#nah the pixelation was so bad here...

[kyupideros]

— S1E11, Tu Bian Yingxiong X.

[clairewritesfanfics]

Villain Creation System Chapter 6

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Attempted sexual assault

CHAPTER 5: This Boy is a Choking Hazard Series Masterlist <<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>

Wisteria was fancier than what you expected from a nightclub. Cleaner, too. It was glass and steel and purple to pink neon lights. Artificial wisteria flowers hung from the ceiling and walls. 

The place was freezing and reeked of sweat, booze and a plethora of perfumes.

You were close to throwing up from sensory overload when someone yelled your name amidst the chatter and you found Amber waving at you from the bar. 

You wove past the jittering bodies to join her.

“Mark invited you, huh?” She didn’t seem mad or jealous, but she did sound defeated.

“Is that bad?”

She shook her head, smiling weakly. “Nah. He’s a good guy, I wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t. Just don’t forget what I told you. Mark has a way of wriggling into people’s hearts, especially pretty girls’.”

“I won’t. Thanks, Amber.”

“No problem.” She glanced down at your clothes. “You look great, by the way. I love your jacket.”

You resisted the urge to scoff and thought back to several hours ago.

This body’s taste in clothes was similar to yours, if a little juvenile. The system said that it was because it relayed some of your memories to the World Consciousness. Being a tutorial level mission world certainly helped too.

[Do not expect this to be the same in every mission world, though. As I have said before, the World Consciousness is imperfect. A lot of its programming ability goes to replicating your defining physical features like eye color and complexion, but that leaves everything else subject to variation.]

“I get it already, limited energy or whatever, right?” You waved it off, trying to find the best outfit for the club. 

The system huffed–it did not appreciate getting brushed off like some nagging wife–and pixelated smoke puffed out of the corners of its screen, dispersing in the air as tiny dots of light. Deciding to get back at its Host, the system waited for you to pick up a t-shirt and then played that buzzer sound quiz shows would use when a participant got an answer wrong.

[Too plain.]

You raised an eyebrow but agreed. Your hand went for another top. 

[Too gaudy.]

Fine. You reached for something else–EEEEHH. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at the floating holographic monitor. 

The system made an innocent face.

[Too ugly.]

[Too vibrant.]

[Too frumpy.]

It didn’t take more than two minutes of getting bombarded with that obnoxious EEEEHH for you to put your foot down. You settled for something comfortable but more party-coded than your usual wear. The most noteworthy piece on you was a denim jacket decorated with a few pins.

Amber was admiring the one shaped like a semicolon while you used disinfectant wipes on the barstool next to her.

“So,” you started, taking a seat. “How was your test?”

She let out an exaggerated sigh. “What’s done is done. Tonight, I’m just going to focus on dancing. Hey, you’re still coming to my party tomorrow, right?”

“Uh-huh.” To be honest, your social battery was drained to half capacity just by entering this place. If this was a purely social endeavor you would’ve already prepared a whole story about your not-grandmother being in a hospital and wanting to see you tomorrow, but this was a job. If playing nice and pretending to have fun is what your job needs then so be it.

Besides, it would feel wrong to say no to her now.

“I like your blouse,” you said. 

She wore a gold sequin halter top with a pair of high-waisted jeans. 

“Thanks! A friend of mine picked it out for me, I thought it was too much but she said it’d be a waste not to get it. I think you’ll really like her, she’s an architecture major.” Her eyes flickered over your shoulder and she beamed, waving at someone. “There she is now.”

[Ding.]

“Hey, Amber.” The voice was undoubtedly feminine and clear. The kind of voice befitting an important woman.

Red-orange flickered from the corner of your eye.

Amber stood to give the new arrival a quick hug and then introduced the two of you.

The emerald-eyed stranger offered you a smile and her hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

[Samantha Eve Wilkins has arrived.]

Long fiery hair fell delicately over bare freckled-kiss shoulders and her green eyes popped thanks to the lavender silk of her blouse. She was even more striking in person, there was no doubt in your mind that she was an important supporting character. Hell, she could probably pass for the main character. 

You gave her hand two shakes. “Hi.”

