#apparently you're not allowed to party in this city

[junebugdunes]

they got kicked out of party city

[sodaneko]

𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 (𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐚 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝟎𝟏 ; 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭: 𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐚

♫ Nilüfer Yanya - midnight sun

Love is raised by common thieves // Hiding diamonds up their sleeves // Always I did it for you // Never felt so sure // You're my best machine // You're my midnight sun // Always I did it for you

word count: 4.3k

⭅ back to m.list

“And this is the secret snack drawer of our department. Bossman refills it every Tuesday so you gotta be quick if you wanna snatch your favs before someone else does.” “Alright, thanks Bokuto-san, I’ll keep it in mind.”

When they said office tour this wasn’t exactly what you imagined, but you’re not complaining. You trail behind this giant puppy of a man who can barely contain his excitement over showing you around the building. While he gives off the impression that there’s not a single thought behind these unsettling eyes of his, you can tell that he is a sweetheart to his core and you have a good feeling about working together.

It’s been an hour since Kiyoko from HR–the most beautiful girl you’ve ever laid your eyes on–dropped you off in the hands of your future team and so far you’ve seen: 

The half-heartedly fixed window on the 3rd floor a certain “Tsum-Tsum” broke during last month’s office party

The girls restroom where Yachi from Marketing could be heard crying (“She schedules her crying session between meetings, it’s normal for her so don’t worry!”)

The cafeteria and which vending machines there to avoid, as well as the ones Bokuto ended up being stuck with his arm in 

The rooftop where they hold events during the warmer months (and where you accidentally locked yourself out when the door fell shut behind you–thankfully a guy built like a french door fridge who introduced himself as Meian came to your rescue after twenty minutes).

The coffee shop next door where everyone goes because the in-house coffee is ass apparently and HR cut budget for a new coffee machine 

What you haven’t seen yet:

Your future cubicle and the floor your team works on

The IT department where you’re supposed to pick up your work laptop

The showrooms of the latest collection

The Bossman 

Still, your nervousness from this morning is easing slowly. When you applied for this position, you wouldn’t have thought that they’d actually hire you considering what a mess your resume is on paper. Moved overseas with your family in middle school and continued living there till a month ago. Dropped out of college to pursue a career as seamstress (all self-taught no less because an apprenticeship meant too much commitment). Then chased that promised record label deal with your band which didn’t happen before you crashed and burned out big time. 

Frankly speaking, you were tired. 

It’s as if every decision in your life was either taken away from you or led you down a miserable path. Everything you touched just crumbled underneath your fingertips. Sometimes you catch yourself thinking that maybe you weren’t built for this kind of life. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a dreamer. 

Something boring. Something stable. 

You applied for this corporate job with the hope in your heart that you can find some rest. Putting an end to worrying about bills at the end of the month, and finally knowing which bed you’ll fall asleep in at night, seeing the same old city day in, day out. Maybe a place to call home but then again you didn’t allow yourself to wish for too much. Just a change from whatever trainwreck your life had been prior to this would be nice. 

You loved sewing and making music with your entire being, but maybe you never should’ve built a living on it–if you could even call the past few years of your adulthood that. Living. It felt more like surviving. You’ve been missing that joy over these things you used to love the most for a long time now. 

So when you got the call that you got the job last month, you didn’t have to think twice. You started packing your few belongings into boxes the same day and gave notice to quit your shabby flat. The money you once saved to go on a world tour with your band now came in handy to fund your move back to Japan. It all happened so fast. In a way it felt like an escape, like giving up; but in your heart you knew this was the right thing to do. 

Maybe you had to take your eyes off the things you loved to really see them again.

“Hello…? Yes, she’s with me. What? No, I wasn’t showing her the view from the fire escape ladder. Should I? Why am I getting yelled at?”

You snap out of your thoughts when Bokuto answers a call that obviously makes him go through all emotions in the span of a minute. He gestures something to you and you have no idea what it means, but based on context clues you assume it’s “the bossman” on the other end of the line. 

“Meeting room on cloud nine, got it. What? But ‘ninth floor' sounds so boring… yeah, yeah, I’ll bring her. No detours, got it. Not even… no? Okay.”

Bokuto hangs up the phone and you swear his hair looks a little deflated, just like his overall expression. He really was an open book. It was kind of refreshing.

“Did you get in trouble because of me?”, you ask and he shakes his head vehemently. 

“No, no! I showed you all the important stuff and Omi-Omi–I mean, the bossman–will show you the boring rest. Like where your desk is and everything. He’s back from his out-of-office appointment and booked a meeting room for you two. I’ll take you there!”

Omi. The corners of your mouth twitch a little when you hear that name, a sweet memory unraveling in your chest. Bruised knees and ice cream dripping down your knuckles, small hands pushing you on the swings and braiding flower crowns made from daisies for you. Plucked out petals. He loves me, he loves me not. Friendship bracelets and baby teeth. 

You aren’t any good with names, but you’re sure you would’ve remembered this one during the interview process. 

“This Omi-Omi…” you wonder as you follow Bokuto’s lead, “is he a new hire as well? I’ve spoken with a ton of people for my interview but if I remember correctly the team leader was someone called Miya Osamu…?”

“Ohh, you spoke with Myaa-sam!” Bokuto’s eyes seem to light up. “No, he doesn’t work here anymore, just his carbon copy! Quit the job to follow his dreams, he said. He’s about to open his own restaurant just around the corner actually! We should go there for lunch once it’s open!”

A strange emotion tugs on your heartstrings. Following your dreams. Yeah, that ended disastrous for you but still you can’t help but feel a pang of envy over everyone who does it anyway. You try to shove it deep down, far away. It’s long in the past. You’re here now, a new chapter. New faces. New routines. All new. Same old you. 

“Omi-Omi got promoted when Myaa-sam left, so that’s why you haven’t met him during your interviews,” Bokuto adds and holds out a door for you. “Don’t worry about him. He can be a bit grumpy at times but he has a sparkly heart or whatever the saying is. You’ll get along just fine!”

Bokuto leaves you alone with your thoughts in the small meeting room. You’re not sure what to do while you wait. The prospect of sitting still seems awful but you also don’t wanna be nosey and flip through the fabric samples someone left on the table or read through the flipchart in the corner, even though you’re tempted, so you end up pacing around the room and looking outside the big windows. Everything outside seems so small from up this high. It makes you feel irrelevant too and it’s a strangely comforting feeling. Being nothing but a name, a small gear in a bigger picture. Maybe if you become a blank canvas, you can find the colors in your world again. 

You twirl around when the door clicks open, flattening down your skirt, suddenly now very aware that the moving box with your flatiron is still stuck on some container at sea. Doesn’t matter, maybe you can pull it off as edgy or casual chic with the right amount of charm and charisma. 

Behind you, the door clicks open, making you twirl around. 

And freeze.

“Sorry I’m late, I picked up your work laptop from the IT department on my way, so we can get started right aw–” 

Leather sleeve holders on a spotless white shirt. A black face mask covering the lower half of his face. Dark curls, moving like the sea at night. Hands so large they’d swallow yours easily if you ever get to hold them again. Two birthmarks, right above the eye–that’s where a lover used to kiss you in a past life, you remember saying when you were both kids.

“Kiyoomi,” you hear yourself mutter. It sounds distant, like an echo from the past. It’s been over a decade since you tasted his name in your mouth and even after all this time your hearts still recognize each other. 

“Ah,” he says and then, after a pause, “you.”

He looks dumbfounded and just stands there frozen, balancing a bundle of paperworks and a laptop in one hand and two styrofoam cups of coffee in the other. For a few seconds you just blink at each other, trying to process whatever cheap trick the universe decided to play here.

Sakusa Kiyoomi. The boy you claimed you’d marry one day when you were both just eight years old. You remember being so sure about it. How the thought never left you growing up; and how you broke down crying when your parents told you about their plans to move overseas for their work during your first year of middle school, the end of a dream. 

Eventually you snap out of your paralysis. 

“Ah, you. What kind of non-reaction is that?”, you ask and shake your head, laughing. You take the coffee from his hand and reach out to slowly peel the mask off his face. Despite his brows knitting together, he doesn’t protest it. It’s strange, seeing him. The boy you once promised your heart to in the sandbox and the grown man with the same face, just sharper. You wonder what he sees when he looks at you now. 

“Well, excuse me, but the girl who I still have a bite mark from when we were kids just spawned out of the blue in front of me,” Kiyoomi huffs, rolling his eyes like he used to when he was annoyed by your antics. He cups one side of your face with his now free hand and lifts it slightly as if to get a better look at you, his thumb idly caressing your cheek. It feels awfully intimate and you find yourself leaning closer into his touch.

Omi. Your Omi. 

It’s as if time stood still between you; as if not over a decade has passed since you last saw each other. Held each other. Murmured promises in each other's ears as you hugged goodbye in the pouring rain. Of course it was pouring that day, it was as if the heavens were weeping over the two of you being separated. Maybe that's the universe's apology for this past dick move, you think, the corners of your lips curling upwards.

Kiyoomi lets go of your cheek and flicks your forehead as if he read your mind. Another habit from back then.

“Still a daydreamer,” he remarks and for the first time since he walked into the room he smiles and it’s like the sun has risen again after years of winter. 

When you sit down together, so close that your knees under the table are touching, you find it hard to focus. Kiyoomi explains the applications you’ll work with, your logins, company security policies, which meetings you’ll attend with him the upcoming weeks and the hierarchy of your team, but you don’t follow. At all. You’re too distracted by the flutter in your chest and wondering what the shaved part in the back of his neck would feel like if you ran your fingers over it, as well as what he’d been up to over the past decade, and why he never answered your letters, and… 

Your phone vibrating on the table next to you snaps you out of your thoughts. You click your tongue in annoyance when you see it’s the moving company calling you. 

“Sorry, I gotta take this. Won’t take long,” you apologize and pick up the phone, leaving the room for an ounce of privacy–it’s not like the thin walls muffle much when you yell into the speaker for five minutes only to hang up in defeat. 

Kiyoomi looks up when you return, his eyes looking you up and down with the same intense gaze like he always did.

“Boyfriend trouble?” His voice is bland, seemingly disinterested, but no matter how much he tries to hide it you can still hear the underlying weight of the question. “Or girlfriend trouble. Didn’t mean to make assumptions.” 

You slump down on your chair again and sigh in defeat, shaking your head. 

“None of that. It’s the damn moving company,” you huff, slamming your phone back on the table. “They mixed up dates and now I’m here but all my stuff isn’t.” You rub the bridge of your nose in annoyance. “It’s been almost a month and my back will kill me if I have to spend one more night on an air mattress.”

Kiyoomi drums his fingers on the table, pondering. You can tell by the furrow of his brows and the intensity of his gaze. Once again you notice what a fine man he has become. His beauty would’ve been intimidating if you haven’t known him since you were little kids. 

“Stay with me.”

You look up from your phone where you wrote down the new date they gave you for the arrival of your furniture and blink at him slowly. Not fully registering what he’s saying.

“Stay with me,” Kiyoomi repeats again, noticing your confusion. “Till your things arrive. I have a guest room. It’s a short commute to the job. I cook and I clean.” He shuts his laptop and gets up, running a hand through his dark curls. 

“And…?”, you ask, as if waiting for the condition because surely it sounds too good to be true. 

“And maybe I’m also worried that you’ll turn out to be nothing but a fever dream if I take my eyes off you again.”

In the evening, Kiyoomi and you stop by your almost empty apartment to pick up your suitcases with a change of clothes. 

Sneaking away after work together without the rest of the team noticing was surprisingly easy–Meian had clocked out early to pick up his partner from school (Kiyoomi begged him to clarify that she was a teacher to avoid any future confusion), Bokuto and Atsumu were stuck in an elevator (“They’re not my responsibility after 5pm”) and Hinata went out for dinner with some business partners from Brazil. 

When Kiyoomi saw how you were dressed for the chilly autumn weather, he wordlessly turned around and disappeared in the office building for five minutes again, showing up with a scarf that looked suspiciously like the one the mannequin in the showroom wore, from the collection that wasn’t supposed to see the light yet. Nobody has to know, especially not how tenderly he wraps it around you, making sure you stay warm. He always did. 

Some kind of protective instinct within him kicks in when you unlock the door to your place. Kiyoomi, who huffed about the lack of security of your apartment complex for the duration of the whole elevator ride and then some more when you let him in, was now checking your windows and front door. 

“You’re gonna tire yourself out from all that head shaking and tongue clicking, Omi,” you tell him while you stuff your scattered clothes across the floor back into your two big suitcases. Most of them were absolutely not fit for the season because after spending half of your life abroad. You kind of underestimated how cold Japan could get during autumn and winter. Maybe you could sew a few pieces after work and on the weekends. 

“This place is a rathole,” Kiyoomi groans after turning the dripping faucet on and off and making a face of utter disapproval. “You should just move in with me permanently.”

“I’m not moving in with you, I just met you like eight hours ago,” you snarl back and roll your eyes, but maybe, in the back of your mind, you’re considering it. 

