#...so.... maybe.... maybe if this post gets somewhere ill just... let him think it got picked up randomly somewhere

[lucyvaleheart]

hey y'all! got a, uh... I dunno, a plea for a small thing, i guess?

... My ex, Jake, is losing his housing; and is struggling tremendously to handle the things coming his way.

I won't go into the nitty-gritty details- he's got a gofundme, linked below, that has all of that in his own words and story- but... Whatever the circumstances of our relationship may be, good, bad, neutral, distant, close, nobody deserves to lose their home

I can't do much on my own to help, so... you know. if you're willing to pitch him a few bucks to ease his struggles, willing to share this post to get more eyes on it? any of that would be amazing.

Thank you so much for your time reading this. <3

The gofundme, as promised (Please note, the deadline is now may 30th, not 10th):

[enhas-pov]

ghostface

summary: at the beginning of reader beomgyu’s relationship, there was a masked killer on the loose known as “ghostface”. reader started noticing how her boyfriend was never with her when the killings occurred, leaving her to wonder why beomgyu was acting so odd.

warnings: yandere, cursing, knives, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, degrading, kissing, toxic(?), abusive(ish..?), dom!gyu, sub!reader, etc..

word count: 2.7k

note: i was supposed to post this in october for halloween.. sorry :3

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"g-gyu.. too fast!" i yelped, feeling beomgyu’s hand at the back of my head before he buried my face deeper into the pillows as he was pounding into me from the back. he ignored me, using his other hand to grab me by my waist before thrusting into me deeper, harder and faster. the sound of skin slapping filled the room and i could feel him splitting me open with his big cock. i squirmed around uncomfortably which only earned me a harsh slap on my ass cheek from him, "stay fucking still.." he groaned as he threw his head back in pleasure. i shrieked at the stinging pain his slap left on my cheek which was now completely red.

"i-i can’t.." i was barley able to get any words out from being too fucked out on his dick. "f-fuck.. yeah you can. come on baby, t-take it" i could only whimper in response when his fingers dug even deeper into my skin, definitely leaving bruises. he leaned down, pressing his chest against my back which only lead to his member sliding into me even deeper as his tip kissed my cervix. i whined, his lips brushing agsinst my ear before he bit down on my earlobe. "you gonna milk my cock, hm?" he whispered into my ear. "mhm!" i mumbled, repeatedly nodding my head. he kissed my cheek before leaning back, creating a space between us again.

"g-go on then" he grabbed my ass cheeks and spread them apart so he could watch himself sliding in and out of me. i let out a cry once i felt the wave of pleasure crashing over me, my legs starting to shake at the feeling of beomgyu still going and never stopping, "shit.. just like that". my vision started getting blurry at the overstimulation, "b-beomie?-" i suddenly let out a silent scream when he brought his hand to my clit and started circling it. i was so sensitive after my recent orgasm, i couldn’t stop myself from trying to get off his dick. "w’ere you going baby?" he pulled me back with a harsh thrust causing me to let out a mix of moans and cries.

his thrusts only got faster as he got closer to his high, "shit shit shit-" beomgyu groaned just for a second before shooting his sticky load deep into my pussy. "fuck.." his thrusts got sloppier while he painted my walls white with his fluids. i suddenly got this weird feeling that i wasn’t familiar with, "beomgyu.." i mumbled. "hm?" he hummed, still thrusting into me but at a slow pace. "f-feels like im gonna pee.." he cursed under his breath at my words, "let go for me" he said, biting down on his lower lip. i let out a soft moan when clear liquid spurted out of my pussy, beomgyu groaning at the sight. "that’s it baby.. squirt all over my dick"

i was quick to fall asleep after beomgyu and i had sex, and it was during the middle of the night when i woke up to strange noises. "gyu..?" i mumbled tiredly while i rubbed my eyes. "sorry, did i wake you?" when i opened my eyes to look up at him, i saw him fully dressed in all black. "mhm.. are you going somewhere?" something else about beomgyu was that he would leave a lot during the night which i found extremely odd. "yeah but dont worry ‘bout it, ill be back" he approached me, gently grabbing my chin before pressing his lips against mine. after that he simply just walked out, maybe im thinking too much about it. its probably nothing..

i decided not to worry about it and tried going back to sleep, but i was unsuccessful. i sleep better when beomgyu is next to me so i thought that was the problem. i decided to scroll through my phone while waiting for him, and everything was going fine until i came across a news article that had just been released minutes ago. "the infamous serial killer known as ghostface has struck again, claiming a new victim just moments ago. the local authorities reported that the victim, a man in their 20s was found on the side of the street, and the police confirmed the victim had suffered from multiple stab wounds. "we are doing everything we can to keep our community safe" said the detective. we encourage everyone to stay indoors and report any suspicious activity"

wait.. the victim cant be beomgyu right? a man in their 20s got killed just right after he left the house? i felt my heart begin to race as i started panicking, please dont let it be him.. just as i was about to call him i heard the front door opening. i felt relieved knowing beomgyu was alive and had gotten back home safely. i got out from bed and started making my way out of the bedroom, “beomgyu? i was so worried, they said that a man in their 20s got killed by ghostface and-“ i suddenly froze in my tracks at the sight in front of me—the front door wide open with no sign of beomgyu anywhere.

my heart started racing again, i was sure i had locked the door.. unless beomgyu had left it open when he left? shit. my breath sharpened as i pressed my back against the wall, my heart was pounding so loudly i was sure i could hear it. the house was completely silent until i started hearing the sound of the floor creaking, hoping that it was beomgyus footsteps i was listening to. suddenly out of the darkness, a tall figure dressed in all black and wearing a white mask stepped inside through the front door. it was ghostface. his head turned slowly towards me, and i covered my mouth to stop a scream from escaping my throat.

i slowly started moving my body towards the kitchen before i quickly made a run for it. the second i slipped into the kitchen i started looking for a weapon, something to defend myself with. my fingers trembled as i reached for a kitchen knife, clutching onto it as i braced myself. the cold metal pressed tightly against my grip but just as i turned around he was stood right there. ghostface was standing in the doorway, blocking the exit for me. his mask tilted to the side as if he was amused of me trying to defend myself from him. he then stepped forward, the knife in his hand shining under the kitchen light.

"p-please leave me alone!" i pleaded, begging for my life as my voice shook. he didnt respond, only taking slow steps towards me before he finally cornered me against the counter. i brought the knife i was holding out, the tip of it against his chest as i shut my eyes closed and looked away. suddenly, i felt a cold hand run over my thigh and i shivered at his touch. i looked up at ghostface with my teary eyes, still pressing my knife against his chest. he brought the knife he was holding between his fingers before twirling it around, and it only made me even more nervous and scared than i already was. why wasnt he killing me? he slowly brought the knife up to my face, tears starting to fall from my eyes out of fear.

why wasnt i making a move? i had the knife pressed against his chest, i could easily stab him if i wanted to. i just couldnt bring myself to take someones life.. he took the dull end of the knife, dragging it down along the side of my face. i shivered at the cold metal feeling against my skin as he kept on dragging the knife further down until it reached my thigh. i wasnt wearing anything but a pair of panties and beomgyus t-shirt that was thankfully covering my underwear. the knife grazed my skin as he moved it towards my inner thigh, and i felt nothing but scared and disgusted. "s-stop.." i whispered uncomfortably.

ghostface suddenly let out a chuckle—a chuckle that sounded oddly familiar. i froze as my heart skipped a beat. i furrowed my eyebrows at him, it couldnt be.. slowly, he reached up and pulled his mask off, revealing beomgyus face underneath. his messy hair fell over his once-soft eyes that were now darkened, a twisted smile tugging at his lips. "b-beomgyu..?" i lowered the knife i had held against his chest, but he only pressed his deeper into my thigh. i let out a whimper at the feeling of it, "you had no idea it was me, did you? my dumb baby.." he brought his other hand up to my face in an attempt to stroke my cheek, but i flinched and tried moving away from his touch.

he only gripped my chin tightly as he forced me to look him in the eyes. "whats the matter, hm?" he asked, leaning in close until the tip of his nose was touching mine. "y-you’re.. you’re a murderer!" i spat in his face before i attempted to get away from him by moving my body around like an animal, only he grabbed my body with his hands--trying his best to stop me from attempting to get away from him. "you better fucking stop doing that.. i wouldnt want to hurt you" he growled at me, his hands digging into my skin as he tightened his grip on my body. i knew i wasnt gonna be able to get away from him, he was too strong. i stopped fighting, "please.. i dont want to die.." i sobbed as tears began falling down my face again.

i could tell he was fighting back a smile, hes sick.. he brought his hand up to my face and wiped my tears away with his thumb, "what a crybaby.. i wont kill you" he leaned in with his lips close to my ear, "unless you give me a reason to" he chuckled. with his hand still on my cheek, i grabbed a hold of his wrist and dug my teeth into his skin. it definitely caught him off guard, he yelled out in pain as blood started to run down his wrist. i took the opportunity to push him to the side and make a run for it. i ran all the way to the bedroom before locking the door behind me, and just seconds after he started banging on the door. "open the fucking door ___!" he shouted, and i jumped at the sound of his voice.

i started sobbing uncontrollably as i tried to get the window to open, but my hands were shaking too much. there wasnt any other way out and i knew i was fucked when beomgyu started breaking the door down. "b-beomgyu im sorry! im sorry.. please dont h-hurt me, im sorry!" i choked on my own tears as i kept on apologizing, hoping he would have a change of heart. suddenly, he stopped trying to get through the door, "you’re sorry? hm, baby?" he asked me, his voice trembling with rage. "y-yes! im really sorry beomie.. please.." i was begging for my life at this point, praying that my own boyfriend wouldnt kill me.

"its alright.. just open the door for me, yeah?" his voice shifted, turning the sound of his voice from fear into safety. i sniffled, hesitating for a second before i made my way towards the door slowly. i placed my hand on the door knob, "just- dont hurt me please.." i murmured. "i would never hurt you, okay? i love you so much ___, im sorry if i scared you. just open the door and let me make it up to you" he sounded pretty convincing.. maybe he wasnt going to hurt me. maybe he really does love me. "okay.." i mumbled. i turned the door knob, opening the door just a little before taking a peek. beomgyu was stood there without his ghost face mask and no knife in his hand.

he looked at me with pleading eyes, "please let me in" he begged softly. i opened the door fully and decided to let him in. he walked past me after i closed the door behind him, "i didnt mean to hurt you gyu.. i was just scared.." i lowered my head in shame, feeling bad for hurting my boyfriend. "scared of me?" there it was again. the chilling sound of his voice that sent shivers down my spine. i looked up at him, and there he was, smiling creepily down at me. "b-beomgyu.." i backed away slowly until my back hit the bedroom door. i quickly tried reaching for the door knob, but beomgyu grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. i let out a whimper at the way he slammed my hands against the door.

"y-you said you wouldnt hurt me..!" my voice trembled with fear. "i wasnt planning on it.." he said, tilting his head down at me. "but you gave me no choice" he suddenly grabbed my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks together. "you look so pretty when you cry-" he shut his eyes when i spat in his face. he let out a chuckle, letting go of my face to wipe my spit off of his. he looked me dead in the eye as my whole body shook, "fucking bitch" he spat, grabbing a hold of my waist before throwing me onto the bed. i sat up quickly after my back hit the mattress, i backed away until i was sat against the headboard, "get away from me!" i yelled at him, using my legs to kick him away when he attempted to get on top of me.

"why would i ever want to get away from my own girlfriend, hm?" he said, his voice low and possesive as he stood by the edge of the bed, watching my scared figure. "i-im not your girlfriend anymore.." i mumbled. beomgyu’s face dropped instantly, his head tilted just slightly—his eyes turning dark and disturbing. "what’d you say?" he asked, his voice chilling. i didnt feel like repeating myself, only because i didnt want him to get really mad at me.. i shook my head, "nothing.." my voice barley sounded like a whisper. he tried getting on top of me again, and this time when i tried kicking my legs, he only grabbed them and pulled my whole body down towards him.

"s-stop!" i yelled at him, all though he only clamped his hand over my mouth with a force that made me whimper against his hand. "you belong to me. you hear that?!" he shouted in my face, loud enough for me to flinch. when i did nothing but start crying again, he rolled his eyes at me. "i said.." he removed his hand from my mouth and tapped my cheek repeatedly with light slaps. "you hear that?" he repeated, looking me dead in the eye. i nodded slightly, "y-yes.." i hiccuped. he hummed, leaning in and placing small kisses all over my cheek before moving towards my ear, "you’re all mine.." he whispered in my ear before burying his nose in my hair, "you can never leave me.." he mumbled against me.

he leaned away from my hair and leaned against my face instead, the tip of his nose touching mine. "say it." he growled at me. i sniffled, my whole body trembling when he tried pulling me even closer to him. "i-im yours.." i mumbled, my voice shaky. "and?" he raised his eyebrows. "a-and im.. im never gonna leave you, gyu.." my voice sounded tearful as i spoke, and beomgyu noticed. "still scared baby?" he asked, brushing his lips against mine. i shook my head, but the tears falling from my eyes threw it away. "shhh.." he stroked my hair, "let me show you how much i love you.. you were loving it last night"

[dragon-babe]

hi! in your toriel alcoholism post you said something along the lines of "there's so many themes of neglect in deltarune" and i wanted to ask maybe you'd like to talk about that indepth? I'd like to read your thoughts on that (or maybe you already did somewhere?)

Sure! Others are probably a bit more eloquent with explaining it (I'm good at noticing themes, not always the best at verbalizing them lol) but I'll do my best to hit the broad strokes

that being that member of our main cast experiences neglect in one form or another!

Noelle has a basically work-focused absent mother. She's frequently locked out of her house and for one reason or another, can't get the key from her mom (she's too busy, she chastises Noelle for bothering her therefore Noelle is afraid to ask) idk if you've heard of latchkey kids, but Noelle is one (and doesn't even have said latchkey half the time!) We also see that when the two do interact, Carol is incredibly authoritarian and controlling. There seems to be no warmth there at all, creating emotional insecurity in Noelle. Not to mention leaving her unsupervised on the Internet. Her father is very loving and supportive, but due to his illness is largely absent as a parental figure. he does what he can, but it seems very limited.

Lancer's dad is self explanatory bc of chapter 1, dude tried to throw him off the roof and showed no remorse.