The bartender arrived, sliding a cool root beer towards Amber and asking you, “What can I get you?”

“Lemon lime–” “–peach soda”

You and Eve exchanged glances, then you giggled at the same time.

The bartender nodded and left to get your drinks.

“Amber tells me you’re a total genius,” Eve said, sitting next to you instead of Amber and effectively sandwiching you between the two beauties. If you were as old as this body was, you would have thrown up from anxiety. Luckily, you have learned to be more adaptable before you died.

“I’m not a genius,” you replied, accepting the bottle of lemon lime from the bartender with a smile and barely audible ‘thank you.’

Amber waved her hand. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. You always get the highest score in every test and pop quiz–and you only make what, one or two mistakes? It’s insane.” She leaned closer and said to Eve, “The professor thought she was cheating so he had her retake a different version of a test in essay form.” 

“No way.” Eve’s jaw dropped. “Is that even allowed?”

“We’re not sure, but jokes on him, our girl here–” she gave you a friendly elbow jab “–got perfect marks on that.”

You groaned internally. You weren’t a genius, but you were technically a college graduate, one who already suffered through chemistry, biology, psychology and so many other -ies. 

Daily study sessions, a stringent schedule, different tutors and a sprinkle of all-nighters here and there can go a long way. You also genuinely enjoyed learning, and in this reality, you didn’t have to worry about time or money, so you can focus your energy on studying. The only catch is that you have to go above and beyond for one particular, very specific subject: Mark Grayson. 

Your interest in other people who are too distant to be considered friends is usually limited. Relationships are hard, at least for you. Humans can say one thing but mean something else. For example, if one is invited for a drink with their boss, technically, they can say no, but they don’t because it is a faux pas to reject a social invite from an important person. One has to smile and nod when another speaks, even when the topic is boring or nonsensical or disagreeable.

Etiquette and expectations. Tradition versus reason. 

Confusing, annoying, but necessary, you admit. 

You stared at the cartoon logo on your plastic bottle. 

Speaking of confusing things, where the heck is Mark?

[Ding. The system is offline.]

[The system was called “useless” and “unnecessary” by the Host.]

[Since this system is so “useless” and “unnecessary,” it shall stay away for now.]

[(˶˃⤙˂˶)]

Little punk.

You rolled your eyes and let it be, deciding to survey the area. According to Mark, tonight the whole club was reserved for the college or something; an immediate celebration after the first major exams of the academic year. 

Expectedly, the entire floor was swarmed with young adults, from freshmen to seniors. Some held beer, others went with sodas or juice. 

“Great place, right?” Eve asked, pulling you out of focus mode.

“Yeah, it is.” You turned to face her. Sharp green eyes smiled at you. 

“I gotta say, I haven’t been to a lot of nightclubs but I can already tell that this is relatively high end.”

“Amber tells me you’re an architect.”

“Well, studying to be one.”

“That’s cool.”

“It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. There’s a lot of math involved.”

“Not a big fan?”

“It’s not my favorite subject.”

“Here, here.” You raised your unopened bottle and she toasted with her peach soda. “I despise mathematics.”

Amber laughed. “Really? I thought you’d eat it up for sure.”

“Math is not as fascinating as chemistry. Or biology.” 

“I’ve been meaning to ask, but what kind of things do you do for fun? Eve and I have been itching for a girls’ night.”

You opened your mouth to reply but the lights dimmed and the multi-colored lasers focused on the stage.

A young man with green hair and studded leather pants announced into the mic, “Ladies, gentlemen and dear nonbinaries; friends and enemies, congrats on finishing the first Hell Week of the year!”

The two girls beside you cheered with the crowd. Not one for screaming, you opted to clap your hands.

“We got a lot of great performers lined up today, folks. Starting off strong, we present–Indigo Muse!”

Your peers erupted into applause.

The black velvet curtains behind him parted, revealing Mark and his band. 

The guy behind the drums lifted his sticks and began the count, “Three, two–”

Your ears perked at the familiar guitar riff–and soon, the entire floor was dancing.

I’m on my way, but I don’t know

What to do or where to go

Despite being the bassist, Mark was the lead singer and of course, he had the voice of an angel.

