#yeah... i may or may not be writing something like this

[solxamber]

Helloo, I absolutely love you writing! Your understanding of the twst characters’ personalities is phenomenal 😭❤️

May I request both Ace and Malleus crushing on reader simultaneously, and both are aware that the other likes reader (reader is oblivious hehe). Ace gets super insecure since he isn’t powerful nor of royal status and believes there’s no way he can compete against him, meanwhile Malleus gets super jealous since Ace has been friends with reader ever since and is the most close with him.

Ace x Reader x Malleus (Love Triangle)

a/n: the giggle i let out when i saw this!! such a fun concept and thank you so much 🫶🫶

It started with a normal day: you laughing at one of Ace's jokes, completely unaware of the storm brewing behind you. The storm in question was Ace and Malleus glaring daggers at each other over your oblivious head.

Ace was slouched in his chair, shooting side-eyes at the imposing figure standing too close to your desk. Why does he have to hover like that? he thought bitterly. Malleus, for his part, was casting pointed glances at Ace’s casual posture, as if silently saying, Is this the best you can do?

Neither could deny the truth. They were both hopelessly, tragically in love with you. And they both knew it.

Ace prided himself on being the guy you could count on for a laugh. But today, he was on a mission: show you how amazing he was.

“So, anyway,” he said loudly during your study session in the library, “I totally aced—get it?—my magic exam. Got full marks.” He leaned back smugly, hoping you’d be impressed.

Malleus, who had been quietly sitting nearby (because of course he was), looked up. “Impressive, Ace Trappola. But I suppose it pales in comparison to wielding centuries-old magic and commanding legions of loyal subjects.”

Ace choked on his own smugness. “Yeah, well, I bet you don’t even know how to mix a potion without turning it into swamp goo, huh?”

“Actually, I mastered potion-making at a young age. I created an elixir capable of reviving withered flora.”

“Cool, cool. Can you tell me how any of that helps the prefect with our history homework?” Ace shot back, leaning closer to you.

Malleus frowned. “History is one of my strongest subjects.”

“Oh my Seven—” Ace groaned and threw his hands up. “We get it. You’re ancient!”

You looked between them, confused. “Are you two okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Malleus said smoothly.

“Great! I was just explaining history to Deuce,” Ace lied shamelessly.

Lunch was another battlefield. Ace had secured a seat next to you and was recounting a funny story involving Grim, a mop, and a very angry caterpillar monster.

“…and then Grim screamed so loud, I think half the campus heard him! Right, Prefect?” Ace said, nudging you.

Before you could respond, the shadow of a tall figure fell over the table.

“Malleus,” Ace said with a forced grin. “Didn’t see you there. Like, at all.”

“I thought I would join you,” Malleus said, sitting directly across from you, his gaze unwavering. “Do you require assistance with your meal? Perhaps I could conjure something more fitting for your taste.”

“Okay, that’s just cheating,” Ace muttered under his breath.

“Conjuring food is a skill that requires great control,” Malleus said casually. “It’s a shame some rely solely on mediocre cafeteria fare.”

“Oh, so now the chicken nuggets aren’t good enough for you?” Ace snapped.

“They lack refinement,” Malleus said.

“Yeah? Well, you lack… I dunno, vibes!” Ace countered.

You blinked. “Ace, are you okay? You’re yelling about chicken nuggets.”

“Y-Yeah, I’m good,” Ace mumbled, shoving a nugget in his mouth to shut himself up.

The tension boiled over during a school festival. There was a dance competition, and both Ace and Malleus signed up for one reason: to win your attention.

Ace went first, pulling off a routine filled with flashy moves that he definitely stole from a popular video. The crowd cheered, and you clapped the loudest.

“Not bad, right?” Ace said, slightly out of breath but grinning. “Bet I’m the first guy you’ve seen dance like that.”

Before you could respond, Malleus stepped onto the stage.

“I shall now perform a traditional dance of my homeland,” he announced.

It was graceful, mesmerizing, and undeniably magical—literally. The lights dimmed, and green flames swirled around him as he moved with perfect precision. The crowd was silent, utterly captivated.

Ace stood next to you, slack-jawed. “I… I can’t compete with that.”

You turned to him with a smile. “I thought your dance was amazing too.”

Ace lit up like a firework. “Y-Yeah? You mean that?”

Malleus, mid-spin, glanced at you both. His expression darkened.

Eventually, the competition escalated to new heights of absurdity. Ace baked you cookies, only to find out Malleus had hand-carved you a jewelry box. Malleus enchanted roses to bloom eternally, and Ace countered by organizing a surprise karaoke night with all your favorite songs.

But when you tripped and both of them scrambled to catch you, the ridiculousness reached its peak.

“You caught their hand,” Malleus said, an edge to his voice.

“And you caught their other hand!” Ace snapped.

You, still mid-air, sighed. “Can someone just catch me completely next time?”

Despite their antics, one thing was clear: they both adored you. And while their rivalry was exasperating, it was also… kind of sweet.

Well, for you, anyway. For them? Not so much.

Masterlist

[felassan]

David Gaider on Cassandra (the last of these retrospective character threads), under a cut for length:

"This is the last of the (major) characters I wrote during my time on Dragon Age. I could go into others, and considered moving onto Stray Gods... but I feel like fewer would be interested, and I honestly can't keep up the pace. So let's make this the last, for now. So, yeah. Cassandra. We knew early on that Cassandra would come into DAI as a companion, along with Varric, that this was part of what DA2 set up for the sequel. Now, I'd written Cassandra's short scenes in DA2, yes, but I wasn't her writer for DAI. Initially, she was Jennifer Hepler's character. By mid-project, in fact, Cassandra was more or less fully written. Jennifer did a great job - solid character, solid quest. The sticking point, it turned out, was her romance. Now, to be fair, Jennifer told me straight up when we began that writing romance wasn't her forte, but she'd give it a go. The problem with the romance as she wrote it wasn't in its execution but more a clash between the character as Jennifer envisioned her and the requirements of her being a romance. See, I mentioned previously that a romance arc inherently limits the kinds of stories you can tell with a companion. Many responses I got can be summed up as "lol skill issue", but consider this: a companion romance isn't a fic you can just throw up on AO3. It's an investment of a lot of resources. If a companion has one, most of their resources need to be devoted to it - it's not "now let's ALSO add a romance"."

"That means it needs to take priority in who they are as a character and their arc. What's more, they need to be *appealing* to a big chunk of the player base - or at least someone we can imagine being broadly appealing, anyway. Thankfully, there are still many many stories this can accommodate. 😊 This, however, wasn't one of those. Was Cassandra a fascinating character? Absolutely. Her romance, though... Well, Jennifer DID warn me. She'd written Cassandra as a serious, self-righteous, pious woman who put the Inquisitor on a messianic pedestal. Romancing her meant changing her view of you. You did this by being... pushy. Jennifer didn't mean it to, I'm sure, but sometimes it came off as, at best, negging. At worst, a bit harassy. And Jennifer would have fixed it. This was a 1st draft, and the issues - while serious - were something a skilled writer like her could handle. No problem. Thing is, Jennifer left. You may not remember, but this was around the time a bunch of GamerGate dudes decided Jennifer was somehow responsible for ALL of BioWare's faults. Oh, the power she wielded! She, a writer, could even command the combat Bio made! The result was a LOT of ugly harassment. 😞 Is this why she left? You'd have to ask her, but it undoubtedly didn't help. The important thing is, she left - and there was nobody as senior nor as superhumanly fast as her to take over any unfinished work. This is where Patrick Weekes comes in: a solid, senior writer who could fill her shoes."

"It was great timing - not only did Cassandra need a writer, I'd slowly fallen more and more behind. It was clear by that point that I'd never be able to write Dorian AND Cole AND Solas as planned. They needed to pick up two. And I let them choose the ones who interested them, like all my writers. Patrick taking Solas was no surprise, and while I had Big Plans for Solas in the future I knew at least he'd be in good hands. I was reeeeaaaally hoping Patrick would then pick Cassandra... but they wanted Cole. My baby. Who I created in Asunder. I grumped, but Patrick clearly loved the character. They had ideas for Cole which... yeah yeah, sounded cool. Fiiine. 😅 Now I had to figure out what *I* was going to do with Cassandra. We couldn't move the romance to someone else, all the other female characters were well underway, and I didn't know the character well enough to fix her with tweaks. That meant a re-write. I didn't WANT to erase all that good work, but I needed to start from scratch. Yet how? A pious, self-righteous character was already a risk in terms of romantic appeal. There are only a small number of traits sorta considered universally unappealing but they're on that list. In this instance, Cassandra already being a known character helped. I came across a webcomic (by aimo, I think? AHH I wish I could find it now) that made a joke about Cassandra reading Varric's books. Off-hand, no basis for it, but funny. 😆 And I thought: YES. THAT'S IT. THAT'S WHAT I'M MISSING."

"I sat down and wrote the "fangirl" scene, just to test it out. Everyone loved it, and it served to change my image of who Cassandra was - a view of the inside, at the idealistic and awkward passion she felt, for so many things... AND the Maker. "Yes," I thought. "I could fall in love with this." Who knew Cassandra could be funny? Not anyone, coming out of DA2, yet here we were. It worked so well and her voice came so easily. Miranda Raison was game ofc, and amazing. Though Caroline did gripe that, if we ever met more Nevarrans THAT accent meant we'd have the Tali Problem all over again. 😅 Cassandra's romance is burned into my brain as the time when we THE most awkward conversation with the animators ever. See, that moment during the sex scene on the picnic blanket when she leans back and... there were suddenly these strategically-placed candles, juuuust covering the Sordid Bits. Thing is, they were so obviously placed just to do that. Plus, we'd already decided to do full nudity in DAI, hadn't we? WHY WERE THEY EVEN THERE? Turns out, the nudity thing was still pretty new to the team. They'd forgotten and put the candles there almost as a reflex. So prudish. So Canadian. 😂 I do find it kind of funny that, these days, what I mostly hear about Cassandra is from female fans upset at me because she wasn't a lesbian option. I mean, right? Who wouldn't want that? Technically not my decision, but I guess I WAS behind the companions having set preferences so... fair enough?"

"Some of them do take it to an entitled place, though, like Cassandra *should* have been a lesbian. Why? Because she looks like one, apparently, and that that's a bit of stereotyping which feels... odd? But it's not as if lesbian players are spoiled for choice left and right, so again: fair enough. It did lead to the best end credits VO perhaps ever, and overall I'm pretty happy with how Cassandra panned out. Things never end up like you expect, right? But such is game dev lyfe. 🥸🖖 Did you know Cassandra was THE most-romanced DAI character, by a good margin? Least, by a good margin? Dorian."

[source thread]

User: "Did you have any hand in her writing for Dawn of the Seeker?" David Gaider: "No, none. Nobody at BioWare had any hand in Dawn of the Seeker, outside of maybe Mike approving the script or direction? Only he could say for sure." [source]

User: "Was Miranda a specific casting choice by anyone on the team (similar to your picks for Merrill/Fenris/Solas), or was she simply a lucky find? I loved Miranda on the BBC series "Spooks", so I was very pleasantly surprised to learn she voiced one of my favourite DA characters" David Gaider: "I don’t remember how Miranda was cast. Auditioned, I expect, and she had a good “steely warrior voice” which is surprisingly uncommon among actresses. The accent she made up was all her, as well." [source]

User: "What's the Tali Problem?" David Gaider: "When Tali was the only Quarian, the actress doing a made-up accent was fine. Once there were others… do we get them all to mimic her? That’s a tall order!" [source]

User: "I'd say Solas is the most popular nowaday, but you need to be such a specific race/gender combo + most straight guys wouldn't go for him, i get hes not on top of the list, but I'd have expected Josephine over Cass." David Gaider: "You can’t go by how fans online talk about playing the game. There is almost zero correlation between the playstyles of the vocal hardcore and the masses." [source]

User: "I was a Dorianmancer. The cut content in Trespasser DLC was sad to read, it definitely felt short/abrupt for Dorianmancers. Anyway to share what was cut at all?" David Gaider: "I don’t know what was cut out of the conversation, as I never played it. I just heard about it after the fact." [source]

User: "Those end credits are truly incredible. Do you remember who wrote them? I'm guessing a combination of Mary Kirby & you?" David Gaider: "I wrote them, but I recall the entire team kind of took part in brainstorming the pieces of it." [source]

User: "I’m very curious- Do you know what direction you would have taken Cole and his story if you’d kept him?" David Gaider: "It's hypothetical at this point, but I suspect I would have been less willing to lose the serial killer aspect... or, at least, would have made that transition occur as part of his arc in DAI. Yet that's easy to say from this side of the divide. Who knows, really?" [source]

User: "With Cassandra you created one of the best characters in DA history." David Gaider: "Personally, my favorite response of hers is where she gets mocked for loving romance and she comes back with a retort about how it's a strength - how loving something and striving for the ideal takes courage. To me, that's central to her core." [source]

User: "inquiry: did you not write any of the Awakening characters?" David Gaider: "I wrote Anders, Justice, and Nathaniel in Awakening - but it was such a hurried project, my memories of it are pretty much a blur. "Yes, I worked on that" is almost all I can say about it, I'm afraid." [source]

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

Oh...*okay yeah that explains it so well thank you so much for putting this into words , as an author ive felt both really isolated by a lack of people talking to me in the comments under my fics as of late and really guilty for wanting to ask that of people when i know they may not want that-* but the thing i started writing fics for was because i wanted to be a part of a fandom and engage with it, this perfectly puts it into words why it bothers me. *ive been over here trying to decide if maybe im just like, unwell psychologically or something and i needed a therapist, like maybe i was broken if im this upset about it when i should be happy to just post regardless of what response i get* i really needed to read this post, thank you op :' ) this is a really good conversation to have and i hope reblogging it will maybe help this idea spread more so more fandom folk can read it and...maybe we can adjust how we're handling this whole comments thing.

and maybe...i can adjust how im approaching things. maybe i should ask more questions, maybe i should reach out more? hm..we'll see

feedback and fic in fandom (3 f's of our own)

This conversation about feedback on fic says everything I’ve been wanting to say better than I could say it. But I’ll go ahead and try anyway.