Kiyoomi crouches down next to you, taking your chin between his fingers so you’d look at him.

“Eight hours my ass,” he huffs. “Don’t act like we spent our childhood glued together. You slept more in my bed than in yours. The memory foam of my mattress kept the shape of you long after you were gone.”

“Now that’s kinda romantic.” 

You glance at him, a small smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. Your Omi. How you missed him. His thumb traces the outline of your jaw, and for a fleeting second you wonder if he’s gonna kiss you. 

Maybe you really want him to kiss you. 

You take a cab to Kiyoomi’s apartment (“What have you packed in these suitcases? Bricks? I’m not hauling these to the other end of the city. Get in.”) and he holds your hand for the entire duration of the ride under the feeble excuse that your hands are too cold. On the outside you watch the city lights pass by, an artificial milky way that unexpectedly lead you back into your first love’s arms.

Kiyoomi’s place is clean and spacious without being cold. The scent of it is making your brain tingle in a strange way, the subtle note of an almost forgotten childhood memory resurfacing again; the boy you once loved still living here but also someone else, someone he grew into without you.

You step out of your heels and shrug off your jacket and the scarf, dropping them carelessly to the ground. Behind you Kiyoomi bends down to hang it up neatly on the coat rack while you waltz inside as if you own this place. Another thing that hasn’t changed since you both were little. 

Expensive, you think, recognizing some of the furniture brands and decorations. In one corner of the living room stands a vintage serving cart, crystal glasses and pricey bottles of various alcohols on top of it. His walls are adorned with artworks of all sizes, but otherwise they’re bare, the shelves missing trinkets and personal touches like framed photos of family and friends. 

Still, the whole place feels like a home, lived in by someone as quiet and private as Kiyoomi. 

“It’s late, I’m gonna order us some food,” Kiyoomi announces when he appears behind you, fingers tapping on his phone screen in one hand while the other unbuttons his shirt a little. He doesn’t look at you, just hands you his phone, gesturing vaguely. “Pick anything you like. My treat.”

Sitting down on the couch with your knees hugged to your chest, you scroll through the food options. Your attention span is fleeting, your eyes darting from the screen to Kiyoomi who carries your suitcases to the guest bedroom. Giving you a place to be, to stay, like it’s the most natural thing to do. Suddenly you’re very aware of the heaviness of your bones and how tired you feel.

You’ve been running for a long time. You’re home now. 

Kiyoomi returns with a towel and a change of clothes, taking the phone from you again. He frowns when he scrolls through your food picks, letting out a small sigh.

“You still have the palate of a five year old.”

“You told me to pick anything I like? Just because you were fed caviar and gold dust as a baby… You pick something then.”

“I didn’t say I won’t order it, no? Go take a bath meanwhile. You had a long day.” 

A long day. If it was only that.

But you don’t say anything, just wordlessly take the stuff from Kiyoomi’s hands and let him usher you to the bathroom. He pats the counter for you to sit on while he runs you a bath, pouring some bathing essence that causes a mild explosion of bubbles (same as you liked it back then). The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up when he checks the water temperature before turning back to you. He walks over till he’s standing between your legs, his hands coming down to rest on the sides of your thigh.

In the confined space of the bathroom, he seems even taller, wider. Nothing left from his baby cheeks and soft features. There was a time when you could see eye to eye, but now he’s towering over you with ease. Your hands find their way to his hips, subconsciously making him inch closer. 

“You don’t have to do all of that for me, you know,” you mumble as you glance up at him. 

“I want to. So please, let me,” he replies quietly. His face is so close, you could count his lashes if they weren’t endless. Endless as his adoration for you–still, after all this time. You briefly wonder if you could love each other like you did back then. Or even more. Your heart is drumming, a nostalgic melody you haven’t listened to in a while but one that’s engraved into your being.

It would be so easy, loving him. Like breathing. 

Kiyoomi pulls you into a tight hug, his face buried in the crook of your neck. Your arms around him cling tight, as if part of you is afraid that he is just a fleeting illusion, crumbling the moment you let go. It seems like you share the same fear. He shakes his head when your grip loosens slightly. 

“Not yet,” he mumbles, his lips brushing over the skin of your neck when he does. “Don’t let go yet.”

Your fingers are tangled in his curls, keeping him close, your bodies pressed against each other. Hearts beating in unison. You silently thank the sun and the moon for bringing you back home into his arms. Only when his neck starts to hurt from the way he’s hunched over you, he reluctantly peels himself away from you, patting your side. “C’mon now. Your bath will get cold.”

He holds out a hand to help you down from the counter, slender fingers wrapping around yours. 

“But I wanna keep talking to you,” you pout, earning a small eye roll from him, but the faint smile on his lips is betraying the gesture.

“Then leave the door a crack open. I’ll talk to you, doll,” he replies and flicks your forehead. Before he leaves the bathroom he turns around again, as if there was something else on the tip of his tongue, but he decides to swallow it. For now.

Immersed in the bubble bath, you tell Kiyoomi everything that happened over the span of the past decade. From your life overseas and how lonely it had been, to the missing letters and how you tried finding him on social media when you were older, how much you loved sewing and making music and how it burned you out doing these things for a living. You pour your heart out. Somehow it’s easier when you’re not looking at him, when you can’t see your own sad reflection in his dark eyes.

You can hear him moving around on the outside, not peeking, but always near enough to give you short answers, ask questions or to simply hear him laugh through the small crack you left open. It is strange. Life is strange. One night you’re selling your bass to have something to eat for the rest of the month, then a heartbeat later you’re sitting in your puppy love’s bathtub while he orders you fries and waffles. 

That night, you fall in love again.

Or maybe you never fell out of it. But it’s there, tangible, glowing. You're tucked under a thick blanket, a photo album in your lap, and Kiyoomi is hand feeding you nuggets while you look over the slightly faded photos from when you were kids, some you have long forgotten about. 

The one where you lost your first baby teeth, grinning from ear to ear to show off your tooth gap. You cried horribly that day and to comfort you, Kiyoomi bought you a small plushie from his pocket money. It still sits next to your pillow when you fall asleep every night.

The one where you wore your middle school uniforms for the first time, not knowing you would be torn apart a year later and never got to graduate together. It’s also when Kiyoomi had another growth spurt and you realized you really, really liked this boy.

The one where you played dress up in your mother’s wardrobe, her wedding dress way too big on you, the veil awry on top of your hair, but Kiyoomi looking at you like you’re magic. It was all play pretend, but maybe in another life he really became your husband if life hadn’t torn you apart.

“I really missed you,” you sigh quietly, your head resting against his shoulder as you shuffle through the photos. The nostalgia is leaving a bittersweet taste in your mouth, the what if’s getting harder to swallow. It’s like the words are clawing in your throat, begging to be let out. Kiyoomi wraps his arm closer around you, pressing a soft kiss on top of your head. 

“Missed you too. More than anything.”

It seems like everything leads you back to him. In his arms, his home, his heart. You have a feeling that maybe this could be the beginning of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.

a/n: i rewrote this chapter SO many times to a point where i wanted to rip my hair and my eyes out so here we are. omi loving demon and me are shaking hands rn, WE MADE IT. thank you so much for reading and loving omi as much as i do. this chapter is for YOU 🌷 ps: meian's partner mentioned is y/n from dodger's oh captain, my captain

✰ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

@wyrcan @layskettlecookedchips @chaotic-neutral-ig @dreamgardenficrecs @mmqqik

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taglist open! fill out this form to be added (or removed, no hard feelings ♡)! minors DNI!

[kabr0ztrousers]

Can I get some dubcon ball sucking with a fem reader and a large monster? For the monster I'll let you choose BUT it has to be one you haven't written about yet.

Kabr0z Writes episode 74: Loxodon Warhammer

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: fellatio; dubcon; size difference; alcohol use; intox; anal sex

A/N: Writer's block has been absolutely kicking my ass today, so please enjoy the easiest thing close to the top of the requests queue :D I'm just happy I thought of a loxodon as a potential creature that meets both requirements!

#####################################

Fun fact: elephants have prehensile penises. You discovered this the fun way.

It started as all good nights do: in a smoky nightclub, populated by all sorts of human variants. They wouldn't normally let a baseliner like yourself in, but you knew the bouncer so as long as you didn't get weird with any of the patrons you'd be allowed. Too many issues with so-called monsterfuckers being pushy and putting people off. Just because someone has fur, a wolf head, and hardware to match, doesn't mean they're always down to fuck. So, places like this started up for variants to meet and spend their money on overpriced lager and cocktails. You weren't the only baseliner in the place, sure, but you wouldn't get in without someone vouching for you, be that a guest or a member of staff.

Now, you weren't allowed to hit on anyone, but that didn't mean you weren't allowed to be hit on. Plenty of variants start a night looking to avoid baseliners, but get enough drinks in anyone and they'll start looking to get lucky. As you stood at the bar, short skirt strategically rumpled at the back to give a good view of your pastel-pink thong as it separated your asscheeks, that's precisely what you were counting on.

You'd expected a lupine to make a move on you, maybe an equine, maybe even a felinid though they tend not to frequent places like this. What you hadn't expected was half a tonne of man in a tailored suit and the head of an elephant to step up behind you. Loxodons tend not to be party people, and it's not hard to see why. You're not small, about 5'8 and about 80kg, but this man dwarfed you in every respect. He must have been at least 8 or 9 foot, and was so broad two of you could stand abreast and still hide behind his immense bulk.

He offered you a drink, you accepted. Then another, and another. You got to talking. He was a postdoc from a few cities over, in your neck of the woods for a conference. It seems like it went well enough, he sure wasn't holding back on the drinks. Every fruity cocktail he bought you, he'd get two or three pints of beer, swigging them back with gusto. He was apparently a civil engineer with a speciality in bridge design, he'd been teaching classes for a few years including supervising a PhD student. He'd also been single for several years.

It finally got to kicking-out time: the early hours of the morning, after the band had packed up and left, long past the last train that would get you home safe, clinging to the sleeve of the massive elephant-man steering you towards his hotel. You remember him swiping his keycard to get in, then again in the lift to bring you both up to his room. The double bed was made, the sheets smelling of detergent as you fell onto it. He didn't bother moving your skirt, sliding the thong down your legs and past the six-inch heels on your feet. His trunk brushed your pussy, already wet with drunken anticipation. Your blouse was next, lifting over your spinning head, then your bra, deftly unfastened with one surprisingly nimble hand before being cast aside.

You lay there, barely able to move in your stupor. Feeling the soft sheets on your bare skin as he undressed himself. Two strong hands pulled your face up into his crotch. The musky skin of his ballsack smothered you. Every breath in bore the warm smell of his sweat. You opened your mouth, tasting him as he held you to him. You tried to pull away from him, but he wasn't done. You couldn't get a proper breath, every attempt filling your mouth and nose with the pliant skin pressed against you. Your hands slapped against his thigh. He pulled you away from him as you gasped for air. It was then you noticed it hanging above you, swaying slightly as it did. Your mouth hung open as he held you, transfixed by the huge, thick cock above you.

It curved down, the tip brushing your lips. You opened a little wider, allowing it to press between your lips, stretching your jaw open as he repositioned you. He was barely in you, but already at the back of your mouth, the flare at your tonsils. Your gags only spurred him on, massaging his tip with your mouth. Your eyes watered and he started grunting as precum leaked out, filling your mouth as his balls churned.

The cock popped out of your mouth, moving with a will of its own as it slathered precum and spit over your face, mingling with your tears and streaking your eyeliner down your face. He turned you around, bending you over the bed. One hand spread your asscheeks as his member pressed up against it, the end flexing against the tight hole as he applied his weight behind it, working himself in to you. You cried out into the sheets as he stretched your inexperienced asshole, the girth of it feeling as though he may tear you open. His hands were on your hips, shoving his immense length into you, pushing this way and that. Your hand was on your clit, numbly rubbing yourself, pushing through the pain in pursuit of your release. The sound of your fingers slopping over your wet cunt spurred him on, pushing harder as he picked up speed.

Your cries turned to moans as you gradually became accustomed to the aggressive fucking the loxodon was subjecting you to. You could feel your toes starting to curl as your ass rose up to meet him, even as he was already over a foot inside you. Your body shook around him, your breath catching and heart pounding as your moans turned back to screams of release.

The elephant behind you didn't last long with you crying and clenching. He roared as he rammed another six inches into you, making you cry out in surprise and pain. Cum started to flow from him, and didn't stop. Spurt after spurt, each one pumping two or three ounces of hot, sticky seed into your ass. You could feel it sloshing around, causing you to swell and bloat as over three litres of fluid was shot into you. You thought you could taste it, but maybe that's just your imagination.

He lifted you into his great arms before lying back onto the bed. He was soft, and warm, like a huge waterbed. His cock stayed in you for hours, shrinking so slowly after he fucked the energy out of you. You dozed off on top of him.

You woke without him in the morning, with an aching ass and a note on the pillow next to you. He had an early train, but left his phone number.

Just in case.