We know nothing specific about Susie's family life, but we know she moved around a lot and never made a friend before Kris. Many folks headcanon her being in the foster system, and that seems entirely possible. Regardless of what her exact home situation is, she doesn't talk about it (red flag), was prone to violent outbursts before Kris (red flag), doesn't call home to let her family know she was spending the night (red flag!) and no one calls asking for her the next day. If she has a family, they don't seem to care how/where she is at any point.

Ralsei is more complicated, with no parents at all to really base off of. But the fact that he had no one at all is something to consider. he's memorized this prophecy and internalized that it's his purpose to serve the lightners at any cost. Ralsei neglects himself.

And then we get to Kris. Adopted child, the only human in the entire town (one could compare this to white people in 99% white towns adopting Asian children and the intense alienation/identity issues that inflicts on the child, but that's not really my place to comment on in depth!), incredibly autistic coded, older brother goes off to college and leaves them to deal with the fallout of their parents divorce alone! and like. Toriel and asgore are both sweet people and do an ok job, but they don't act like parents sometimes.

Asgore is obsessive over his ex wife, everything seems to be some attempt to win her back, and when Toriel ices him out, he ropes Kris in. Take these flowers to your mom, do you think we'll be a normal family again when your brother gets back? What an awful and uncomfortable position to put your child in! He also talks to Kris not as a father but as a friend. You can be friends with your kid obviously, but you need to be a parent First. Asgore needs to grow up and not dump his emotional burden on his literal child.

and Toriel. Sweet overbearing Toriel. Who doesn't want Kris watching MTV and goes to church every weekend. But is known for how she gets while drinking. Who, while her child was fighting desperately to try to save her, locks the house, doesn't tell Kris where she's at after changing plans, invited (essentially) a stranger over to their house, and got drunk. without knowing where her child was in the storm. didn't call Kris once like she did in chapter 1. Kris, after having gone thru the biggest ordeal this far, returns home exhausted to find her perfectly safe and blackout drunk. there's a lot of evidence this isn't the first time either. Susie leaves the situation immediately (hm!) and Toriel doesn't check in on Kris and just sorta offers food (that isn't there when you check the fridge!) So like, Toriel is a warm parent, but not reliable. Kris doesn't feel like they can turn to her for support.

So. yeah. Neglect is prevalent in deltarune

[aizamatsu]

alright a few people mentioned wanting to hear more about meeting some of the death note VAs so i'm gonna ramble under the cut!

alright so i was lucky enough to go to an anime convention this past weekend and i decided to splurge n spend some money on autographs/meet and greets.

so i met L's voice actor alessandro juliani first. his table had no one in line (perks of being a VA for a 20 year old anime i guess)! i wasn't sure exactly what to do so i walked up to his table and he smiled and waved at me :000 i spoke to his assistant and paid for him to autograph my death note w just his name (paying for a quote is more than just an autograph) and then jus stepped over to the side and spoke to him! he asked me my name and how to spell it, and also asked my boyfriend his name despite him not paying for anything lol. i told him that it was my 21st bday on sunday and that i'd like it if he could write that somewhere in my death note. so he autographed the front of it and decorated it with different colored sharpies and wrote "hope you get cake - L" which made me very very happy bc he did it for free :D his voice is literally like warm milk yall his energy was just so relaxed and humble he is genuinely great. he's also very handsome but that's just me being a dilf enjoyer ok.,,,

after that i got to meet misa's voice actor shannon chan-kent. i mentioned in my last post that she wasn't very nice so let me elaborate on that. essentially she was sitting there on her phone for almost the entire interaction w the exception of her writing her name on my death note. she didn't make eye contact really or ask me for my name which was just a little bit of a bummer. the whole interaction was maybe only 30 seconds. i asked her how she was and she was very short w me. i don't have any ill will towards her i just kinda wish she had made an effort to speak to me but at the end of the day she's a human being and was probably drained/tired. she also doesn't owe kindness to me cus im litrally a random boy paying for her autograph. i'm still happy i got her signature though and i'd be down to meet her again ;p

last but not least i met light's voice actor brad swaile and my god guys. he was sooo fucking nice. i was talking to his assistant about cosplays while i was waiting for my turn (i was next in line) and this interaction happened

me to the assistant: swag is priceless though

brad; *turns his head* did you just say.. swag is priceless?

me, lowkey FREAKING THE FUCK OUT: haha . yeah.

brad: *laughs* wrong. swag is very expensive.

like bitch i made brad swaile laugh >???? lets fucking go?? anyways after that he finished up with the person he was with and i slid over to his area and had him sign my DN. i told him it was my 21st and that i'd love for him to write happy bday on it and he was like "Omg!! make sure to be safe!! what are your plans?" and we started chatting about going out to the clubs and drinking safely lol. i also paid for him to write a long quote as well,,, i wanted him to write "this is the first time in my life that i've been provoked to hit a woman" and i was like if ur not okay with writing that quote i totally get it i dont wanna be offensive and he was like

brad: O:< ..... just kidding imagine if i said no. i think thats funny.

then he signed it adjkfhjajsk. he also drew me a slice of cake and gave me a bunch of stamps like he decorated the shit out of it it was so cutie. then we took a picture together and he put his arm around me !!! i was fanboying so hard internally.

anyways yeah it was so epic and i now have a mega decked out death note with autographs and doodles. such a great experience. :))))

[kutner-elegist]

Chase did the smartest thing because he was dumb and that’s so chef’s kiss to me. I don’t think he thought it all through at all but it was just so. fortuitously propitious.

There was an actual assassination attempt, by a former footsoldier of Dibala no less. It wasn’t the first, guessing from Dibala’s paranoia, and wouldn’t have been the last. Someone somewhere would have succeeded eventually, and an obvious assassination would cause much upheaval and bloodshed. Any legitimate and official way to make him stop, much less bring him to justice, would also result in much upheaval and bloodshed even if that was going to happen, which it wasn’t.

Who was going to stop him? UN? ICC? Lest we forget that Dibala was an official guest of the US government, infamous for its historical pattern of backing dictators that serve US interests, ousting democratically elected leaders if they have to, human rights and lives be damned. And even the blissfully oblivious laypeople of the US and its allies are complicit at least tangentially whether they like it or not, myself included.

“He died of illness” is the best case scenario short of everyone everywhere suddenly coming to their senses and world peace materializing out of Magic of Friendship. There is at least hope that the regime will slowly crumble without its strongman. It wouldn’t have been more righteous to turn himself in or whatever, it would have made Dibala a martyr and a lot of people the collateral damage of an absolute international relations nightmare.

Maybe knowing all this would have made him feel better, maybe not, doesn’t matter because he’s too dumb to know.

On a different note Cameron divorce arc is very annoying to me.

Cameron did not leave Chase because he killed Dibala, though that would have been somewhat understandable. She was all “we can get through this together I love you no matter what” at first. She believed she can fix him because he feels remorse. But then Chase says he’d do it again, knowing that isn’t what she wants to hear.

Chase’s whole persona had been that he’s disaffected and doesn’t care much about much of anything and he’ll do what House or his wife wants. Chase could just gone with what Cameron wanted (move away and start over) and maybe they would have lived happily ever after, but he doesn’t.

Even then, “If you don’t even regret the murder you committed, I can’t be with you” would be an understandable reaction. But that wasn’t what it was, or at least all that it was. She goes and accuses House of “poisoning” Chase to the point of not knowing the sanctity of life. Like Chase did all that just for his wife to give the credit to House.

I’m not annoyed at Cameron per se, I’m annoyed that this was her exit. Because I did want the best for her and if she was going to leave, I wanted it to be a testament of her growth. But her final moment before leaving PPTH was trying to get closure with House, for her, everything was still about House. (But at least she did got away so I’ll take what I can get)

In my opinion, Playing God or disregard for the Sanctity of Life would be “I killed him because he deserved it,” which Chase didn’t really say, even when he was desperately trying to deal with his guilt.

Between “what I did wasn’t wrong” and “what I did was wrong I should never have done that” is “I know what I did was wrong and yet I’d do it again” and it is when you decide to bear the cross to save others. (I recently had to go to an archdiocese for work reasons and it was a very strange time for me so let me capital P Project for a moment)

I don’t know where Chase was with Catholicism at that moment, but he went to confession so it wasn’t completely out of the picture. And again I am Projecting, but “I don’t believe in God or heaven but deep down I believe that I’m going to hell” is the bane of my life (I posted about how the fucked up part of being Catholic-adjacent is carrying the shame and guilt but not believing in salvation)

I’ve never killed anyone lol but I’ve done things that weighed heavy on my conscience because it was for someone I’d do anything for, right or wrong. And those decisions marked progress in my belief system. Chase carries the ultimate sin for people he’s never met, even if he didn’t even think about that at first.

The thousands of people who are alive because of Chase won’t even know their savior.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Rocket and sibling Reader

ok it is a full week since i last worked on any of these, lets try and get like three done and post them all, we got rocket and singling reader first coolio, ok technically we have shuriken x knife reader then toxic yuri reader x scythe but i have no clue what to do for the shuriken x knife reader imma reach out to the requester if they didn’t request on anon and ill do the scythe after this because i kin rocket so i wanna do this first, even if i self ship with scythe

- Even if Pokémon doesn’t exist in the world of Phighting you and your brother are straight up Team Rocket Jessie and James, one of you spawned, hung around the spawn building for a little while when suddenly ‘you have a sibling here you go’

haven’t worked on this since the 21st it’s the 15th now, ok let’s do this shit i’ve got kesha playing for motivation it’s only 10:30 i got this… let me read his wiki real quick so this is as accurate as possible, alright let’s do this, chappell roan decided to play but im not complaining about good luck babe

- Even thought one of you is older by a few months, maybe a year at most, you just decide to say you’re twins, sharing a spawn day even if legally that is not your spawning day, while still in the spawn building’s care you get each other a small but heartfelt gift, either stolen, bought with stolen money, or hand made, you both kept every gift

- You both had explosive and dangerous gears, and with how violent Playground is you both end up angry and in a lot of fights, but the only demon either of you let your guard down around is each other, dressing the others knuckles with stolen gauze as they either boast about the fight they just won or grumble that they didn’t even try

- Since unless you’re both in private you don’t let your guards down if either of you wanna discretely say ‘I’m here’ you softly bump horns, almost in a pavlovian fashion both of you instantly calm down some

- You two only really had each other so you both were very clingy to each other, falling asleep in whatever shelter you could cuddling to conserve warmth, and it makes it easier to protect each other in case someone stumbles upon you two, usually thought you would take turns sleeping and the other would keep watch, Playground is fucking dangerous so neither of you felt too comfortable both sleeping at the same time, especially when you had no home, just abandoned buildings or dark forgotten alleyways

- Rocket is a bit more reckless than you, so you on probably four, maybe five separate occasions had to grab him and book it, a wrongly timed and placed rocket and people were chasing you wanting you dead, he’d laugh maniacally and you would join him, once you two were somewhere safe that is, but if you got hurt because of him he’d feel like shit, if it was bad he might even cry and beg for you to forgive him, but you could never stay mad at your brother, after all you only had each other

- When the incident happened that cost him an arm and a leg you weren’t spared, coming out with your own bad injuries too, you both knew, you had to get out of this place, it was too dangerous and you couldn’t loose each other, so you left once and for all, vowing to never come back

- -Skip to after Zuka adopts you i’ve wrote how i think that went down before for a creative writing assignment i don’t wanna do it again sue me

- You slowly began to relax, Zuka gaining your trusts slowly but steadily, giving you what you needed, space, a shoulder to lean on, a trip to a rage room, whatever, overtime you both calmed down more, redirecting your anger to pyromania, ok maybe not the best but fire and explosions were fun!

- One day Zuka called to you that you had guests, when you went to the living room the last thing you expected to see was a deity but his son was chill, the three of you got along great, slowly becoming amazing friends, when he recounted a time two years ago he dyed his horns green to match his dad it gave Rocket an idea

- From that day onwards Rocket had you or Sword help him carve his horns to look more like your adoptive father, you’d chat, gossip, smack talk, and bicker while shaving down the extra parts on your bother’s horns, it was during one of these monthly times that you jokingly suggested maybe you two could become phighters, fast forward two months later you were sneaking out to go sign up for the next phight, Zuka wouldn’t approve so it was easier to ask for forgiveness then to ask for permission

- Even as you two changed your relationship never really did, you two stayed incredibly close, still pretending you were twins and even if you were no longer alone you both knew you could rely on each other to hell and back

coolio hope this is good lemme work on the next one, it’s 11 if i keep up with this pace i’ll have the three finished before midnight then i can do the final request(s?) tomorrow morning since i’ve got classes

[yuukei-yikes]

sry im still thinking abt this but: this is how i would WRITE IN the yuukei quartet to actually exist in second manga route. also slight mahiro sato slander whoops.

ok. basically. ayano and shintaro? still become friends at school. that part of it is normal route core. them knowing each other this early on in this route would in fact be everything. ayano gets her cringe crush, since shintaro still doesn't have retaining eyes he still sucks but actually not as much, they pine for each other all cuteful and they're good friends

shintaro has the accident that lands him in the hospital. ...first time i read second manga route and saw him wrapped up like that, i seriously thought it'd been a suicide attempt. if I WERE.. to write it... i'd probably change it for that. like kagepro already deals SO MUCH with suicide. shintaro kills himself IN CANON. idk. him still having these thoughts even without retaining, even without ayano dying yet. he's still depressed. i know shintaro's a joke as a person but mahiro sato sometimes takes it to new inconceivable places. HE FELL AND BROKE ALL HIS BONES?? sure. okay. I GUESS. but in my version it would have been a suicide attempt

anyways regardless of whatever lands him in the hospital, shintaro still meets haruka, who already knew takane, etc etc. takane would act normal like she NORMALLY FUCKING DOES and not the sick twisted version mahiro sato concocted, so she would in fact also become friends/frienemies with shintaro like she would in canon route. and ayano of course... goes visit shintaro!!! and all four of them meet each other at the hospital!! takane's discharged, ayano and her hang out outside all the time, they bring games for shintaro and haruka, they're besties dammit.

aug 15: ayano gets in the accident with her parents, they enter the daze, kenjirou and ayaka stay there, and her cringe girl fail era begins like it does in canon. meanwhile, same day, haruka dies from his illness, and TAKANE DOESN'T FUCKING KILL HERSELF. we've agreed takane's narcoleptic, but this isn't really directly stated in canon. however let's still pretend it is cause. ok ive got another post somewhere talking abt why it basically IS canon but whatever. strong emotions can still cause you to pass out, even from just laughing (even in canon, takane passes out from the epiphany finding out she's in love with haruka) (no she's not poisoned that's stupid) so it's basically the same thing except what causes her strong reaction is learning of haruka's death. maybe she hits her head, idk. she ends up comatose like she actually does in canon.

shintaro loses haruka and takane. ayano loses her parents and the evil thing with mary happens and her siblings abandon her... but also loses haruka and takane too. her pain is even bigger now. shintaro thinks they can lean on each other in this time, 'cause he DOESNT KNOW of ayano's family losses and the daze bc of course she doesn't tell him, so ayano completely brushes him off. in the broken state she's in, she snaps at him and says horrible things bc she has CONTEXT. ayano's completely preoccupied by the daze stuff and shintaro, who's clueless about it, sort of takes it like ayano's been faking her cheery self all along and she's all of a sudden decided their friendship is meaningless.