You felt your back being pushed and your arms getting pulled.

Eve yelled behind you, “Come on!”

“Let’s dance.” Amber dragged you off your stool. 

“Wait, I don’t–”

The two were stronger than they looked and you found yourself standing in the middle of the dance floor, getting squished by varied-smelling bodies.

I’m so nervous, I feel sick

I hope I don’t come off like a jerk

You gripped hard on your lemon lime, trying not to vomit.

You lifted your chin and found Mark’s eyes on you. 

I went all out, I washed my hair

I searched and found some clean underwear

There was that gaze again, like you were the only thing worth focusing on in the whole room.

It was too much.

She’s so hot, I can’t resist

I don’t know what I’ll do if she gives me that first kiss

Suddenly feeling extra thirsty, you tried to open your soda, but the condensation made your hand slip. The bottle dropped to the floor and a stray leg kicked it away.

“Crap.” Your two dance partners were too preoccupied to notice you crawling away.

“Excuse me, excuse me! Sorry!” You braved through stiletto heels and heavy boots. The smart thing to do was to get a new soda, but you didn’t want to be responsible for someone slipping on the bottle and causing a domino effect of fallen dancers and a really busy ER.

The bottle hit the legs of a nearby sofa, finally stopping.

You sighed in relief, but just as you approached forward, a girl bumped into you and dropped her bottle.

She rubbed her head. “Ow… Sorry.”

“I’m fine.” 

You picked up both drinks and stared at them. Huh. Both lemon lime. Both unopened.

“Here.” You gave her one randomly.

“Thanks. Sorry again for, uh, falling on top of you.”

“No harm done.”

She grinned and walked away, her long blonde ponytail bouncing with each step as she disappeared into the sea of people.

You reached inside your jacket for a wet wipe and cleaned the soda bottle from top to bottom. 

You twisted the cap open and the system dinged just as you realized–

Shit.

***

Mark didn’t stop looking even when you did. He half-expected you to email with some generic excuse like a relative in the hospital or a dead grandparent, so seeing you here, in the flesh, was a win in his book.

He was happy to see you all dressed up. He couldn’t wait to ask the story behind every pin on your jacket. Would you actually get giddy like you did during philosophy debates? Would your face remain deadpan? Would you lose your patience and get mad?

His well-practiced singing never faltered as he watched you weave through the crowd. 

What were you doing?

They already reached ⅔ of the song when you stopped near a sofa to wipe your soda clean.

He recalled applause and his team patting his back. The emcee approached him while he saw you suddenly burst into a panicked sprint from across the room.

“Mark? Hey, dude?”

“Sorry, I need to use the restroom.” He shrugged off his strap and swiftly put down his bass.

The emcee pointed his thumb behind him. “There’s a staff only wash over–”

Mark leaped off the stage and went the other way.

The emcee glanced at his bandmates, who could only shrug.

Mark did his best to dash towards the restrooms, but with this many people he couldn’t blitz his way recklessly.

By the time he reached the girls’ toilets, he had calmed down enough to try and knock first, but he heard screaming and he burst through the door with a kick.

“Princess!”

He froze, and so did you, and so did the large guy you were hitting with a mop. Beneath that football player-shaped guy was a blonde girl crying on the floor. Her blouse was ripped open and Mark could see red handprints around her throat.

The bastard recovered from shock earlier and swung at you. Your legs faltered and you hit the sink with a loud thud.

Mark didn’t breathe–he didn’t think–

all he saw was red.

“You like hitting girls, huh?”

THUNK

“What about me, tough guy?”

THUNK

“Come on!”

THUNK

“Fight back, asshole!”

“Mark–”

“Fight back–”

“Mark.” Cold, clammy palms covered his cheeks. 

Clear eyes grounded him. “Stop.”

“Princess?”

You gave him a small smile. “We’re okay now.” 

Something cool and wet touched his knuckles. He looked down and saw you wiping away the blood. 

He glanced back at you and saw the early signs of a shiner. He used his free hand to cradle that side of your face. “He hurt you.”