Over the last five years or so there have been some great discussions around the rise of commodification of fanworks and decline of fandom community. This commodification looks a bit like enshittification of the internet: a cool site exists; its popularity makes someone realize they can get money from it; it has more and more ads; the site adds features to drive engagement, including The Algorithm; the things that made the site cool start to fall away. The site exists now as a vehicle purely to get clicks, and the people on it are on it solely to get clicks—to make money, to be successful, for some kind of social cachet.

AO3 doesn’t have advertisements. It’s not making money. But what is happening to fandom is proof of concept that enshittification changes the way we as humans engage. A cool website in 2004 was often a community space where you could meet people, have conversations, find cool things, and make cool things. A cool website in 2024 is either a content farm that will continually feed you enough content to hold your attention, or a social media site where your participation will come with stats to show you whether you are holding the attention of others.

AO3 wasn’t built to be a community space. It doesn’t have great functions for meeting people and having conversations. The idea was that, because fandom community spaces already existed, AO3 would serve the part of that community where you can find the cool things and store the cool things you made. It was meant to be a library in a city, not the whole city itself.

But it was also never meant to be a website in 2024, a content farm constantly generating content solely for your clicks and eyeballs and ad revenue, or a social media site where the content creators themselves vie for your clicks and eyeballs.

The most common talking point when people discuss the enshittification of fandom is the folks out there who are treating AO3 as that first kind of enshittified website: the content farm. This discussion is about how people treat fanfic as a product for consumption.

The post that kicked off the discussion on @sitp-recs’s blog was about someone who wasn’t getting very many kudos or comments on their fic, and was feeling pretty demoralized about it, then joined a discord server and found an entire channel dedicated to people loving their fic. But those on that server had never come to share that love with the author, which the author found really discouraging.

There are more and more stories like this. Someone on tiktok pulls a quote from a fic on AO3 and makes a 10-second video with them staring at a wall, the quote pasted at the bottom, music playing over it. It has 100,000 hearts, and 100 comments with people gushing over the fic, which has 80 kudos on AO3. Overall, people notice more and more hits on their fics, but fewer and fewer comments or even kudos. Fewer and fewer people seem to feel the need to interact with the author, instead treating the fic like a product to be used and discarded—which the enshittified internet (a stunning feature of late-stage capitalism!) encourages. The fandom community is dying, these stories conclude.

I agree. 100%. Both of the stories above have happened to me—viral tiktoks about my fic, secret discord channels to follow and discuss my fic—and let me tell you, it fucking sucks.

But from these observations about fandom enshittification, the discussion continues in a very odd direction. The solution to the death of fandom community is our favorite enshittification buzzword: engagement. We should engage the authors. They’re producing these products for free. We consume them at no cost. We must demonstrate our gratitude by paying them back.

It’s as though the capitalist consumption that the enshittified web encourages is so ingrained within us that we must think in terms of payment, in terms of exchange, transaction. Or as though, by forgoing payment, authors are some kind of martyrs defying capitalism, and the only way to honor their great sacrifice is comments and kudos.

Indeed, the discourse around this sometimes does veer away from capitalist rhetoric into something that smells almost religious in desperation. Authors are gods who bestow us mere mortals with the fruits of their labor benevolently, through love; the least we can do is worship them. Meanwhile the authors adopt the groveling sentiment of starving artists: I produce great art; I only humbly ask that you feed me in return.

These kinds of entreaties make my skin crawl for a number of reasons. I’m not a god. I’m not writing because I love you. I don’t expect your worship or even your praise.

I think the thing that disturbs me the most about it is that it suggests that authors (or, if the OP is feeling generous fan work creators) are the most important people in fandom. I’ve even seen posts stating that without creators, fandom wouldn’t exist—as though readers aren’t just as important. As though conversations where people discuss characterizations and plot points and randomly spin out interpretations and ideas and thoughts related to canon are meaningless. I’ve even seen people scramble to include folks having these discussions as “creators,” as though realizing that these people are necessary and integral to fandom communities but unable to drop the idea that the producers are the ones who are important. As though that person who just lurks can never count.

Is this what community is? When you join the queer community, are you expected to produce a product of your queerness? If not, must you actively participate and give back to the queer community in order to be considered a part of it? Or is it enough that you are queer, that you exist as a queer person and want to be around others who are queer, you want to be a part of something? What is community, anyway?

The problem with people raising the authors above everyone else in the community and demanding that tribute be paid is that they are decrying the “content farm” style of 2024 website out of one side of their mouth, but out of the other side are instead demanding that AO3 become a 2024-style social media website. Authors are influencers. “Engagement” and clicks are the things that really matter. They are in fact suggesting that the way to solve the commodification of fanfic is by “paying authors back” with stats.

Before anyone comes at me with the idea that comments aren’t just “stats,” I will clarify what I mean. There are literally hundreds of posts on tumblr alone claiming that any comment “helps” the author. Someone replies that they are shy to comment. Someone else replies that incoherent keyboard smashes, a single emoji, or the comment “kudos” are all that is required to satisfy the author, all that is required as tribute—all that is required as payment to keep this economy healthy.

I’m not condemning the comments that are keyboard smashes or emojis or a single kind word. I receive them. They make me happy. If anyone wants to leave such a comment on my fics, I’m really grateful for it. But this is not community-building. This is a transaction. In @yiiiiiiiikes25’s excellent response in the post linked at the beginning, they point out that “you have a cool hat” is something that is “perfectly nice” to hear from someone—and it is! We all want to be told we have a cool hat! But as they go on to say, what builds community is interactions that are deep and specific, interactions that are rich in quality, not in quantity. A kudos or a comment that says only ❤️are lovely things to receive, but they don’t build community.

My reaction, when I see people begging for kudos and comments as the only means by which to keep fandom community alive, is very close to @eleadore's. I want to say, “No. Readers do not need to comment or kudos. Believe not these hucksters who claim to know the appropriate method of fandom participation. Participate as you feel able, or not at all; nothing is required of you.”

I’ve been told before (several times) that I’m not qualified to participate in such discussions because I am an established author who has some fics with very high stats. It doesn’t matter that I have also been a new writer with almost no one reading my fics. It doesn’t matter that I still write in new fandoms where no one in that fandom knows me. It doesn’t matter that I, like any human being, still care about receiving recognition and attention and praise.

And maybe that’s correct. I personally don’t think that billionaires have a place in deciding the direction of the economy, and--if we're really going to consider fandom an economy--in fandom terms, if I’m not a billionaire, or even a millionaire, I’m definitely in the infamous “one percent.” So, just as no one wants to hear Elon Musk say “money isn’t everything,” maybe it’s not my place to say “kudos isn’t required, actually.”

That said, I’m not the only one who has a problem with the stats-based discourse around fandom community. However, the main counter-response to this discussion I see goes something like this: you shouldn’t be writing fic for validation. If you’re writing for attention, you’re doing it for the wrong reason. Authors should write fic because they love it without any expectation of return.

This is, in my opinion, missing the point of what is meant by fandom community.

I wrote fanfic before I knew that fanfic, as a concept, existed. I read books; I wanted them to be different; I wrote little stories for myself with new endings, with self-inserts, with cross-overs, with alternate universes. I did it for myself in the 90s. It never occurred to me that anyone else would do this, much less that people would share.

As @faiell points out—creating and sharing are two different things. I created fics for myself, but I decided to share them in the early 2000s because other people might like them, too. And of course, I wanted to hear whether other people liked them. How could I not? I might decorate my home just for me and not for anyone else’s preferences, but when people come over and say my house is nice, how can I not enjoy that? And if a lot of people think my house is nice, which encourages me to post pictures of it online, isn’t it understandable I might do so with the hope that more people will say my house is nice? And, honestly, if no one is appreciating my pictures, I probably won’t continue to go through the trouble of taking them and posting them. I’ll just enjoy my house that I decorated without sharing, the end.

When I found out there were whole fannish communities where people discussed canon and tossed ideas around about it, made theories and prompts and insights into the characters, fics they had written and recs for other fics and analyses of fics and art based on fics and fics based on art—I wanted to be a part of that, too. Now, sometimes, I write fic not out of an internal need to do so but out of a desire to participate in that community.

The idea that we write fic only for the love of it, then post it only because we possess it, is a process entirely centered on the self. It’s fandom in a vacuum. The idea that we share this thing, that we feel pleasure if someone likes it but feel nothing at all if no one says anything about it, that it’s completely okay to be ignored and unseen—that’s not what a community is either. That’s some weird sort of self-aggrandizement through self-effacement—because yes, there is often a weird kind of virtue-signaling in this kind of discourse.

I say this as someone who has virtue-signaled in that way: “some people write for stats, but I write for myself.” It’s bullshit. Sure, I write for myself, but why post it on the internet? Honestly, said virtue has a whiff of the capitalist machine, which would like you to produce for the sake of production, work for the sake of work. The noblest among us expect no recompense for that which they give!

The reason that I’m bringing this back around to capitalism is that capitalism actively works to dismantle community. The reason that folks are out here pleading for “engagement” in order to “pay back” authors for the products they give us “for free” is because people no longer even have the language to discuss how to participate in meaningful community. And frankly, how to build back fandom community, in the face of enshittification, is getting harder and harder to see.

But I do think that if we value fanfic and the fanfic community, it’s really, really not constructive to judge whether someone’s reasons for writing fanfic are valid. It’s also weird to me that it would be considered wrong that someone’s reason for sharing fanfic is because they would like to receive some recognition for it, when in fact that seems to be the most natural reason in the world for sharing something so private and vulnerable with the world.

Let’s go back to that idea of how hurtful it is to find out your fanfic is trending on tiktok without anyone from tiktok saying anything to you about your fic, or how it can be painful to find out there’s a secret discord channel dedicated to your fic. The people who respond to that with, “Ah, but you shouldn’t be writing to get attention!” are missing the point. The fic did get attention. It got lots. Attention obviously wasn't why the writer was writing--they were writing to participate, and they didn't get to. At all.

However, if your conclusion is that the author was upset because these particular stats were not accruing under this author’s profile, thereby preventing them from achieving the vaunted status of BNF and influencer—I don’t know, maybe you’re right. But I don’t think that’s why I, personally, have been hurt by these things, and I doubt it’s what hurt the people in these posts either. They’re hurt because they want to participate, and they have been systematically excluded by the very people they thought were part of the community they thought they could participate in.

Sure, if those folks from tiktok and the discord server all came and showered the author with kudos and comments that said “kudos,” the author might have felt satisfied enough with the quantity of this recognition that they would continue writing. But in the end, this still does nothing to address the problem of fandom community, in which the deep, meaningful recognition, interactions, and relationships in fandom are getting harder and harder to have and to build, as a result of how people now expect to engage in online spaces.

So, how to address the problem of fandom community? You probably read this long, long post hoping that I had an answer, and for that I must apologize. I don’t have solutions. My intent was to be descriptive, rather than prescriptive. I wished to outline the problems that I’m seeing in what was hopefully a slightly new or at least thought-provoking way, rather than offer solutions.