...so, shintaro loses ayano too. shintaro becomes a shut in. ayano... honestly does she even keep going to school after this? i don't think it's specified LMAO it's been a while since i've read second manga route cause i HATE it 💗 but her becoming a shut in too would be kind of everything.

anyways not only does this fix the yuukei quartet situation in second manga route, but it also adds a level of hilarity to shintaro and ayano finding each other in present day. them reuniting after having had a friendship fallout 2 years before? AWESOME. with hibiya in the middle? that's so funny.

and ugh it'd be so interesting when ayano finally starts telling him about the eye abilities and shintaro's like WHY DIDN'T YOU FUCKING TELL ME I COULD'VE HELPED!!! YOU COULD'VE COUNTED ON ME!!! AYANO!!! THESE PAST 2 YEARS WE'VE BEEN ALONE WHEN WE COULD'VE BEEN TOGETHER!!! can u fucking imagine what this would mean for ayano. for this ayano. FOR AYAKI. THIS AYANO IS RETAINING EYES. then they kiss on the mouth. sorry. also them having that divorced ass conversation while hibiya's sitting there like erm. what the scallop.

[paigeswiftsea]

. ݁₊ nothing's gonna hurt you baby. ݁₊

hii <3

i know its been awhile since i've posted my writing and i said i would post more writing since its summer... but i indeed got cursed and got that summer depression and everything is fucked up. but like its getting better i think so maybe ill be able to write more.. but do not hold me to that

also i cackled after writing jordonalds lmfaoo

if you need some catching up, heres the last part, and if you want to read the whole thing, you can here <3

wc: 6.0k (im feeding yall)

Sands stood at the far end of the corridor, his hands clasped neatly behind his back like he was taking a leisurely evening stroll—not cornering three fugitives at the heart of his empire. The dim red emergency lights carved harsh lines across his face, casting deep shadows beneath his eyes. And yet, he looked calm. Too calm.

“Going somewhere?” he asked coolly, his voice smooth and sharp as a scalpel. “Sightseeing, perhaps? I hope you didn’t think you could just walk out of here.”

Jay stepped forward without hesitation, squaring their shoulders. “We can,” they said flatly, “and we will.”

Sands’s smile didn’t waver, but his eyes sparked with fury. “Brave words for a traitor.”

His gaze flicked between the three of you, cold and calculating. Then it landed on Sabine, and something in his expression twisted—disappointment, rage, maybe even hurt. “I expected more from you, General Malumi. My fiercest weapon. My shadow.”

Sabine met his eyes, blood on her lip, defiance in her posture. “I’m not your anything.”

Sands’s jaw clenched. “You think you can betray me, all of you, run off to play house with a Soul Rider and expect no consequences?”

Jay barked a humorless laugh. “You’re the only one playing god here, Sands. You tortured your own to keep control. You locked up your best soldier because she didn’t kneel. That’s not loyalty. That’s fear.”

Something cracked in Sands’s mask. His voice turned venomous. “Don’t lecture me, child. I raised you from the dirt. I let you grow, I gave you power, and this is how you repay me? By choosing weakness? By siding with them?”

Jay’s expression darkened like a storm rolling in off the sea.

For a moment, there was silence—heavy and choking—until they let out a short, sharp laugh. Not amused. Not afraid. Just cold.

“Let me?” Jay repeated, voice razor-sharp. “You didn’t let me be anything. I survived you.”

You could feel the temperature in the corridor drop, like the air itself had gone still in anticipation. Jay took another step forward, shoulders squared, eyes gleaming under the harsh red light.

“You think I care what you call me?” they spat. “I stopped giving a damn about your approval the second I realized you were nothing but a bitter, power-hungry coward hiding behind your machines and your monster.”

Sands’ face twisted. “I made you. I pulled you out of nothing—”

“No,” Jay snarled, cutting him off. “You used me. Just like you used Sabine. Just like you’re using all of them.”

Sands’s composure shattered. “I built all of this!” he shouted, gesturing wildly to the steel and shadow around you. “You ungrateful little monsters think you're free now? You think love makes you brave? No—it's obedience that brings order. Control. Without it, you're nothing.”

Your hand brushed Sabine’s—still unsteady on her feet—but her eyes were blazing, jaw set tight. The fire was coming back. She wasn’t going to fall apart again. Not now.

Sands took a step forward, lifting a hand like he meant to summon the full weight of the rig down on top of you. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re children playing in a war you can’t win.”

You stepped forward beside Jay, your voice steady and clear. “Then maybe it’s time someone burned the war down.”

Sabine coughed a laugh behind you, low and dangerous. “They came for me, Sands. They walked into your stronghold and ripped your best prisoner out of your precious cell block. That is winning.”

Something shifted in Sands’ expression. Not fear—he was too far gone for that—but something colder. Calculation. He wasn’t going to let you go without a price.

“You won’t make it off this rig,” he said flatly. “You’ll be hunted. Torn apart. You think I’m your enemy now?”

Sands straightened, the fury in his face going still—dangerously still.

“So be it,” he hissed. “Let’s see if love can save you from me.”

A beat passed.

Then all hell broke loose.

A warning siren shrieked overhead—an alarm triggered remotely from Sands’ concealed wrist control. You barely had time to react before red lights exploded into blinding strobes, and the metallic whine of doors slamming shut echoed down the corridor.

“Run,” Sabine hissed, dragging you backward. “Now!”

Jay threw a flash device against the floor—boom—smoke and sparks erupting around Sands as he shouted in fury.

You grabbed Sabine’s hand and bolted, Jay close behind, your footsteps hammering against the floor as klaxons wailed overhead and chaos consumed the hall.

The corridors blurred past in a whirlwind of metal and smoke and screaming alarms. The sirens wailed like banshees above you, the strobing red lights casting everything in a nightmarish pulse—Sabine’s pale, bruised face flashing beside you, Jay’s silhouette darting ahead, smoke curling behind you like ghosts.

The rig was waking up.

And it was hungry.

“Left!” Jay shouted, skidding to the side as an emergency door slammed shut behind them, nearly catching your boot. “Maintenance tunnels loop toward the dock. That’s our best shot!”

Sabine’s hand was slick with sweat in yours, her grip tight—desperate. You could feel her heart pounding through her fingers, but she kept up, kept moving, even though every breath sounded ragged. You knew she was still hurt. Still healing. But she ran like her life depended on it—because it did.

A panel burst open on the wall ahead of you, and two Dark Core guards spilled out, already shouting. Jay didn’t hesitate—they ducked low and slammed a knee into the first one’s gut, spinning to throw the second off balance. You were already moving past them, dragging Sabine as Jay followed close behind, panting.

“I hope you have another one of those smoke things,” you gasped.

Jay grinned despite the chaos, reaching into their jacket. “I’ve got two. And a surprise.”

You didn’t ask.

You burst into a lower corridor—a cramped service passage that reeked of rust and diesel and something sickly-sweet you couldn’t identify. The lights here flickered weakly, slower than above, like the rig hadn’t fully maintained this part in years. But it was quiet. For now.

Jay slammed the heavy door shut behind you and slid the lock into place, then collapsed back against the wall, catching their breath. “That’ll buy us thirty seconds, maybe.”

Sabine leaned against the opposite wall, gripping her side. Her breath hitched.

You moved to her instantly. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she lied, blinking sweat from her lashes. “Just… don’t stop.”

You touched her arm gently, and she didn’t flinch. That was progress.

Jay pulled a folded piece of paper from their inner coat pocket. “Sabine, we found a wall of maps. The cell block you were in wasn’t on any of them. But we found notes—shipping routes, rig schematics. This place is hiding something big.”

Sabine nodded weakly. “Weapons. Energy storage. Experimental tech. Sands has been building up for something.”

Your stomach turned. “Something worse than Garnok?”

She hesitated. “Something more controlled. Human-made.”

Jay swore. “That’s why he wanted her locked up. She knew.”

A bang echoed down the hall. The first door, buckling.

You stood, adrenaline back in your veins. “Which way to the docks?”

Sabine pointed down the tunnel. “Two levels down. There’s a cargo elevator—connects to the water-level loading platform. We can bypass the main hangar that way.”

Jay reached for the second smoke bomb. “Let’s make a mess on the way out.”

The elevator groaned as it descended, cables whining with age and neglect. You stood shoulder to shoulder with Jay and Sabine, hearts pounding in sync. You could hear the footsteps above, echoing like drumbeats of doom.

Then the elevator slammed to a halt, the doors grinding open to reveal the lowest level of the rig.

It was darker here, lit only by dim emergency lights and the green glow of computer monitors scattered across various consoles. The water lapped just below the grated floor, the open edge of the cargo dock visible ahead. There—tied to one of the metal pylons—was a boat.

Your ride.

“Go,” Jay whispered.

You darted forward with Sabine, Jay just behind, when—

“STOP!”

Voices from behind. You didn’t look back. You ran.

A bullet ricocheted off the railing beside you. Sabine stumbled, nearly collapsing, but you caught her.

Jay turned and chucked the second smoke bomb down the hallway.

Bang!

More shouting, coughing.

You hit the dock and threw the rope loose. Sabine collapsed into the boat. You grabbed the edge of the hull and swung your leg over.

“Jay!” you screamed.

Jay ran, weaving through gunfire, and leapt—just barely landing on the boat’s edge. You grabbed them by the coat and yanked them in.

“Go!” Jay yelled at the helmsman, who had been waiting in the shadows.

He didn’t hesitate.

The engine roared to life, and the boat lurched forward, tearing away from the dock. The rig grew smaller behind you—ominous and seething in the early dawn light. Gunfire rang out in the distance, but you were already too far.

Wind hit your face like a slap, cold and wet and alive. You collapsed back onto the deck, gasping, Sabine half-curled at your side. Her eyes fluttered shut.

You reached for her hand and held it tightly.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t need to. You had her.

You were safe—for now.

The group rode back in silence, the hum of the boat's motor a low, steady pulse beneath the crashing of the waves. Jay sat on the opposite end of the boat, arms crossed tight over their chest, eyes fixed on the distant shoreline that still hadn’t come into view. The helmsman didn’t speak, didn’t look back—just kept his hand steady on the wheel, guiding you through the open sea like it was second nature.

You sat in the middle, your body curved protectively around Sabine’s, her weight slumped against you, her breaths shallow but steady. Your arms stayed locked around her waist, your hand gripping hers as if she might vanish into smoke if you let go.

You couldn’t stop staring at her face.

The bruises beneath her eyes. The dried blood on her temple. The split in her lip. Every mark made your heart clench. You should’ve gotten to her sooner. You should’ve known. But you were here now, and she was here, and you weren’t letting her go again. Not ever.

Something had changed in you, cracked wide open the moment you knew she was hurt, caged, taken. You didn’t know if it was the spirit of Aideen—some ancient force rising up inside you to protect what was precious—or if it was something more human. More raw. A recklessness fueled by grief, fear, and fierce, staggering love.

But whatever it was, it got you there. It got her back.

And you knew—if anything ever tried to take her from you again, you’d burn down the world before you let it.

The boat rocked gently as it sped forward, the rhythmic sway almost lulling you, but you stayed sharp. You could feel Sabine stir slightly, her head shifting beneath your chin. She made a faint sound, not quite a word.

You pressed your lips to her forehead. “I’ve got you,” you whispered. “You’re safe.”

She didn’t answer, just exhaled slowly, her fingers tightening just a little in yours.

The ride felt longer than the trip out, somehow. Maybe it was the way the adrenaline had drained out of you, leaving only the dull ache of exhaustion and the weight of what you’d done. Maybe it was the way Sabine drifted in and out of consciousness—each time she went still, your heart skipped a beat until she stirred again.

At one point, Jay broke the silence, their voice soft and low. “She needs a doctor.”

“I know,” you murmured.

“She’ll fight them,” they added with a faint, tired smirk. “She always does.”

You smiled faintly, brushing hair back from Sabine’s face. “Then she’s definitely still herself.”

Jay didn’t respond. Just leaned back against the side of the boat, letting the wind push their hair into their face.

The sun was beginning to rise by the time the coast came into view. Faint golden light spilled over the waves, catching the tops of the cliffs and painting everything in soft, forgiving hues. It looked like peace. Like hope.

You held Sabine a little closer and whispered, “Almost home.”

The boat docked quietly at Cape West, the village still half-asleep under the morning light. The helmsman didn’t say a word—just gave a tired nod and lit another pipe as you helped Sabine up the ramp with Jay trailing behind, unusually quiet.

You saddled up quickly and rode straight for Jarlaheim, your pace urgent but not reckless—Sabine groaned anytime the horse jostled too roughly beneath you, and the sound made something twist painfully in your gut.

Jay rode ahead to clear the way, ignoring the looks from a stablehand or two who noticed your pale, bruised passenger slumped against you. No one said anything. They knew better.

By the time you reached Sabine’s apartment, the city had woken, but your world stayed quiet. Still, tense. You helped Sabine off the horse and half-carried her up the stairs, fumbling with her keys until the door finally creaked open.

The place was exactly as you remembered: cool, dim, smelling faintly of cloves and old leather. Katja wasn’t there—thank the stars—and you had a moment of stillness to guide Sabine to the couch and ease her down.

“I’m fine,” she muttered, breath catching. “I just need—”

“No,” you interrupted, already kneeling beside her. “Don’t say that. You’re not fine.”