“I’m not the victim here.” You used your mouth to gesture behind him.

The blonde girl was unconscious, but you had draped your jacket over her torso.

Mark swallowed. “Did he–”

You shook your head. “I arrived just when he pushed her down. She’ll be… she’ll remember this night, but she’s one of the luckier ones.”

“Luckier, huh.”

You frowned. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. It just stinks that this is what we consider lucky.”

You silently finished wiping the blood from his knuckles and threw them inside a ziplock bag.

Mark cocked an eyebrow. “You… carry ziplock bags with you?”

“You’ll never know.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “I saw you run here from the stage.”

“You got good eyes.”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, I got better instincts.” He met your gaze. “How did you know what was about to happen?”

You showed him a bottle of lemon lime soda inside a bigger ziplock bag. “She and I accidentally switched bottles. They were both unopened at first glance, but when I twisted the cap, it was loose.”

He examined the container.

“Oh, and it didn’t fizz.”

“What?”

“The soda didn’t fizz. A loose cap is one thing, but then add the fact that it didn’t fizz?”

“You pieced that together fast. I would’ve just thought that it was an old bottle.”

You grinned. “I’ve been told that I’m something of a genius.”

“Are you?”

“No.”

He chuckled. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, surprising him.

“You’re asking me? I’m not the victim here,” he parroted your words back to you.

“That didn’t stop you from worrying about me.” Your eyebrows furrowed. “Are you okay, Mark?”

You put your hand over his clean knuckles. 

His breath hitched. 

You were close enough to–

He heard groaning behind him and you pulled back, standing up.

“Hey,” he heard you speak to the blonde girl. “Do you remember where you are? It’s okay. You’re safe, it’s all right, the police are on their way.”

He heard crying as he looked down at the man whose face was now unrecognizable.

He looked at his freshly wiped fingers.

“You’re okay.” 

He then turned around and saw your shaking hands comfort the weeping girl on the floor.

Mark clenched his fists.

***

[Affection: 44%. Darkening: 15%.]

You stared at the pink and black bars while the paramedic cleaned your wounds.

Amber was in tears, holding your hand and apologizing for not paying more attention, despite your insistence that this was nobody else’s fault except the criminal who was currently on his way to the ER.

Eve said she would go check up on Mark. The system informed you that they were conversing on the roof.

The blonde girl, Ariel, was giving her statement to the cops. When she was finished, she walked over to you and surprised you with a hug. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

Unsure what to do, you awkwardly patted her head. “No problem. Anyone would have done the same.”

“I’m sorry about messing up your jacket.”

“Eh, I needed a new one.”

She and Amber laughed.

Ariel stepped back. “Thank you.”

She nodded at Amber and then joined a female officer inside a police car.

Amber’s phone chirped and she squeezed your hand. “You hungry? Eve and Mark want to eat nachos.”

“I didn’t know Eve and Mark were close.”

Amber blinked. She then waved her hand. “No, no, well, yes, they are close, but not like that.”

“Then like what?”

“Well, apparently, they work at the same place. I still don’t know what they actually do, but they see each other occasionally. Eve’s taken though. Some guy named Rex.”

“I see.” For some reason, your heart felt lighter.

***

“Amber said they’re good for nachos,” Eve said, putting away her phone.

Mark stayed quiet as he stared at his hands. You told him to wash them thoroughly but he can still feel the stain on him. 

Eve walked closer. “You did good. You saved them.” She stopped talking, but Mark knew that tone. 

He hated it because it meant she had something else to say, something annoying. “But…?” 

“...but you should’ve held back.”

“He was a rapist.”

“Yes, and I hate him, too, but he’s also human. If you kept going the way you did you would’ve killed him!”

Mark paused. 

He was brought back inside that tiny rest room. Before the police arrived, the staff nurse offered to take Ariel inside the attached clinic for treatment. You reassured them that you would follow, and when it was just you and Mark, you locked the door, walked over to Ariel’s attacker and stomped down on his crotch; hard enough that Mark actually winced, hard enough that he heard squishing noises when you lifted your foot.

Face blank, you said to him, “If they ask, tell them it was self-defense.”