But, now that I’m talking about being prescriptive, maybe I can offer one suggestion, which is—maybe the solution to this isn’t about prescribing behavior. I do understand the irony in writing a prescription saying we shouldn’t prescribe people, but I’m going to write it anyway:

Maybe we shouldn’t be telling anyone the appropriate reasons for writing fanfic or for sharing it. Maybe we shouldn’t be telling readers they need to kudos or need to comment. If we’re going to go pointing fingers, we should be pointing at the institutions of capitalism that have made the internet what it is today—but I don’t think that’s going to solve the problem either.

But I do think that describing this problem, understanding what it actually is, not blaming readers for it and not blaming authors for it—I do think that helps. The discussion I linked at the beginning of this post is what I think of as the fandom I miss, the fandom that's now harder and harder to access, the fandom that is dying. That fandom was a social space where people had opinions and disagreed and went back and forth and gazed at their navels and then talked about Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

In the words of @yiiiiiiiikes25, it was a fuckin’ discussion about hats. And we’re hungry for it.

[mamaagirlbehindyouu]

Fake Dating, Real Feelings Pt.1

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 925

Summary: Your friend Tara invites you to a party, but she has an ulterior motive. (This chapter is mainly build-up to what I’ll be writing in later parts, so if you don’t like slow burns then you may want to wait for later chapters to be released to begin reading <3.)

Warning: A little bit toxic (but will get better in later chapters!!)

A/N: This chapter is kinda ass ngl but more parts will come out later w/ more fluff-heavy chapters (and potentially smut)

You sat in bed, propped up on two pillows, scrolling on your laptop. It was finals season- meaning you were now starting the 9 page term paper that was due tomorrow at 12pm. It wasn’t ideal, but you had enough time to where you were still putting off writing your paper. You weren’t writing your essay on your laptop, you were scrolling through Pinterest.

That was, of course, until you got a text from someone. Picking up your phone to see who the message was from, you instinctively kicked your feet when you saw the name of who it was from. Tara. Your friend tara. The friend you just so happened to have a massive thing for.

Shutting your laptop and properly sitting up, you unlocked your phone to read the message from her.

Tara: Hey, you up?

You stared at the message for a moment, contemplating whether or not to reply. It was already 9:30, you could just leave Tara on delivered and lie tomorrow that you had had an “early night”. After all, your paper needed to get done and you could tell from the nature of Tara’s text that she either wanted to go somewhere or do something.

Yeah right, that would take more self control than you had.

Y/n: Ofc, what’s up?

Immediately after sending the text, you were met with a “Read 9:36 PM”. You watched the gray bubbles dance on your phone screen, before they disappeared and re-appeared.

Tara: Last time I’ll ask this, I swear

Tara: Will you come to a party with me tn? I want to show up like 10:30 😊

You groaned, staring at your phone again before replying. This wasn’t an infrequent request from Tara by any means- she always needs a DD considering the fact that she seems to love getting wasted. With time, the request had become more and more of a chore as she seemed to get drunker and drunker at each party you took her to. Going to parties with Tara wasn’t fun anymore, but you knew she would just find someone else to go with her if you said no and you didn’t want that.

Y/n: I’ll be there in 30.

Throwing your blankets off and setting your laptop on the nightstand, you got up, walking over to the closet. Why did you always go along with whatever Tara wanted? Well, the answer to that was obvious, but you would rather die than admit your feelings for Tara were getting serious.

After throwing on a black miniskirt and tank with a jacket on top and some boots you got into your car and began the drive to Tara’s house. This was a drive you knew all too well, and not for good reason.

When you got to Tara’s house the front door was already open, with just the screen door shut and Tara visible and sitting on the stairs. She was wearing flare jeans and a ribbed blue henley with some white Converse. You couldn’t explain how, but Tara always seemed to make the most basic of outfits come off as breathtaking. Maybe her face card was enough of an accessory.

Spotting you from where she sat on the stairs, Tara leapt up and smiled, waving her hands at you. She opened the screen door, squealing.

“Y/n! You came! Thank you so much!”

Tara’s joy was always infectious, making you forget your original reservations about that night. A smile spread across your own face as you waved back awkwardly, unsure of what to do whenever Tara’s attention was fully on you.

“Of course I did,”

You said, unaware of how un-enthusiastic you came across. You were always excited to see Tara, but being around her often made you feel awkward, frequently making it seem like you have a lackluster temperament.

“Could you act any less excited to see me?”

Tara teased as she held open the screen door for you, allowing you to enter her home.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ you began to speak, but Tara cut you off, noticing how you seemed genuinely apologetic.

“No, I was joking. It’s okay, y/n/n,” she reassured you, offering another smile.

You smiled back and nodded in agreement, not wanting to say anything else about the matter, still embarrassed about the interaction. Tara led you up to her bedroom (not that you were unfamiliar with it).

“I just need to do my makeup real quick and then we can leave,” Tara assured you, aware that it was getting closer and closer to 10:30.

“‘real quick?’” you laughed. “Since when do you do your makeup ‘real quick’?”

“Hey, last time you came over I did my makeup in ten minutes, max- That’s, like, record time for me,” Tara defended herself, raising her hands in the air, primer in hand.

“It was more like half an hour, not ten minutes,” you corrected her as she rolled her eyes. “And why’d you invite me this time? Or was it just to be your designated driver again?” you half-called Tara out, passing it off as a joke, as you took in her features, taking advantage of the fact that she was preoccupied. You loved all of Tara’s features, but her eyes were definitely at the top of the list. How could anyone not love them?

“About that..” Tara said, stopping her makeup application, making an uncomfortable face. “I kind of need you to pretend like you’re dating me.” Suddenly, you were snapped out of your thoughts.

Pt. 2??

Photo Creds: miaolliez and geminiprinc3ss on Pinterest

[pleasestayawayidonotlikeyou]

Hi!

I have a request for FellSwap Gold bros, UnderSwap bros, and Underfell Bros x SUPER shy reader!!

Reader having really bad social anxiety, has a hard time speaking up and is just super quiet, and just generally nervous all the time due to past trauma.

How do you think the skeletons would act towards an S/O being so shy??

Featuring: Sky, Honey, Red, Edge, Wine and Coffee.

Masterlist

Sky

You remind him of his brother a bit.. not completely since you two have a lot of differences yet it's probably the shy personality.

He has no problem with you being shy! He just wished you'd talk more when you two go out.. oh wait yeah you're socially anxious.

Sky does his best to keep you relaxed, he hates seeing people he loves nervous or anxious, he just hopes the methods he uses with his brother work with you too..

If you ever want to talk about your traumas with him, he'll feel honored, people only do this kind of thing when they trust each other, and to know you trust him enough to talk about traumatic things that have affected you in the past.. it makes him feel like he's one of the most important persons to you.

Please tell him if anything is bothering you, he doesn't want to see you uncomfortable nor panicked.

Honey

"Welcome to the club sweetheart.."

Honey also has a hard type speaking up, more with strangers than with people he's friends with, and his anxiety doesn't help much.

So, why not help each other out?

He's not the best, yet he's always there to listen to you if you'd like, and he'd be very happy if you'd hear him too.

At the end of the day, the books he writes are a distraction- an escape from reality he found to both make money and to do something he enjoys, so maybe you can find something to distract you too?

Your shyness doesn't bother him, if anything it's something he knows is a part of you, and he's always by your side when he can.

Red

Oh well, guess you two aren't really leaving the house..

Red doesn't really like leaving his house, so if he isn't working he's most definitely chilling on the couch.

He's not the best at giving advice, damn, the last time he gave someone advice that person tried to poison him, yet he'll be happy to listen to you if you're ever comfortable enough to do it.

Your shyness and quietness doesn't bother him in the least, it feels kinda good to just.. rant to you about work while cuddling y'know?

"Ya may not even realize, yet cha' make me the happiest skeleton in all earth sweetheart."

Edge

He's the literal opposite of you.

Edge has a talk with you, asking if you would like to have some therapy sessions, and if you agree he's already paying for it.

Tries to convince you to leave the house when he's not working and the weather is good, he doesn't force you but he'd be happy when you successfully socialize with someone, even just a little bit.

Stands up for you, no matter the situation. He's pretty famous because of his cooking you know? Who's gonna turn him down huh? One word and a security guard will take that person away.

He isn't someone to give advice about trauma, if anything he'd much rather hear you trauma-dump, that way he can find the best way to try and help.

Wine

His brother's just like you. He already knows what to do.

Won't force you to leave the house if you don't want to, yet he'll "reward" you with small things when you do, buying ice cream, plushies you want, books or video games if you like them.. you get the deal.

Something he noticed was wherever you go, his brother follows, guess Coffee finally found someone like him huh?

If someone even dares to be slightly rude towards you, Wine makes sure that person won't ever bother you again.

Anything you tell him, he'll give advice, no matter what it is.

Coffee

He's EXACTLY like you.

Coffee has a really bad social anxiety and has a hard time feeling comfortable to talk, so he mostly communicates by notes!

May influence you to do the same as him...

Doesn't bother him that you're quiet, quite the opposite actually, after hearing Rus and Cash ramble for HOURS on the swap papyruses reunion, he couldn't beg more for some silent cuddles with his loved one.

If you ever want to talk about your traumas with him, he's going to listen, even if he doesn't give the best advice.

[leiflitter]

It's been a year of You're Almost Home!

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Saltburn (2023)

Relationships: Felix Catton/Oliver Quick

For hi-ref images:

Here's some fun Leif Lore for you; I dropped out of my creative writing degree almost a decade ago, because apparently a combo of Life Stress and undiagnosed ADHD is really bad for academic success. Who knew? 

More importantly, a year ago today I opened a google doc and wrote, “Harriet went to Oxford the September after they threw Venetia's stone into the pond.” And I kept writing. And kept writing. And- well, you get the idea, we're coming up on 700k words, there's a reason I call it The Behemoth. 

In the past year I have done a lot. Moving house. Completing my apprenticeship. Lots of Gender Things. But I honestly consider You're Almost Home to be one of my greatest achievements. Not just because of the word count, but because my writing has made so many people happy. It's brought back a creative drive I thought I'd lost. It's brought me community and friendship. I've inspired people. 

I'm also going to be a soppy git here, but I mean it- I could not have done this alone. Every like, hit, kudos, comment, tumblr ask, discord message, ao3 bookmark, whatever, it gives my ADHD brain the chemicals I need to keep on going. So if you've interacted with YAH in any way… Thank you.

Some special thanks although I’m being vague otherwise this would be a mile long.

Extra special thanks to Vesper ( @mylovelookup ), for helping so much with this art project- and all my other art projects. I'm so glad we share crayons 🥰 You're an amazing artist and an inspiration on so many levels.

To all my friends (you know who you are). I fucking treasure all of you, I hope you know that. I'm so glad to have found people who I can vibe with so easily, and I'm proud to call you my friends. One day, when I rule the world, I'll buy a giant house and move you all in. Although I may not meet most of you in the meatspace, I hope we can, because I owe so many of you giant hugs. 

And, yeah, to Saltburn, for grabbing hold of my brain and refusing to let go. I hope that everyone can find something that resonates with them as strongly as this film did with me; it's been a fucking wild ride.

Happy YAHnniversary!

[featheredenby]

You’re very cool Cyan, love all the moon big stuff that you do! (I may or may not be making a moon fast rp blog because I think it would be funny. You are the inspiration of course.)

@queenarsinoethepoisoner you are one of the coolest people ever and the fact that you drew some of the characters from Show Your Fangs and leave translations and theories in the tags of every chapter and helps me brainstorm Slightly Singed Bridges.

@botanicalbard, @kingofdandelions, @lazy-cat13, @a-fable-lost-to-time. and @kiyagem I met all you guys through, on some level, the life winners liveblog. You guys are all super cool and I love the thought you put into your characters.

@iwillcausechaos and @aurum-the-yapper You guys are chaotic little guys and I platonically love you so much! I love the effort you put into Gairy and Aurum’s lore. You’re super awesome.

@jaded8insomnyac You’re cool! I don’t share any fandoms with you but you are very cool. Keep it up.

@insomnya777 I love your writing so much! Your boat boys AUs are amazing! I’m glad you’re my mutual.

(I think it’s funny that the two people above both have some form of insomnia in their names but spelled insomnya.)

@recklessufodriver The Bamboozlers art that you’ve done it draw dropping and stunning. Your art is so beautiful. Normally at this time I would say something along the lines of ‘I want to eat your art’ but you once painted a good looking moldy apple so I’m not sure about that expression.