She leaned back stubbornly, eyes fluttering. “Don’t fuss. It’s not that bad.”

“You were imprisoned and beaten, Sabine.”

Jay hovered by the door, arms crossed, tension in every line of their body. “You’re lucky she didn’t blow the whole rig up just trying to get to you.”

Sabine gave a weak smirk, but her face crumpled a little with pain.

You turned and started digging through her cabinets—grabbing gauze, antiseptic, a clean washcloth, whatever you could find. You brought it all over in a bundle and dropped to your knees again, already wetting the cloth and gently wiping at the dried blood on her temple.

She hissed, flinching.

“Stop moving,” you said softly.

“You shouldn’t—”

“I should. And I will.”

Sabine met your eyes then, and for once, she didn’t have a retort. Just silence. Just vulnerability. You saw how hard she was trying not to fall apart.

You cleaned her wounds in silence, trying to be gentle even when the bruises went deep and the cuts weren’t shallow. Sabine winced and gritted her teeth but didn’t push you away. You wrapped her wrists carefully, kissed her knuckles when she wasn’t looking.

When you were nearly finished, she finally broke the silence.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

You froze.

Then looked up, quietly. “Would you have, if it were me?”

Her jaw clenched. “That’s not the point.”

“Yes it is,” you whispered. “You think I could sleep, knowing you were locked away like that? Tortured? Alone?”

Sabine stared at the floor, eyes dark.

“You’re not alone,” you said. “Not anymore.”

Jay cleared their throat. “I’m gonna go get some real medical supplies. And maybe… coffee. Or something.”

You glanced up. “You okay?”

They gave you a thumbs up that was definitely not okay, then left.

The door clicked shut.

And the apartment was still.

Sabine leaned her head back against the couch, a shaky breath leaving her lips. “You’re stupid,” she muttered, eyes closed. “For coming after me. For risking everything.”

You climbed up onto the couch beside her, pulling her gently into your arms.

“Yeah,” you said. “But I love you.”

Sabine didn’t reply.

She didn’t have to.

Her hand found yours, fingers weaving together.

And she didn’t let go.

“…Hey…” you said softly, brushing your thumb over her wrist. “The tables have kinda turned, huh?”

She stirred a little at your voice, but didn’t look up.

“Remember when you were fixing my shoulder up on this couch during the equestrian festival?” you continued, voice light, almost teasing. “And we were pretending to hate each other?”

Sabine huffed faintly. “We were never pretending to hate each other.”

You smiled. “Well, I was pretending.”

There was a pause. You could almost feel her thinking.

“You were godawful at it,” she muttered, and for the first time since getting her out of that cell, you caught a glimpse of the real Sabine—dry, tired, but undeniably her.

You laughed under your breath, the sound quiet and fragile. “Yeah, well. You weren’t exactly subtle either. You had your hand on my bare skin for half an hour and kept muttering about how annoying I was.”

“I meant that,” she said, eyes still closed.

You turned your head and kissed the top of hers. “Sure you did.”

Another long silence passed, the kind that only happens when there’s nothing more that needs to be said for a moment. The kind that holds everything that’s already been said.

Sabine shifted just a little, her voice low. “That night… during the festival… I think I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“That if I didn’t get out while I could… I was going to fall for you. Completely.” Her voice cracked a little, quiet enough that she might’ve hoped you wouldn’t hear it. “I told myself I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.”

You swallowed the lump rising in your throat.

“But then you looked at me like I was worth saving,” she whispered. “And I couldn’t stop.”

You tightened your arms around her. “Good.”

Sabine finally tilted her head just enough to glance up at you—eyes rimmed red, face drawn but open in a way it never had been before. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah,” you said, brushing your fingers through her hair. “But I’m your idiot.”

She let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, and let herself fall the rest of the way into you.

The couch creaked softly beneath you both as she finally let herself rest, the safety of your arms more powerful than any lock or weapon.

And for the first time in a long time, slept without fear.

The morning stretched long and quiet around you, slowly fading into the afternoon.

You didn’t move.

Sabine slept, her head tucked beneath your chin, her body slack and heavy with exhaustion. The tension that always sat in her shoulders—the rigid alertness, the defensive coil of someone always ready to fight—was gone. Not completely, not forever. But enough that you could feel her breathing. Slow. Unsteady. Alive.

You stayed like that for a long time. Long enough that the light in the apartment changed, golden streaks crawling across the hardwood floor, catching dust motes in their glow. Long enough that your own exhaustion crept up your spine and made your body ache.

But you wouldn’t let yourself sleep.

Not yet.

Eventually, the door creaked open.

Jay stepped in, balancing a white paper bag and a box of medical supplies under one arm and a tray of coffee in the other. Their eyes landed on the two of you on the couch, and they froze—like they weren’t sure if they should say something or back out quietly.

You met their gaze.

They raised a brow, set everything down carefully on the counter, and walked over. “Is she still out?”

You nodded.

Jay crouched beside the couch, eyes flicking over Sabine’s face, and for a brief second, you saw something fragile cross their expression. Guilt, maybe. Or shame.

“She’s gonna hate me for dragging her into all this,” Jay said quietly, almost like they were talking to themself. “Even if she’d never say it.”

You reached out and touched Jay’s arm. “You didn’t drag her. Sands did. And you helped get her back.”

Jay shrugged, uncomfortable with praise. “Yeah. Well. It’s not over.”

You nodded, your throat tight. “I know.”

Jay stood. “There’s bandages and antibiotics in the bag. Coffee too. I’ll take first watch. If you want to crash for a bit.”

You hesitated, torn. But your body was already agreeing for you.

“Only if you wake me if she needs anything,” you said.

Jay gave a small salute. “Obviously.”

You slipped off the couch carefully, replacing your body with a pillow as gently as you could. Sabine stirred, her brow creasing, but she didn’t wake. You brushed a kiss to her temple and whispered, “I’ll be right here.”

Then you curled up in the armchair nearby, your eyes already heavy.

Jay sat cross-legged on the floor, one eye on the door, one hand curled around a steaming cup of coffee.

Outside the window, the world kept turning. People fed horses, delivered packages, watered flowers. They didn’t know what had happened last night. What nearly got lost.

And inside, in a quiet apartment in Jarlaheim, three people who shouldn’t have been allies sat together in the aftermath—breathing, healing, waiting.

You quickly dozed off, the morning already behind you.

The quiet hum of the apartment, the faint smell of cloves and coffee, the steady presence of Sabine resting nearby—it all lulled you into sleep faster than you expected.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds hours later, golden, warm, and late across your face, pulling you groggily back into consciousness. You blinked hard, sitting up in the armchair and rubbing at your eyes. The leather creaked faintly under your weight as you stretched and let out a tired groan.

But as soon as your vision cleared, your eyes darted to the couch.

Empty.

Your heart seized. For a split second your mind filled with awful scenarios—she’d run, she’d been taken, she’d collapsed somewhere you couldn’t see—

But before you could even stand, a firm hand landed on your shoulder.

“She went to shower,” Jay’s calm voice cut in behind you, just a little dry.

You let out a long, shaky breath, sagging back into the chair, your hand over your chest. “Right,” you muttered, exhaling. “Shower. Yeah. Okay.”

Jay moved around you, their footsteps quiet, and settled on the coffee table directly across from you. They leaned forward slightly, elbows on their knees, studying you with a look that wasn’t quite a smirk but wasn’t without sharp edges either.

“You’re a wreck,” they observed lightly.

You shot them a glare, but there was no real heat behind it.

Jay raised their hands in mock surrender, then laced their fingers together and leaned forward again. “Linda called me earlier,” they added, tone a little more serious now. “Asked how it all went, so I told her what happened… and how Sands is furious.”

Your stomach sank. “Of course he is,” you murmured, rubbing at your face.

Jay nodded. “He’s not going to let this go. You know that, right?”

You stayed quiet, staring down at your lap, fingers twisting together.

Jay sighed through their nose. “She’s safe for now, but…” They trailed off, glancing toward the bathroom door where the faint hiss of water still came through. “He’s going to come for her again. And he’s not gonna play nice about it next time. Or you.”

You swallowed thickly. “Then we’ll be ready.”

Jay snorted faintly. “You say that like it’s that easy.”

You looked up then, your gaze steady despite the ache in your chest and the exhaustion weighing you down. “It’s not easy. But she’s worth it. Every time.”

Jay’s mouth curved upward slightly—not a smile, exactly, but something faintly approving. They leaned back on their hands and tilted their head. “Yeah,” they said softly. “That’s what scares him, you know. That kind of loyalty. He doesn’t understand it.”

Before you could respond, the bathroom door cracked open. Steam spilled out into the hallway, and Sabine appeared, wrapped in a towel, her damp hair clinging to her shoulders. She looked a little steadier on her feet than she had earlier—still pale, still bruised, but with some of her trademark sharpness back in her eyes.

Jay glanced at her, then at you, and stood. “I’m gonna… go check in with Linda again,” they muttered, making their way to the door. “And get food. Try not to traumatize the couch.”

You rolled your eyes at them, but Sabine huffed out what almost sounded like a laugh as Jay slipped out the door.

And then it was just the two of you again.

You crossed the room slowly, closing the space between you until you were standing right in front of her.

“Feeling better?” you asked quietly.

Sabine glanced down, then back up, her dark eyes meeting yours. She hesitated, then nodded. “A little.”

You reached out, brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”

And for just a heartbeat, she let herself lean into your touch, her eyes closing.

“…We’ll see,” she murmured, but her hand came up to rest over yours, holding it there.

The quiet between you stretched, soft and heavy, but not unwelcome. Sabine’s fingers lingered against yours, her skin still damp and cool from the shower, her strength not quite what it used to be yet—but still enough to ground you both here.

You didn’t move your hand from her cheek.

And she didn’t let go.

She cracked one of those faint, tired smirks you loved so much, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Not yet.

“You don’t believe me?” you teased softly, brushing your thumb across her knuckles.

Sabine opened her eyes, gaze steady, guarded in that way that only she could be. “…It’s not about believing you,” she murmured, her voice quiet but edged with something brittle. “It’s about knowing what people are willing to risk for me. And what happens to them when they do.”

Your chest ached at that, but you didn’t let it show. You only shook your head, just slightly, and leaned your forehead against hers.

“I’d risk everything for you,” you whispered. “And I’d do it again. Every damn time.”

She didn’t answer. But her fingers curled tighter around yours, and she didn’t pull away.

After a long moment, you straightened and finally—finally—sat beside her on the couch, still holding her hand, letting her lean against your shoulder if she wanted. She didn’t at first, of course. But after a few breaths, her head found its way there anyway, and you felt her weight settle against you.

“…You’re stubborn,” she muttered, almost fondly.

You smiled faintly. “Takes one to know one.”

That almost earned you a laugh. Almost.

You let the silence return, the soft light from the window catching in her damp hair and bruised cheekbones, the faint sound of distant hooves in the city streets below.

For now, you stayed like that. Because that’s all she needed.

And you’d give her all the time she needed.

Silently, you grabbed a brush from the table, shifting so you were sitting just behind her on the couch. Sabine didn’t even open her eyes—just let you tug her towel tighter around her shoulders and start pulling the brush through her long, damp hair.

She let out a soft sigh, leaning forward a little, and for a moment it was almost like she was melting into your touch. Her body sagged under your hands, her breath evening out.

You worked slowly, careful of the tangles at the ends. The silence wasn’t awkward—just quiet, comfortable. Every so often she’d tilt her head in the direction you guided it, her eyes still closed, her hands resting loosely in her lap.

When the worst of the tangles were gone, you set the brush down and began parting her hair, fingers deft as you wove it back into the braid she usually wore. You felt her breathing deepen again as you worked, each loop of hair pulled over the other making her look a little more like herself.

When you were halfway done, you smiled faintly and murmured, “Your hair smells nice.”

That made her snort faintly, one corner of her mouth twitching into a tired smile even though her eyes stayed closed.

“Yeah?” she rasped softly, her voice still hoarse from disuse.

“Mmhm,” you said simply, smoothing down a loose strand behind her ear. “Like… smoke and pine. Very intimidating.”

That earned you a quiet, breathy laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” she murmured.

You leaned a little closer to whisper near her ear, teasing: “And yet here you are, letting me braid your hair.”

Her lips curved into that faint, rare smirk. “Don’t get used to it.”

But you could tell—by the way she let her head tilt back slightly, by the way her fingers curled weakly around the edge of the towel, by the way her shoulders finally dropped—that a part of her wanted you to get used to it.

And you would.

Because no matter what came next, no matter what kind of storm Sands planned to throw your way… you weren’t letting her go.

Not now. Not ever.

You finished tying the braid off gently with an elastic and let your hands linger just a little longer, resting them on her shoulders. She didn’t move away.

After a quiet moment, she finally opened her eyes, dark and sharp but softer than you’d ever seen them before.

“…Thank you,” she said quietly.

And somehow, those two words meant more than anything else she’d said tonight.

Before you could answer, the apartment door rattled—Jay’s voice muffled through the wood:

“You two decent? I brought food. And also news. Neither is great.”

You glanced at Sabine, who was already rolling her eyes faintly, a familiar fire sparking back to life behind her tired gaze.

“…Let them in,” she murmured, straightening her shoulders a little.

You smiled softly, pressing a hand to hers before standing to unlock the door. Whatever Jay’s news was… you and Sabine would face it together.

Sabine threw the towel to the side of the couch, sitting back on the couch in her shorts and sports bra.

You opened the door, Jay’s slightly worried face softening into a crooked grin when they caught sight of you, though it didn’t quite reach their eyes. They waggled the greasy Jordonald’s bag at you as if that would magically erase the tension hanging in the air.

"Food for champions," they declared, stepping inside. “And by champions I mean two emotionally damaged women and their sleep-deprived friend.”

You cracked a smile despite the tension still simmering in your chest. “I was starting to worry you got caught.”

Jay raised a brow as they dropped the bag onto the coffee table. “Please. I’m slippery. Like an eel.”

Jay shot you a look as they plopped the bag down on the coffee table, then glanced over at Sabine—who was now sitting back on the couch, legs stretched out, dressed in just her shorts and a black sports bra. She was watching them with that same cool, half-lidded gaze, her braid draped over one shoulder.

You're also loud. And irritating.”

