for the Avengers, he wanted to redo everything, which meant fancy new suites for everybody. But I love my rooms, so I asked to stay put. They've been my home for so long now and I guess I just like the stability, you know?"

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "And Tony thinks highly enough of you that he let the blow to his ego slide?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I have enough dirt on him that he felt like he didn't have much of a choice." You snorted, not able to keep up the pretense. "No, but seriously, I know you and Tony have a complicated... history, but he's not a bad guy. Ego as tall as this Tower, yes, definitely, but he's also incredibly kind and generous. He paid for my entire college education-- undergrad, post-grad, doctorate. I owe everything I have to him."

Bucky shifted against the wall. "That is pretty generous. And he never expected anything from you in return?" He didn't say the words out loud, but the implication was there. Had you slept with Tony in exchange for your diplomas? The innuendo should have bothered you, but it had been posed to you so many times over the years, you'd stopped being offended by it. Before Pepper, Tony had had quite the  reputation, after all, and an MIT education didn’t exactly come cheap. Most people couldn’t understand why he would offer a full ride to someone who, at the time, had been a complete stranger.

"Tony appreciates talent," you clarified. "When he finds it, he cultivates it, nourishes it, does everything he can to help it grow to its fullest potential. But he does like to get a return on his investments, and my skills have helped him make a lot of money." You shrugged your shoulders with a chuckle. "I love my job, I love the work we do, I love the stupid weirdo family we've built here, so I've always considered meeting Tony to be the best thing that ever happened to me. He's kind of like my own fairy godfather."

"So, what exactly does he have you do around here?" Bucky asked. "I know Steve said you did computer stuff, but you said it was an over-simplification."

You ran a hand up to rub the back of your neck while you considered your answer. How best to explain your position to someone who was born before the invention of the television? "Okay," you exhaled, "so, short answer is that I'm the CTO, the Chief Technology Officer, of Stark Industries and, under that, I run the Avenger’s Technology and Innovation Department. It's sort of our take on Research and Development. I've got a lab where I'm in charge of about 450 scientists, engineers, computer programmers, analysts, et. cetera. And our entire job is coming up with cool new ways of making things easier for the Avengers. Like, new features for suits, developing useful programs, coming up with new defenses and weapons, that kind of thing. And if we've got missions that require heavy computer- or tech-work, I come along for on-site support. I'm combat-trained and good with languages, so that comes in handy in the field. There’s probably a ton of field agents that could go in my place, but for Tony, it’s a matter of trust."

Bucky let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Damn. That's impressive. You're a little intimidating, you know that?"

Laughing, you tucked your tablet under your arm. "Please. I'm about as intimidating as a hamster." You paused to think. "Maybe a hamster with rabies, but still a hamster."

A series of beeps emanated from your tablet. As you pulled it out to check the alert, Bucky moved away from the wall. "I'm so sorry-- you were heading back to your room and I've basically been holding you hostage this entire time."

"Actually," you said, silencing the notification alarm that had distracted you, "That was just a reminder I set for myself to eat. Sometimes I lose track of time in the lab and completely forget to have dinner. Are you hungry? You could join me."

Bucky pulled his head back, regarding you as though he wasn't sure if you were serious.

"Or, if you don't want to, that's cool," you said quickly once you noticed his hesitation. "I mean, you wanted a quiet floor. Annoying neighbor is probably the last--"

"I'd love to," interrupted Bucky with a grin. "I'm just surprised someone like you would want to spend time with someone like me."

"Someone like me? Hey now, for all you know, I could be an absolute trash person," you teased, playfully punching him on the shoulder.

Bucky chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a newfound warmth. "Well, I highly doubt that, but I guess I'll find out soon enough."

"Don't say I didn't warn you when you do." You cocked your head toward the door to your room. "I'm going to change out of my work clothes. While I do, how about you decide what you're in the mood for, and we'll go from there. That sound good?" Bucky nodded as you let yourself into your room. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, but you found you were looking forward to spending more time in the company of Bucky Barnes.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[hesperocyon-lesbian]

Ok I’m gonna keep this vague because I’ve published actual research in this field and I’d rather not have my actual real life name floating around on tumblr.