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Well, this one took me all day, so the promised Sunday Spectacular ain't happening tonight. Maybe I'll start something tonight and finish it tomorrow, maybe not.

I'll catch up, don't worry

By the way, this is what a Loxodon looks like

[placeholder-mcd]

(Obligatory "I sound like I'm speaking objectively from authority but this is just my opinion and it's okay for you to like media I dislike for whatever reasons you may have")

Okay so like. while "the minecraft move trailer is so bad that it makes minecraft story mode look good in comparison" is both true and funny, can we please not start pretending that story mode is a well-crafted piece of media. as someone who has played through it multiple times (first when it originally came out and I was 12 and thought it was awesome, then later as an interactive Netflix experience with friends for so-bad-it's-good reasons) I feel pretty qualified to say it blows

Like, yes. There are so many things that MCSM got right that the movie apparently got wrong. But, like, they're all extremely common-sense things to get right -- like having the whole thing be animated, and maintaining a visual style that feels consistent with minecraft, and spending time with individual aspects of the minecraft experience that have their own communities (like redstone contraptions). that sense seems a little less common now that the movie trailer exists, but still, these are all bare minimum expectations of a piece of narrative-driven media set in Minecraft.

MCSM still completely fails, however, to have any compelling characters (RIP Reuben you were just as annoying as everyone else) or non-grating dialogue. The universe they depict isn't even well thought out! Like, okay, example:

Right off the bat, they make a big decision about how they're going to handle MCSM: they are not telling a story about people playing Minecraft the video game, but are instead depicting a universe where Minecraft is inhabited by a civilization of NPCs that have identical abilities to a player (aside from like, pausing the game or changing settings or what have you). This, in itself, is not a bad decision, but it puts the writers in a position where they need to conceptualize what is effectively a Minecraft AU. You're not playing survival mode or creative mode, you're playing Story mode. In this AU, humans exist in the minecraft world and have for a long time (centuries, at least?), they've built cities, they have language, etc. Imagine you're Jesse. Imagine you've grown up inside of Minecraft. Everyone is playing on hardcore, there is no respawning, and you live in a world filled with strange and dangerous creatures that seem hell-bent on killing you. Why the Fuck does anyone go out at night. Why isn't literally everyone combat-trained. Why is Jesse acting like he's never seen a Creeper before. Why is Petra the only member of the main party who knows how to craft a pickaxe.

At the build competition, the party is surprised that the reigning building team has a beacon. But nobody takes a second to actually investigate what that means. Did their team intentionally spawn and defeat a Wither? Doesn't that make them more badass and legendary than the order of the stone? Is there a black market for nether stars? (I think Petra is probably the one who gave them the beacon since she also trades Ivan a Wither skull. But like. Why isn't literally anyone else just going and doing what Petra does. Why aren't they impressed)

Ivan having access to a Command Block is also insane. Like, it has potential to be an extremely cool choice -- did Ivan find a way to break the fourth wall? Did he find an exploit in Minecrafts code that allowed him to obtain this? The command block has the power to just generate resources out of thin air. Ivan could actually use it to become a god and give himself creative mode. But okay, we can assume that the command block is just... Different, in the AU. Fine. It's a computing center / power core for the Wither Storm. Sure

But, like. I, even as an 11 year old, knew everything there was to know about minecraft when I played story mode (and, unlike the Movie, MCSM was actually attempting to appeal to the existing fanbase), so watching these characters who have lived for DECADES within the Minecraft universe just. Be helpless and completely clueless as to how the universe works? It makes me hate like all of them. I don't care about Jesse or Gabriel and if I actually had the freedom to perform the basic actions I could perform in Minecraft -- mining, building, and crafting -- I could use my game knowledge to pretty swiftly end the entire conflict at like any point in the story. And I'm not very good at video games. But I would expect a character who's been LIVING IN THE MINECRAFT WORLD TO BE ABLE TO DO THAT. BECAUSE THEY'D BE BETTER AT MINECRAFT THAN ANY OF US.

The whole thing is a contrived and buggy mess that feels like it was written by a Hollywood CEO who watched someone play the game for 30 minutes, looked up some basic information like how to beat the game and whether there's any in-game lore, and then riffed on that until a script outline was finished. The programmers, visual artists, and composers clearly did a ton of work to make MCSM feel like minecraft. And they did a good job -- clearly, a much better job than the Movie is going to do. But that doesn't change the fact that the Story -- the focal element advertised in the title -- completely misses the fucking mark and centers around a group of characters who are largely incompetent and stupid in an unfunny and uninteresting way. MCSM was a shitty cashgrab by telltale games and I am not apologizing to it.

[sunburnacoustic]

Muse - Q Awards 2007

Some shitty quality but fascinating pics of Muse with other musical stars of the 00s at the 2007 Q Awards, where Muse were seen talking to Shirley Bassey, Nicky Wire (Manic Street Preachers), Ricky Wilson (Kaiser Chiefs), Ian Brown (Stone Roses), the singer Mika (who apparently really likes Muse!) and Kate Nash.

And Muse themselves, triumphant winners of the Best Live Act award at 2007 Q's, beating Arcade Fire, The Killers, Arctic Monkeys and Kasabian.

Q Magazine did feature their awards in the Nov 2007 edition of Q, so I can sneak in a picture from there too (thanks Musewiki <3)

Here's what Muse had to say about it all (Q interview)

Rate your day on a scale of 1 to 10. Dominic Howard (drums): I'd say pushing eight. When we woke up hung over in Serbia this morning, it was about minus 5. But getting back to London pushed it up a few points and then winning this award pushed it up further again. By the time we get to the party later we'll hopefully have pushed it to 11.

This is the 3rd time you've picked up the Best Live Act Award. Not getting bored of it yet, are you? Matthew Bellamy (vocals/guitar): No, it's nice that we've bagged this again. We're not getting bored of playing live and we're not bored of people liking our performances either.

Your plane from Belgrade landed about an hour ago. you didn't get a nice early night in preparation for today, then?

MB: Not quite. Last night Belgrade was Bel-degrade. It got quite dark. I wasn't involved, but it included a transsexual called Pete. And a dildo. Pete was sat on your knee for quite a while Dom, wasn't that right? DH: (Solemnly) No.

Does visiting new cities give you more licence to misbehave? MB: Yeah, a bit. We've been lucky this year in that we've been able to go to new places - Eastern Europe, Asia, Mexico. Sometimes on tour you just cocoon yourself in your hotel room and keep your head down until gig time. being somewhere new puts you in the mood to get out more and meet new people, just to find new experiences.

So what's the oddest experience on tour this year? DH: Sorry, I can't get the transsexual out of my head now. Indonesia was interesting, mainly because I could've got killed. We'd taken a few silly things and we decided to check out some local bars in a really rough part of town. The houses were all corrugated iron and we had chickens running over the bonnet of the car, people banging on our windows. One of the guys got out of our car and he got shouted at, so we got out of there as fast as possible. But we were told later that we were lucky we didn't get shot, then robbed.

MB: Our tour manager got robbed by three ladyboys in a lift there, too.

Have you had any celebrity fans coming to the shows?

Christopher Wolstenholme (bass): In LA the kid for The Sixth Sense (Hayley Joe Osment) came to see us. I think he crashed his car on the way home.

MB: Paris Hilton to the LA show, too. But she left during Knights of Cydonia, which is the first song on the set. If we're offending Paris Hilton we must be doing something right.

The UK people will see your two Wembley Stadium shows in the summer as the pinnacle of the Muse live experience. How were those shows for you?

MB: I think we did our best. It's an amazing venue and the crowds made those shows. Big shows like that aren't just about the band, its about the whole experience and watching the crowd is part of the fun. It definitely gave us a taste for more of those big shows.

Any outrageous stage props that got vetoed by the council? Ten-foot-high robots and the like?

MB: Well, we wanted to have helicopters doing a balloon drop and circling above us with searchlights spotlighting the crowd, but apparently you're not allowed to have helicopters fly over big crowds in case they fall out of the sky and start mincing up. Which is fair enough, I suppose.

DH: We wanted to arrive by Zeppelins and drop down to the stage, but we weren't allowed to do that either...

MB: We're gonna make that happen next time. You can get these business Zeppelins now, like a private jet, so we could fly from gig to gig, descend for the gig and then get lifted back into the Zeppelin lounge.

So how do you go about topping Wembley? MB: We'll probably start from scratch again and build things back up with smaller gigs. DH: We'd like to do multiple nights in smaller venues. We might have more people onstage.

[Q mishears] Q: Small people onstage? DH: Yeah, more small people. Like Spinal Tap. No, it'd just be good to have the time to evolve the whole musical side of the show.

Is this tour ever going to end? MB: Technically, it's over in December. But there are a few more things that we've been offered for next year, so who knows?

The rumour is that you're going to headline Glastonbury again next year... MB: Ooh, that's a strong question! Very strong. Well, Glastonbury is a festival that's very close to our hearts. And it'll be amazing to play it again...sometime. But next year's plans have yet to be settled upon.

So we'll take that as a "yes" then? MB: No, don't take it as anything. DH: It's a maybe. CW: It's a flat "no".

Back to today: is there anyone here you really want to meet? MB: I'd love to say hello to Paul McCartney. But so would everyone here, I bet. We'll not be allowed near him.

Are you pretty sociable when you're at parties without musicians? MB: It's like when two dogs meet in the park: they eye each other up for a bit, then have a sniff around each other. So we'll see who's smelling OK later. Who's that? (Points at Damon Albarn posing for Q's photographer) Damon Albarn? (Unimpressed) Oh...

What do you want for pudding? DH: What's the obsession with pudding here? Someone else just asked us that. CW: We'll say something classic. Bread-and-butter pudding. Can't go wrong there.

So what are you doing next? MB: I have a meeting with out lawyers. Very rock'n'roll. But we'll be out at the party later. These days if we're in London it usually means we have to work, so one of the ideas in coming to this was to have a big night out.

Pics - microcuts.net archives | article - MuseWiki.

[maeevel]

U know. Something that always stuck in my mind is how in PJO halfbloods of camp halfblood are a little bit closer to the Olympians than the halfblood's of camp Jupiter.

Correct me if I'm wrong but I remember in the first book how it was said that the Camp Halfblood kids went on a field trip to Olympus and that's how the Master bolt was stolen in the first place and then in the last PJO book they have a party there too.

I can't imagine something like that happening for the kids of Camp Jupiter. I wonder why that is. Is it because they live longer? And have families and cities? Is it because the God's Roman counterparts are stricter and more militant than their more laid back Greek counterparts?

I wonder how the Roman demigods would feel to hear that? That they Greek demigods have not only gone to Olympus multiple times but have partied there too. Met their parents atleast once in their lifetimes.

I mean. Even ARES talked to Clarise. Gave her a pat on the back and congratulated her on earning his blessing. That happened. Can Roman demigods sah the same?

You're so right. The Greek demigods definitely have stronger ties to the gods and that's really apparent when compared with the Roman demigods. Camp Jupiter would be BAFFLED to know that the Greeks are allowed to go up to Olympus on a field trip. Or even that Dionysus himself is the camp director.

It's probably a combination of the Roman gods being stricter and because there's a whole Roman city and legacies of demigods running around. Also just the fact that Hermes was with May and baby Luke when May wanted to see the Oracle speaks volumes, because I can't imagine any Roman god being there at Camp Jupiter with their lover and the baby they had together, even for such a matter as the Oracle. Or that Percy got to hug his father.

These would be such wild concepts for the Romans 😭😭

[xoxo-suki]

profoundly yours. (myg)

Pairing: Yoongi x female!reader Rating: 21+ Genre: Fluff Word-Count: 1.8k Warning: Kissing

Disclaimer: Please note that the following story is entirely fictional. While some of the characters may have physical traits or names similar to those of celebrities, the connection ends there. I do not have any personal connection to these celebrities, and I do not claim to know their personalities, sexual orientations, or beliefs.

Copyright: I do not allow my work to be used or adapted in any way without my permission.

Shoutout to @saradika-graphics for the pretty divider.

As street lights dance in front of your eyes, and the street side shrubbery becomes hazy, you realize you have had considerable soju tonight. You don't drink, not usually, and definitely not this much. Song's party is already a tremendous success, with almost everyone invited showing up. Many are dancing, a few are chatting, but practically all are blissfully drunk when you decide to come out for fresh air.

You like how the cold air feels on your warm skin. Dancing and drinking have caused your otherwise naturally cool skin to heat up. To a passerby, you must look ridiculous, you think to yourself as you strut on the slippery sidewalk in your high heels on a snowy night.

You must have been walking a while as your feet start complaining from cramming into those torture devices for too long. A park bench comes into view, and you decide to halt. Hissing as your bare thighs come in contact with the cold, wet plank of wood, you settle down on it. Your mini sequined dress betrays you by riding up, barely covering your thighs halfway through.

You suddenly realize you are stranded in a strange part of the city without a phone or a wallet tonight. Sober, you would've panicked hard. Drunk, not so much.