“Aw, she’s back,” Jay said brightly, looking at Sabine slouched on the couch in her usual half-dressed glory, her freshly braided hair gleaming in the morning light. “Still breathing. We love to see it.”

Sabine flipped them off without looking.

You closed the door behind Jay and turned back toward the living room as they rummaged through the bag, tossing out food containers. “I didn’t know what you wanted so I got… everything. Grease, sugar, caffeine, carbs—like four types of hash browns.”

You handed Sabine a warm paper-wrapped sandwich and she took it without comment, but her eyes lingered on Jay for a moment longer than necessary—something unreadable behind them.

Jay plopped into the armchair, already digging into a hash brown with exaggerated delight. “God, I earned this,” they muttered around a mouthful, crumpling the greasy wrapper and tossing it onto the coffee table. “Almost got tripped up by some weirdo in a suit on my way here. Must be Dark Core cleanup or something.”

You handed Sabine her coffee and she took it without a word, holding it with both hands like it was the only thing keeping her upright. She was still curled into the corner of the couch, her legs drawn slightly toward her chest, the faintest sheen of sweat still clinging to her skin despite the shower.

You watched her out of the corner of your eye as you unwrapped your own sandwich. She hadn’t said much since Jay arrived, but she was eating. Small bites at first, but steady.

Jay glanced between the two of you, shaking their head. “You two are so quiet it’s killing me. Don’t tell me I’m the only one with the social skills here.”

Sabine shot them a flat look. “You don’t have social skills. You have a running mouth.”

Jay grinned, unfazed. “And yet. Still here, saving your ass.”

That actually earned a faint huff of amusement from Sabine before she went back to sipping her coffee.

You took another bite of your sandwich and leaned back into the couch with a sigh. The food helped—warm, salty, comforting. It made the cold knot in your chest loosen just a little.

Once everyone had something in their hands, and Sabine had taken at least two solid bites, Jay finally exhaled and got serious.

“Okay. So. News.” They looked between the two of you. “Sands is pissed. Like, really pissed. Linda intercepted some chatter on one of his Dark Core frequencies. He’s calling in favors, moving assets. Whatever leash he was on before? It’s gone.”

You froze mid-bite. “What’s he planning?”

Jay shook their head. “Don’t know yet. But he mentioned ‘setting things right’ and something about Hollow woods. And he definitely wants Sabine back.” They glanced at her. “Alive. But barely.”

Sabine didn’t react outwardly, just chewed and swallowed like she hadn’t heard. But you saw the way her fingers tightened around the sandwich.

Jay leaned back on their hands, picking at the corner of the wrapper. “Goons are sniffing around. Asking questions. Trucks moving out of Pine Hill. It’s not subtle.” They looked at you directly then, and for once, their usual sarcastic edge was gone. “We bought you… maybe a day. Two at most. After that?”

Their shoulders lifted in a helpless shrug.

Jay reached over and snagged one of the untouched hash browns from the pile. “So, Sabine,” they started, leaning lazily back in the chair. “How’s it feel to be dramatic damsel of the year?”

Sabine gave them a sharp side-eye but didn’t bother with a verbal retort, just flicked her braid behind her shoulder and kept eating.

“She’s gonna kill you one day,” you warned Jay, and they snorted.

“Please. That’d mean she has to admit she cares what I think.”

You set your sandwich down, licking grease from your fingers, and finally spoke up, quiet but certain: “We can’t stay like this. Waiting for him to make the next move.”

That drew both their eyes to you.

Jay raised an eyebrow. “You got something in mind?”

You met Sabine’s gaze then. Her eyes were sharp now, cutting through the haze of exhaustion, as if she already knew what you were going to say.

“We find out what he’s planning,” you said, voice firm. “And we stop it before he gets the chance.”

Sabine studied you, her lips parting slightly as though to argue—but she didn’t. Instead, she set her coffee down and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

Finally, she spoke, her tone quiet but decisive: “Then we hit Hollow woods before he does.”

Jay groaned dramatically, leaning back and covering their eyes with their arm. “Why do you two always have to drag me into suicidal plans at breakfast?”

You smirked faintly, picking up your coffee and leaning back. “Because you’re the only one dumb enough to come along.”

Jay dropped their arm just long enough to grin at you. “Fair point.”

The three of you sat there in silence for a moment longer, finishing your food as the sun climbed higher through the blinds. The quiet wasn’t awkward anymore—it was full of unspoken resolve.

When Sabine finally stood, adjusting her braid over her shoulder, her smirk was back, faint but real.

“Alright,” she murmured, cracking her knuckles. “Let’s ruin his day.”

And just like that, you all started gathering what you’d need for the next battle.

[novaazurite]

Making my grand return after 3 weeks of inactivity! (Though I may not be active all the time) Lets talk about TPOT 14!

While I did enjoy this episode a lot, the only downside I have with it is how it was a little too fast paced, I can handle that for BFDIA, but I think knowing how TPOT usually is maybe it was a little offputting, I might need to do a rewatch, but I remember a lot from the episode so im still goin with this post.

So with that said...lets start the ramble session!

So I just want to point out how Pencil is clearly living in the past on how obsessed she is to desprately reform FreeSmart by getting Book and Ice Cube, idk why it just feels funny and weird, you can clearly tell how uncomfortable they were in this and last episode that they want nothing to do with her, whatever the hell she did to them in IDFB (im still having thoughts the 'FreeSmart downfall' is gonna hppen in IDFB with Match being the first to leave the LOL.)

Ill admit the shot of the new TCOA was pretty cool, I like it when they implement 3d things into BFDI

Now... onto the CAS. I freaked out so bad in vc when I saw Pin and Ice Cube safe, ik Taggy and Book was gonna be safe so i didnt worry, but felt like Pin was in danger because she couldnt do much being stuck to Gaty, I thought Icy was gonna be out because she was used just to try and kill the fish monster, she couldnt really do much. But OH MY GOD.

I FUCKING GOT IT RIGHT. FOR A WHILE I HAD A FEELING ERASER AND GATY WAS GONNA BE OUT. Ill be honest Eraser didnt have much going on anymore because of Teardrop being eliminated in TPOT 9, so what else did he have left? I dont know exactly, I really had expected him getting out. Now TREE? I didnt expect him to be in the bottom 2, I thought he would be third to last safe, Pin and Gaty being bottom two because both of them didnt do much but be stabbed and used as a weapon by Robot Flower. As much as I love Gaty, I had a feeling she was gonna be out, and finding out I was right about her and Eraser being out made me insanely shocked. The first time I ever got a TPOT prediction right, though I thought One was gonna immediately snatch them up soon after, but good thing Book took notice of it and try to have and her, alongside Pin try to keep Gaty safe. While the others threw Eraser around basically.

Now im glad we got to see the elimination space again, and seeing the others are trying to escape, Fries and Puffball trying to break what seems to be a barrier? Also I noticed Saw, Nickel and Coiny are not there, ik they arent snatched by One but maybe theyre somewhere?

This genuinely made me sad, I had a really good feeling Two was gonna be upset about Gaty being out, I was definetly aware they couldnt bring themself to send her to the elimination space knowing how close she is to them, I didnt expect them to send her to kitchen, however, seeing the scene of One staring at her makes me feel like Two should had sent her there, Gaty is at risk of being snatched, which is gonna upset them even more or hell, send them into a panic, from what ive seen, they seem to brush off the fact Bell/Bomby/Barf Bag/Needle are missing, but what happens if Gaty disappears? Will they try to keep running the show? Theres a lot of predictions you can go off from.

I just wanna show this screenshot its so funny that Taggy is just staring at Book like this 😭😭😭

Glad to see Firey Jr again!

Its funny how DPYA tried to do the same thing from last episode trying to defeat that venus flytrap(?), like sure that would totally work again.

Kind of like how Pin thought doing this again was gonna work in BFDIA 15, LOL.

Closing out my post on the post credits scene, I kind of wonder where the other exitors went. I completely freaked out seeing Match end up in the Pillary Ruins, and this shot here is so cool like.... Knowing last episode we saw Firey and Leafy, are we gonna see more of the BFB contestants again? I wonder what they will have for the plot in future episodes...

And something tells me FreeSmart may reform again, knowing Match is with Ruby and Bubble, and apparently Pencil trying to get Ice Cube and Book back, though its not gonna happen.

[pumpkinsy0]

headcanons for purly at a high school dance?

i feel like they would ditch it and go somewhere else but i would just looove to hear ur ideas

for funsees lets say they arent together, and for this one, ill make em #chillguys, its not everyday theyre being menaces

•curly totally asked pony to go w him, and pony wasnt gonna go but hey whatever curly asked and he had nothing to do that day so y not, he didnt SAYYY it was a date and pony assumed it wasnt cause he said angela was joinin em, but lets b fr, angela wouldnt wanna b around curly when ponys around

•POINT IS, angela left em bc she could sense that she was gonna b a third wheel like a mile away and loved herself enough to not stick around to see if that was true, call angela an unwilling accidental wingman

•this will NOT b a “curlys trying to make this romantic” hc post, bc he WOULDNT do that actually, when pony accepted curlys invitation, he accepted whatever bc he was gonna do w curly

•but i willlll feed u believers a lil bit of food and tell u that curly tries a LIL bit to do that, just not in “im a perfectionist, so this has to b PERFECT” way, in a “this isnt actually romantic but bc its u doing it it means something more”

•dont think pony didnt see, he absolutely did, curly would get them drinks, made sure they had their own space w intimidation, didnt ignore pony especially when he saw his gang” those things

•dont get it twisted tho, NEITHER of em rlly wanted to go, pony was there thinking “ill stay for his sake” while curly kept on goin cause “pony wanted to come w me, i gotta make him have fun”, like a sick lil cycle

•u already know they got into their usually antics, messing w other ppl, making inappropriate comments, that whole thing, but theyre hearts weren’t rlly in it and they could tell

•the energy between them died down so they went outside and curly felt like he fucked up or somethin but he still looked to b in high spirits, outside they shared a smoke and curly IMMEDIATELY said yes, there comes a point at prom near they announce prom king and queen where curly cant gaf anymore about this dance, that was just the tipping point

•they had nowhere specifically in mind, just walked. pony didnt wanna go home just yet, which made curly feel SO much better, he was in a much better mood

•all they do is smoke weed, go to a diner, and walk around, maybe they bump into angie and stick w her for a bit to make sure shes alright or bump into curlys gang and hangs w them for a few, but point is they’re not off the walls ALL the time,,,,at dances they dont have that energy for the whole night they arent social like that

•for a bonus hc, if they were a couple they woulda ditched bc they got caught by a teacher making out in a closet or corner and their moment was ruined so they bounced

[histrynerdss]

WHY DID MY POST ABOUT ALASTOR ANGST PROMPTS GET SO MANY REPLIES LMFAOOOO

okay chat here we go..!

integrated some of these into a radioapple oneshot btw.. so you will see these even if you yourself don't write them >:]

• i'm pretty sure deer ears can hear a lot better than normal ones, and with more range. considering the fact majority of the hotel don't exactly like him and they're pretty paranoid about him (valid ngl) he could probably hear them talk smack abt him :(

• ok so,.,. unsure but i heard once in history class that in his time slave traders called black people bucks and does. weeeeell-

• "a smile is a powerful tool-" "it's not a tool, it's not supposed to be that! what messed you up so much to think it's that!?"

• of course a side ot cyanophobia (did i spell that right??) - phobia of dogs :3

• even if he was a hunter i like to think that with his new deer ears and also the fact he was killed by a hunter themselves,.,. i don't think he can handle the sound of a shotgun anymore for long

• he doesn't sleep because he believes it to be vulnerability

• we all know that like his dad was probably abusive to both him and his mother right??? what if,.. what if his mom died to his dad just rhink about it logically to him it would teach him two things - the world is cruel , and the vulnerable are its victims. so no more vulnerability !!! hahaha!!

• he's mixed race right?? i like to think he didn't have many friends or couldn't have many, so when he was on the air (pre-death ofc) he had a tendency to start talking to his listeners like they were friends - though he tried to stop it

• he actually still needs glasses but he settled for a monocle bc "theyll think im weak !!!!!!!"

• he had a small garden of flowers at some point so he could always bring his mother's grave some,.,. WAHHH

• this one is pretty far off and lowk too poetic but maybe the day he started loving red just a tad too much was the day he came home to his mother , dead in a pool of it? for the rest of his life he always had some sort of red on him -- a reminder of what was lost. in death the accents of black i like to think are for mourning

• he defo has a picture of his mom but it got destroyed in the finale when the hotel collapsed 💔 i do have a full idea on this somewhere ill look 4 it

• owns his dad's soul in hell but he can't do much to him because he's admittedly still a little scared of him

these are lowk ooc but i mean it's alastor this man doesn't let anyone see what's actually him 💀💀💀 and it's fanfic too,.,. we can pretend chat we can pretend

[all-pacas]

would you write something about camchase going to a medical conference (sans anyone else)? either during fwb or post-divorce.

fwb version is less toxic so let's go. medium r rating on here. alluded to sex. which tbh goes with the territory of the fwb era but you know.

-

"I need one of you idiots to go to a conference this weekend," House says. It happens a couple times a year; he hates reading minutes and program summaries and when his presence is requested he always sends one of them instead.

Cameron exchanges a quick look with Foreman: it's almost always one of them who goes — Chase only offers if it's a conference somewhere warm, preferably near a beach — and he went to the last one. "I'll go," she says reluctantly: she doesn't have plans, exactly, but she had planned to invite herself over to Chase's, maybe, see where the weekend took them —

"Chase is going," House says, and Chase for the first time looks up from his crossword.

"Why?" he asks, dismayed.

"ACR-Con," House says with a wicked grin: for a second Chase looks actually, properly angry. “I need you to find Dr. Bennet and tell him his latest paper is wrong. Read it on the drive."

"What, he won't open your e-mails?" Chase snaps.

"Son of his dearly departed colleague should get through the door," House shrugs, and the penny drops: ACR is a rheumatology conference.

Chase pushes back from his chair. "Fine," he says, and leaves the conference room in a huff.

-

"I can go," Cameron says, cornering Chase in the break room as he angrily balls up his labcoat and shoves it in his locker. She has to bite her lip: this is why it's always so wrinkled. "I'll tell Dr. Bennet he's an idiot, House won't really care."

"I don't need you to protect me," Chase snaps, and it stings. Only because she's not used to it, Cameron thinks. She's seen Chase in a snit before, but not directed at her; he's being rude. That's all it is.