Basically, for those who don’t know, phylogenetics is the study of constructing family trees for organisms. We construct what are called characters, which are specific descriptors for different anatomical features of an organism, and score them with a number based on which state for that character they fit. Eg, a character would be “does this animal have a tail”, with 0 for no and 1 for yes. Character states aren’t necessarily binary either, so for our previous character we could instead formulate it as 0, no tail, 1, short tail, 2, long tail.

We formulate hundreds of characters for a dataset based on the anatomical features we’re trying to track the evolutionary history of, then score a dataset of species for those characters. Using this dataset, we run statistical analyses that determine which pattern of anatomical changes over time is most likely, or which path of speciation requires the fewest changes.

So, with that background, here’s my rant: a massive chunk of the researchers in this field don’t treat it like a science. Let’s return to our tail example. Determining whether a tail is long or short is incredibly subjective, and because animals change their overall size more easily than they change proportions, absolute measurements aren’t a useful metric. So we could reformulate our character by separating short and long tails into the ratio of their length to overall body size. Straightforward, right?

The problem is there aren’t really any formalized standards around this, so phylogenetics researchers will basically just make an arbitrary character, determine which character state to score a species for based on entirely subjective judgments, and then treat the results as objective. It’s a mess, and it just generally produces garbage results, but for some reason people have been treating those results as authoritative because the data is extensive and boring so sifting through it to determine its objectivity is a pain in the ass. Granted, it’s a pain in the ass that should be getting caught in peer review, but it straight up isn’t

[allwormdiet]

Extermination 8.7

In which nobody is happy and everything is pain

Wuh oh, the worst chapter of Taylor's life has just received a series of footnotes that provide further context, and none of them are making her feel any better

And now things are getting even worse

Hey Colin, looks like you've lost some weight, trying something new with the asymmetrical look?

Also I like how even Taylor's paranoid ass is like "no you know what, they didn't need to know Sophia was a superhero for them to fuck me over"

Really copping it up in here, huh you two?

This is bad for everybody. A supervillain who's taken explicit actions against the PRT and Protectorate has discovered the identity of a Ward, and a teenage girl is being surrounded and lambasted by adults who could make her life Hell with very little effort.

God, Birdcage would be nightmarish, especially with Lung in there probably nursing the mother of all grudges

Also, interesting that Taylor changing her mind translates to Armsmaster as her being a master manipulator and spinner of lies. There's no possible way that she stopped trying to be a hero because he acted like a gigantic asshole the second time they met or something.

Skitter has gotten the absolute worse perspective that the heroes can offer, so she's suffering a biased stance here, but even without that her anti-authority streak is way too strong to tolerate it for long

Don't throw a fucking shitfit, Colin

You're an adult, fucking act like one

Yaaaaaaay, the crew's alright and they're backing Skitter up, there's no way this immediately blows up

Grue is making himself look bigger in this moment, scarier, more authoritative. If I'm understanding right that means he's way on the fucking edge about all of this and feeling tense and a little scared.

Glad Regent got out of it with only some stitches, wonder if that cut is anything noteworthy or if he just got gouged by some glass or shrapnel or something

Bitch is handling things about as well as could be expected

Hey Tattletale, glad you're not dead

Oh boy!

Sophia would fucking lunge across the tent and go for the murder attempt then and there, I'm pretty sure

Also, Legend is technically right, insofar as Taylor has made a lot of situations more difficult by digging her heels in

Unfortunately, he would.

Look at her getting her little debut to the Protectorate leader

The greatest asset and weakness of the Protectorate: image

These people are about to get their shit rocked by a teenager with access to a PA system and I'm not convinced they didn't bring this on themselves

Also, love an ultimatum, very heroic

Tattletale you're so cool and real for this

We love an ultimatum, very villainous

Colin, you dumbfuck

I think the most damning part of this conversation is that Miss Militia literally doesn't have any trouble connecting the dots

There's the setup

And there's the knockdown. Armsmaster has once again been outplayed by a teenager, and now the best thing to do is probably to quit while he's behind

So of course he decides to double and triple down

Let's review facts here

Armsmaster is a grown-ass man who is really upset that a pack of teenagers are beating him

He has admitted, out loud, that he broke truce conditions and got villains killed in order to try and get a moment of glory

He knows full well that at least two of the Undersiders have killed before and may kill again if suitably motivated, such as, I don't know, finding out a teammate tried to betray them