@levidoesstuffs I know I tagged your side blog but the other one is a role play blog is idk. You’re super amazingly cool though.

@x-ocarina-of-crime-x You’re a fellow Minecraft where is blog runner and I respect that. You’re cool, you had the ender dragon bring me gender euphoria after all.

@featheredbirblet We have similar names. Yeah. That’s how we became mutuals. Feathered [blank].

By the way to the people who I tag who’ve gotten asks telling them what their souls would taste like, that was me.

i am also thankful for @literallyd34d and @belladonnamoonundead

[emo-trash101]

HELLO HELLO HELLO ONYX‼️‼️‼️

I SAW THAT YOU'RE BACK

I MISSED YOU SO MUCH OMG.

(and your writing but you're more important <3)

ALSO WITH ARCANE??? YOU FEED ME.

So yeah,you guessed it,Arcane asking time‼️

May I have Salo (He's my baby girl I love him he's my favorite LOOK AT MY WIFE HE'S SO PRETTY.),Silco,Singed,Vander,Ambessa,Mel,Jayce and Viktor (feel free to remove or change some of them,I just love giving people a wide range of characters to choose from!! I just want Salo the most ajgehhw) with a CHILD!reader (haha platonic asker is back >:3) that they basically adopted from Zaun with a weird condition that makes them need to breathe through a filtering mask? Because they can't breathe normal air and has to get a certain gas in their lungs otherwise they aren't okay? Imagine it breaking after they get in a fight with someone or fall and they all just panic...

So basically gas mask baby. Just a little silly guy.

So yeah!! I really hope you enjoy writing this prompt,my dear friend!!!

Don't forget to eat,drink and take breaks as always!!

Always stay proud!!

Your mutual and friend,

-Nina <33

OMG IK IM SO EXCITED TO BE BACK! ALSO HAPPY THANKSGIVING IF ITS THIS TIME OF YEAR FOR YOU :))

Salo, Vander, Jayce and Victor x Asthmatic! Child

Platonic

Pronouns: Second person

Tw: illness, potential child endangerment (It's arcane so ERM, what else do you expect) Also potential spoilers

Salo -

- I think he was like most people from piltover and was like "UHM, what is this dirty little dirt baby doing near me why are they coughing are they diseased?"

- I think the beginning of him taking you in would be like, he decides you probably shouldn't be in the road coughing and essentially on the verge of perishment.

- So he takes you to the nearest doctors office and is like fully prepared to just, disappear.

- That was until the doctor looks at him and says "Oh, councilor Salo, I didn't know you had a child?"

- After that he just, accepted his fate as a father.

- At first I don't think he would be that warm and comforting, but it's just generally an adjustment period.

- He learns to take care of you through long amounts of trial and error, and eventually you both form a decent connection.

- It wasn't exactly father and child, but more so friendly roommates

- That was until you finally got your diagnosis.

- Before now he was kinda just your dad in theory, sure he fed you and helped you when you cried and comforted you through long nights when you couldn't breathe but that was completely and totally just because he had to.

- But something inside of him just feels so sad for you when the doctor first straps your mask onto your face.

-After that your relationship changes for the better.

-You both seem to bond and become more close in a way that he wasn't exactly expecting.

-He becomes more vigilant about what you eat and what you're doing and making sure that you don't break your mask.

- Eventually, he feels more like your dad in a real sense, not just on metaphorical paper.

Vander (Pre ep3) -

- At first he wasn't exactly going to become fatherly figure to you.

- I mean after all he has 4 other children he has to look after and you surely have parents somewhere.

- It took one week for the powder and the others to get used to you being there, and 2 weeks for Vander to realize no one was coming for you.

- After that Vander decided that it was better to just take you under his wing and care for you.

- First thing he did after deciding that was getting into contact with the best doctor in Zaun to try and figure out why you were coughing so much.

- The next thing he did was try not to cry when they forced the mask onto you so that you could breathe.

- After that though, things went significantly well.

- You bonded more closely with Powder than anyone, mainly because of the feeling of being both the youngest and the least helpful.

- Even when they did take you on missions, you'd get out of breath, or get your mask broken.

- Vander learned very fast that he should learn how to fix it.

- But after that, everything was good, and you had a family for as long as that could last.

Jayce -

- Of most of the people in Piltover, I think he would be the one of the most inclined to help you.

- I feel like he would pretty consistently take walks out, and that's where he would find you.

- He would find you sitting against a wall coughing so hard it was sure to have been heard at least a mile away.

- He would definitely panic and try to talk to you and figure out what happened, and then realize that verbal communication is the least effective communication for him to have picked.

-So instead he picks you up and rushes you to the nearest doctors office.

- With the way that he's so panicked and treating you so kindly, the doctors just assume that he's your father.

- After the doctors explain to him what your illness is he immediately thinks of Victor.

- At first, his reason behind taking care of you was that he was just making sure you were okay before he looks for your real parents.

- But eventually, he just gets so used to you being around that he kinda just forgets that he should be looking for them, and instead just leans into the fatherly role.

- It took a lot of sleepless nights and a lot of conversations with Mel to figure out how to take care of a child and how to progress with your illness.

- And after all of it, he officially files for adoption of you.

- And he's the best dad you could ever ask for

Victor -

- Objectively, I think he would be the best out of all of them.

- He likely found you before he went to Piltover, and he took care of you almost immediately.

- He knows how it feels to be different from other kids your age, what it's like to be made just, wrong.

-He cares for you, and eventually he moves you both to Piltover.

-It was an extremely risky decision for him to have made, but it was for you to get a good doctor, and for him to get a good job.

- After you receive your mask and your diagnosis, he becomes more protective.

- He cleans your mask once a day to make sure it doesn't build up gunk and becomes more dangerous to your lungs.

- He also becomes more vigilant on what you're doing and if that can cause your mask to break.

- After he eventually receives his diagnosis, he decides that after his time is up that he's going to give you to Jayce.

- But before that time comes, he's gonna love you like you're his own.

UHM I feel like these got aggressively more depressing but it's probably fine, I hope you enjoyed this one Nina!

Make sure to drink water and eat food :)

[irkimatsu]

Anyone wanna spend Thanksgiving sprawled out in front of Overlord Husk's dinner guests while he rails you into the table?

Overlord Husk/F!Reader, Husk eats a nice Thanksgiving dinner and then helps himself to dessert while everyone else watches. Allusions to a gangbang are made but Husk isn't letting anyone else touch. Oral (both giving and receiving), ass licking (Reader receiving), vaginal sex, facial... and it's not a kink but Husk and Reader end up being pretty rude to an imp based on his species (and also based on the fact that he's an entitled fucking prick), so I may have to explore the implications of that one later. When I'm not writing nasty exhibitionist smut.

18+, obviously!

It’s your first Thanksgiving by Overlord Husk’s side, and it’s just as extravagant as you’d expected it to be.

About fifty people sit at the long table in one of the casino’s VIP lounges, each with heaping plates of food and overflowing glasses of liquor in front of them. Husk’s employees flit around the table, filling dishes before they can become entirely empty, while the crowd becomes more and more rowdy on the bottomless alcohol.

You’d normally be part of the serving staff, but Husk has decided he wants you by his side as his date tonight. He has you seated at the head of the table with him, dressed in a long, sparkling dress that shows just enough cleavage to entice curiosity, while also hiding enough to make it clear that most of tonight’s guests have no business staring.

Not that it stops anyone. As you indulge yourself with turkey, potatoes, and luxurious side dishes you’ve never imagined before, Husk’s guests can’t help but comment on you, as if you’re a doll that can neither hear nor comprehend their words.

“Husk’s still got that pretty thing on his arm, huh?”

“Longest I’ve seen him with the same one. Bet she’s amazing in the bedroom if he hasn’t gotten bored yet.”

“Lucky bastard… think he ever shares this one?”

“God, I hope so. After all this savory food, I could use some dessert! What about you guys?”

Husk initially seemed irritated at all the chatter directed at you, but he’s long since calmed down, his tail no longer lashing, his teeth no longer gritting. You know better than to believe he’s okay with it, though; more likely, he’s just letting his rowdier guests enjoy the holiday for now.

Their bodies will turn up behind the casino later tonight, surely.

One by one, Husk’s guests start denying refills on their plates and allowing the staff to take them away, although they’re more than willing to take more and more liquor into their glasses. Eventually, everyone has finished, including you and Husk, and all the platters have been cleared away, leaving nothing but the ornate table cloth and fifty glasses of drink; not one person had yet decided they’d had enough on that front. They’re already slurring their words and speaking much too loudly, but you know how much Husk’s usual crowd loves to party, so you can’t say it surprises you.

“Mmm, wonder what’s for dessert?”

“I know what I want. There’s something real sweet smellin’ right here at the table…”

“Fuck yeah, there is. Looks nice and soft, too. Can’t wait to sink my teeth in and get a taste…”

They aren’t even trying to be subtle as their predatory eyes keep flicking between you, and whichever companion they’ve chosen to gossip with about you.

“What toppings should we have with it? Some cream, maybe?”

“Should we get the girls to bring us some of the whipped stuff? Or maybe we can make some ourselves?”

“Fuck, why not both? Nothing wrong with some variety! Besides, our tasty little dessert deserves a treat of her own…”

The chatter of the crowd is interrupted by Husk lightly tapping his spoon against the side of his glass. It’s a subtle sound, but contains enough of his commanding charm to get every eye at the table turned toward him, all voices silenced.

“It sounds as though you’re all ready for dessert,” Husk says, a wicked smirk growing on his face. “Shall I get it prepared?”

The crowd begins whispering to each other, not quite ready to celebrate just yet.

“Do you think he’s really-”

“He heard us and hasn’t killed us yet, I think he’s gonna let us-”

One particularly wild-eyed guest is grabbing a staff member and desperately whispering to her to bring over some chocolate sauce and cherries this instant.

Husk’s claws lightly grab your chin, points oh-so-slightly pushing into your flesh, as he turns you to face him. “I’m going to get started on dessert. Is that okay with you, doll?”

Your eyes briefly flick to the fifty greedy faces locked onto you, before going back to your Overlord’s eyes. His pupils are wide, his gaze surprisingly soft… he wouldn’t really offer you up to this mob, would he? Not without asking you in advance? This is really something he should have prepared you for earlier this afternoon…

But deep down, you have to trust him. He’s never violated your boundaries before…

“I’m ready, sir,” you assure him.

“Very good.” He moves in to kiss your lips, so tender and loving, as he takes the zipper of your dress between his claws. “May I?” he murmurs against your mouth.

“Yes, sir,” you murmur back.

The crowd explodes in cheers as he pulls your zipper down, then slides your sleeves off your shoulders. You moan into his mouth as a warm paw engulfs one of your breasts, gently massaging it beneath a mix of fur and claw.

“You all aren’t wrong,” Husk announces to the crowd. “She’s just as sweet as you’re imagining…” He kisses from your lips to your cheek, over your jaw and down to your throat. You whimper as he nips at the front of your throat, and your voice inspires whispers of awe among the crowd. Quite a few guests have run out of their limited patience; they’ve already begun stripping down and tending to their physical needs.

You’re not interested in them. Instead, you run your hand down Husk’s chest, slowly tracing your fingers over the golden buttons of his jacket, before lightly resting your palm on his growing erection.

He lets out a growling laugh with his face still buried in your neck. “You want something sweet too, huh, baby? Don’t worry, you’ll get your fill… as long as I get mine, too…”

He leans you back far enough that you have to grip the tablecloth for balance as he latches his mouth onto your once-neglected breast. He holds you up with a palm pressed firmly between your shoulders as he feasts, suckling and nipping your breast on a determined mission to elicit the cutest little moans out of you.

The crowd is only growing more restless, talking louder and in great detail about exactly what they wish they were doing to you, exactly how they’re going to take you as soon as Husk hands you over. It’s almost flattering, the way they’re admiring your pleasure like this…

But with Husk’s mouth and paws on you, you don’t want to imagine anyone else coming near you. And with the possessive way he’s suckling on your breast, fangs leaving tiny pinpricks in your flesh, Husk doesn’t seem keen on sharing, either.

The hand holding your breast moves down so he can wrap his arm around your waist, and he lifts you with barely any effort. His mouth never leaves your chest as he lays you down on the table, glasses clattering as your back makes contact with the tablecloth. It’s a bit firmer than you’d normally like, but the cloth is surprisingly soft on your bare skin. You pull your arms out from the straps of your dress, then rest your hands on the back of Husk’s head as he feasts on you, scratching the base of his ears in the way that you know gets his chest rumbling.