“I’m not trying to protect you, I’m trying to do you a favor as a colleague,” she snaps — and Chase slams his locker shut so abruptly and loudly that she flinches, startled.

“Right,” he says, all the wind suddenly knocked out of him. He leans his forehead against the metal briefly. “It’s — really alright. I know Bennet. Sort of.”

She hasn’t asked him about his father since word got out he’d died, and Chase had blown her off only slightly more politely that time than the first. She wonders if it’ll be different now, if sleeping together has changed something between them. No, she reminds herself, but it feels like a yes.

But he’s upset, that’s clear. And she’d care about that even if he was just a colleague. He is just a colleague. She’d feel the same way if House was inflicting this on Foreman, she thinks.

“I could… still go,” she offers. He looks at her askance. “With you, I mean.” She hates the way her voice sounds in her ears; licks her lips and straightens her shoulders. “There’s a fair amount of overlap between rhumetology and immunology. If House hasn’t asked, I might have wanted to check out the conference anyway.”

-

Bennet’s lecture is on, of all things, diagnostics. He’s younger than Cameron had expected, no more than fifty, and somewhat surprisingly not Australian, and his lecture is a case study. A nineteen year old woman he’d treated; clear auto-immune symptoms but no clear pathology. “Beschet’s,” she murmurs to Chase, bemused: Bennet is going on about the troubles of treating an illness without diagnosis, true enough, but…

“Lupus,” he whispers back.

A novel presentation of a potentially new disorder, Bennet says, and Chase laughs under his breath, and Cameron can see why House wanted one of them here to tell the man off. After Bennet’s lecture draws to a close, Chase stands and approaches the podium. For some reason, Cameron had thought he’d avoid this.

“Excuse me, Doctor Bennet?” Chase asks: Bennet is talking to a colleague but blinks and turns at Chase’s voice — more likely, accent — doing a visible double take as he takes the younger man in.

“Robert Chase?” Bennet exclaims: Chase sticks out his hand and Bennet draws him into a collegial embrace. “My God! I haven’t seen you in ten years! How have you been?”

“Great,” Chase says, bright and insincere —

“We missed you at the memorial ceremony,” Bennet says. “My God. You look great. A real doctor now, eh?”

“Yep,” says Chase, and steps back — “This is my colleague, Dr. Cameron —“

“Pleased to meet you,” Cameron says; Bennet shakes her hand and turns his attention fully back to Chase, resuming his reminiscing about Chase’s father. Even though Cameron had been aware Bennet was connected to Chase in that way, she hadn’t expected this level of familiarity. For Bennet to be someone who knew Chase ten years ago. She considers herself to be an entirely different person than the woman she was a decade ago — recently married, recently widowed. But it’s hard to imagine Chase as having been through that level of change.

Looking thoughtfully at Chase, she’s surprised to see how openly miserable his expression is, jaw tight and hands flexing restlessly at his side. Cameron’s struck with an odd impulse she doesn’t want to examine — to shield him — and has to butt into the conversation to get Bennet to change the subject from the marvelous work he and Chase’s father had done together.

-

They skip the afternoon panels to get lunch, wandering Manhattan until they’d found a likely restaurant: a little nicer than the pizza or sandwiches they might get otherwise, but hey, the hospital is paying.

She orders ravioli and he orders fish and a whiskey sour: “Very power lunch,” she teases, and Chase smiles but looks exhausted. Cameron sticks to water.

“The worst is over, at least,” she says, wincing at her own platitudes, watching him take too-large a first gulp of his drink. Bennet had been warmly enthusiastic when she and Chase had finally brought up their connection to House, and had rapidly cooled as Cameron had tried to explain the flaws in his methodologies and lecture. They had both given Chase periodic beseeching looks he’d tried to avoid, and Cameron would have been angrier if he hadn’t been so clearly miserable. No such refuge from Bennet, who had all but stormed off in the end with an icy good to see you again, Robert as farewell.

“Yeah.” Chase laughs under his breath; musses his hair. “Bet there’s a nasty article published in the New England Journal within a month.”

“Think House will read it?” she jokes.

“If it’s how these young doctors don’t respect the wisdom of men with decades in the field? He’ll frame it.”

“I’ll frame it,” Cameron says, and he laughs aloud.

Cameron wonders if their waiter thinks they’re dating. A couple. There’s something about being in another city that makes it seem… not awful. Like they’re playing dress up. Playing pretend. Two young professionals, laughing together, chatting over lunch — Chase starts to tell her a story about med school, elbows on the table, chin in hand, and it’s one she thinks he’s told her before. But he’s engaged as he tells it, grinning, leaning towards her — it’s all too easy to pretend. That he isn’t amused by his own story, but he’s smiling because it’s her, that he’s not leaning closer to make sure she’s paying attention but because he wants to be close. In this city, he could be her boyfriend — no. Not her boyfriend, but someone’s. Cameron hates the sound of her own laugh. She’s so used to Chase that sometimes she forgets how good-looking he is: she lets herself think about it now, pretending.

When their food arrives, he eyes her pasta speculatively: he is always trying to steal bites. “Want some?” she teases; as he goes for his fork she offers hers. Too intimate by half, too — but a girlfriend (not her, but someone else) would. And he blinks and grins and lets himself be fed.

-

“You didn’t… ask me anything about Bennet or whoever,” Chase says later. After lunch they’d wandered the city for a while, window-shopping, ducking in and out of stores. Cameron had bought some tourist-y postcards to mail her parents and nieces but mostly they just wander, not ready to go back to the hotel. It’s early enough in spring it’s tempting to walk arm in arm, shoulder to shoulder — a couple would, and that’s what they’re pretending, isn’t it?

“Because it went so well last time anyone asked you about your family,” she reminds him.

“There’s not that much to tell,” he admits, and she holds her breath a little, waiting. “He’s old friends with my father. Was my dad’s protege. They wrote a bunch of papers. I’ve only met him a handful of times really.” His laugh is a sigh. “When I started med school, he sent me a card.”

“I looked up your dad once,” Cameron admits cautiously. A few weeks after she’d met the man, when she was still trying to figure out what Chase’s deal was. The immediate recrimination she’s expecting doesn’t come, but she wraps her arm around his and feels his sudden tension. “He was a… big deal.”

“It’s one of the reasons I moved to the States,” Chase admits. “Every job interview I had started with how’s your dad? and got worse from there.”

“You’re telling me you didn’t want to go the easy route?” she teases, because Chase’s lack of ambition isn’t exactly a secret.

“Of course I did. Way easier,” he adds, taking her hand in his, “to move somewhere my father didn’t spend four months out of the year as a guest lecturer in every medical school in Australia.”

-

They’d gotten two hotel rooms.

Needlessly.

Chase is on the eighteenth floor, but Cameron is on the fifteenth: when the elevator stops on hers first she pulls him out after her, kissing him right there in the hall. “Aggressive,” he teases breathlessly as they stumble into her room, his shirt collar tight in her fist —

“You love it,” she says with a laugh, girlish and teasing, pulling away from another kiss to shrug off her coat, her blazer, fingers going to work on the buttons of her shirt.

His expression flickers; his eyes wide. At her shirtlessness, she thinks. “Yeah,” he says, winded.

“Take off your clothes,” she says, grinning, because he’s just watching her, and it’s silly — a little endearing — he should be so taken aback because how many times has he seen her breasts by now? He peels his shirt off obediently and then he’s kissing her, really kissing her, fingers curling around her ear, in her hair — like this isn’t a hookup between colleagues but like it matters, and she can’t catch her breath, can���t figure out what to do with her hands — runs them up and down his sides, his back, and it’s just sex. Just a physical release. Between colleagues.

But they’re somewhere new, away from work and everyone who knows them, and he pushes her gently down onto the mattress, and she pushes her fingers through his hair and laughs breathlessly as he kisses a ticklish spot at her hip. If they were dating, there’d be a word for this, she thinks.

-

On the drive back to Princeton, Chase scribbles out a rough draft of a rebuttal of Dr. Bennet’s lecture, reading sentences aloud so Cameron can chime in and debate phrasing. Between the car and Chase’s terrible handwriting it’s absolutely unreadable, but by the time they’re back at the hospital, they’ve got the first two pages ready for review.

“How was the conference?” Foreman asks disinterestedly when they make it to the fourth floor.

“Where’s House?” Chases asks, clearly — and amusingly — put out that he can’t show off their ‘paper’ right away.

“With our new case,” Foreman says, tossing a file at Cameron. “Some celebrity photographer. She’s pregnant,” he adds, making a face, “so this one will be fun.”

[the-french-belphegor]

Making my way (makinmawaayy) through my @critter-genfic-events bingo card, and this one's filling the "fights" slot! Or rather, "post-fight", which they told me works as well. Also it's set way before the start of the stream, when they're all more acquaintances and travelling companions than the friends and family we see later. They're already buds, though, for the most part.

Posting it on AO3 ASAP Now on AO3! Hope Tumblr doesn't hide the post from the tags! 🤞

(oh yeah, side note: I do know that concentration-based spells get dropped when you either don’t roll high enough to maintain it or when you take too much damage – like both invisibility spells do in DnD. But I liked the idea of being so concussed you don’t remember how to drop a spell :3)

—

Scrambled

Scanlan is pretty sure someone’s calling his name in the distance with a certain amount of worry. It’s okay, he thinks but doesn’t say. He’s gonna get back up any time now. He’s fine.

(Scanlan is more than fine, Scanlan is a godsdamn snack, thank you very much.)

In fact, he might even go as far as to let the word drag, let some notes slide a little: fiiiine. Four ‘i’s should about do it.

(Heh, four ‘i’s. Four eyes. That’s Percy. Where’s Percy?)

So, to recap, Scanlan is fine as hell, and he’s okay because he’s always okay, even with a headache so bad he’s pretty sure his brain is leaking out of his ears. Won’t check, though, that might be gross and his stomach isn’t doing too well either at the moment. Barfing while lying on your back? Yeah, no, bad idea. Of all the ways to die, drowning in his own puke is probably around number… sixty-eight.

Sixty-nine would be, of course, a particularly ill-advised tumble with someone with an ungodly number of teeth and a taste for blood, preferably that of a gnome with more curiosity than sense. As always with sex stuff with consenting adults, though, Scanlan isn’t willing to completely dismiss the idea.

Might be fun to try someday, who knows.

When he’s less tired.

Why’s everything swimming?

Actually asking out loud is out of the question, since for some reason his voice can’t even make it out of his throat, let alone his mouth –

(oh fuck no, if I can’t sing I’m toast, if I can’t play I’m dead, if I can’t talk we’re done)

– so at the price of an effort so bad he almost upchucks everything since the invention of breakfast Scanlan pivots his head juuuust a little to the left.

And sees nothing.

Well, no, not exactly. He sees yellowing grass, some dirt, a bit of sky. But nothing where his shoulder should be, or the rest of him.

…Oh yeah. He made himself invisible a while back. Somewhere between Tiberius’ Fireball, Vex’s arrows, and Percy’s pepperbox and its more-or-less controlled explosions. (Or maybe Percy went before him. Right before the world got very loud, very fast, and then very quiet. Somehow there’s a connection between this and that.) Dropping the invisibility looks like a really good idea, if only Scanlan could remember how. As things stand, he can barely remember to breathe. Oh, and also that the warm stickiness soaking up the back of his head and seeping into his collar is Not A Good Thing – not that there’s a lot he can do about that.

Things are rather quiet now. He must’ve missed the end of the fight.

Seriously, though, where’s Percy? Scanlan can’t hear the usual blasts and somewhere in the shattered mess that is his brain there’s a nagging inkling that it’s a bad sign. Or maybe there’s something else poking at the edges of his mind, he doesn’t know. He’s not exactly up to turning stuff over in his head at the moment. Turning his head was hard enough.

He’s just gonna… chill there for a while. Rest his eyes a little bit.

Which is why he doesn’t spot Vex running over until she drops to a crouch next to him and squashes his hand with her knee for five seconds.

Vex’ahlia is sharp eyes, sharp aim, sharp words, sharp everything. Her knees are no exception. Ow.

“Shit shit shit, fucking shitballs,” Scanlan hears her mutter under her breath as her hands find his head with uncanny precision considering she can’t see him. Her ‘t’s are beautifully defined, her vowels clear and precise. It’s a pity she sings so rarely; most performers would kill to have her diction.

“PIKE!” she yells over her shoulder. “OVER HERE!”

Pike, echoes the part of Scanlan’s mind that’s still functional. It would have been a small, pitiful yearning sound if he’d been able to speak. Thank goodness the word doesn’t pass his lips as is. It’s frankly a little scary just how the thought of her – the first in a while that doesn’t feel fractured in some way – quietens the part of him that’s not watching the proceedings with a detached interest. Pike is fun to flirt with and try to charm; she’s beautiful and radiant and strong, anyone with an appreciation for the female form can see that, so it’s not so surprising that Scanlan always feels drawn to her like a sunflower to sunshine. It’s so easy to let himself get starry-eyed over her, even if she’s so completely out of his league it bypasses sad and goes straight into funny. Scanlan probably is in love with her, a little bit, like he’s a little bit in love with everyone. Just… sometimes… sometimes when he calls her the love of his life he’s not sure he’s joking.

The nausea and the waves of blinding pain relent a little.

Pike?

No, Scanlan corrects himself, Vex, who when he manages to focus for more than a second finds his gaze and holds it. Unerringly.

Which must mean… the hour is up. The spell must be wearing off.

Huh.

“There you are,” says Vex, residual magic still shimmering in her fingers after her low-level Cure Wounds. She must really be tapped out.

There is blood in her hair and one of her feathers is bent at the stem, but the most telling cue that the fight went wrong is the brittle quality of her smile. She’s good at putting up a front, almost as good as Scanlan; insight isn’t Scanlan’s forte, let alone when his head feels like it’s just been cracked open like an egg, but sometimes seeing Vex’ahlia slice her way through life like a knife, just as sharp and just as shiny, is like staring into a warped mirror.

She’s good.

He’s better.

(Usually.)

“How’d you find me?” he croaks.

Vex draws back the hand she was using to prop herself with a couple of inches from his head. Her palm is coated with red.

“Head wounds, darling. They tend to bleed rather a lot.” She cocks her head to the side. “How did you even end up all the way here in the first place?”