So with everything in consideration

he throws a tantrum that could get a girl killed because of wounded pride

This hurts, a lot

Also hey early hint that Tattletale knows what's up

Panacea like "wow this girl is some kind of disaster, thank god my worldview guarantees that I'm way better than her"

Also Jesus fucking Christ what a way to end the chapter

Current Thoughts

God fucking dammit Colin, you could literally get a teenager killed because you had to throw a fucking tantrum over how you got your kill stolen and your super cool plan to win glory and recover lost pride got foiled by the common fucking sense of "you can't kill an Endbringer"

I know that isn't what happens, but hey guess what he doesn't know Taylor's story goes for another twenty-plus chapters, he's willing to roll those dice because his feewings got huwt

I hope they make him choke on whatever book ends up thrown at him for this

[dreams-of-me]

Why Don't You Love Me?

Eren x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: domestic abuse!, toxic! Eren, semi-public sex, verbal abuse!, cervix kissing, deep penetration, vaginal penetration, creampie, overstimulation, AFAB Reader, BIPOC reader.

This is a prompt for my dear friend. She is a Yeagerist just like me and she deserves a fanfic that will make her coochie throb! This is based off the relationship between Nate and Maddie from Euphoria and I will not be taking and questions at this time.

"You're such an asshole leave me the fuck alone."

"Oh I'm the asshole because you want to show your ass to other men while you belong to me?"

" I don't belong to anyone but my fucking self, and if I were to belong to someone it wouldn't be you Eren. "

Eren's rage had reached his limit and grabbed you by your throat. He slammed you against the nearest wall and brought his lips close to your ears as he spoke slowly and calmly.

"Listen here bitch, you belong to me even if you don't want to. Even if we break up, you belong to me. You're mine got it."

You couldnt breathe Eren was at least a foot and a half taller than you and her was holding you up by your neck. You looked at him calmly as he spoke because even though the position you were in was painful and terrifying, you could not help yourself when the thought of him fucking you right up against the same wall. You were undeniably aroused by that little vein that popped out of Eren's neck as he spoke.

He let you down and you gasped for air as he walked away. You knew he could've killed you if he wanted but everything before this moment is really what kept you with him. Everything before this moment is what allowed the relization that everything he just told you is true. Even if he were to kill you, you'd be his.

Eren was the type of guy that was absolutely smoking hot and he knew it. Because he knew it he walked around Shiganshina Secondary School like he owned it. He was the social king, the football captain, the hottest guy in school, and average level intelligence. Unfortunately, this made it super apparent that he need a queen very soon as he was in his Junior Year and people were starting to believe that he was Gay from hanging around his best friend Armin so much and Mikasa didn't help as she looked at every girl that got close to him with a death stare.

Eren was also very picky. He didn't want a girl that was too tall or too short. About medium height. Had to be practically hairless, they need a nice rack and a fat ass. More importantly the needed to be confident. He also had a thing for POC girls, how their darker skin seemed to glow in the honey sunlight of golden hour. How the gold jewelry always complimented their skin, and the Lucious lips that was always beautifully adorned with all types of gloss. God, don't even get him started on how they smelled. Which is what brought him to you. You walked past him on the way to your class and he smelled warm vanilla and linen with a fruity scent. He turned around and watched you ass sway away from him as you entered your class.

Later that day he looked for you in the cafeteria. He spotted you with a teammate, Jean it looked like you were reviewing some class work so he walked over to you both.

"No Jean, this needs to be done by tomorrow so that we both have time to prepare to the game this Friday."

"Okay fine ill get it done as soon as I can. Oh what's up Yeager-"

"You're gorgeous. Give me your number?"

"You're not too bad yourself. Its XXX-XXX-XX34." You say confidently. Your lips move with such slow ease that he is entrapped hearing nothing but what he might imagine your moans sound like under him.

"I'll see you at the game this weekend QB 1, but hopefully. I get to see you sometime before that. Text me."

"Yeager, you're hot shit and everything but we have practice let's go."

Eren picked his jaw up off the floor as he watched your hair swing behind you as you walked, turned your head quickly to find him staring then winked. He felt is heart jolt and blood rush straight to his dick. That's the moment where he knew you had to be his queen.

"OH FUCK YES"

"I know, take it all for me."

"EREN FUCK"

"Dirty mouth, its okay I like that. Are you ready for me."