Both paws start running up the outside of your legs and inside your dress, nails occasionally catching and tearing your stockings. He growls into you again as he hooks his claws into the waistband of your stockings and your panties and pulls, tearing them from your body with the slightest motion. He shoves the tattered remains off the table, and you notice two guests diving to grab the scraps.

How generous of your Overlord, to allow them that much.

He finally removes his mouth from your breast, revealing a bright red ring around your nipple to the audience, and hikes up your dress until everyone can see your nude bottom half.

“Holy fuck, she’s soaked,” you hear an observer say. “Little slut gets off this much from us watching her, huh?”

“Can’t wait to see what she does when we’re not just watching…”

Husk doesn’t say anything; any time spent talking is time spent without his face buried between your thighs, without his rough tongue drawing firm lines along your lips, without his teeth pinching possessive marks into flesh that’s already bruised from previous encounters. Your back arches against his ministrations, mouth and tongue worshipping everywhere he can reach except where you need it most.

“Sir- please-” You beg as you lightly tug his ears, your hips bucking; he’s not the type to just give you what you want right away, not before you ask nicely. “Sir- my clit-”

He pulls back just long enough to sling your legs over his shoulders, then dives back in, moaning as he buries his muzzle into your wetness. You gasp as the fur on his cheeks tickles your soaking thighs, but it’s not quite enough.

“My clit- please suck my clit, sir- please, I need it, please-”

Finally, you must have shown enough desperation. His cold nose presses against your mound as he latches his mouth onto your clit and gently bathes it with his tongue.

“Fuck, Husk-”

Scandalized “ooh”s and laughter roll through the crowd, but you’re too drunk on Husk’s mouth to notice.

“Someone’s forgetting her place…!”

“Hey, sir! Can I punish her for using your name like that? I’m good at making holes like her scream-”

Why should you care about what these idiots have to say about you? All you need is Husk suckling your clit, starting off gently but steadily going rougher, working loud, breathless gasps out of your mouth. He nuzzles into you further, moaning from your taste and from the way your public hair tickles his snout. You’re so lost in his mouth’s vibrations and the fronts of his teeth pressed into your mound that you barely notice the table creaking as someone climbs on top of it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stuff that disrespectful mouth-”

You’re vaguely aware of a thick, red cock in your face, but before you can react to it, Husk roars as he reaches out to grab the imp by his tail and lift him up to his face, leaving you gasping for breath on the table. The nude imp writhes in Husk’s grip like a captured mouse, squeaking out half-formed apologies.

“Did I say you could go anywhere near her?!” Husk growls.

The imp continues stammering, suddenly much less cocky, as the rest of the crowd falls into a stunned silence. “I’m sorry, sir, I thought we were all-”

“I’m the one who gets to eat first,” he continues to snarl. “The rest of you are only getting a show.” Husk turns his gaze from the insignificant thing squirming in his fist and to you, his eyes immediately softening at the sight of you. “Unless you want this thing’s hands on you?”

You’re sure Husk knew your answer before he even asked the question. “Of course not. I don’t care if he watches, but I only want your hands on me… Husk.” You emphasize his name, delighting in how the imp’s face twists in rage as your disrespect.

“Then that settles that.” He drops the imp onto the table with a thud, and the imp immediately scurries back to his seat and scrunches himself down, fully cowed by Husk’s threat.

You’d be surprised that Husk let him go relatively unharmed, but Lucifer knows what’ll happen to him the next time the Overlord gets him alone. Especially since imps don’t have the advantage of near-immortality on their side.

“Any other protests?” Husk asks, and no one at the table has enough of a death wish to speak up. “Good. Now…” He smiles softly as he traces his claw down the side of your face. “Shall we continue with our show?”

“Please,” you gasp. He answers your plea with another kiss to your mouth, his muzzle warm and wet and tasting just as much of you as of him, a delicious combination you’ll never tire of.

“How about you get on your hands and knees?” he asks, his dark velvet voice hypnotizing you into moving before you can think. You roll over onto your stomach beneath him, and his claws grip your waist and pull it off of the table. “Keep your chest down, that’s it…”

Your dress barely clings to your midsection, hiding nothing that this whole crowd wants to see. Instead of the raucous cheering from before, however, all you hear are whispers too hushed for you to make out any meaning from them.

They’re frightened, but still can’t stop staring and commenting… it’s a nice compliment.

“Watch and learn, boys,” Husk says with a laugh as the table creaks behind you. “I’m gonna show you exactly how to treat a pet. Maybe if you can ever figure it out, I’ll even let you touch this one… maybe. If she’ll let you.”

He presses a firm kiss to a fresh bruise on one of your thighs, then the other, then to your swollen, dripping lips. He gently suckles your lips, slurping up your wetness, before licking his way up over your taint and dipping his tongue into your ass. Your whole body shudders as his tongue dips in and out of your sensitive hole, and you can’t help but moan, your voice wordless and shaking.

You think you hear someone mutter, “whore”, but you don’t really care.

“Which hole, which hole…” Husk mutters to himself as he kisses your asshole, then kisses his way back down to your pussy. “Fuck, it all tastes so good, I can’t decide…”

You squeal happily as he suckles your clit again, bringing you closer to climax but not letting you over the edge just yet.

“What do you think, doll? I’m fuckin’ dying to be inside you, but I can’t make up my mind…”

“Fuck my pussy,” is the first thing out of your mouth. You’d love it either way, as long as you get to feel his cock inside you, but his tongue lapping at your cunt has your attention focused there.

“Hm?” He doesn’t move his mouth from you; you’re going to need to do some more convincing.

“Please fuck my pussy, Husk…” You push your waist back, moaning as you grind against his rough tongue. “Fuck me, baby…”

Husk laughs between your legs. “Trying to butter me up, doll?” he asks before kissing you one final time. He pulls away from you for a moment; and you hear fabric and metal shuffling behind you as he removes his clothes and lets them land where they please, whether on the table or on the floor. Once he’s stripped, he moves so that his chest is pressed against your back, his paws cupped around your breasts. “Or maybe you’re trying to show these assholes what they’ll never have?”

Both? You can’t think of any motive besides getting his cock inside you, now, god, now. His body is so warm against yours, his silky fur slides so beautifully against your skin, and the combination of his cologne and the natural scent of his fur is just as intoxicating as the rum you were just drinking.

You don’t need to answer to get him to grind his cock between your lips, his barbs brushing beautifully over your lips and clit.

“I know you can cum just from this, baby,” he murmurs into your ear, then laughs at the pathetic squeal you make as his cockhead catches against your clit just fucking right. “But I’m not feelin’ very patient right now, if you don’t mind…”

“Fuck me,” you gasp out as his hips press against your ass, stimulating you yet also making you feel so fucking empty. “Please… please, Husk, fuck me…”

“You’re so cute when you’re desperate…” He presses a kiss to your cheek as he pulls back and slides forward again, this time stretching you open with his head. The room grows dead quiet, allowing his kisses and the wetness of his shallow thrusts to echo through the air for everyone to hear. You groan as he pushes deeper, his soft barbs brushing wonderfully against your walls and making him feel even thicker than he already is. “Fuckin’ tight, baby…” he groans before another kiss.

He always starts you off slowly; you’ve gotten much better at taking his barbs in the months that you’ve been with him, but he always wants to be damn sure you’re okay before he takes what he really needs. While his long thrusts from head to base normally help to ease you into things, tonight, your gut burns so deeply with need that this sort of preparation only serves as torture.

“Fuck me, Husk…” you moan, voice slurring on liquor and hormones. “I can’t take it anymore…”

“Already? If you’re sure… let’s show them what you can do.” His paws tighten on your breasts as he picks up his pace. He starts out withdrawing just as slowly, before ramming his whole length into you with all the force he can muster. A few strikes to the sweet spot deep inside of you have you clawing at the tablecloth, forehead pressed to the table as muffled moans and whines pour from your mouth.

“C’mon, baby, c’mon…” Husk’s paw gently tugs at your hair, pulling your face off of the table. “Let them hear you…”

After replacing his paw on your breast, he begins fucking you again, leaving less time between each deep thrust. You still can’t keep your head up, but you manage to lay it on its side, allowing everyone to hear your moans and one side of the table to see the way your face twists every time he bottoms out. You see their own faces twist in response; some of them look like they’re about to snap already, especially the pair that are now using your torn panties and stockings as masturbatory aids.

“Harder,” you moan as you thrust your waist back against his. “Fuck me harder!”

“Needy thing,” he chuckles, his grip on your breasts tightening as he kisses over your cheek and neck. Once his mouth reaches your shoulder, he gently sinks his teeth in, his tongue lapping up tiny droplets of blood as he ruts faster and faster. His barbs grow firmer inside you, rubbing against every sensitive spot from your entrance to your core with such intensity that you almost break.

“You guys wanna see a trick?” Husk asks, near breathless from exertion. “Her hands are on the table, mine are on her tits, no one’s touching her clit… but…” He bites your shoulder again, harder this time, as he ruts even faster. Your screams are starting to hurt your throat, but you have no desire to stop letting him know the hold he has on you. Hardened barbs rub against your walls, threatening you with pain but only truly delivering pleasure, until-

“Fuck! Husk!”

He moans against your shoulder as you clench around him, your whole body shuddering with orgasm. It does nothing to stop his frenzy, each thrust extending your climax until you’re not sure how much more you can take. Just as you’re about to cry out from overstimulation and beg him to please cum inside already, he pulls out of you, releasing your shoulder with a relieved gasp.

“God, that was close…” he groans with a shivering voice. “You see that? Once you learn how to make a pussy cum from the inside, you’ll have dolls begging you for a ride.” He leans down again, his heavy breaths warming your ear. “Isn’t that right, baby?”

You barely have any voice left, so you answer with an affirmative hum as he chuckles and kisses your ear.

“Prove you can do that, and maybe I’ll let you show off inside her someday. Until then… how are you doing? Think you can turn toward me?”

Your muscles are heavy as lead, but knowing what’s being asked of you and why gives you the strength to turn around. You lift yourself up on shaking arms and raise your head until your mouth is relatively level with his dick, hard and throbbing and slick with your cum.

“Clean me off?” He barely has time to ask before your mouth is wrapped around his head and greedily suckling down his precum. “Fuck, I don’t even need to ask… good fucking girl…” He pushes on the back of your head, urging you to thrust him in and out of your mouth. You curl your tongue beneath his shaft, and he hisses through his teeth as you press it up against him, cursing quietly whenever it hits a barb just right.

“Babe,” he exhales as he pushes against the back of your throat, smothering you beautifully in his pubic fur and musk. You’re gagging and drooling, but you know he’d let you pull back if you wanted. It’s just that he can tell you’re not even trying to escape. “Fuck, baby, I’m not gonna last-” He groans loudly as he ruts into your throat, urging out a few more wet-sounding gags. “Haaah… you guys like that sound, don’t you…” He thrusts again, and swears again. “I know I fucking do…”

He pulls out of your mouth in one fluid motion, leaving you coughing drool and precum onto the lower half of your face. You nuzzle the side of your face against his soaked cock and moan, visibly delirious with lust. “I wanna suck you more… please…”

“I know you do, baby, but I’ve got another idea,” he says as he lightly strokes your head. “You want my cum?”

“Please, I need your cum-” you beg. “In my throat, in my cunt, wherever you want- please-”

“Wherever I want, huh?” he asks. “Then how about you look up at me, stick your tongue out? There you go, so fucking pretty… both hands on my dick, squeeze me real nice…”

You follow his commands by reflex, barely thinking about anything other than how badly you need his cum inside you. You don’t care where; as long as you have that proof that you’ve satisfied your master, your Husk.

“I heard them talking earlier about how they wanted dessert topped with cream,” he says with a laugh. “What do you say, baby? Wanna give the crowd what they want?”

Your breathing hitches as what he wants dawns on you. “Please,” you urge as you jerk his cock with both hands. “Cum on me-”

“No talking, tongue out,” he says curtly, his voice tight; he’s not going to last long, and he needs you back in position as soon as possible. It feels like only an instant before Husk howls, his hot seed spurting all over your face and tits. It’s so hard for you to sit still when you want to catch every drop on your tongue, but even without you trying, he makes sure to give your mouth as healthy a load as he’s given your skin. His knees buckle as the last of his cum dribbles down his shaft, and he moans in what almost sounds like pain as you lick it off of him.

“C’mon, baby, I’m sensitive…” he chuckles as his knees finally give way. He’s able to lower himself onto the table slowly enough to not crush it, and as soon as he’s kneeling at your level, he’s holding your chin and smiling. “Such a good job… that’s my girl.” He kisses you deeper than he has all night, his tongue apparently searching for any drop of his own seed you may have remaining in your mouth. The two of you swap the remains back and forth, lips parted just enough to let the crowd see the glob of white on your entwined tongues. After the kiss breaks, he moves down to your breasts to lick up some of the cum he left there, then moves back up for another heated kiss. “So? How was dessert?”