Scanlan’s memories still feel like a scattered jigsaw, but at least now the pieces are right side up. What he puts together isn’t very glorious. Getting punted into a rock by a giant who only heard you and who was supposed to go down easily isn’t anything to brag about. At least he can always quip about it.

“Well,” he wheezes out with a grin that might work better without the blood in his teeth, “I got got.”

Then he remembers why the giant whirled round blindly and whacked him with his club. He’d been out of any useful magic, trying to sneak up on it with a fucking sword, of all things, because the big dumb fucknut had somehow gotten hold of—

“Shit, Percy – where’s Percy?”

Vex’s own smile gets wry and just a little shaky at the corner.

“He got got,” she says. There’s a story there, but at least Vex doesn’t look like it ended in tragedy. Instinctively Scanlan relaxes into his headache. “Don’t worry, though. Pike reached him in time and Grog and Keyleth got the giant.”

Oh. Good. Percival Freakystein von Mussels Colossal de Rolo III is one scary motherfucker with his pepperbox and his glasses and his devastating one-liners, but he’s still squishy as hell. Plus, well, he’s so young – Scanlan is fairly sure he’s twice, maybe three times older. The kid must be, what, mid-twenties tops? That’s way too young to die, especially having experienced so little of what the world has to offer. Scanlan would bet anything the stuck-up nerd has never taken anyone to bed, for the gods’ sake.

They’re all assholes, in the SHITs, sort of (except Pike, of course, and probably Keyleth too) but Scanlan likes them. If the universe suddenly decides that an asshole has to get killed today, he’d rather it be him rather than one of the others.

Still, nobody needs to know that.

“Worry, me? Please, I never worry.”

“I know you don’t, darling. I’m just updating you on what you missed while you were having a kip.”

Vex’s tone is even, her words light, and yet when Scanlan meets her gaze it’s like crossing blades. Somehow it also feels like grasping hands in reassurance and honestly it unnerves him a little. He prefers to know where they stand, and usually he does: he’ll downplay close calls and tell lewd jokes to alleviate the tension, while she’ll be sarcastic and magnificent and not call him out on his lies on the occasion she sees through them. But sometimes she reminds him that both twins are like blades, swift and sharp in more than one way, and in some of them she’s the sharpest. Gods, she’s terrifying.

He’s saved from having to retort something by the metallic rustle of ring mail over heavy cotton as Pike rushes up to him. Perspiration left traces in the dirt smudged across her face and her dark hair is mussed, whole locks coming out of her braided bun. She smells like sweat and leather and a little like wild strawberries, and she’s the most beautiful thing Scanlan’s ever seen.

Pike doesn’t lose a second with platitudes; she just gives him a very professional once-over, almost clinical in its efficiency, then cups his face with her hands with a look of intense concentration, eyes closed. The healing spell she pours into him feels so potent it’s practically an out-of-body experience. For a couple of seconds all Scanlan feels is warmth, clean and bright and fierce, and when he opens eyes he doesn’t remember closing his ears are still ringing.

Although that might be the blood loss.

Which would also neatly explain how weak he still is, especially when Pike’s face goes soft.

“You okay?” she asks quietly.

There are so many answers he could give her.

I am now – with a wink and a nod.

I want to have your babies – with a theatrical gesture that will make her laugh.

I am if you are – with his heart in a smile. (NOPE.)

“I’m always okay,” Scanlan finally says with a grin, hoping for an echo.

Which he gets, so points to him for being awesome. Pike Trickfoot should always have a reason to smile.

Vex snorts and somehow still manages to make it sound classy as hell.

“Sure. Which is why the only reason I found you at all was the random pool of blood on the ground thirty feet from where we thought you were. You’re lucky I’m a good tracker.”

“Fair, fair,” he says with a careful nod. “Although that could’ve been from some forest critter that met a grisly end.”

“Please, this much blood, and this fresh? How dumb do you think I am?”

Scanlan sits up on his elbows and counts off on his fingers. “One, that’s gross – two, ‘dumb’ is the last of things that you are and you know it all too well – three, thank you for saving my life – four, that’s still so gross, oh my gods. What’d you do, sniff out my lifeblood?!”

“It was me or Trinket,” says Vex, looking way more smug than she has any right to. “It just so happens I beat him at the game of ‘spot the invisible gnome’. You know, before he dies on us.”

“Oh no. What a loss that would be. Such a young, useful bear, too.”

“How scrambled did your brains get? I meant you, you dick.”

Her peeved expression eases just as quickly as the smugness hardened into a glare, and she smiles at Pike before straightening up and striding off toward the others. Her perfect hips swing subtly as she walks, in an unassuming way Scanlan knows from experience requires a lot of work. He’d find her so hot if she wasn’t so scary.

(Well, he does find her extremely hot, if only because she could break him with either a gesture or a word, but despite popular belief Scanlan Shorthalt isn’t that reckless. Even he can weigh the pros and cons occasionally before deciding that diving in headfirst isn’t a good idea.)

There’s a snort on his right, and his whole world is Pike again.

“I really don’t get your little war on Trinket,” she says, but there’s a twinkle in her eyes.

“When he starts landing actual hits on whatever we’re fighting or even just holding his own more than two minutes, I might reconsider. Right now he’s just a glorified pack mule.”

“He’s plenty useful. He gives the best massages, for one thing. And he’s a good boy.”

I can be a good boy, Scanlan almost retorts, but refrains at the last minute. The lie is too big to work, even as a joke, and he doesn’t like the sliver of truth behind it, like the glint of a blade. So he settles for a fake disgruntled huff and a grin.

Nothing falls off as he picks himself up with Pike’s help, so that’s good news. He just has to suppress a shiver at the congealed blood, now gone cold, that makes the top of his shirt stick to his back. His ponytail is a mess, a clump of matted hair half glued to his neck. Ugh, he hates having to wash blood out of his hair.

His usual armour is back on, though. Pike doesn’t seem to notice the shiver; the look of slight worry she gives him has a general fight-almost-gone-very-bad flavour of ‘are you okay’ to it.

“I am glad you didn’t get scrambled,” she says in a rare mix of bluntness and thoughtfulness that’s uniquely Pike. “You know, for good. I mean, you looked pretty bad there for a moment.”

“Aw, Pikey-pants,” Scanlan says in a singsong voice, “don’t tell me you were worried.”

Pike gives a half shrug, which he feels because she’s thrown one of his arms over her shoulders and is supporting some of his weight.

“Oh well, you know,” she says in an offhand voice, a little high-pitched, “a little? You’re never silent this long, and then Grog and I couldn’t find you, and then Keyleth said she heard the giant hit something with his club, and then—”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about me, okay? Never worry about me.” He smiles, big and toothy, to counter the frown she gets sometimes when he says things like that. “I mean, there’s really no need. I’m awesome! I’m Burt Reynolds!”

This at least gets a smile with the hint of a smirk. Still sweet, though, because Pike could make (and has made) even the bluntest blow feel sweet.

“Esquire.”

Scanlan nods carefully, mock-serious. “Right, right, ‘Esquire’.”

“Shouldn’t forget that bit.”

“No, I should not.”

She smiles at him, sharp but warm, and there it is again – the sudden urge to say something stupid, make a joke, deflect, like raised hackles, because what if she gets the true measure of him? (‘And doesn’t like what she sees’ goes without saying. There’s a reason Scanlan spent the last couple of decades carefully building himself up.)

Being a charismatic bastard means sometimes you can afford to coast on charm alone. He grins and changes the subject, as swift and dextrous as a knife in Vax’s hand, and that’s it. Matters closed.

Honestly, he’d have to be a lot more scrambled than that for it not to work.

“No, Grog, there’s already a troll dick in the bag of holding, we’re not keeping a giant dick as well!”

…Plus there’s always the next distraction. That works, too.

—

(until it doesn’t, but he doesn’t know that yet!)

I started writing this on a whim and then couldn’t decide who I wanted to find Scanlan between Vex, Vax and Pike – so I decided to sort it out with a d20, set the DC at 20 (“hard”, because he’s invisible) and roll a perception check for each member of VM using their proficiencies at level 10 (the earliest character sheets of theirs Critrolestats have). Both Pike and Grog rolled a natural 1 :’( Keyleth and Percy got a 9, and even with +10 and +7 respectively for perception they failed the check; Vax got 26 (rolled a 16 with +10 perception) and then Vex got the same number but by rolling a nat 20! Plus her passive perception is 22, so that makes sense. And she was top of my list anyway, so ^^

(I spun the whump wheel a couple of times, thinking I’d get a good handful of prompts for some short snippets (like <1k words) and then happened on “concussion” and. Well. Someone clearly had a lot of thoughts about that one...)

[voidselfshipp]

Internal Investigation

Incident Elements: cannon typical horror themes. Body horror,violence,religious themes,extinction/nihilism adjacent themes. Acid burn scar mentioned

Summary: Heinrich notices something about Alice,a certain Mark of something like him yet entirely different. So,he decides to ask. The drive is long,afterall.

A/n: so nervous to put this in the main tag! But i ADORE my extinction avatarsona,and I think the extinction is quite underdeveloped and underrated.

If you're wondering what this is all about,just look at my blog name/hj. Anyway,theres a reference to a scar that Alice got. Here is the fic where it happens.

I might make a post about my avatar sona eventually. Ill link it here if I do.(Edit. Here it is) Hello fandom! Enjoy the fic and thank you for taking the time to read this!

Heinrich was a bit crammed in the space of the car. He was curled into himself like a huge,scary doll. He looks at Alice,a question swirling in his mind as the street lights pass by.

-- Miss Dyer-- he said with his thick german answer-- I do not mean to pry,but I do have a question id like to ask,bitte. (Please).

--What is it?

Alice wasnt freaked out. Well,maybe a little. Not enough to impair her judgement. She was trying to be polite,and she had figured that if she acted scared she'd be fine.

--I noticed certain smell to you.-- he began-- Not bad. And not your fear. But you're..marked. Another angstjaeger like me. In english I believe it means fear hunter. -- he explained-- But it is an odd smell. Same purpose,different origin. Nothing like me and yet quite the same.

She let a harsh sigh through her nose. She grips the steeringwheel and nodds slowly.

-- if it is a touchy subject-

--No,its not-- She answered sincerely-- Quite the opposite. I was just hoping nobody would notice. -- heinrich seemed confused at such words-- It's.. my boyfriend's. He's kind of like you. He feeds off of fear. Butttt...-- She allows the car to lose speed as she approaches a stoplight-- He says it puts me in danger. I think its the opposite.

-- Its certainly a deterrant. -- the entity agreed. Words dragging as if hes thinking-- It is a weird Mark,ja. Certainly attention catching.

--He's from somewhere else.-- She answered. Something tugs in her, the longing. He didnt like her going to meet another thing like him without his company. But it wouldve made everything harder. -- I suppose he works differently than you lot. I've seen as much?

-- What,exactly,does he do?

-- He serves a different master I guess?-- she answered,even shes unsure-- He said it was kind of a legal loophole where his master wasnt fully formed,so it wasn't as strict. You- you need to understand hes not like the other...stuff--the words were escaping her at the moment-- He does try to make the world better. He feeds off the fear,but also gives hope.

--And what master does he serve?

--The Extinction.

Heinrich mulled over the answer. Chewing and biting on it like acid candy. Hes confused. -- Ive never hears of it.

--Its from somewhere else,as I said. He has this radio show,where people can come in and talk about their fear of the end of the world...then he lets the listeners talk to eachother and reassure eachother. So he gets his fix,and he does little harm.

--Noble. Perhaps too much.

--He's supposed to be an embodiment of extinction. I think its a human only fear-- She shrugs-- I think its only natural he tries to be better. He's very sweet.

--Odd. But he sounds nice.

Amongst the uncertainty of the work she was doing, he was a comfort. She'd love to be home,listening to his radio show and petting all his pets. All the cute little rats,the cockatoo,the greyhound..

They stop at a gas station. Still Open,half working. Some lights were off,others twinkling. She could see rust on some corners,mold..

--Getting peckish,D'you mind?

--Nein.

She parks the car and grabs her bag,feeling the heft of the "Security measure" her boyfriend had given her before she left. At first she thought him paranoid. Now? Not so much.

Alice buys what she needs, the foods edible thankfully. Just,a gas station in the middle of bumfuck nowhere wasnt exactly top priority. As she steps out of the place,her phone buzzes almost violently.

Yet she cant help but smile at the screen that read "4.14.44". She answers the call and her voice softens, mild as the lazy,rocking shores.

--Hey love,I'm okay-- its the first thing she says. -- Just grabbing some snacks. We're going to wherever the hell this program was made.

--Thank god-- Lazaro breathed,so anxious and so worried. She could almost hear the green,noxious mist that came from his mouth. It makes her heart warm-- D'you still have it?

--Yeah-- She answered,patting her bag-- Its nice,its Like keeping a part of you with me.

--Thats the idea,Hon-- He sounds a little calmer now. She hears the noise of a creaking chair-- How's the external?

--Friendly. -- she answered-- Quite nice. He even brought a nice chair for me to sit. It'll be fine,I just need to act all scared. And im a great actress.

Laz laughed,a warm and hearty sound. He sounds so alive-- Alright,I'll stop worrying-- He couldnt help a few stray chuckles-- If you've got any questions about what to find,call me.

--I will-- she shifts her weight and leans on the wall. -- How are you? Arent you doing your program?

--Music section-- He answered-- Playing mostly Hozier songs. I miss you. -- she could hear the rustling of cloth as he moved-- The pets are fine. Leaf's been a bit huffy though,same with papita.

Leaf was a brown,pet Rat. Cheery and snuggly. Papita was a greyhound,playful and full of energy,rescued from a dogfighting ring. Alice loved all the critters, and she loved cuddling up with them and her boyfriend.

--Dont Dodge the question,Love~-- She said in a sing songy voice-- Besides missing me..?

--I still dont think you shouldve gone. Not without me ,at least-- He answered-- These things Will get you Killed if you're not careful and I do trust your skills, I just..I cant help but worry.

Alice looked up to the Sky,catching the sight of the mist slowly passing through the attention of a spotlight. How it dances beautifully,and slowly blankets the world in its sad calmness. It's starting to get cold.

--Hey,listen,I promise I'll come back to you. -- She insisted, her heart squeezing-- I'll even bring you the ugliest souvenir I can find. I love you.