"Please please plea- AH FUCK"

"Fuuuuck."

You would assume this was a porno. You're in a dark and empty classroom blinds closed as the band plays the start of the halftime performance for the night. A classic, Seven Nation Army. The scent of popcorn and hotdogs from the concession stand was in full blast. This was their first game of the season and in the first two quarters Shiganshina's football team had a 21 point lead to 7 from the opposing team.

You had been texting Eren nonstop about everything. Talking about sweet nothings. Getting showered with compliments as well as the occasional gift at the end of the school day. A new set of nails, some lingerie shopping, and of course perfume for your collection. He loved how you smiled when he bought you things, and you adored that he bought you things. The make shift relationship you found yourself was perfect. At the end of the week the night of the game you found yourself holding hands with him walking down the hallway. He kissed you deeply and he told you to text him as he grabbed your ass before walking away.

You liked that Eren was sweet and although affectionate, he wasn't feening for sex...but you were. You'd drool as he'd send you pictures of himself fresh out of the shower after practice. Or when he wore those tight black t-shirts with a gold chain that hugged his arms and pectoral muscles just right. The way his jaw clenched when he focused as he pulled his hair back into a bun made your pussy clench with ease. You were done playing nice.

"Aw princess, did you think I forgot about you?"

"Shut up, no one gives a fuck about you or your ego."

You admit that your personality also changed when you got with him, you were the center attention because you were together, you had the best clothes and style because of him. Girl and guys alike all looked at you like the queen he made you out to be, and if you were his queen, Ymir so help you that your wouldn't take what's yours when you wanted it.

"Watch it Y/N, you know I like when you talk dirty but talking shit is different."

"What you're gonna let little old me bruise your fucking god complex? If I can do it than any other little fucker in this school can and you're just as much of a failure as your older brother and crazy ass father."

You also admit that you took that comment too far in trying to rile him up and unfortunately you paid the fucking price. Family is a sensitive topic for Eren and there is only so much teasing he can take before he snaps. And that's exactly what he did, at the drop of a hat he turned you around and grabbed you by the neck slamming you against the wall of the athletics building where you were both walking to practice.

"Listen up bitch, I don't care what you have to say about me but my family is off fucking limits, not that you would ever know or care about yours seeing as you're so fucking detached from them. "

You looked at him fighting to breathe eyes low and slightly seductive but tearing up as you were being held up by your neck to his height. You grasped at his hand for some leverage but his grip on your neck provided no such thing.

"You're fucking job is to walk around on my arm, look like the hottest bitch in heat that I picked up and suck my cock when I ask you to, questioning me, my athourity, or my family is not part of it and I never wanna hear shit from uppity slut like you… Got it”

He released his hold and you came crashing down.

Fighting to inhale oxygen into your lungs and coughing when the burn of the oxygen passes finally.

He stood there looking down at you unamused.

With a tear in your eye, you look up at him neck already beginning to bruise with a yellowish hue.

“Why don’t you love me?” you said being the most genuine you’ve every been in months.

He scoffed, picked you up and kissed you. Not like usual, not an apology for his abuse but proof that he does care for you in his own twisted way. And that was enough you felt. Enough for you.

He’s always loved doggy style, loved watching your plump ass clap back at him and wave in all it’s glory. So you weren’t surprised when he pushed you away from the kiss and turned you around. Bending you against the wall and hiking your cheer skirt up, pulling the shorts and panties down.

Next thing you knew you felt his dick pressed up against your rubbing against your ass “dumb questions get dumb answers”.

He rammed himself into you, filling you all the way up and sucking his teeth at your tightness. You couldn’t control your moans, he just fucked you so deeply and with so much intent that it was hard not to voice your every sensation.

“Ahh- Erennn”

“mhm say my name.”

“fuck eren, just like that”

You were getting whiplash because right when you said that he pulled out and turned you around again. Lifting you up so that your ankles locked around his hips. Nestling your drippy pussy on his tip.

He gripped both your ass cheeks and pressed you down, fully in-bedding himself in you.

“Fuckkkkkk, ahh it’s so deep”

“just how i like it.”

He continued his pace from earlier as you threw your head back in complete euphoria. He kept it going as if you weighed even less than a feather.

“You’re such a needy bitch, why didn’t you tell me you needed some dick earlier. All of this could’ve been avoided”

It fell on deaf ears obviously because the pain from your neck and the pleasure from your pussy we’re mixing soooo well.