“Amazing,” you assure him as you kiss his mouth yet again. “You know, I wouldn’t mind seconds…”

“Greedy little thing… the others haven’t had theirs yet.” He kisses you again, then slides off the table and holds out his paw to help you down as well. “I’ll have the staff change the tablecloth and bring out the rest of the desserts. We’ve got cakes, pies, puddings, and of course a selection of sweet liquors. Eat and drink to your fill! We’ve also got cigars, if you’d like to relax after your dessert. God knows I fucking need one right now…”

Already you’re comforting yourself with thoughts of being curled up in Husk’s lap, breathing in his cigar smoke as you drift off to sleep in the haze of your afterglow, his arm holding you close, his wing hiding you from prying eyes who have seen enough and don’t need any more…

Husk turns to help you zip your dress back up; thankfully, it’s long enough to hide the fact that your panties are long gone, and after seeing what they were used for, you don’t particularly want them back.

You’ll be nice and let those two keep their souvenirs.

“When everyone heads home, I’ll get you a few more helpings,” he promises with another kiss.

[queenburd]

I write this post with the caveat that I was into TSP and TSPUD before discovering Cl0ck 0ut and I never joined any servers around it, so the impact to me is extremely minimal compared to many others who were heavily inspired by it. I recognize that while it's sickening to me, it's even harder for the people who joined the TSP fandom because of Cl0ck 0ut.

I'm also extremely on the fringes of the fandom in general, I've never gone out of my way to interact with people who are more well-known for their narrator designs. I don't know that this post is going to reach its intended audience that much.

With all that aside, I really want to tell the people who are extremely hurt and reeling and sick to their stomach something that I think is pretty important:

You may have been introduced to TSP from watching Cl0ck 0ut, and it may have inspired you, but it is not the thing that kept you here interested in the game. You're in this fandom because you found like-minded people, maybe through the animation sure, and continued to make connections beyond that surface-level one.

Look, I've been here before. I'm not old, but I'm in my late twenties now and I've been in fandom circles for nearly 2 decades. There were inevitably times where the fanbase learned bad things about the creator, or a specific "big time" fan whose works they liked. It does suck, it does hurt, you're more than allowed to feel betrayed and sick and stressed.

A lot of what got me through it was having other people to talk to, who understood because they were also going through it. They understood because they were in that same fandom with me, we had met through it. The thing that mattered was that I had friends I had made beyond a superficial initial connection.

You made bonds. You created things (headcanons, art, stories, theories) with other people, and you still enjoyed the initial thing, yeah, but you enjoy it more because of the extra layers of connection that it led you to! But remember, please remember, that while it was a jumping off point, and you might attach a lot of value to it for that, it didn't do the work. You and other people did that. And that's the real valuable thing. That doesn't have to be stained with the bad feelings, I promise. It can and has evolved past the initial connection.

It's gonna sting for a while. That's understandable. If you need to take a break from creating, no one can blame you. But keep your connections with other people. Keep your friends.

(And if you made things that were directly inspired by Cl0ck 0ut designs or initial story, I can understand if you're feeling extremely uncomfortable with making more of it. I have a couple fanfics I was reading that were based off it.

At the end of the day, do what makes you most comfortable, even if that includes putting it down and never picaking it up again; but know that people liked what you were making, again, not because it was Cl0ck 0ut based, but because you were doing interesting and unique things with the premise. That's what fandom does with any media, and the story you were crafting does not, I think, need to be wholly discarded despite its premise having...'issues'.)

[fayfaygoes]

"Omg I can't wait for Caleb , can't wait for Childhood friend to lover troupe"

I can't stress this enough.

Guys

GUYS

Caleb is not Just a "childhood friend" troupe HE IS GEGE .

It might sounds off putting but many part of Asia we refer to acquaintance or neighbors child slight older than us "Brother"/"Sister" ,call their parents uncle and Auntie's . And it will stay that way maybe later in Life.

But that doesn't mean they are off the partner list when you grow older .

Alot of my girls I know dating guys they used to call "Vaiya" / "Dada" which means Brother ,they still slip that off sometimes.

We all know the Korean word Oppa , it's used AGEYO too . It's so much used in koreaboo section that some people finds the word outright intolerable and Cringe .

But Oppa literally means Older brother and used to refer guys/classmates Older . Yeah you can call your Boyfriend Oppa it's not abnormal regardless of how you feel about it .

Another point-

You know how You set your nickname in game like honey girlfriend etc.

Well there's one nickname you can set in English.

It's "Darling"

But yk what I noticed all the time when I write that name down and have JP voiceover on.

They don't go "Da~rin~" like how you your expect darling to sound in JP accent.

Yk what they say

"NEe - SAN"

and you know what that translates too?

OLDER SISTER .

So yeah you are making them Call you NEE SAN .

But obviously English can't localize it literally so they are writing "Darling" ( I don't have knowledge about the CN part please lmk if yk)

So yeah it may sound Icky to you but there's chances are I would end up with a guy in my work area that I perhaps called Big brother in my language in past ,and there isn't something weird about it. And it shouldn't be made into weird stuff either . It comes quite naturally ,it's not Sweet home albama it's cultural difference.

I am referred to as an older sister by many young men out of respect but it stops there . My real siblings are the ones by blood .

And for Caleb you guys have to accept that and if you do ,Stop hating on him purely for this fact .

En localization team likely knew this is hard to accept and out of comfort zone

that's why they changed to "he is childhood friend" but in voiceover she calls him Gege

GEGE

Voiceover doesn't change that ,and they don't have to because it's understandable when u are used to that happening .

Despite all those connections and links. The Dr. Zayne meeting the MC in childhood and that plays a role .

He FALLS in childhood friend to lover troupe in the literal sense .Not Caleb ,he has a different connection to her in dynamic,that involves treating each other in sibling ways .

Not everyone you call "older brother" / "older sister" you end up pinning for ,that's not what happens. But if you do as two consenting adults there's Nothing wrong WITH it .

So If it was a normal character MC was acquainted with ,then how you view her calling him Gege is Up to your interpretation,it can be anything.

But since it's an OTOME and he is most definitely gonna come back .

So yeah this time You are romancing that GEGE FOR SURREEEE

You guys aren't staying behind that title where you both will continue maintaining safe distance and took them out of the chart as if they are off limit. You are FCKING.

You can accept that , it's one of those cultural compromises

You can enjoy the En localized part if you want but actual intended interpretation should NOT make you retaliate and be defensive stating how Caleb is not that he is childhood friend troupe yada yada yada.

I saw some say Caleb is the actual Childhood friend to lovers troupe because zayne doesn't do the troupe correctly 😶

Each of the lads LIs have Uniqueness in more than one area to the point they don't stand in the same category . Zayne & Caleb is not the same category LIs either and it's not purely for sole fact "oh Caleb is different than zayne, different personalities etc" there is more difference ,troupe has DIFFERENT TITLES.

She has known him as Gege for so long y'all aren't ready for the angst of possible romance coming in between ,the self guilt ,the self restriction ... EVERYTHING.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

heyyy I'm the anon who was kind of freaking out about the yuus in the anime 😭😭😭

you're right, I should probably just focus on my enjoyment and not the fandom- it's smth I've always struggled with. but I just saw ppl who clearly never had heard of twst saying "reverse harem" stuff and that's why i started panicking 😭

but yeah... I guess we'll have to wait and see. thank you for ur opinion and for your advice 🫂

[Referencing this post!]

Hello and welcome back!! Thanks for checking in. I hope that my response helped to ground anyone who might have been having similar thoughts or feelings. I know I can come off as stern or even disappointed in my advice posts, so 💦 if you got something out of it, then that makes me glad.

I think it's safe to say that fandom is a double-edged sword. It offers a community of people with the same interest to talk, interact, and create with--but in fostering that community, we can sometimes become so obsessed with defending it or caring about that community's opinions. It's important to draw the distinction between yourself and the fandom you engage with so you can still enjoy Twst on your own terms, separate of fandom. Otherwise, we may take things too personally and react very emotionally when we perceive others as treating Twst or its community in a way we don't approve of. Again, you should definitely prioritize yourself because ultimately we're not in fandom to argue with people, we're in fandom to have fun.

I've said this before, but I'll say it again because it might be helpful for those moments when panic strikes again. When you see someone making a claim about your fandom or related projects that makes you upset:

Stop yourself before you say or type something you might regret later.

Take a deep breath. Maybe sip some water.

Ask yourself questions like:

"Is what I'm about to say/write based on evidence or is it based on a gut feeling or a strong emotional reaction I'm having?"

"Am I expressing my opinion in a way that may be perceived as unfriendly or hostile?"

"How would I feel if I saw someone else assuming this about something I care about or was considering getting into?"

"Do I know the person misinterpreting my fandom? Whether yes/no, do I, on an individual level, care what they think? Why?"

"Does the person misinterpreting my fandom alter my own enjoyment or understanding of it? If not, what might the source of my anger and upset be?"

"The block and mute buttons exist. Is this an issue using one of those might resolve, or is it something that must be said or interacted with?"

Of course, I don't mean to police how you act and react in this space. These are only suggestions based on what I like to do. These strategies may not work for you, or you may not be interested in them at all. And that's okay! The only takeaway I'll ask of you is that you continue to navigate the Twst fandom in a mindful manner :>

[littlespacereader]

Hi!!!!!!

Could you do an autistic Little gn y/n with Remus and Sirius Cgs! 🥺 and like a hurt/comfort/ overstimulation kinda story plot, or maybe bullying situation 😅🥰

@shadowlord23 AHHHHHHHH!!!! Amazing request!! My heart!🥺🥹😭😭😭💞💞 First of all I love Remus and Sirius so much!! I might make this a series with how much I enjoyed writing this!! Plus the prompt itself is so adorable🥹💞I hope you don’t mind this this fic focuses more on Remus, but I promise you if you send me another request I will make it around the two home for the holidays! I sincerely hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you for the request @shadowlord23 ! Love ya bestie! 💞

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!!🦃🍂🍁

Holiday Break🚂🍂

Caregiver! Remus Lupin and GN Little! Reader (SFW!)

Tags - bullying, thumb sucking, hurt/comfort, cuddles, hugs, hand holding

Remus would like to think of himself as not your average Professor. He likes to have fun, steer from the textbook and be more hands on with his students. But more than anything he prides himself of looking out for them, making sure they pass yeah, but more than anything that they’re having a good time in his class.

The holiday break is right around the corner. And with it, finals season. So with the stressful atmosphere, Remus made sure to keep a careful eye on one of his students in particular.

One student peaks his interest. Y/N, in (you fav house). They don’t make eye contact much and they’re more on the quiet side, but they’re always paying attention, always so engaged with the class and the subject despite the early morning hours.

They never asked questions durning the class, always saving their comments for him privately after the rest of the students let out. Their pure excitement for the subject always brings a smile to his face.

Occasionally they may be drawing in their notebook occasionally, or playing with a fidget toy, but Remus always knew it’s their way of focusing on him and his lecture.

But with this he noticed they were picked on by other students, specifically those in Slytherin. Comments here and there, occasionally a small shove when they left the class.

When he saw it, he always called it out, feeling a protectiveness for the kind and gentle student. There was something about them getting picked on, that made the hair on the back is his neck stand up.

He thought he had put an end on it. But he was sadly mistaken…

It was late, far later than anyone should really be up. But Remus was hard at work grading the last of his papers before the holiday break. He didn’t want to bring his work home again. He wanted a nice quiet holiday break, at home with his husband by his side.

He’s already received three letters from his husband today. Just from the sheer number, he could tell Sirius was just as eager to have him home as he was.

The letters entailed the details of what they had to do when he got home, all the holiday errands they had to go on, and the details to his train ride:

I’ll meet you at the station my darling.

See you soon,

Sirius♡

He couldn’t wait…not for the shopping but for being back home. But now? He had a stack of papers to finish grading. He sat at his desk at the head of the class. Dim candle lights lit the quiet classroom as a tired Remus worked though the late night ours.

Suddenly there’s a commotion down the hallways. At this hour? He thought to himself. He stood from his desk listening closely. It sounds like…running.

Before his mind could wonder more the door to his classroom swim open and close fast. There, a panting Y/N presses their back to the door.

“Y/N?” Remus heart drops at the sight of the scared student. Immediately he stands from his desk and rounded it, his arms opening to them.