Eyes closed, you mentally review the events that have wreaked havoc on your life in the past two days. You wonder why you ever thought soju would solve anything. However, it feels liberating to not carry the burden of your adulthood responsibilities tonight. It feels good to let go, if only for one night. You sigh as you shiver.

"Are you planning on dying of hypothermia tonight?" A voice booms beside you.

"Yoongi. What are you doing here?" You ask the fully covered man.

"Apparently, I'm babysitting." He retorts as he walks around the bench to stop before you.

"I'm fine; you didn't have to come." You say softly, unaware of your own slur as you speak.

"Of course you are." He rolls his eyes and extends his hand for you to hold onto. "Let's go." He says simply.

You stand up, or at least attempt to, losing your balance several times. He grips you firmly, preventing you from falling down. You have never not trusted Yoongi. He's always been in your corner, and he's always been your comfort.

He unbuttons his jacket, removing it gently as he shakes his head at you. He leans over and wraps it around your shivering form, helping you insert your arms into the sleeves one at a time. He pulls his beanie and places it on your head as he looks into your uncomprehending eyes, pulling it down to cover your ears. Your eyes dart to his long black hair, disheveled from the action. You concentrate on his reddened ears and nose, rouged from the cold, while his fingers dexterously tuck stray hair strands from your face into the beanie. You think he looks warm, even if he's only wearing a brown shirt.

"Thank you." You say as you interlock your icy fingers with his and let his warmth wash over you. He simply starts walking, leading you, holding you steady.

After a couple minutes of silent ambling, you realize you're enveloped in his smell. His beanie feels surprisingly warm even though it's thin. The jacket is scruffy but comfortable; you think it's just like Yoongi. It feels as if he has you pulled into a perpetual hug.

You sneak a whiff of the jacket collar to memorize his scent.

"I saw that, you weirdo." He snickers beside you.

"What!? You saw nothing." You deny futilely as a tiny chuckle escapes you as well.

"How did you find me?" You ask after a few moments.

"I never lost you, kid," Yoongi says. Your heart squeezes at that.

"I saw you going out in a hurry without a jacket. I'm sorry I came after you, followed you, denying you your privacy. I was worried." He sighs.

"Why didn't you stop me sooner?" You ask, surprised at the questions coming from your intoxicated self.

"Well, you clearly wanted to be alone. So, I let you be. I only came to the bench because it seemed like you were about to fall asleep at any moment." He chortles.

"Mhmm." You say, nodding your head, holding his forearm with both hands now. He looks down at you and smiles at your action, unbeknownst to you.

"Where are we going?" You ask, leaning your head against his shoulder as you walk alongside parked cars.

"I'm taking you home, kid." He says as he leads you toward his car. He unlocks the car doors with his remote key, and you settle in the passenger seat as Yoongi enters the driver seat.

"Belt." He reminds you.

"Mhmm." You respond, strapping the belt around you and fumbling briefly with the belt lock.

The car ride is eventless. It is noiseless, warm, and smooth. As you near your apartment building, you realize that your intoxication is wearing off much quicker than you thought it would.

"Are you okay?" He finally asks as you head towards the apartment.

"Things are not, but I am." You respond with increasing clarity.

He nods. He doesn't intrude into the details of your private life. If you wanted to tell him, you would. He takes your purse and looks for your keys to open the door to your apartment.

Upon entering, you flop onto your ottoman as he chuckles at you again, removing his shoes.

He suddenly bends down and takes your right leg in his hand. He loosens the strap of your heel tightly wrapped around your calf, freeing your foot from the heel. He proceeds to do the same with your other foot. His warm fingers feel exquisite on your skin.

You touch his cheek and slide your fingers toward his chin, lifting it to make him look at you. Neither of you say anything, nor do you do anything. Both of you are frozen in a moment that seems unending. You are not sure if it's the alcohol or the cold, but you feel like you're both floating in a sea of unsaid emotions. You both know it's not today that anything will get said.

He grabs your free hand in his and pulls you upright. He gingerly removes his beanie from your head and unbuttons his jacket on you. Your proximity to each other burns a new fire inside you, far better than the warmth generated by the dancing, drinking, or even his jacket. He turns you around slowly as he slides it off of you. You feel his warmth and his smell leaving you. You feel cold and alone once again. As if Yoongi reads your mind, he hugs you from behind. His arms snake across your waist, holding you tight against his chest. He lays his head on your shoulder, enveloping you again in warmth and his scent.

"You worried me to death today, kid." He hums in your ear. "I did?" You turn your head, your face inches away from his.

He nods, letting his eyes roam all over your face.

"You look beautiful tonight. Did you know that?" He asks, almost in a whisper.

You shake your head at the first decent compliment of the night.

"You do. But when other guys also notice it and look at you wrong, I worry. When you wander off in the streets in the middle of the night in practically nothing, without your phone, I worry. When something is not okay in your life, and you clearly are going through a hard time, I worry." He tells you as you let your arms rub against his.

You turn around to look into his eyes. It feels like your heart could explode. It feels like your body will finally melt into a puddle in your hallway.

He hooks one arm around your waist and holds your cheek in his hand, with his thumb rubbing your cheek lightly.

You lift your fingers and touch his lips, tracing their shape. You are overwhelmed with the flood of emotions coursing through you.

"Come, let's get you to bed." He says, uncoupling, leading you into your bedroom, holding your hand. You don't move. He looks back at you, a slight frown on his forehead as you walk toward him, drawing courage from within with every step you take. You raise your toes, close your eyes, and kiss his lips softly before you retract to look at him. He wordlessly gazes at you for what seems like an eternity. He holds your waist once again, walks you back, and cages you against the wall.

His eyes bore into you, telling you things you never knew you needed to hear. He frees one arm from your waist and brushes loose hair away from your face. He continues to brush his fingers through your hair and pushes all your hair towards one side, exposing your neck to him. He traces his finger from your ear, over your neck, along your collarbone, and looks at you again. He wordlessly makes sure you're okay with where this is going, with what he's doing.

He places a kiss on your neck. A shiver travels to your bone as you close your eyes and let out a hiss. He kisses behind your ear and on your collarbone.

You never expected to feel this way with Yoongi. Yoongi has been yours since the day he met you, but he was never yours in a way like he is about to be.

He leans in and crashes his lips onto yours, with more urgency this time. It feels as if fireworks are bursting around you; it feels euphoric. Kissing him back seems like an eventuality that was waiting to happen forever. Your kiss feels like you were supposed to enmesh with each other, and just like this. It feels meant to be.

He detaches his lips from yours to look at you for the hundredth time tonight.

"Yoongi." You whisper.

"I know, kid. I know." He whispers back as your foreheads touch and shaky breaths escape your mouths.

"I'm scared."

"Me too."

Both of you separate from each other slowly, almost unwillingly. You know you can't take this any further. Your friendship is too sacred. You cannot let your impulses win and hurt this relationship.

You decide to table your feelings for another day. You will take a shower and collapse into your bed. You will talk to Yoongi tomorrow.

Yoongi seems to think the same as he heads out the apartment door.

"Kid, call me if you need me."

"Always."

You exchange a look filled with unsaid words before the apartment door closes behind him.

Everything will be okay, you tell yourself.

[fkinkindagauche]

Please Please Please

This is a prompt fill for @harringrovewinterbingo, A3 - "red in the snow".

Rating: Explicit | WC: 3,350 | CW: Consensual non-consent play, homoerotic punching, regular punching | Tags: Mean Girl Steve Harrington, Pop Star Steve Harrington, AU - No Upside Down, AU - Modern Setting, Top Billy Hargrove, Bottom Steve Harrington, The Inherent Homoeroticism of Throwing Some Punches, Rough Sex, Verbal Degradation, Feminization, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Romantic Face Punching, Play Fighting, Also Real Fighting, Billy Hargrove Being an Asshole

Summary: Billy once again embarrasses Steve at a party, but afterward reminds Steve why he keeps letting this happen.

Notes: Since the version of "Please Please Please" with Dolly Parton came out I have once again been plagued by Harringrove brainworms for the song. This is what happened.

Many thanks to @dame-zoom-a-lot for continuing to be the world's most fantastic beta, and messy Harringrove cheerleader.

Would also like to shout out @runraerun's put up your dukes and @stervrucht's There's a gap where we meet as delightful works of homoerotic punching which were definitely an inspiration.

You can also read on AO3.

I heard that you're an actor, so act like a stand-up guy Whatever devil's inside you, don't let him out tonight I tell them it's just your culture and everyone rolls their eyes Yeah, I know

All I'm asking, baby

Please, please, please don't prove I'm right And please, please, please Don't bring me to tears when I just did my makeup so nice Heartbreak is one thing, my ego's another I beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker, oh Please, please, please

-"Please Please Please", Sabrina Carpenter

"Carol!" Steve cried, spotting the red-head across the room and hurrying over to her. He'd made the mistake of agreeing to come to a party in Manhattan with Billy. It was rare for them to both be in the same city these days, so Steve had allowed himself to be convinced. Now, he was trying his best to pretend he was here on his own. Billy was… somewhere, no doubt making a spectacle of himself.

Steve needed to stop getting so cock-drunk on Billy that he agreed to be seen in public with him. His manager was going to kill him if this resulted in another tabloid scandal. He needed to mingle with other people, stay away from Billy as much as possible. Anyone would do, really. Even D-list actor Carol Perkins, who he remembered from high school.

"Steve!" Carol chirped in reply, gracing him with her dazzlingly fake smile.

"How have you been?" Steve asked, grinning to show off his perfect teeth. "I haven't seen you since…" he racked his brains. Carol was far too low on the totem pole to warrant Steve cultivating a continued relationship with her, so he only ever saw her in passing.

"Halloween," she supplied. "Debra's house party."

"Right, right!" Steve exclaimed. He had no memory of Debra's house party. "How's the acting going?" She'd moved to LA to act, but Steve had never seen her in anything worth watching.

"Some really great things in the works," she cooed. "Can't talk about any of them yet, but you'll be seeing me on the big screen soon." Steve had to use all of his willpower to stop a disbelieving snort from escaping his mouth.

"Oh, that's great," he replied. "Congrats."

Apparently he wasn't very convincing. Her eyes narrowed. "I think you might finally get a Grammy nomination this year," Carol said, leaning toward him with a suspiciously sweet look on her face. She continued with a malicious grin, "Even if it is just a pity nom."

Steve rolled his eyes. "I'm making enough money to not care about award nominations," he replied with a smirk. Unlike Carol's lackluster acting career, Steve's singing career had blown up over the past few years. He definitely wasn't making award-worthy music, but he was more than okay with that. His music was vapid, sexy, and highly lucrative. It didn't need to be anything more than that.

Carol glared at him, taking a sip of her wine. They heard a crash from one room over, and a loud, unfortunately familiar voice yelled, "You wanna say that to my fucking face?"

Carol grinned at Steve like the cat who'd just gotten the cream. "Oh, you're here with Billy Hargrove? That MMA fighter? I'd heard about your little… fling."

Steve sighed. They heard another crash, followed by the sound of breaking glass. A few seconds later, a man was thrown into the room, landing on the floor in front of Steve and Carol.

Billy stomped in after him, looking absolutely fucking delicious in his tight jeans and mostly open button-down shirt.

"I don't throw fights, you fuck," Billy yelled at the man on the floor, then spat on him.

Billy looked up to see Steve standing in front of him. His expression instantly changed from menacing grimace to wide smile. "Steve, baby. I lost you. How you doing?"

The room had gone silent, and everyone was staring at Billy and Steve. Multiple people had their phones out, taking videos. Steve was screwed. His manager was gonna be so pissed.

Steve grabbed Billy's arm and dragged him to the rooftop garden. It was huge. Steve couldn't remember whose penthouse this even was, but they might be even more loaded than he was. Today, the garden was covered in snow, but in the summer it would be beautiful out here.

"Why we comin' out here? Got a hankering for something?" Billy pressed Steve up against the wall, leering.

Steve shoved him away. "No, Billy. You've gotta stop doing shit like that when we go out together. You're embarrassing me."

Billy snorted. "Apologies, princess. Wouldn't want to mar that precious pop star image."

"Then stop throwing people around at parties!" Steve hissed.

Billy pushed back into Steve's space, bracketing him against the wall with a hand on either side of his head. "You love it. Admit it. You get all horny watching me beat the shit out of people. That's fucked up, baby."

Steve's pulse accelerated. Fuck Billy for being right. Steve did love it. Loved watching the lethal way Billy's body moved in a fight, loved seeing his fists connect with other people's bodies, loved seeing their fists connect with Billy. Steve was fucked up.

Billy reached one of his hands down to palm over Steve's hard cock. "You little slut," Billy whispered with a grin. He captured Steve's lips in a rough kiss, teeth clacking together as Billy's tongue delved into Steve's mouth.

The door opened behind them. They both turned to see three angry-looking men walk out onto the garden.

"Hargrove," the biggest of them said. "You fucked up our boy, Petey."

Billy scoffed. "I barely did shit to Petey. He's just a fucking pussy."