“Ah- More, please more”

He did exactly that pushing himself deeper into you with every thrust, your wetness dripping on the pants of his uniform. He used that wetness to slip a finger in your ass and if you were full before you’re way over the limit now.

“Ngahhhh too muchhhh ��

“what, you just asked for more. Take what i give you”

3 more thrusts in and you were cumming all over him, you held onto him for dear life clawing at his back knowing he’d pay for your new mani when you complain about it next week. You didn’t expect him to keep thrusting into you after you came.

“AHHH NOOO”

“Shut the fuck up”

He thrusted deeper, harder, but so much slower because he knew now that you were done he was next. He relished every second of your cries, how you were still fluttering around him but tightening as he pushed into you deeper.

You started shaking as your second orgasm finally took over and he came right along with you, groaning into you ear.

“Shiiiiiiitttttt, ahhh���

You were non-verbal, eyes rolled back as a stream of clear liquid made itself present between the both of you.

He kissed you again. Hotter, more passionate. Gripping the nape of your neck to push both of you deeper into it.

You wrapped your hands in his hair become slightly more conscious.

By the time you both were done practice had ended.

You both texted your coaches about not feeling well including a picture of your soaked uniform lying about “throwing up”.

You went the locker rooms, changed and walked to Eren’s car hand in hand.

You spent the night at his house, exhausted enough to not care about his 30 minute shower. But when he came back, god he smelled amazing. He wrapped you in the blanket before getting into bed himself.

You cuddled into his chest as he stared at the ceiling waiting for sleep to take him.

“what makes you think i don’t love you?”

you don’t respond, pretending to be asleep but with your head and heart wide awake. You know now, those word will never have to be said again

You fell asleep feeling happy, but nothing could prepare you for the week to come when the bruises took their final form…

[scribe-of-hael]

I Hate Sentinel Prime

Spoilers for TFONE , please for the love of God GO WATCH IT

One thing about this movie is taking concepts that are digestible for a younger audience and yet takes it seriously enough for older audiences. I already want to make a long winded review and analyzing the morality/psychology/philosophy between D-16 and Orion in the films. But ill save that for another post.

First and forthmost no story is without is obstacles and its antagonist.

From the get go I knew Sentinel was going to be apart of the problem due to just knowing his past counterparts, form TFA to Bayverse and IDW being less than desirable or even striaght up maniacs. I have had a deep rooted hate towards this character since the age of 8/9 years old. That is never going away anytime soon.

I very much chalked Sentinel as an ass who didn't deserve any of Optimus's help or kindness in TFA. Coming to be older understanding just how fucked up his words towards BA was and how this situation was just as much if not more his fault and yet never seem to get repercussions.

What i didn't expect is to have such a violent pure hatred for this character. And the things is. That's the point. The audience is SUPOSSED to hate him.

But this slightly bleeds into the conflict of people feeling who was in the right. D-16 or Orion. Because Sentinel needed to die. Had to die.

I can't express the deep horror I felt when it was revealed this , leader. This protector was no only lieing, not only a murderer. But had taken away others Bodily rights before even having a choice and enslaved them all for his benefit. Being manipulative, abusive , does right utterly disgusting by the violation of Cybertronians.

It is beyond deplorable, it is monstrous. Evil and vile.

The part of why I hate Sentinel and I am so enthralled by him as a villain is that Sentinel's whole persona and archetypes can be found in real life. Sentinel is more likely to be an acutal person in the everyday vs a cult follower of a hungery devil planet.

Is see ppl attracted to Sentinel and 99% of them know he's awful and terrible but his Charisma is what ppl say is the factor they like. And absolutely, it is apart of the manipulation. No one ever truly thinks they are the villain and they believe their own truth of themselves and the situation. Even going around making sure their veil of truth looks like it to the public and will do whatever means to keep it that way.

It is specifically the scene where he kills Alpha Tron and carries on the same tone of the conversation and even says to the CORPSE of how disrespectful he and the other primes where. There is zero hesitation or remorse. He is utterly delusional and insane.

Its the level of one person willing to hurt Thousands , millions, for their own benefit. To where even the ppl affected wouldn't wnat to beleiev someone could be capable of a level of heartless cruelty and yet-

He did it.