With tears falling down their face, they ran down the row of desk and into his arms, clinging to him like a lifeline.

Immediately Remus engulfs them into a hug, wrapping his arms around the shaking student. “Y/N, my dear what’s going on? What’s got you so scared?”

The problem was Y/N was beyond words, instead settling for crying in Remus arms, unable to express themselves yet.

Remus tries his best to wrap his head around what’s happening while also comforting the crying student. “You’re okay, I’ve got you, you’re safe now.”

Before he comes to the conclusion of what’s going on, he heard voices in the hallway:

“Where did the baby go?”

“We couldn’t have lost them! They’re not that fast.”

“They probably went in the classroom like last time! Come on!”

The door to his classroom swung he open once again. He felt Y/N hide tighter against him as four students, the same year as Y/N, run into the room in the hopes of finding them alone. They were sadly mistaken.

The two Slytherins, one Ravenclaw and Gryffindor freeze seeing the defense against the dark arts teacher standing comforting a crying Y/N.

Before they could turn to run, Remus calls out to them in a stern voice, “Not another step! Take a seat, all of you this instant or I will have each of your headmasters here.”

He feels Y/N hold onto him a little tighter as the bullies enter the classroom and take a seat at different desk, grumbling as the do so.

He glared at the students, his heart pumping with fury. How long has this been going on? But hearing the small sniffles of the student in his arms, he knew he had to take charge of the situation.

“Y/N,” he say gently, kneeling down to meet their teary eyes, “I want you to go in my quarters and wait for me. I’ll be in there in a minute okay?” He smiles, caressing their face.

But he could see the hesitation in their eyes, the vulnerable uncertainty. “I…’m sorry.”

Remus sighs shaking his head, “You are not in any trouble darling. I just want you to stay safe while I deal with the others. But you are in no trouble what so ever.”

They nod back to him, sticking their thumb in their mouth to soothe them more. But he didn’t think twice of the action, if anything it was making things fall into place with Y/N.

He stands taking their hand, “Just that door right there,” he points to the door towards the back of the classroom, “I’ll be there in the blink of an eye.” He smirked back down to them with a small wink.

With a small pat to their back they go off to Professor Lupin’s quarters, giving him once last glance. He smile again, giving them a nod of encouragement. They nod back, grabbing the doorknob and entering his quarters.

The moment that door closes, Remus’ smile drops. He turns his attention to the bullies, prepared to sink his teeth into their behavior…metaphorically speaking of course.😅

~~~

Walking into Professor Lupin’s quarters and closing the door behind me, everything starts to settle down. The pressure of everything dies down along with the noise.

It’s my fault really. I shouldn’t have gone out after dark…I knew they’d find me again….

But now I had someone to protect me this time, I didn’t need to be afraid. It…it’s a nice change.

I go over and sit on his bed. The room is small, just a bedroom, a small bathroom and a big desk.

I can hear him talking sternly in the other room but it’s hard to make out anything he’s saying. But the tone and emotion shine through. I didn’t want to make any trouble for him, I just…I just don’t want to be afraid.

More tears fall as I feel a sense of overwhelming guilt. This is all my fault… I can’t stop the regression that pulls at me.

I don’t know how long I sit there before I hear the open to his quarters. I immediately lift my head up and look at my kind Professor.

Tears continue to fall as he comes over to my side, “You’re okay Y/N. You’re safe now.”

“I’m sorry!” I start to cry.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You did nothing wrong. In fact, you did everything right.”

Wait…what? I did? I lift my head and look at him confused. “I…I did?”

“Yes. You were in trouble and you ran somewhere you felt safe. That brought you to me.” He lights up saying, “And I’m happy you did because I put an end to this once and for all. They will never bother you again.”

I look at him in awe, so happy and utterly relieved. “Really?”

“Really.” He smiles back, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize this was happening sooner. But now it’s over with, they will never bother you again if they know what’s good for them.”

He sits beside me on the bed, opening his arm to me. I immediately sit closer allowing him to put his arm around my back.

I lean against his side, the two of us sitting like that for a while, enjoying the moment and myself enjoying the comfort. My thumb finds its way back to my mouth as I rest against his side.

“Y/N,” he says breaking the comforting silence of the room, “Do…Do you happen to regress? It’s okay if you do, it’s actually very healthy thing to do if you’re feeling scared or overwhelmed. I just need to know to better care for you.”

I nod against him, feeling so content for the first time in a long time. “Yeah. I do.” I lift my head from his shoulder and look back to him only to find him smiling back to me.

“And you don’t have anyone to take care of you? Does Madame Pomfrey know?”

I shake my head no, “I don’t trust anyone else to know…only you.”

I can see how it warms him, “I appreciate that you trust me with something like this. I promise to not betray that trust.” He holds me a little closer.

“Well this just leads me to my next question then.” He leans forward rubbing my back, “What are you planning on doing for the holiday break?”

I shrug, “No…I was just planning on staying here.” It sounds worse saying it out loud. Not that Hogwarts wasn’t nice to stay at…but it would nice to be home for the holidays.

“I’m sorry to say Y/N, but with you being regressed as you are I’m afraid you leave me no choice...” He stands and my heart races. No choice?

He smile back to me, offering me his hand, “You’ll just have to come home with me for the Holidays.”

My eyes light up, “Y-You want me?”

“Sirius and I would be honored to have you for the holidays! I have a feeling he’ll have us running around shopping one of those days but, we’ll make it through together.” He jokes. “I don’t think I could leave Hogwarts without having you by my side. So, would do you say?”

What do I say?! Are you kidding me? Of course the answer is yes!

“Yes!! Yes! A million times yes!” I practically jump into his arms.

He chuckles, hugging me back gently, “We’ll be so honored to have you spending the holidays with us. Sirius is going to love you as much as I do.”

The rest of the night he goes over the plan for tomorrow. He sends Sirius a late night owl message and I get to add a little bit to the end of it.

Then with the owl sent, Professor Lupin walks me back to my house’s dormitory. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, no later than 8 am. Got it?” He says with a smirk.

“I’ll be there!” I smile back. With another hug, we part ways for the night.

In the morning I rush around my room, grabbing my trunk and throwing it on my bed. I fill it with everything and more! Every stuffie I could think of I’m brining along for my journey to Professor Lupin’s house at Grimmauld Place.

I run down the empty hallways, trunk in hand with my robe and scarf on. Most had already left yesterday, we’re taking the train this morning.

I could barley sleep, so excited for the adventure today! I ran back into the classroom and into his quarters in the back. “Today‘s the day!!”

~~~

Remus couldn’t be happier seeing the spirited Little run into his room, trunk in hand, ready to go. “All set?” He smiles, closing his own trunk and grabbing his satchel.

“Yeah! I’ve got everything! I’m so excited!” In a second they’re by his side.

“Wonderful darling! Then we’re all ready for our big adventure home.” He walks over and grabs his robe, but pauses seeing the open letter from Sirius this morning.

He grabs it before walking back over to Y/N, “Sirius sent this right before you arrived, take a look what it says.”

He watches Y/N eagerly grab it, reading it like to line, growing more excited with every sentence. “He says he can’t wait for me to come!” They look back up to him, bouncing on their feet.

“See? I told you he would! And if he said he didn’t, well then I’d just have to sneak you in myself.” He jokes getting a giggle from them.

“Come on, it’s time to head to the train! We have a long ride ahead of us”. With his robe on and his trunk in hand, he offers his extra hand to Y/N who gladly takes it.

Together they walk down the main stairs and to the front gates of Hogwarts. A carriage takes them to the Hogwarts station where they board the train. Remus helps them put their trunks up, before they take a seat and relax.

The train ride goes wonderfully! Remus grabs them some goodies from the trolly, then Y/N takes out their trunk and shows him every single stuffie and while there isn’t many he makes sure he properly introduces himself to each one.

Between the late night the two had and the early morning train ride, the relaxing train swaying down the tracks lulls the two to into a nap. Y/N sleep on Remus’ lap, head resting against his shoulder while he has his arms wrapped protectively around them.

They don’t even stir them the train makes its way into King’s Crossing Station. They only begin to wake up when there’s a knock at their cabin door.

Y/N whines, rubbing their eyes as Remus lifts his head to the knocking waking up as well, “Yes? Who is it?”

Sirius swings the cabin door open smiling at the sight of the two. “What are you two up to? Sleeping already? But the holiday break has just begun!”

“And you must be Y/N,” He kneels down and opening his arms to Y/N, “I’m Sirius Black. Welcome home Little one!”

[serickswrites]

Lonely Place of Longing XVII

Master list link here (includes chapter links, summary, and character bios)

A/N: Alright friends, we have reached the end of yet another longer series. I really, really adored these characters. Like so much. So much to the point that I have completely plotted out (and started writing) the prequel as well as begun to plan a sequel! So there is a lot more Dylan, Halle, and Owen in the future!

And I hurt my own feelings with this series. So yeah, you can be mad at me. Just know that I am already suffering lol

Warnings: blood, wounds, unconsciousness, cpr, mcd, cruelty, grief, dissection mention, captivity, heartbreak

“No. NO. NO. Dylan! PLEASE! GOD NO!” Halle screamed as Dylan’s stuttering breath went out in a quiet exhale. She waited for him to take another wheezing breath. But none came. “Come on, love, come on. Breathe! You have to stay with me.” Halle slid her legs out from underneath Dylan’s body, knelt next to him, and quickly began compressions. “You can’t leave me! You can’t! I need you!”

Each word was punctuated by her pumping his chest. Her vision blurred as she sobbed. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be it. Dylan hadn’t meant any of it. He loved her. He saved her. He was dying. He couldn’t be dying.

But as Halle pumped harder and harder, longer and longer, Dylan didn’t take a breath. Didn’t gasp for air and open his eyes. He lay beneath her hands, body moving as she pumped, eyes closed, features slack. He was still except for Halle’s movement.

Something inside Halle’s chest broke. She couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t happening. She had failed him. She had failed him in so many ways. But he hadn’t failed her. She was safe. She was alive. “Please,” she sobbed as she stopped pumping his chest. “Please, come back.”

But no matter how much she begged, no matter how much she sobbed, Dylan did not come back. And so she sat, for who knew how long, with him, coated in his blood, knowing that this was all her fault. He was dead because of her. Because he loved her. Dylan was dead because of Halle.

Things became blurry after a while. People moved around her. But she didn’t care. She didn’t care that she had made a scene, had exposed her secret, trying to save Dylan. She didn’t care that the others knew how much she loved him. She didn’t care about anything because Dylan was gone.

Somehow, Halle found herself back at Tectus. She had refused to leave his side. Had refused to leave him behind. Though she realized that Thomas, that the Authority, wouldn’t have wanted his body in the wrong hands. Dylan wasn’t free, even in death, of Scutus.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to their empty room. Dried blood flaked from her finger onto the floor. He was never coming back. And she couldn’t even keep him safe after. Though she had tried.

“Do not let the body out of your sight.” Thomas had ordered Aubrey and Lysander to take Dylan’s body away. “The other weapon is a total loss. Totally completely destroyed. It will take us weeks to gather all the pieces. We need to preserve this body. Do not let it out of your sight. Do not let anything happen to it. This is our last chance to understand why this weapon is different. I will not let it ruin all that we have worked for.” Thomas glared at the stretcher. “It may have ended up wasting what it was given, wasting its life. I won’t let it be a waste now. Take it to the research lab. See what they need.”

“NO!” Halle had thrown herself at the stretcher Aubrey and Lysander carried. Someone had thrown the blanket over his face, but hadn’t bothered to be sure he was fully on the stretcher as one arm hung limply, swinging with the movement. “PLEASE!” She screamed as she took his cold hand in hers.

“Return to your quarters until either myself or Samuel summon you,” Thomas said. “We will be discussing your release of duty that Dylan bargained for. Remain in your quarters until you are summoned.”

Halle refused to move. Dylan had given so much for her. What did he give away so she could be free? What did it cost him? He would never be free, so why free her? She didn’t care. She couldn’t let them take Dylan away. She had to protect him. Had to save him of one last thing. She couldn’t let him go. She stared at the blanket, knowing what lay beneath. This wasn’t happening.

Aubrey shifted, trying to move the stretcher away from her. All Aubrey succeeded in doing was pulling the blanket off.

Dylan looked like he was sleeping, his features slack and peaceful. But as Halle fought more and more to stay, to keep his hand in her grip, more and more of the blanket slipped off until Dylan’s body was completely exposed once more. Until she could see the wounds that caused him to bleed out. Until she could see the wounds that he got trying to save her.

Dylan was dead.