The man who'd spoken rushed at Billy. Steve stepped away, giving them a wide berth as the man took his first swing. Billy ducked easily, coming back up almost too quick for Steve to even track, delivering a swift punch to the man's face.

There was a loud cracking noise as his nose broke. Blood sprayed out of his face, bright red in the snow.

"Fuck!" the man yelled, voice garbled. "My nose."

"Either of you shits wanna try me?" Billy asked the other two men, cracking his knuckles.

They rushed Billy at the same time, coming at him fast. Billy wasn't quick enough to completely dodge one of the men. He took part of a punch to the face, the fist grazing his cheekbone. He dodged the second man's punch, and came up with an underhand jab to his gut. The man doubled over, retching onto the snow.

The man who'd landed a punch came at Billy again, but Billy easily got in a right hook to the side of the man's head, taking him down.

He stood in the snow. His heaving breaths fogged the air around him. The three men were sprawled around him in the snow, staring at him with combined rage and terror.

"Anyone care to go again?" Billy asked, spreading his arms wide. None of them responded.

The whole display made Steve outrageously horny. Billy turned to him with a smirk, well aware of the effect he had on Steve.

Steve turned away, blushing, to see people pressed against the large windows, filming everything. He was so fucked. No way his manager wasn't going to hear all about this.

Steve grabbed Billy's arm and tugged him toward the door. "We're leaving," he announced, voice clipped.

Billy laughed maniacally. "Alright, baby, lead the way," he replied.

Steve smiled apologetically at all the people filming as he walked in the door. "Sorry about that, had a bit of an accident." He used his best crowd-pleasing voice.

"Nothin' accidental about it," Billy helpfully supplied from beside him. Steve couldn't resist glaring at him, even though it was going to look awful on camera. Billy was the worst influence.

Steve managed to get him out of the penthouse without further incident. They took the elevator to the parking garage and got into Billy's Camaro.

"Why do you always have to do that?" Steve asked as they made their way to the hotel Steve was staying at.

"Do what?" Billy demanded. A bruise was already starting to bloom on his left cheek. His knuckles were bloodied. The fucking gall of this man.

"Get into fights! Pull ridiculous shit every time you're out in public! Is it just for the press? Do you just have to have all eyes on you at all times?" Steve's voice went higher and higher as he rattled off his questions.

All Billy did was shrug. "Dunno. Just feels good, I guess."

"Just feels good?" Steve parroted back. "You punch people for a living, why are you so hellbent on also doing it in your free time?"

"I told you. Just. Feels. Good."

Talking to Billy was like talking to a fucking rock sometimes. Steve crossed his arms over his chest with a huff and sank back in his seat. Silence filled the car for a few minutes, then Billy put his hand over Steve's thigh.

"You seem to like it, too, princess," Billy pointed out.

Steve sighed. "I shouldn't. You're gonna drag my name into the mud."

"I know you like being dirty." Billy's hand slid higher, up Steve's thigh, to cup Steve's cock. "You'd let me fuck you in the mud. And you'd love it."

Steve squirmed. It was impossible for him to resist Billy. He was like horny kryptonite. He felt his cock filling out beneath Billy's hand as Billy lightly squeezed.

Billy pulled up to the valet at Steve's hotel. Steve knew he should tell Billy to beat it. There were bound to be paps around the hotel somewhere. But Steve needed to get fucked. Besides, people were going to be talking about the train wreck at the party, not about Steve bringing Billy back to his hotel room. Probably. Jesus, what a disaster of a night.

Billy didn't even ask Steve if he wanted him to come up. He just put the Camaro in park, got out, and threw the keys at the valet. Steve sighed, resigned to his fate, and walked into the hotel with Billy.

As soon as the door to his hotel room shut behind them, Billy pressed Steve against the door. He wrapped his hand around Steve's throat, just the way he knew Steve liked, and resumed the kiss that had been so rudely interrupted at the party.

Steve whined into Billy's mouth. He rubbed his cock against Billy's crotch, rutting so hard it started to chafe. The jeans were in the way. Their shirts were in the way. Everything was in the way. Steve grabbed handfuls of Billy's shirt and yanked him closer.

Billy pushed off of Steve after a few moments, stepping back a few paces and holding his arms out to his sides expectantly. "Well, baby. Punch me. I know you want to."

Steve swallowed. Billy had figured out pretty quickly how horny Steve got when punches were thrown. But they hadn't known how much more intense it would be when Steve was the one throwing the punches. Not until Billy decided one day that he was going to teach Steve how to throw a punch, and it had been followed by the best sex of their lives. Now they started almost every fuck with a punch.

It was so fucked up. Steve had no idea what had made him this way. All he knew was that punching Billy was better than any aphrodisiac money could buy.

Steve swung at him, hitting Billy across his jaw, opposite the bruise that was forming from the party. Billy's head moved with the punch, but he seemed otherwise unfazed.

Billy laughed as Steve shook his fist out, blood dripping from a newly split lip. "Hurt yourself, princess?" he sneered. Steve used both hands to shove Billy back onto the bed, climbing on top of him to straddle his hips.

He pressed himself down onto Billy, rubbing their cocks together. "Shut up," Steve said.

Billy growled and flipped them, pinning Steve down to the bed. "Make me," Billy taunted. "What do you say if you want me to stop?"

"Red," Steve breathed. Billy was gonna let him play tonight. Billy nodded. He tightened his grip on Steve's wrists and moved them above Steve's head on the bed.

Steve tried his best to wiggle out from under Billy, but Billy was holding him in place with his entire body. His thick thighs were crushing Steve's hips into the bed. Billy ground his chest into Steve's until Steve couldn't tell the difference between his thundering heartbeat and Billy's. Steve tried wiggling out again, and Billy just snorted into Steve's neck. Steve loved that feeling of being overpowered.

"Get off of me, you sick fuck!" Steve yelped, squirming harder.

"No," Billy replied. He rubbed his crotch against Steve's, drawing out a moan. "Such a little slut," Billy crooned. "You like this, you're the sick fuck."

Steve used a move Billy had taught him, wiggling his body just right to slip out from beneath Billy and knee him in the balls. He was a little suspicious Billy let it happen, but he'd take it.

Billy let go of Steve's wrists for a moment as he doubled over. Steve got all the way out from under him and threw a punch at his solar plexus. It went a little too far to the left, not having quite the effect Steve had intended, but it still punched an "oof" out of Billy. The strength of Steve's punches was improving.

"You little shit," Billy growled, grabbing Steve's wrist. He bent the arm behind Steve's back and grappled him back onto the bed so Steve was laying face down. Billy was straddling his thighs. He kept one hand on the arm twisted behind Steve's back, the other pressing Steve's head into the bed. His fingers were tangled in Steve's hair, ready to pull.

Steve tried to move underneath him, but it wasn't possible. Billy's hold was perfect. Steve was completely contained. He moaned and tried to rub his cock against the covers, but couldn't even managed that.

Billy bent to whisper in his ear, "Now I'm gonna do whatever I want with you. Got it princess?"

Steve whimpered. He could feel Billy's cock pressed against the backs of his thighs. He needed Billy to fuck him rough, turn him into a puddle of want. He was so fucking turned on.

Billy shifted up onto his knees, keeping one hand on Steve's pinned arm but removing the hand from his head. He used his free hand to reach beneath Steve's waist. Steve started to squirm, but Billy's hold on his arm made it impossible for him to move much. He managed a few feeble kicks as Billy undid his belt and pulled down Steve's jeans and boxers, all with just one hand. Kind of impressive, honestly.

The cold air hit Steve's exposed ass. Billy smacked each cheek, hard. Steve grunted at the sweet sting of pain and thrust into the mattress below him.

"Look at this pretty little ass," Billy cooed. He pressed a finger between the cheeks, stroking over Steve's rim. "Should I just fuck you dry? Make sure you really feel it?" Steve knew he wouldn't, but the idea of it, of being used so harshly, made Steve keen.

"No, fuck you!" Steve yelled, turning his head to the side. He tried to kick again. Billy sat back down on his thighs, trapping his legs. He grabbed a fistful Steve's hair and yanked his head up, giving it a shake.

"Well, it's not up to you, is it?" Billy said, shoving Steve's face back down into the mattress. "I can do whatever I want with your body, you little slut."

Steve moaned, feeling precum leaking out onto the sheet beneath him. Billy let go of his head and reached for the bottle of lube Steve, ever an optimist, had conveniently left on the bedside table. Steve heard the snick of the bottle opening. A few moments later, a cold, slick finger probed at his entrance.

Billy rubbed the lube around for a few moments before sinking his pointer finger in up to the first knuckle. Steve's body tensed briefly before relaxing enough for Billy to slide the finger in all the way.

"That goes in so easy, princess. Who else you let fuck you today?"

"N-no one, asshole," Steve shot back.

"Hmmm. Just that much of a slut, then. Open for me anytime I wanna use you."

"Fuck you," Steve spat.

Billy laughed. "That's not the way things are going tonight, baby." Billy slid a second finger into Steve's ass, directing the pads of his fingers down towards the bed to rub against Steve's prostate.

Steve groaned in pleasure, unable to keep the noise in. "You like that, don't you?" Billy taunted. "Like me using you. You know how fucked up that is?" He rubbed harder against Steve's prostate for a few moments, then started gently scissoring his fingers apart to open Steve further.

"Think your tight little cunt will even fit me?" Billy jeered.

Steve felt like all the breath got sucked out of him and went straight to his cock. That was the first time Billy had talked to him like that. Why did Steve like it so much? What the fuck.

"Guess we'll just have to try it and see," Billy said, pulling his fingers out. He somehow maintained his grip on the arm behind Steve's back as he pulled his own jeans down. Steve heard the jingle of his belt buckle, and then Billy was wiggling around above him and eventually he heard the thump of his jeans being thrown to the floor.

Steve was able to get one good kick in on one of Billy's legs before Billy was on him again.

"That wasn't very nice, Steve," Billy scolded. Steve felt Billy's cock press against his asshole, and then he was pushing in. He fucked into Steve fast, giving him no time to adjust. The stretch was just on the right side of painful, drawing a stuttering moan out of Steve.

"Guess I do fit," Billy murmured, voice breathy. He started to fuck into Steve at a brutal pace. After a few thrusts, he let go of Steve's arm, but pressed both hands into Steve's shoulder blades, pinning him in place as he fucked him hard.

"You like that, princess, don't you?"

Steve's only response was a guttural moan.

"Too cock-drunk for words, baby?" Billy taunted.

"F-fuck you," Steve said again, pushing the words out through panting breaths.

Billy laughed maniacally. He moved his hands to Steve's waist, pulling Steve up slightly off the bed so he could reach for his aching cock. Steve was too far gone at this point to take advantage of the change in position to fight Billy. He just wanted to keep getting fucked.

Billy continued to rail him as he wrapped a hand around Steve's cock and started to stroke. He shifted the angle of his hips slightly, stopping when he got a loud yelp out of Steve as he hit his prostate. He continued to fuck right into that spot, cock pounding into Steve's prostate with each thrust.

Billy leaned down. Steve shivered at the hot breath on his ear. "Gonna pump that pretty cunt so full of my cum," Billy whispered.

Steve exploded, coming all over the mattress with a guttural yowl. Billy kept fucking into him for a few more moments before burying himself all the way inside of Steve and coming with a grunt.

They both collapsed onto the bed. Billy rolled off of Steve and onto his back beside him. Steve turned his head to look over at him. He grinned.

"That scratch your itch, baby?" Billy asked.

"Yeah, Billy," Steve said, scooting over on the bed to drape himself across Billy's chest, tangling their legs together. "It did."

There was no way he'd be able to give this up. His manager was just gonna have to deal.

divider by @/saradika-graphics

[utilitycaster]

…so I decided to check out Polygon’s D20 coverage, and frankly I think you were entirely too kind to them. Good. GOD, some of that stuff read like they’ve never watched AP that *wasn’t* CR, D20 or the first season of TAZ. And have somehow made it thru the 2010s without encountering urban fantasy…

Anyway, to further nudge you towards your destiny of AP journalism (and with the understanding that you have a Real Job and a life outside TTRPGs and the internet); can you please expand on what you think D20 brings to the table?(pun unintended, but I stand by it) Because speaking as someone who has watched a handful of eps and enjoys the concepts, the praise PG were offering was damningly faint.

Hi! Thank you, and for what it's worth I don't think most of them have listened to the first season of TAZ either, given the way they talk about WBN as inventing the actual play longform podcast. I do want to note: I like writing longform stuff about actual play but I am adamantly not a journalist. I am not investigating or interviewing or reporting; I'm doing analysis and editorial. Amateur critic is the most I can claim to and that's a stretch (and even there I have a particular privilege in that I'm writing all this for free, anonymously, by choice, and don't need be be nice or maintain relationships with actual play performers within the space because I could burn every bridge and still make rent.)