Slightly back pedeling in the fact his Death needed to happen. I never felt more satisfaction of a villain death. But in his defeat a new threat came from it. In the end Sentinel did get away with it. He hurt D-16 to such a degree that he not only hurt his friend , he was willing to hurt others to make to make it happen.

Megatron was born to take back the power he felt he lost. But became a new face for a new pain. Sentinel would never be forgotten purely for that reason.

[ohanny]

change host club show

part 3/3

part 1

part 2

sailub as the dj

sailub got his start as a club dj with benz’s mother and even though his popularity exploded, he has stayed loyal. while he he has a contract with a record label and does the occasional tour and festival gig, in bangkok he performs exclusively at her clubs. in order to create hype for the relaunch, benz decides to bring sailub in. sadly sailub does not think benz the estranged son deserves any kind of family discount so after their appearance fee negotiations, benz has to go cry in the bathroom for a bit. while sailub used to be a big party boy back in the day, he took it a bit too far and is now totally sober but as anyone who has been to nightclubs totally sober knows, it can be a pain in the ass which makes him slightly grumpy.

pon as the new kid

pon is already a bit of an influencer. while stuck at home during the pandemic he started doing product review videos on tiktok and sort of blew up but he's not in lockdown anymore and he feels like he's going nowhere. he misses people. he wants the attention in person. so when he sees the flyer for an open audition at the host club, he figures he could try it out. it seems like easy enough of a gig and his most watched videos are kpop dance covers so he shows up, shakes some ass and flirts a bit. then he almost screws it all up by throwing a tantrum when a sceptical benz asks for his birth certificate because no way he is 29. luckily a bit of diva just makes benz go “oh, you'll fit right in” and “how do you feel about fire?” because, as mentioned, benz has a vision and it might involve flaming whips.  

lee as the jack of all trades

lee showed up to install the security cameras and sort of… never left. he does anything and everything from watching the cameras to barbacking to entertaining guests. he is absolutely the biggest gossip in the place and plays both sides by snitching to benz and then relaying everything benz says to babe. you simply can't tell him anything unless you want everyone to know it but, like, not in a malicious way. he's just a chronic yapper. they love him for it. currently interning under pop who has a vision of his own that revolves around putting lee in a dress.

bonus:

nut: i think garfield is trying to find a sugar daddy

benz: sounds fake. that would take an actual effort.

nut: he asked two of my friends about how much money they make and if they're allergic to cats.

benz: …

garfield: well, i don't want to work forever

nut: girl, you barely work, period

garfield: if i have to leave my bed and put some pants on, it counts as work

the story of how lee became a star goes a little like this: pon is warming up to go do his dance performance but twists his ankle five minutes before call time and it's a disaster. the house is packed, topten is home with the flu and someone needs to step up. lee basically jumps up and down going “me, me, me!” and, literally out of options, benz says “you know what? fuck it. go for it.” no one knows quite what to expect but after a mad scramble to steal booty shorts from pon and butcher one of garfield’s fur coats, lee gags everyone with a drag race finale worthy lipsync performance of lisa’s money. the second he exits the stage pop is on him, asking him if he can do the same in heels.

mistress poppy’s shot special: she will put a sugarcane straw in your mouth and tell you to hold it between your teeth. then she will bend you over and spank your ass. if the straw remains uncracked, you get your free shot. initially benz was horrified by this because free booze? in this economy? not very capitalism, not mindful at all. but then pop demonstrated his ass slapping skills on benz and he quickly changed his mind. (he also didn’t sit down for three days but that's neither here nor there.)

for charlie’s 21st birthday, babe climbed on the bartop and went full coyote ugly, doing unspeakable things with a soda gun. it was the first and last time he performed like that. michael almost killed him for defiling his bar.

benz would actually pay onlyoneof to come do libido instead of stealing the choreo. no shade.

[heaven--scent]

1 month Estrogen review

Basically I'm the happiest I've ever been, and it shows no signs of slowing.

Changes I've noticed have been:

Much softer skin

Slightly raised face fats

Significant reversal of male pattern baldness

Minor fat redistribution to ass, bum, and breasts.

Actual tiny boobs

Gaining the sense of smell

This has been an absolutely wild month, I've enjoyed it so much. I wish I started sooner, it would have saved me a lot of pain.

100/10 will continue indefinitely.