Dylan was dead because of her.

Halle dropped to her knees as she began to sob once more. “I’m sorry. Please. Please, love. Please.”

“Take her to her quarters and see that she doesn’t leave,” Thomas ordered. Helena and Andrea stepped forward, ready escort Halle back to her quarters.

“NO!” She screamed as they hooked their arms underneath her arm pits. She fought with everything she had to keep from being separated from Dylan. She was never going to see him again.

“The weapon is dead. It’s useless now. Forget about it.” Helena hissed as she pulled harder on Halle.

“No! NO!” Halle wouldn’t let them talk about Dylan like that. They were all alive because of Dylan.

“You’re making a scene,” Andrea whispered in her ear. “Don’t make this any worse. You’re going to be court martialled if you don’t let go. Do you want his death to be in vain?”

She couldn’t breathe. Her chest felt full of lead. This was real. This was happening. Dylan was dead. Dylan was dead and it was her fault. This was because of her.

“They’re going to dissect the body. Do you want to see what they do to broken weapons in R & D?”

Halle felt nauseous. She was dizzy. She couldn’t see that. Couldn’t let them do that to Dylan. But as she watched Thomas glare at her, she realized she had no power. She dropped Dylan’s hand with a sob. She let Helena and Andrea escort her back. She could barely walk. Could barely breathe. Dylan was dead. Dylan was gone. Dylan died because of her. She didn’t want to be awake for any of it any longer. She flung herself onto the bed as she began to sob once more. Paper crinkled beneath her fingers.

Sweetheart. The outer flap of the envelope read. Dylan had such neat, distinctive writing, there was no mistaking it. Halle didn’t hesitate and ripped the paper from the envelope.

Sweetheart, I’m sorry I had to lie to you. I’m sorry I had to push you away. I thought it would keep you safe. I realize I was wrong now. I wish I had known it sooner. I wish I could have said all of this sooner. I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you.

Tears tracked down Halle’s cheeks. He had known. He had known that this was a suicide mission. And still he came for her. He had walked into the fire knowing he wouldn’t make it out, but that she would.

I was born over a century ago in a small country in the sea that no longer exists. I was poor. I was happy. I had a loving family. I had a life I loved. My world was small, but it was all that I knew. All that we knew. Owen and I were inseparable. Even when the war came we were always together. And when they burned our home to the ground, when the invaders had decimated and destroyed all that we knew, we still had each other.

We were taken back to the invaders’ home, Patricanus. The world was strange. So different from our own. Everything was cold, sterile. We lived in a land of greenery, of land and sea. And this was a dry, stale land. It’s since flourished into a greener place, or at least from what I’ve seen. But one hundred years ago, Patricanus was a desert waste land. And so the powers that be deemed it necessary to invade other places to learn how they cultivated the land. How they kept the land bearing life. And our home was the most fertile of all. I don’t know what they stole from us, but they stole us away, so perhaps that was part of it. I don’t know, it’s not something I ever learned the truth about.

I have never felt pain like I felt being imbued. Words don’t describe the process. My world had been destroyed and Scutus destroyed my body. Scutus destroyed Owen’s mind. There was nothing I could do. I was trapped. I was a prisoner. And I had to do as they ordered or they would destroy the one thing I had left. And so I sold my soul so that he could live. So that the one last thing of my home would remain. I sold the last part of my humanity so the inhuman bastard would live.

I regret that. I should have refused. I should have let them destroy him early. But I was young. I was naive. I thought I could change him back. Could bring him back. But all I brought was pain. I am a wretched, piteous creature, but he was even more so. Life was misery. Time passed so slowly

Until I met you. You breathed life into me after a century of no air. I felt myself coming back to life with you, Halle. You are the best part of my life. The greatest thing to happen to me. And so I wouldn’t take back one miserable moment of my wretched existence because I wouldn’t have met you.

Halle, I’m sorry I’m not here to tell you all of these things. I’m sorry I’m not here to watch you learn the truth, to give you the choice for the next part. We aren’t the only weapons, but you know that. But what you don’t know is that the Authority is the source of all weapons. They sell them to the highest bidder, keep them enslaved, keep them deep in the dark. I bargained for your freedom. You’re free, sweetheart. I only ask that you take the others with you. While I’ll never be able to take you to the sea, you can take them. Be free, Halle, and free the others.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Halle read and reread the letter a hundred times over. Patricanus was the aggressor. The Authority had destroyed a country. Had decimated a people. Had stolen them away and enslaved them. Dylan knew all of that. Knew that and didn’t tell her. Having this knowledge was dangerous. There was more than one reason they kept Dylan locked up and isolated. He was dangerous to the Authority, to Scutus, to the foundations of Patricanus. He knew too much. And he could have destroyed them all.

As Halle gathered what few belongings Dylan had left behind, she made a vow. She was leaving Tectus and so were all the other weapons. She was going to destroy Scutus and the Authority. She was going to ensure the world knew what evil lurked within. And she was going to free them all. For herself. For those that had been lost. But most of all because it was all that Dylan had wanted.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t free you. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I love you. I love you. I love you,” Halle whispered to the empty room. She was getting out of here. She was going to destroy the Authority, expose their secrets and skeletons. And she was getting all the weapons to freedom. Nothing was going to stand in her way.

Tags: @beomsstudio @mousepaw @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @eyehartart @corbytheking

@seysposts @cosmic-butterflys @wormjerky @godnessofmagic

@daddyslittlestgirlll

@thatlittlefirestarter @defire @jthecalmone @shook-skull @sagencrafts

@theforeverdyingperson @bilightningwhumper @cryptid-potato @fox-fox234 @deepfriedpan

@4-err0r-4 @half-duck @bigmiki @amberconnverse636 @penguin4473-blog

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@dragonkales @kitarajy-kari @carosbee @celestialsoyeon @knightinbatteredarmor

@kay-kayxb177 @alwaysjaywalking @decayanddie @demetercabingreen-thumb @never-enough-novels

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@anightmarishwhump @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pepeniascat

[nerdieforpedro]

WIP Wednesday

The last one I did may have been in September. 👀 Been a long time. Haven’t really been writing much fanfic. Stuck on different papers for school. I was tagged by @evolnoomym and she shared ideas so I will too! ❤️ @pr3ttynpiink also tagged me and looks to be cooking up some fun new fics. 🥰

I want to write something for Modern Din and Christmas to go in my series: This is the Neighborhood Din, but it will likely need a chapter between that to make sense. (Every so often I care about making sense). Also more Luke doing Jedi yoga on his lawn and Poe & Finn being boyfriends because I want it all!

I need to write a new chapter of Weddings 101 with Dieter. Kinda left on a cliffhanger and a lot happened in my mind that should be posted 🤣

There’s a little over a month until the DMAMC 2025 challenge is due, haven’t written anything. Actually forgot about it, but fear not! I’ll think of something. 👀 My character is Pero Tovar (I doomed myself by picking him 😭 like the level of difficulty). But maybe I’ll revisit a pairing I’ve done.

Random but working on a Baldur’s Gate 3 fic and bugging @perotovar (Erin beta read for me what I have so far), @megamindsecretlair reads the snippets I send her and @soft-persephone looks at the pics I send her and is honest 🤣🤣🤣). Everyone’s favorite moody (for many a legit reason) and murderous pale elf who’s a vampire Astarion and an OFC. Things that happened between these two: a lot of staring, mocking Gale (everyone’s favorite past time- he makes it easy but also the wizard is really nice insane like everyone else but nice), drying some hair, hugs and some tears. Lots of angst, fluff and comfort. Haven’t decided on smut yet, is likely but I’ll see how it reads.

Didn’t realize that A Safe Place for Us was up to chapter 7 on AO3 and only 5 on Tumblr 👀 My bad. I should be able to post one chapter on here before November ends. The formatting and graphics take me the longest. 🤓

I also have a secret Santa fic things I’m supposed to be working on for a discord group but I also have not started. 👀 Unsure of which direction it should go in. I’ll figure it out, eventually I think.

The first paragraph of chapter five of “A Safe Place for Us”:

Waking up to Dieter takes getting used to for Aisha. It’s not unwelcome, she’s just not used to someone clinging to her like he does. Every morning he stays at her apartment is one where he has his arm and head somewhere on her. Chest, stomach, thigh, back, ass one time because he enjoys scissoring her entrance wider and scooping his spend that drips out of her back in before pumping his fingers to stir his cum within her.

Yeah…chapter five is…a ride so to speak. 👀 Forgot we had a strong start.

I found a WIP that contains Marcus Pike angst:

His romantic relationships and come and gone just like yours but you always had each other. Though, you treated yours as ways to work off the need you felt for your friend. To distract yourself, even when you were with your other partners, you’d think of him during the throws of passion, even when having simple meals and they may chew too loudly. You loathed your behavior toward your partners and your friend, biting your lips to not utter his name while under someone else.

“Marcus…”

Is the only name you want to say but can’t.

Hmm….might be a good holiday one or something. 🤔

That’s the ideas for now. Always a lot and never finished. ✅ Would it be Nerdie if they were? 😎

Have a happy Thanksgiving, holiday, days off of work and stay safe!

NPT: @chaithetics @schnarfer @inept-the-magnificent @yopossum @djarinmuse @604to647 @secretelephanttattoo @magpiepills @maggiemayhemnj @murder-wife @sin-djarin @syd-djarin @morallyinept @westside-rot @tinytinymenace @sunshinehaze1 @soft-girl-musings @goodwithcheese @jolapeno @bluestar22x @clawdee @romanarose @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @bitchwitch1981

[timid-owl]

Viktor's character through The Line lyrics

I can't fight this time, now.

How tired do you think Viktor is of pain, of having to constantly bear his ill, weak, failing body that has been dragging him down for so many years? How hard has it been that he's so tired he can't fight it any longer?

Honestly, I thought I was fully prepared for the threshold in store.

I guess I never really faced my fears before.

How scared do you think he is of losing himself one final time and for good? Is it why he has conjured the Hex-Sky, to remind himself of who he was and what he stood for? To keep him on course? Like an echo of himself, that now he has to abandon?

Stay with me.

Keep the memories of who I was before.

I think that's really heart-wrenching how he's equally scared and doesn't want to face it alone, and at the same time, he's trying to keep a part of himself alive somewhere, even in someone else's mind.

Did I disappoint you?

I do interpret the whole song as both a dialogue with himself and with Jayce. I like to think that after their Council room session, they kept some mental connection, and here it's Viktor asking the question to both Jayce and himself.

Stay your pretty eyes on course.

Do you think it's the first time Viktor refers to Jayce's eyes as pretty? Do you think, if it is in fact a dialogue, it feels like a slap to Jayce? Like he can't breathe, like it hurts, like he wants to scream but there is no air as it is far too late.

I guess I never really faced my fears before.

Now you may say, "But Viktor was once literally prepared to die." Sure, but that time he would have died before losing himself. That was the whole point: leave while still remaining precisely who he was. And now he's at the verge of completely destroying everything his very self is and going against his every principle, which is precisely the worst of his fears.

Now to the angstiest parts.

Sure, there's nothing left to try?

I do believe that is meant like a question, same as "stay with me?" Like a final cry for help, like he's hoping Jayce — or something — might save him after all. Like if maybe Jayce would have intervened right here, right now, while they're all gathered around Viktor's hex-egg thing, he would have changed his mind immediately. Which is also why it's sort of full of contradictions and questions like he's babbling - stay with me but I'd rather you not, will they let me over if a do that... But there is no answer, and nobody is there for him anymore.

Will they still let me over?

This I tend to interpret in quite a biblical way, as in "people who, let's say, cross the line are not let into heaven." So... yeah, they won't, and even if there is I guess no details on Piltover's religion it's still ment in a rhetorical way as Viktor knows they won't, there is no possible redemption after this. And what Viktor is worrying about is not "crossing the line of shroom genocide" but more "crossing the line of not existing anymore" (I again think it's literally in the text, barely an interpretation). Like he is leaving his final note, and while he's writing it, he tries to find something, anything, that would keep him from doing the thing. But, again, there is nothing left aside from the light on his face.

Again, for me, this being a dialogue, I also feel like the "stay your pretty eyes on course" is his way of shutting Jayce up when the su*c*de metaphor gets too close to the surface. Like Jayce would start to protest, and Viktor would shush him. It even translates in the rhythm of the lyrics:

What could be, my final form Stay your pretty eyes on course

Honestly, I thought I was fully prepared for The threshold in store Stay your pretty eyes on course.

So yeah, I think the way it's so tender but also so devastating and desperate is probably one of the most beautiful, brilliant things the show gave us.