Anyway. I think a major flaw of Polygon is that it's so focused on novelty and subversion that it forgets a well-worn concept, executed with skill, is actually great and for many people, preferable. Brennan, from everything I have heard him say and from how he actually runs games, has a deep respect for fantasy as a genre, and the stories he tells in D20 are ones he is clearly familiar with and loves. I also think to subvert things you must be a fan, and when D20 does successfully subvert or twist a genre, it's coming from a place of respect and understanding.

Anyway, just covering a few Intrepid Heroes seasons: I think Fantasy High (and I haven't gotten to the latest episode of Junior Year) is actually increasingly a brilliant deconstruction of D&D as a game by making the world aware that it's in a D&D game. What does it mean to be in a D&D party and be an adventurer and have that be a significant part of who you are? What does it mean to be a commoner in this world? What do you do when you're sort of a broke teen in generic suburbia but also you need the loot that an adventurer would theoretically get from dragon hoards? Why do you have to know what your life's calling will be when you're 14? One of my personal favorite things, as a lover of mechanics and TTRPGs as a system of storytelling and more generally as someone who believes that your medium of choice should be informing the story you tell, is when people engage with character roles and classes instead of treating them as just a set of cool things you can do, and Fantasy High very much pushes the players to do this. I also mentioned elsewhere that the downtime stress mechanics are a brilliant addition to one of the genuine gaps in D&D, namely, while downtime is a time for open RP, there's not a good way to handle things like stress or crafting or prioritizing well.

The Unsleeping City is one I like, honestly, just because I lived in New York for a few years and Brennan lived there far longer (as did much of the cast, though not all) and his love for it is apparent. I don't think it's groundbreaking; I just think it's really good. The characters are excellent and the story is fun. It's true that, for example, it allows you the satisfaction of making Amazon's and its attempted move into Long Island City the BBEG and smiting its ass instead of having to harangue your senators and councilpeople (as I did, and I wasn't even living in Queens) but really it's just a good story. It doesn't need to be more than that. It did not invent urban fantasy or the idea of a secret magical version of a real city or "most myths are real"; it's just a good story!

I think A Crown of Candy is also just a fun setting and, by making everyone food, emphasizes how petty and arbitrary the alliances in a Game of Thrones-esque milieu can be. It casts a scathing eye on religious interpretation as a tool for conquest without clumsily proclaiming the mere concept of religion is the problem. It has one of the best explorations of character death I've seen and Brennan's acting as Caramelinda remains a tour de force for him. Bringing the entire story of succession and war down to a final choice between two half-sisters remains a brilliant decision, the setting is supported by the mechanical limits Brennan imposed upon character creation, and it's overall beautifully done.

Even Neverafter, which I think have openly said didn't live up to its initial promise, had that promise with the fantastic handling of the TPK; I have a love for metanarrative and honestly my issue is that it was the wrong place to do metanarrative, but it was a bold choice to do in the unpredictable medium of actual play.

That's really only covering a fraction - I think some other standouts are Mentopolis, A Court of Fey and Flowers, Coffin Run, and Escape from the Bloodkeep, and while Shriek Week is just not a genre I'm personally super drawn to, I think the Mythic system is a great system for the story being told and Hicks does a great job running it.

Really what it comes down to is that D20 falls in between what a lot of shows are. It doesn't have the freedom but also the burden of a very long-running campaign (indeed, WBN exists because its performers, all of whom have featured in D20, wanted to be able to do longform actual play), nor is it quite as rushed as an all-miniseries or one-shot show. It has space to explore one or two things really well without having to carry a thousand different threads (and believe me, Brennan tries to put in as many as he can in that space - I actually wonder if the reason Fantasy High Junior Year feels a little more streamlined to me is that WBN was by that time in full swing). But it's not the first edited actual play, it mostly uses very widespread systems, the production values are high but not unheard of elsewhere (and I think that production values in AP beyond the basic 'can you hear and, if relevant, see things clearly and does the set look nice' are overrated though that's a personal preference), the cast is strong but not the first group of professionals or even comedians, and they didn't invent the concept of filming remotely or scrims or having an anticapitalist message.

My issue with the journalists, to reiterate that, is that they're not really doing much journalism, actually; and that their bias is horribly apparent. There's little analysis - just shallow reviews that show little understanding of actual play as a medium, fantasy as a genre, or TTRPGs as a system. And while being entirely free of bias is unavoidable - we are people, and we will bring our own interpretations and experiences in, and there are people who will love D20 and dislike Critical Role without doing so in bad faith - the fact that several of the journalists have openly crowed and preened about their special access to the D20 cast really makes it apparent that they like D20 because Dropout gives them early access and says nice things about them. And it's a feedback loop; Critical Role is going to keep saying "well, you constantly shit on us, so no, you don't get early access" and they'll keep writing bad reviews because they don't get early access.

But to return to the point, D20 is legitimately great and yeah the bias in my mind is only hurting them because, speaking only for myself, if there's two things I like and people heap fawning and inaccurate praise on one and nitpick the other? I'm going to start looking into that praise and find more flaws, and I'm going to start defending the nitpicked one. I really love Fantasy High Junior Year but the Polygon article is so bad I have to remind myself that it's just because the person who wrote it is an idiot. I probably would have gone into Kollok much more neutrally if people didn't act like it was the fucking invention of television. Do give D20 a try if you can! Don't read the articles.

[donnerpartyofone]

Seeing certain insanities in the news and thinking about many years ago when many of my friends were not necessarily that nice to women or even to each other--not in the kind of way that required intervention, it was just a general strain of fuckboy crumminess that seems to come with the territory of anxiously trying to make every single day the time of your life in the big city. One day my most gossipy friend, who was one of my oldest friends actually, told me something about a core member of our clique who I had never personally gotten along with in part because I thought he was kind of a misogynist: Apparently, for some reason, the gossip showed the misogynist a funny video from my blog.* The misogynist said it made him hate me and made him "want to punch (me) in the face over and over and over again." Naturally I thought this was kind of a fucked up thing to say, perhaps especially to someone about one of their best friends, and especially about a girl half your size. I asked my friend, the gossip, what he said in response; you know, Did you tell him to shut the fuck perhaps, or ask him what the hell his problem was? And the gossip became very uncomfortable because he hadn't said shit and apparently I was not having the desired reaction. I don't know what the desired reaction was. I guess the gossip thought this story would create a fun opportunity for us to gossip about what a jerk this guy is, but I really don't know what he was thinking. All I know is that he did not expect me to call a meeting with a few of our closest friends to ask "Hey what's going on, this guy is not nice to women on a pretty basic social level and apparently he goes around talking about beating them to a bloody pulp for almost no reason. Does anyone ever tell him that's not cool? Does anyone tell him 'Hey that's my dear friend whose face you're talking about smashing, don't say that about her, it's gross and it sucks'? Is anyone asking him what his problem is, or giving any indication that the idea of beating the shit out of women is not considered comedy gold in this social circle, and maybe he shouldn't be encouraged to keep testing the limits of his bad attitude toward girls?" But of course, I only succeeded in making everyone uncomfortable with me personally, and nothing else changed.

Maybe I was overreacting, it's not like I actually thought he was going to hit me; I just thought he shouldn't be allowed to feel like that was socially acceptable behavior but I guess it was all in fun and none of my business. Still, I did kind of think about that incident later on when I was drugged and nearly assaulted by somebody's roommate at a party--a person who spent the rest of the night openly doing weird things to other girls, some of whom had to leave to get away from him--and the only result of me speaking up about it was people talking behind my back about how I was looking for attention.

* It just now occurs to me that the video in question was just me describing my slovenly womanizing roommate who we all hated, who was so rampantly awful to girls that one day I booked a hair cut and the woman started talking about this terrible guy she had just broken up with and I suddenly realized OMG IT'S MY EX-ROOMMATE. But I guess if you speak out about such a person, even as a joke, you deserve to get punched in the face over and over and over again.

[tisthedamngreenbriar]

windows boarded up after the storm, he built a fire just to keep me warm.

guys i'm so embarassed. so. i wrote this for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge, BUT THE JULY ONE. and as you may notice it is september already.

in my defense, i kinda started this one and then completely abandoned it on my drafts and never once looked back. but now is here! kinda! this is my first time ever writing a challenge, and also my first time posting my writing in here!! for the sprint challenge july 2023, I chose the social media prompt + one of the prompts from previous challenges (hope that was allowed??)

this is neither polished or revised, just fresh out the notes app so you guys will have to forgive me for errors. i fully intend to develop this aswell, but we'll see.

enjoy!

***

It was supposed to be small. A simple get together for their group, with cake and booze to celebrate Rose's birthday. But, now they were in a mansion one hour out of town and Marinette was pretty sure she could smell something burning.

But, first things first: lets not get ahead of ourselves.

***

Moving everything was a pain in the ass. They'd to be quick and through so no food or garnment was neither damaged nor left behind - also watch out for the worst case scenario, harming sound equipament -, and the threat of the storm was making Marinette mimic the thunders, rumbling with anxiety. With everything already packed in the cars, they went on their merry way, with Adrien leading the path out of the city. 

The blonde boy really was an angel. Offering to take the party to his country house when the weather became Marinette's worse enemy was so kind that the bluenette's heart fluttered a bit, reminding her why she used to have that stupid and exponentially big crush on him all those years ago. Not that that meant anything: her romantic organ also gave a little jump seeing him help Kagami, his long term girlfriend, into the car. Affection just made her goofy.

Getting to the estate was easy, since the rain wasn't really pouring yet and the traffic was on their side, for a change. Obviously, it was huge, because the Agrestes never failed in that department, and everyone immeadiately? started setting everything up on the patio behind the main house and in front of the guest one, so they could use it for bathroom breaks and personal items since no one was willying to wander in the Agreste's mansion and risk scarring his perfectly put everything. The rain didnt seem to follow them so atleast it was safe to be outside.

And then there was Luka. Going around helping out everyone, smilling and whistling to himself. Luka who was just as oblivious to her as Adrien had been, cause apparently that was just her luck. 

"Girl, stop staring, Jesus" Alya's voice broke off any coherent line of thought that Marinette could have formed, startling the smaller one. "You're gonna burn holes on that poor boys back"

"Am I that bad, or is it possible that you are just a drama queen hoping to live uncomfortable situations vicariously through me since you are on a happy and commited relationship?" Marinette arched her brown and left out a breath after going through that phrase fast so that her best friend couldn't interrupt.

"I thought you were a double  major on fashion and business, not psychoanalysis, babes" Alya's eyes closed in on her behind the glasses, the tilt of the redhead's head adding to the menacing look.

"And I thought you were on margarita duty. Where are my drinks, Césaire?"

"Here," the sound came from behind Marinette and this time the jump almost made her drop the firmly held karaoke machine. Before she could register the movement, a arm came foward to take it out of her hands, caging her in. "Where do you want these?" The voice was now in her ear, speaking so softly it could only belong to Luka. This time, the surprise made her actually jerk foward and the man stepped back to allow the reaction.

With the added space, Marinette turned to face him, carrying a pint of she supposed were margaritas on one hand and the box who she was just strugglig with on the other like it was nothing. Looking absolutely delicious doing both, not to mention it.

"Sorry for the scare, Mari," he smiled at her apologetic and she believed she could have died right there on the spot, hearing the nickname and seeing the dimples "'I was just trying to help."

"No, no, its okay! Im just... jumpy. So much to do and whatnot" she tried her best to smile back but the proximity made it wobly. she probably looked so silly that just thinking about it made her wanna scream. But Luka didnt seem fazed.

"At your service" Marinette felt like passing out. "I'm gonna find a place to put these down and then come back to help, okay?"

Not trusting herself to speak, the French-Chinese simply nodded, and at that he walked out. Alya's eyes were on her the whole time, fighting back the smirk.

"Not a word" Marinette sushed her, and the journalist cackled into the sky.

***

The party was a success, as far as last minute ones go. It made Rose so happy she teared up a little over the cake, plus she was so delighted at Marinettes dedication to making the whole arrangement work -- and fighting for the party to go on on the first place -- that the petit blond decided to gift her with the first slice of cake.

Now, it was late and they were all a little too buzzed to drive back. The lights and decorations were all still up, so they sat on a messy circle made out of lawn chairs and pillows, chating about nothing in particular.

Somehow, Marinette ended up on Luka's chair, their bodies pressed together in the small space. Looking for the perfect position, luka grabbed her legs so that they were in his lap and trew one of his arms over her shoulders, causing the girl to shiver with the contact.

"You cold?" He asked her while drawing patterns on her knee hith the hand that rested there. She took a minute to answer positively, barely registering that it was a question, concentrating too much on the way his fingers found the spot that got all her hairs standing and saluding the man that was Luka Couffaine. The second shudder was welcomed by him, who took the softly whispered "yes" and the trembling as results of her freezing and not Marinette being turned on. Thank God for small mercies.

With that, Luka got up and sprinted away after drapping his jacket all around her. She didnt quite understand what was going on until he had already organized all the firewood on the middle of the patio and was trying to light it.

He wasnt. No way.

But apparently the thought of setting stuff on fire appealed more to Luka than simply holding her. Awesome.