--I love you too-- Lazaro answered,voice soft and so deeply sad. Exhaustion clear in his tone despite how much he tried to give her all his attention-- I gotta feed the kids,the music sections halfway through.

--'kay. You go do that-- she smiled-- Night,Love.

--Night,my sweet Godiva.

She hangs up and puts the phone close to her chest for a moment. She smiles and chuckles to herself as her eyes close and she breathes in the deeply comd air and mist. Warmth settles over her like a blanket or an industrial heater.

--Miss Dyer?

Heinrich's voice startles her to attention. She jumps and lets out a squeak,then turns around with flusteredness and a bit of anger.--Dont scare me like that! Good god.

--Es tut mir Leid (im sorry)-- he said-- you were taking too long and I got worried. -- His eyes fixate on the phone-- Ah.

--Boyfriend called--She answered-- And he was worried. Nothing else,dont worry.

The beings eyes suddenly catch the sight of a scar across her forearm. A burn, marred. It reeked of that odd Mark he had smelled. She seems to notice where his attention is, and she waves him off.

--That one's my fault-- she said-- Laz tells me not to wander too much around his Domain. He lives in this abandoned industrial area. I Strayed too far and...

--Und?

--Met my in-law,so to speak-We do not get along.-- She begins to walk to the car-- C'mon,before someone sees you.

The drive is silent,Heinrich is clearly thinking about this other angstjaeger hes just learnt about. Hes curious,wondering exactly how Alice got tangled into this mess. Something told him she wouldnt answer such personal question.

Alice tapped on the steeringwheel, she could feel his Curiosity. For Lazaro's,and her,safety she'd rather Keep things short. But the odd being had grown on her, he had this sopping wet cat vibe about him.

She sighs and says-- I can feel you dying over there.

--I do have Many questions,Ja.

--I have a story I can tell you. Wont be much of an answer,probably it'll give you more questions. But it's there,if you want it.

--I wouldnt mind-- he made himself comfortable in the Seat-- and the drive is still too long.

Alice breathes out,hyping herself up for the task shes about to undergo. Though there was an urgency in her Driving,in this mission of sorts,she did slow down just a little. At least,for now.

Lazaro is not an aggresive guy.

He's quite sweet,and he could sell water to a fish. But he looks thin,frail. He's a walking skeleton despite the fact that he's always eating and snacking. His sclera is black,and he has this soft,beautiful green eyes.

Despite his appereance, hes quite protective. He does have the strength to back it up.

He's told me little of how he ended up here, but he says that wherever he came from...it was fucked. That he tried to do his best and spare some pain to those he could.

And he keeps to himself,given he is what he is. And that's fine with me. I understand why.

But there was this one night. We were just getting out of a pub, a simple date. I had gotten out of work early.

--Are you cold?-- He said to me,and draped his leather jacket over me before I could answer. I thanked him,and Walked closer.

I remembered he carried a bag with him. It was old leather,he likes to recycle. I figured he had spare cash and whatnot in there,but it did feel heavy with the way it moved as we Walked.

My car wasnt too far away from the bar. But it was dark,and cloudy. The lights barely helped.

A guy tried to mug us,he was clearly not in his right mind. His Knife was crooked and didnt seem sharp at all. But Lazaro reacted on instinct.

He tried to de-escalate the situation. -- I have cash,I can give you that. -- He told him.

--I want the whole bag. And hers too-- The drunk had slurred. It was a bit hard to understand him.

--Cash-- Laz insisted.

The guy got violent then,grabbing me by the bicep and yanking me to him. The Knife was close to my skin,and I could see now the blade was quite dull. Honestly I was surprised the Knife hadn't broken in pieces already.

-- The. Bag.

I could see something change in his the way he looked at our agressor. His green eyes Turned brighter and brighter. I could begin to feel this sticky,acid warm come from him,anger radiating off of him like a heater. It reminded me of the thing that gave me this burn scar.

--Fine. Here you go-- He handed the bag. And as soon as the guy grasped it,Lazaro lunged at him.

This thick,noxious mist began to leave his mouth. Looming over the guy with this feralness,for the first time in my life I saw what he could become. A dark,scary thing.

His hand dug into the guys neck,threatening to strangle him. The mist began to cover all around us, I was holding my breath out of instinct. Laz spoke in a language I didnt understand,and the air began to tense like there was static or electricity.

The bag was there at my feet. Something gleamed from where the zipper had opened thanks to the scuffle. From what little I could see it was something made of old,old leather with goggles and messed up stitching.

Before I ran out of air I opened it, and its then Laz turns to look at me.

His bloodlust filled eyes softened,returning for a split second to those mild and warm green eyes.

--Put it on-- He said in clear english,and then returned to the mugger who,by then, was scared shitless.

Within the bag there was this old plague doctor mask. It looked scuffed to shit, almost falling appart. The leather was worn and greying,the lenses of the goggles cracked,the band around it was half way torn. I didnt have much confidence that it would save me from being asphyxiated to death,or that it wouldnt snap in two once I tried to get the band around my head

But I still put it on.

It was the freshest,cleanest air I've ever breathed.

Through the lenses I could see how Lazaro was still debating if to kill the guy or not. But he seemed way more gaunt that usual,a mere skeleton of dead skin,his spine pushing against his back like a porcupine. I could see his veins black,almost plastic like. His sweat was like an oil spill. I swear I could see his nerves like frayed cables.

In the green mist I could see shadows- like those heat shadows left by atom bombs. I could feel their awful,horrible deaths. And now I could understand what he was saying, the miasma changed forms depending on what he said.

"The tower of Babel stood proud against the Sky,so close to God himself. Their greed and vanity brought their downfall Like David brought down Goliath.

And now you stand here,filth amongst the filth. Crowned in your contamination and waste. So sure that this tower wont fall,and that you're closer to God. You and your human greed,you're getting drunk like the Mother of Harlots. Drinking the blood of the saints that try to make this world a better place.

You violent,Filthy creature. You think of yourself as Cain,when in reality youre just another Abel.

There are no Stones to topple you,you so foolishly think.

But the world...the world is always ending. And Stones Will rain from the Sky like holy fire and turn your world into a wasteland,and there amongst the irridated rubble, i Will stand.

And laugh.

How dare you try to reach me? How dare you try to harm me?

I Will bring down your tower,you foolish,vain insect!"

His mouth opened as the gas around us formed into this animal looking thing around his head. Almost like a scavenging bird. Before the corroded, jagged beak could bite off the guys head I rushed over and pulled Lazaro back.

--Enough!--i screamed over the sound of the static,it was piercing my ears and almost making them bleed.

As soon as Lazaro saw me,everything dissapeared. The mist,that vengeful look in his eyes. The guy ran,and ran,screaming in pure fear.

--Oh my god. Im so sorry-- His eyes glossed over. He was more scared of himself than the mugger. -- Im so sorry,Alice. I didnt- Are you okay? Did I hurt you?-- He took off the mask and let it fall to the ground. -- Im sorry,Im sorry.

I hugged him and brought him down to the ground. He looked ready to drop dead. He cried,asking for forgiveness and ocassionally slipping into his mother tongue. No matter how Many times I told him it was fine,he would still apologize and the way he worded Things...

There was so much self loathing. He called himself a monster,A butcher, a dozen awful things.

--You're none of that-- I insisted. But he wouldnt listen.

I stayed the night with him at his place. I skipped work that night. And its been a few months since then,but I think it still haunts him.

Alice sighed,and slowly pulled to the side of the road. Jetlag and exhaustion burnt her eyes. Heinrich was processing the story,so unlike his kind to be...so human.

--Danke, for the story-- he said, taken aback and almost not believing it-- He is uh. Special. -- he wasnt sure what to say,he didnt want to be hurtful. A million things crossed his mind,mostly snide comments about how could he fear being what he is.

But he knew it was a touchy subject ,and he'd rather not piss off his New "friend".

--You should rest. There's still plenty of time-- Heinrich added. -- i'll Keep watch.

Alice knew Laz would kill her if he knew. But she nodds,not wanting to argue. Without coffee it was hard to stay awake. She went to the back Seat,and kept the bag close to her.

The zipper gets caught in her clothes as she makes herself comfortable,and it opens with an imperceptible little sound.

In the refracted light from a nearby street light,Heinrich can see the gleaming of cracked,dirty glass lenses.

[hpowellsmith]

Hello there! I've been wanting to replay the older Baldur's Gate games, and was searching around for mlm NPC romance mods. I saw yours mentioned and found your site with some googling, but it seems the place they were hosted at is gone now (Spellhold Studios). I was wondering if you still have the mods available somewhere? Either way, I hope you have a great day!

OK, this has made go down a modding-community rabbit hole! I hadn't done anything with our Baldur's Gate 2 mods, or looked at them really, since 2015 and I really appreciate it because they're something that brought my wife and I a ton of joy, and they were the first interactive narratives I made.

Links, descriptions, and comments below because it is Long:

I got in touch with folks on the Gibberlings3 forum which is, wonderfully, still going strong, and have given permission for Faren and Nathaniel to be uploaded to the Spellhold Studios GitHub (which has a bunch of other mods too - do check out Adrian, Isra, and Ninde in particular!) to the team maintaining it. That may be a little while as some of the team are ill right now, but once I hear that it's done, I'll post about it here; I've also been pointed to some links where the mods were mirrored. Note that I haven't tested these myself on a current BG2 install, but it is easy to uninstall WeiDU mods if there's a problem.

Faren is a bisexual True Neutral fighter/thief (I can't remember if he's dual-classed or multi-classed) who's easygoing, down-to-earth, and up for partying, with a bit of a checkered past - his adventuring party died in one of the dungeons you can visit in BG2, and since then he's been picking up dodgy jobs, feeling a bit adrift, and trying to get his life back on track. That's where the PC comes in! You can befriend him or romance him (starting with either a casual or more committed tone, then committing further if you want to), and he has a personal quest in which a shady figure from his past wants him to do one last job. He was our third mod, and we'd developed our skills with writing and scope a lot by then. When I play BG2, I play with Faren! You can currently download Faren here. It's the version updated in 2015 with more banters with modded NPCs and the Enhanced Edition characters; there may be compatibility issues installing it with other newer mods but do give it a try.

I found The Luxley Family, which was our second mod, on the GitHub here. From a cursory (rusty) glance it looks like it should be compatible with Enhanced Edition, but the storyline is only for Shadows of Amn and doesn't continue into Throne of Bhaal. Sebastian and Andrei (Chaotic Neutral bard with a custom kit and Lawful Neutral monk respectively) are members of a mysterious, reclusive family who are under a curse. Sebastian's a worldly playwright who's showing his polite but moody teenage cousin Andrei the sights when they bump into the PC. They aren't romanceable, but you can have a fling with Sebastian, who's bisexual, if you let/help him mess up his life sufficiently.

Nathaniel is a Lawful Good gay fighter with a lot of feelings. He was our first mod and I am really proud of the impact he had on a lot of people and even other games back in the day, but if you play, go in expecting a LOT of feelings good and bad, relationship drama, and angst! (There's something very sad about the fact that as teens we could not imagine a D&D setting without homophobia back then; the idea of a knightly order thinking well of gay people just didn't cross our minds. it's extraordinary how much better a lot of things are now, including the queerness in D&D streams, books, and of course Baldur's Gate 3. Interestingly, we didn't include homophobia in the Luxley Family or Faren and I don't remember how conscious that was; maybe we'd become more hopeful by then.) You can download an outdated version of Nathaniel here but I don't think it will be compatible with Enhanced Edition.

Thank you so much for messaging! I didn't realise they weren't able to be downloaded anymore and I am really keen for digital art to be preserved (as well as players getting to smooch hot guys, of course).

(Digression - my wife and I have a couple of almost-finished mods on our computer: a lesbian cleric of Talos which she wrote, and a bi Valygar romance that I wrote. And, if it's among two computers' ago worth of external hard drive storage, the ending for the Luxley Family story. Who knows, maybe one day...)

[jessepinkmanlvr]

Okok. Not hating, I respect (and might agree with you), but why do you hate Jane? Maybe I'm illiterate, but she just felt like a nice girlfriend who wanted to get high with her boyfriend

ty for asking i’m happy to explain, ill probably make a more detailed post again later but here’s one for now:

also anon just to preface!! you are NOT illiterate for having ur own media opinions! i personally got harassed by this person on tik tok from multiple alt accs being told i don’t have media literacy bc i don’t like jane and as much as i hate her i would never shit on ppl for viewing a media from a diff perspective if they’re expressing their personal views without hate!! 💗💗

okay here’s my two cents:

I don’t think she even actually considered him her boyfriend lmao

she only became “jesse’s junkie girlfriend” when she saw someone who would go down with her or for her. before that we got “who’s you and me”

and then when she got him on heroin which is WAY worse than weed which he offered her (before he knew she was clean and then he fucked off!!) she didn’t start telling him not to lay on his back until she found out he had some money coming

then it’s “as long as we’re together 🥹🥹” as if she dosen’t walk all over him the whole relationship

she’s like if the most scrub dude you know was a fine ass goth white girl

she’s posted up at jesse’s crib 25/8 to either fuck, shoot up, or run from her responsibilities and EAT HIS FOOD?? LMFAO like dude right after she acts like he’s a fucking weirdo for talking to her in front of her dad she comes in and starts rummaging through his freezer and asks to go somewhere

does she even have a car.. like ITS GIVING SCRUB 😭😭 and then when he’s reasonably upset and feeling insecure about the interaction she snaps at him IN HIS OWN APARTMENT

AND HE’S THE ONE THAT LEAVES

and now some of yall jane defenders are probably gonna say i only hate her cus i love jesse lmao no let’s look at her and her dad

he is SO different to jesse parents, all he wants is communication from her, he isn’t ashamed of her. like adam and diane. he is willing to sit there by her side during rehab and drive her to her meetings and learn about her personal interests.

with that jesse interaction she could have explained that he’s the new tenant and she’s getting to know him not just like completely brush him off and even if her dad was suspicious of jesse’s use she could have said like “hey dad, i’ve been clean for 18 months i can make my own decisions and he isn’t pressuring me.”

but oh no we got scrub behavior part 97 😭😭

then when she starts using again she knows that she’s still daddy’s girl so she puts on the most GRATING little voice like “daddy nooo 🥺🥺 my houseplants” oh my god if i was her mama i woulda whooped her ass.