"Do you ever just forget they're Couffaines? But then they do something like like this." She could hear the laugh in Rose's voice before turning to meet her eye. "In the beggining of our relationship Juleka would pull the most ridiculous stunts and go the hardest lenghts to prove herself to me. It was so silly. I felt like a damsel in distress on a bad mute movie. But don't worry too much about it. Luka is far more vocal than Jules, and even if he weren't they are fast learners, the Couffaines."

...What?

Maybe the confusion was obvious in Marinettes face, or she had said it out loud cause Rose continued.

"What? Did I say something wrong? Did I meddled? Is just that you guys have been on this will they, won't the thing for so long, and neither of you would just come out and say it! It feels good to be finally able to say it, that's it." Marinettes eyes widened even more than she thought it was possible. What the hell Rose thinks is going on?

It was only when all the bluenette could do was look terrified with her mouth basically hanging open, that the blonde one realized she made a mistake.

[tenebraevesper]

Analyzer - Félix & Emotion, Part 2 (Miraculous Ladybug)

Welcome to Part 2 of my Félix and Emotion Analyzer! Last time we left off, Félix had just transformed into Argos and poofed Gabriel out of existence!

Told ya I'd dance on that bastard's grave.

Anyways, Part 2 will cover what happens during Episode 18: Emotion, as well as its resolution, with Part 3 covering everything that happens afterwards.

Let's start!

Right after Gabriel got Thanos-snapped by Argos, he proceeds to snap other people attending the party out of existence, clearly having a lot of fun with this.

This guy... has issues.

This includes Kagami's mother (Yatta!), which pisses Kagami off. Apparently, she does not know just how awful her mother is, yet, with Argos telling her how she's finally free. Argos then grabs Marinette and leaps out of the building, leaving Kagami in tears.

Marinette is, understandably, pissed off, and demands that Argos tells her what he had done with Adrien, and Argos responds how he'd never hurt Adrien (ruining his reputation is apparently a-okay, but given all the things Adrien did to piss me off personally, yeah, it was deserved). Argos then proceeds to dump Marinette unceremoniously into a dumpster, which did get a chuckle out of me.

After he made sure that Marinette was safe, Argos then proceeds to frigging walk around the city, singing and dancing as he snaps more people out of existence.

Okay, who's idea was this?! Honestly, the first time I saw this, I was like... What? Like, I legit had no idea how to react to this.

It's so goofy and out of place, but at the same time, I can't blame him for having the time of his life. He's definitely a theatre kid.

Ladybug then appears, with Argos telling her how they're waiting for Cat Noir and then he can get their Miraculous. Ladybug's conclusion is that he works for Monarch, which... well, it makes sense in her mind. She finally points out how he's the reason they lost all the Miraculous to Monarch.

Argos responds that she's correct, except he works for no one. He attacks her, proceeding to explain how he used them to get the Peacock Miraculous and now he needs the Ladybug and Cat Miraculous to make his wish.

Ladybug questions his motivation, with Argos explaining:

Argos: When I merge your Miraculous together, I'll make a wish to create a better world! A free world — where no one will be under anyone's control anymore, where no one will be excluded like I was! A world without people like you to decide what's right or wrong! Who gets powers and who doesn't! Ladybug: There would be a terrible price to pay... (Argos stops for a moment.) Argos: There's no price too high for me. I have nothing to lose.

Honestly, this kid is desperate if he's willing to go that far, but we'll get to why in a moment. Also, this line of dialogue is... frustrating to say the least after seeing the Season 5 Finale.

Ladybug: You're no better than Monarch if you use the same methods he does! I'll NEVER give you my Miraculous!! Argos: Then, I'll do without it! If you don't let me recreate the world, I'll use my own power to transform it! I'll just snap my fingers until there's no one left!

Yeah, Maribug, Félix would be no better than Gabriel for making the wish, and you would never allow something like that to happen.

Somehow, an abused teenager is still more irredeemable than a terrorist. The Miraculous Ladybug Writing, ladies and gentlemen!

Not to mention, Argos still has more braincells than Monarch (who would lose every episode despite having almost all of the Miraculous and Maribug and Adrichat still fail to take away the Miraculous from him despite having him cornered) and decides to use Red Moon to delete everyone from his new Minecraft server.

Argos has Maribug literally cornered, and honestly, this is a really tense situation. If she does anything, he'll just snap his fingers and she's gone. Maribug proceeds to use Lucky Charm... and gets absolutely nothing. Now, that's a shocker.

Argos proceeds to call a checkmate, and Maribug agrees. Here's the deal, Argos cannot be defeated the usual way. He's in control here, and only he can decide what he will do next. He demands Maribug's Miraculous, but she refuses. Argos threatens that all of humanity will disappear if she doesn't do it, but she responds how he's the only one who can decide this.

Frustrated, Argos proceeds to snap her out of existence.

We then see Argos walking around the empty city (well, more empty than usual), and it's rather eerie. Still, he smiles, clearly happy with his decision. That is, until he's confronted by Kagami, who is pissed off at him for making everyone she loved disappear. Argos' answer to it is "Not everyone." and he makes Adrien appear. Ah, so that's where he was.

When questioned about what happened, Argos tells Adrien how he created a better world for him, a world where he's free. We then get a flashback of how this whole plan got started.

Argos: Oh, little amok, can you feel my anger? Bring life to my creation, dear amok. And let my emotions come to life! (holds up a copy of Adrien's camouflaged Cat Miraculous which is where the amok transfers into, and a small, red moon appears.) Hello, Red Moon. I'm Argos. Together, we're going to save Adrien from my uncle's grasp so that he can finally be free!

So, Argos used his anger to create an amok that would help him save Adrien from his uncle's grasp, so he can finally be free. It is a noble intention, but the execution went south. The question remains, why would Argos do that? It'll be answered in a moment, but next, we see Argos spying on Marinette and Adrien's date, and once Adrien runs off, Argos calls him and snaps him out of existence, taking over his identity to sneak into the Diamond Dance.

The reason he had been in hiding was because he was waiting for the perfect opportunity to set both of them free.

Argos: To set us all free! And offer us a new world where no one can tell us what we can or can't do! And voilà! We're free! And we're together! Aren't you incredibly happy?!

Pay attention to this bit, I will go over in the conclusion.

Kagami and Adrien are, surprise, surprise, not happy, and Kagami attacks him, while Adrien calls him crazy, demanding he brings all the people back. Argos responds how this is what Adrien wanted, to be free.

Argos: What's there not to like? What's the problem? (continues to evade Kagami's attacks and goes above the roof of a car) I thought you wanted to be freed from your parents? Look, isn't this great? Just the three of us! We have everything we need to be happy!!

Adrien and Kagami are just frustrated with him, with Kagami on the verge of tears and Adrien wonders how he can be without his friends, his father (*eye-roll*) and the girl he loves. Argos tells him how he isn't that evil, since he got Marinette stashed away in a dumpster, only to learn that she isn't there. Argos then tries to snap her back, but since he snapped her away as Ladybug, Marinette won't appear.

Argos: You really think I'm that evil? (goes to open the trash bin where he hid Marinette...) Ta-da! (...only to find it empty; Adrien and Kagami peek inside, too) Huh? That's weird. (snaps his fingers in hopes of bringing back Marinette) Huh?! I don't understand! (backs away from the trash bin) She should come back! (continues to snap his fingers) Something's wrong! I can usually bring back whoever I want, but it's like she's nowhere! Like she's completely gone! I'm sorry, Adrien!

Argos starts panicking, trying to return Marinette, but it doesn't work. Just, just look at this breakdown:

Adrien tells him how he isn't even in control of his own power (you would know all about that, huh, Mr. Cataclysm), with Argos bringing everyone back, telling Adrien how he never wanted to hurt the two

Maribug is back, de-transforming and reuniting with Adrien and Kagami. Argos just watches them, clearly remorseful, and then leaves to talk to Red Moon.

Argos: My friend, I've made a terrible mistake. I shouldn't have created you out of so much anger. Your power is terrible. What would've happened if I lost control? Can you forgive me? (drops to his knees) My friend, my sister. I release you from existence. (snaps Red Moon out of existence as he bursts into tears)

We see that Argos is absolutely devastated to release Red Moon from her existence, even calling her his sister, and breaks down in tears. Honestly, I genuinely felt sorry for him here.

Back at London, Argos has a conversation with Amelie, which shows that she knew exactly what he was up to:

Amelie: You were right: I did everything you told me to and Gabriel didn't do or say anything to help me. He despises me. He's a monster! They're all monsters! Argos: Hold my feather. (He de-transforms into Félix and goes to hug Amelie) Félix: Not all of them. (smiles)

Want to bet that that person is Marinette?

So, this was Emotion. What did we learn? *rubs hands* Hoo, boy, what did we learn...

I still stand behind my statement that Félix is the best character in Miraculous Ladybug, and this episode proves it. Emotion gives Félix a lot of depth, showing that, for all his cunning and ability to outsmart any opponent, he's still just a teenager who wants to make this world better for himself and the people he cares about. His mind is completely focused on survival, and he took the Peacock Miraculous because that was what he needed to survive.

He basically takes upon himself to shoulder a burden on his own, to do what he believes is the best for Adrien, and Kagami, as he doesn't trust anyone else. He thinks that everyone besides the people he cares about are controlling bastards, similar to Gabriel - complete monsters, as he calls them. He spared Marinette, because she had shown that she cares about Adrien.

Despite having taken the Genocide Route, Félix is not heartless. I see him more as a misguided teenager who believes he knows what he's doing. He was so incredibly happy that everyone who could hurt him, Adrien or Kagami was gone, and I'm certain this reaction comes from a very traumatic moment from his life. When he learns that what he wants and what those he cares about is different, he pauses to think about it. Hell, the moment he believed that he couldn't bring back Marinette and was afraid that he lost control of his powers, he returned everyone at once, apologizing to Kagami and Adrien for what he had done.

Given what we learn later on about his past, there is no doubt Félix's mindset is the consequence of his upbringing, and his desire for freedom had warped him mentally and emotionally, to the point he saw no other way out but to snap everyone out of existence. He doesn't even trust Maribug nor Adrichat to help him, and I think I can pinpoint where this distrust comes from - watching the Sentimonsters in Season 4 Finale being sent into the sun by Ladybug and her hero team.

Yeah, without shying around, the truth is that Félix is a Sentimonster himself, and so are Adrien and Kagami. His focus on the Agreste Rings and the Peacock Miraculous, as well as him watching tearfully other Sentimonsters being annihilated makes it clear that not only does he understand what he is, but also that his life can easily be ended by a snap of fingers... as Gabriel had threatened him before.

That's why he didn't care about snapping away everyone but Kagami and Adrien. He knew they weren't humans, but Sentimonsters under the control of their parents. Knowing how both of them desired freedom, he decided to fulfill his own and their wishes, only for it to backfire.

I see Félix as a very tragic character, who did have the best intentions, but went wrong about them. He had no issue betraying Maribug in Season 4 because he didn't give a damn about the population of Paris, or the rest of the world for that matter. Would anyone care about him if he was snapped out of existence? Most likely, only his mother.

Furthermore, he understands that, even if there are monsters among humanity, there is someone he believes would care about him, but that's for later.

So, in conclusion, Emotion is Peak!Félix. Of course, there are a few observations I made, the main being why Félix doesn't tell someone, anyone, that Monarch is Gabriel Agreste, but to my surprise, we got that answered in another episode.

Links:

#Analyzer - Félix & Emotion, Part 1 (Miraculous Ladybug)

#Analyzer - Félix & Emotion, Part 3 (Miraculous Ladybug)

#Up Ladybug (Masterlist)

[personne-writes]

It's Halloween! You are at your hometown's celebration. Like every year, they're hosting a themed party in the modest city hall across the street. The whole neighborhood usually gathers there, and you make no exception.

You're one of the many who offered to help. You'll be serving pumpkin soup for most of the evening. As you welcome the families in after their treat-and-treating, you take a sip from your own paper cup. You wrinkle your nose at the unexpected bitter taste.

You're one of the few who aren't wearing a costume. You couldn't find time to dress up. That's alright, though, they tell you. There's a trunk full of disguises in the backroom, you could give it a look, if you wanted. You thank them and keep this info at the back of your mind, but somehow you never find the trunk, nor the back room.

It didn't hit you before, but you realize you're the only adult in a crowd of children. No, wait, they aren't children really. You know this, because nobody lets children play with knives. They look casual enough, like they're used to handling them. It doesn't really put you at ease. You decide to go out for a minute, allow yourself a quick smoke.

Back inside, it appears you're alone in the building. You can't see anyone, and more importantly, you can hear nothing but the sound of your own breathing. Well, that, and the sound of seconds ticking, coming from the clock hanging in your kitchen. You sigh, then you blink.

You're alone with your thoughts. Your cup of tea has grown cold in your hands. You knew you wouldn't leave your house tonight, not any more than you did in the past decade - but your imagination ran free. That happens, sometimes. It never ends up nicely. Apparently, you can't let yourself have even this.

It's Halloween. You could be anywhere. See anyone. Do anything.

You're alone.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Devs' Intentions

I read an article yesterday (I think it was GameRant) about a whole bunch of stuff that was cut out of Baldur's Gate 3 before official release. I don't remember all of them, but that's probably because they weren't very important to me one way or the other. However, there were a few that, for better or for worse, caught my attention. And ... well, I'm me. Before I start liveblogging the ridiculous cuteness that is the start of the Shadowheart romance (because whatever multiverse she lives in, Alisaie apparently goes for the dark-haired, mostly-serious, adorkable-when-allowing-herself-to-be-vulnerable godly ones), I wanted to talk about a few of them.

Exhaustion Mechanic: Oh dear sweet fucking gods, I'm glad they scrapped that one. Apparently that whole bit where the companions remark how tired they are is a holdover from that, but it used to come with a decrease to stats, just like the exhaustion mechanic in the PHB. Except ... I'm not sure they could have implemented that without it being ridiculously punishing. Encumberance is bad enough; don't hit my stats because I want to keep playing without taking a long rest, okay?

More Crafting Than Just Potions: Apparently at one point they were looking at allowing people to make and enchant their own weapons and armour. This is why you tend to find gems and metal ingots all over the place. While I'm a little sad about the lack of a crafting mechanic, I can see why they left it out - having a herbalism kit in the TTRPG version is one thing, but carrying around a fucking forge is something else again. And at least now I know this, so I can actually sell off the stupid metal ingots (except the infernal iron, obviously) because I don't actually need them.

Minsc: Apparently he should have been introduced earlier in the game, with a much more comprehensive character arc. I'm not sure why they went with the "rushed in Act 3" introduction to him in party, mostly because I haven't got that far yet, but I would imagine it has something to do with party management.

The Entire Upper Level of Baldur's Gate: Apparently there's an entire section of Baldur's Gate the city that was just ... excised from the game. Maybe they didn't have enough time to finish it, or maybe it just made the game too unwieldy, but apparently data mining indicates that there were a few things tied to the upper city that ... well, were really, really important to varoius characters' endgame states. So if you're dissatisfied with some characters' endings? It's probably to do with that. (And I won't go any further because spoilers.)

The Dark Urge: Now, here's the one I look at and really think, "Larian learned some lessons from Divinity: Original Sin 2" as regards player agency and going too far on the grimdark. Because apparently? Originally, the only way you could have an original character was to take the Dark Urge. There was no Tav / Dark Urge divide; if you wanted your own character instead of playing one of the origin characters? You were stuck with the Dark Urge, whether you wanted it or not. Now, don't get me wrong; if someone wants to play that, more power to them. Just, from what I've read about it, it does involve a certain loss of agency dependent on your stats. If you have to resist that Dark Urge, you're going to need saving throws, and if that's your dump stat because you wanted to play a strength-based character, that's just ... yeah. I don't mind the option being there; it's interesting on the conceptual level. I just wouldn't want that to be my only option. So I'm glad that Larian pried themselves out of Grimdark Valley long enough to go, "Okay, some people might not want to spend all their time fighting blind murderfrenzy just to play a good character", and make a separate, non-Dark Urge Tav. I also figure it has something to do with the issues in Divinity: Original Sin 2 where you'd want to take a specific course of action only to have one of your companions slaughter the quest objective before you could talk to them. (Still never forgiving them for that.)

So ... yeah, some things I'm really glad they stripped out. Others I wonder why? And some, while I enjoy them as mechanics (look, I am a crafting fiend, okay?), I can accept that they wouldn't have added much. I guess I wonder the thought processes that were going on in dev meetings where they came to those conclusions. I imagine the Dark Urge thing and the exhaustion mechanic thing both got, "Look, we can't stick them with this; they will riot", but ... what happened to that whole section of Baldur's Gate?

Maybe I've been dealing with too much bullshit from various AAA game companies*, but if they sell that shit as DLC I am going to set something on fire.

* - YES I AM LOOKING AT YOU, BIOWARE, WITH YOUR SELLING OFF THE ACTUAL ENDING AND/OR KEY ELEMENTS REQUIRED TO UNDERSTAND THE NEXT GAME IN THE SERIES AS DLC. I AM NOT FORGIVING YOU FOR LEGACY, AND I AM CERTAINLY NOT FORGIVING YOU FOR TRESPASSER. DLC IS SUPPOSED TO BE FUN ADDED EXTRAS, LIKE SOLDIER'S PEAK! YOU USED TO UNDERSTAND THIS, EVEN IF YOU DID STICK A FUCKING AD FOR IT IN CAMP.

[apupp3tw0-strings]

Dark World, New Friend?

Date: October 5th, 2131

Oooooooh boy. Okay. You're never gonna believe what just happened.

So Papa and I were at the school in Hometowns helping my Auntie Toriel move classrooms. Some of my cousins were there helping too (how Papa even convinced me was a chance to see CK). While Papa and my older cousin Kris cleaned out Aunt Tori's old classroom, CK and I were helping clean the new classroom she was moving into.

I was just looking for a feather duster when I noticed the closet connected to the classroom was locked. When I asked Aunt Tori about it, she said Kris might have the keys but there was another door to the closet in the hall. After that CK exclaimed "RACE YA!" and was already out the door.

For as much as I love my cousin, he's always been really brash and never cautious. He might make fun of me for being overly cautious but at least I don't get into trouble all the time like he does.

Anyways, once we got to the door, I called for CK to wait, but like, as soon as he got close the doors sprung open and started... emitting darkness. Just like in my dream.

I tried to tell CK to wait or maybe have us grab an adult but, before I could say a word, he grabbed my hand and jumped in. Like I said. Always brash, never cautious.

After falling in to the closet, CK and I landed in a strange, dark place, as well as had some sort of costume change? CK looked like some kinda princely jester? Meanwhile I was wearing armor and had an apron and googles. There was also some sort of town or... well it felt more like a city honestly. There were all these buildings and strange monster like creatures and even a castle! Of course CK rushed a head again. Even I admit I sorta wanted to explore.

At some point while we were exploring, taking in this amazing city within the storage closet, CK got tackled by something. A round sorta bluish imp in a jester costume. He was soon accompanied by a short puppet with slicked black hair, a wide grin, glasses and a long nose, wearing a tattered black suit jacket. (Man, actually describing it, guess it looked kinda like me... or what I looked like before entering the strange world in the closet.)

We later learned the imp and puppet's names were Jevil and Spamton, and that they were not infact, weird monsters, but beings known as "Darkners". They also referred to us as "Lightners". (Jevil also called CK and I "green" which was weird because neither of us were. I was pink and yellow while CK like, his fur was orange and he was dressed in purples, blues, blacks and yellows)

Jevil seemed pretty excited about CK and I, at least I think, while Spamton sorta yelled at/berated him? I was still trying to process the whole situation when Kris found us. Looks like we were busted... Kris said the two of us weren't supposed to be there and this place was apparently "too dangerous for kids", even though they wouldn't tell us why and Jevil kept retorting their claims. CK and I also piped up with the fact that were a whole 9 years old and practically pre-teens already! (Despite the fact I like just barely turned 9 last month, it's not important)

Eventually we came to a compromise. Kris would test our strength and if we pasted by showing we knew how to ACT and spar and stuff, then we'd be allowed to stay and hang out in the strange closet world. Since the training dummy Kris wanted to use was apparently being used by other people according to Spamton (I'm guessing for a display since he mentioned display purposes only? Spamton talks a bit weird, I'll get into that some other time), Kris pointed us to a building labeled "Party Dojo"

Inside the Dojo, Kris talked to a blue puzzle shaped Darkner before leading CK and I to a sorta wrestling ring with a disco ball hanging above it. (Or, it WAS a disco ball. As soon as I looked away and back, it turned into a pumpkin. There's been a LOT of pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns around today.)

Once we all in the ring, we started the battle. Though the options were similar, something about battles in the closet dimension was still different from what I was used to. I had an actual weapon instead of just my magic and bullet patterns (a pair of dual blades) and we all fought as a together as a team. Kris ended up doing most the work... until they decided itd be better if CK and I fight THEM on our own. While CK seemed more than eager, the idea of fighting Kris sorta... scared me. Even if the other side of the area was more like the sparing I'm used to, I really don't like using my magic and didn't quite know how to use my new swords. (Just my luck CK got a hammer he seemed to nail down first try.) Even still, I had to attack if I wanted to show Kris I was strong and capable enough to hang out in this awesome place! So using all the courage I had, I swung my blades and attacked with my string magic. I think I even moved the battle box around, still don't really know how. Kris still ended up sparing both of us and ending the battle. (They ended up sparing me by praising my attack...)

Anyways, after the battle, Kris agreed to let us stay. Granted under their supervision and only for a while. The 5 of us headed to the Castle in the center of the town and had some pie, where I had a chance to get to know Spamton a bit more...

[isolaradiale]

11:50PM

WARNING... YOU HAVE TEN MINUTES TO GET AWAY FROM THE DWELLERS LEST YOU'D LIKE TO BE EVISCERATED...

It was an announcement broadcast setting-wide that certainly would have given anyone still fighting the Dwellers plenty of time to evacuate. And once they had? There was an almost unsettling stillness both across the island and throughout the space station. A feeling of anticipation and concern. Was there a plan B if this didn't work? Potentially scrapping the entire project if need be.

12:00AM

If you looked up at the sky at the very moment it turned 12:00AM you would have seen a number of "stars" light up with bright blue not all that far out. Satellites that had been repurposed for this very moment charging beams of light that crashed down onto the moon and branches of the island.

From the city it seemed like a light show signaling the end of days, with pillars of light crashing against the sounds of screaming monsters. Enough damage had been done for the beams to be effective, thankfully. Once those pillars of light thinned into nothing there was nary a Dweller nor Latcher left.

----------

"...and so repair efforts may take a few days, but the points of impact should be restored to their former states. General repairs of the city are minimal, so feel free to continue on as normal." The sound of a news report helmed by Ofiuco in android form played in the background as the Stars conducted their review the next morning.

The sound of one of them tapping the table was the most distracting. "So you're saying we still don't know who got in through a backdoor? Is there still a risk of them slipping in again?" This issue had been resolved, but clearly not in the way they would have liked.

"No... While security has been bolstered with new measures it may be a matter of time before something happens again. But how did they know about the project? It wasn't NULL based on our reports. It lacked all of their signature methods and digital fingerprints. We can only assume it was an independent party."

"And what of Ofiuco?" Another asked while leaning back in their chair. Her absence was notable considering she had been at the forefront of the incident.

"She felt bad, apparently. Reincorporating the Spiramonsters in the manner we have was her idea, and so she's been dealing with the upkeep. I still think it would have been easier to just delete them, but..."

"Perhaps because she too is an artificial lifeform..."

-------------

THE STRANGE EVENTS COME TO AN END... FOR NOW.

Thanks for participating in DATA CORRUPT! The threats of the monsters have been dealt with and some semblance of normalcy has returned to the city again. Although not without some changes!

SPIRAMONSTERS ARE NOW A PERMANENT GROUP FIXTURE!

While they won't exist in the city in a physical sense, every citizen will find a brand new application on their phone simply titled "SMAR (SpiraMonster Augmented Reality)". Upon activating it you will be able to see and interact with your Spiramonster freely, and anyone else who activates the app nearby will be able to do the same (no weird glasses or goggles required)! They will not be able to interact with the physical world, but an AR copy of their surroundings will be created so they can interact with that instead.

Those who obtained the Spiragotchi during THE CHALLENGER'S PATH will still be able to interact with their Spiramonster that way as well. Having one also adds the functionality of allowing you to dress them up in cute outfits without the hassle of having to make them sit still to physically do it.

Additionally, during events that feature combat segments like this one did, characters will be able to summon their Spiramonsters to fight alongside them in the physical world if you so desire!

Because of this, new characters will be able to create their own Spiramonsters even after the event has ended. You can even modify the one you have provided you follow the initial guidelines in THE CHALLENGER'S PATH post. All of this information will be put together on a page at a later date.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Aside from the usual Stars reward you get from completing an event, there will also be a small unlock or uncap that you can obtain through the Galaxy blog between the days of Monday, September 4th and Monday, September 18th. To be eligible for this reward you must have participated in either part of the event and include where to find your participation in the ask along with the power / weapon you would like unlocked or upgraded.

POST-EVENT FAQ

What if I want my character to get struck by a space laser? That is 100% your prerogative if you want your character to be turned into nothing! They'll respawn of course!

Are there any remnants of the Dwellers or Latchers? The Dwellers have been completely obliterated down to the molecular level. The Latchers were so spread out, on the other hand, that you may still find them mingling with the island wildlife for the foreseeable future in very rare sightings. Hm... Hopefully they can't reproduce?

Everyone's powers were returned to their original limitations, right? They were!

Who is the culprit behind this incident? Unknown, but they will make a return in the future. Probably not until a 2024 event however!

Why is Ofiuco the cutest? She was scientifically engineered to be "the cutest".