He almost laughed. Hearing that was liberating.

He wondered if Eve would have approved. Eve wasn’t a goody-two shoes, but she drew hard lines when it came to crime-fighting. Excessive force and torture were something she balked at.

“I recognize that guy, y’know,” Mark mumbled. “I saved a different woman a few months ago.” In addition to being a prized player at the university, he was part of a powerful frat, a legacy. “I will never forget that smug face of his when the judge let him free.” 

“That sucks.”

Mark sneered. That’s all Eve ever says. “If only I–”

“If only, what? If only you killed him? You’re better than that.”

Mark could hear his mother’s voice echo from the back of his mind: “You’re better than him.”

He shot to his feet and turned towards the door.

“We aren’t done here.”

“I think we are,” he snapped back and swung open the rooftop door.

“Oh.”

You were standing right in front of him. “Hi,” you squeaked.

“Hi.” He flashed you his signature smile. “Missed me already? I thought we were meeting at the restaurant?”

“I just needed some fresh air, I didn’t think there was anybody here, sorry. I’ll leave.”

Eve interrupted you, “No, it’s fine. We’re done.” 

She gave Mark a look and then smiled at you. “You good?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll see you later.”

Mark held the door, stepped to the side and made a sweeping motion with his arm, like a doorman welcoming guests. 

“You really like roofs,” you noted, strolling towards the railing. “Do you enjoy looking down at the world?”

“You make me sound like a megalomaniac.”

“Your words, not mine.” You rest your elbows on the guardrail. 

Mark joined and you uttered to him, “I have a confession.”

His heart stopped for a moment. “What?”

“When you were punching that guy, I was really tempted to let you beat him to death.”

“Oh.”

You eyed him and he quickly added, “–kay. Okay. I see. So why didn’t you?”

“I was worried about you. You didn’t look like yourself.”

He guiltily lowered his head. “Sorry for scaring you.”

You let out a loud Ha! “You don’t scare me, not even when you had blood all over you.” You glanced down at the city. “What I meant was that you seemed to be in a trance. I didn’t want you to wake up and realize you killed someone in your sleep. That would suck.”

This time, Mark let himself laugh.

***

He was laughing.

Jesus, what a psycho. He almost killed someone and he was laughing?

He really was destined for villainy. 

[Affection: 49%. Darkening: 16%.]

You were supposed to pretend to love someone like this? For how long? And how many times before you were free? How many more horrible things did you have to experience and witness?

Mark’s brown eyes widened. “Princess?”

“Hm?”

“Are you–”

You turned away from him and brought a shaking hand to your face. “I’m all right, I promise.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, you felt his arms slowly, almost hesitantly, stretch around your shoulders. 

Permitting this moment of weakness, you leaned your head on his chest. 

His arms tightened, folding over you protectively. “It’s okay, princess. You’re safe.”

You shook your head, because he was awful and kind and confusing and he had no idea what he was saying.

[Ding. Affection: 52%. Darkening: 20%.]

taglist: @weponxwrites @ratkidcalledallie @qxuanii @lilacoaks @gluttonousriceflour @phisen @sleepyzzz3

Disclaimer: The images used in this post do not belong to writerclaire. They were lifted from the following sources:

Invincible flying

Alternate Invincibles

CHAPTER 7: My mama done tol' me a man…  Series Masterlist

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

MAIN MASTERLIST

Any questions for the author? Ask here.

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

prev | next

Welcome back! Don't forget to hydrate and tend to your Moojito.

On breakfast today is Mister, who has a high enough level in both COOKING and FITNESS to make us a protein plate! After yesterday's party, the pixels will likely need a boost. Mister being in his usual sans shirt state also means that we can collect our daily flag.

Does Tumblr have a loyalty program? I feel like I should qualify for a discount of some kind by now.

I'm pretty sure that you're meant to avoid putting all of the seasoning into the oven...

The siren song of food soon calls everyone downstairs, and there's a lot of bonding and good humour over breakfast. Delphine and Pauline are all but joined at the hip, and have a truly lovely friendship.

Spencer, you're a brat. But you're also a very nice looking brat.

(I make fun of Spencer a lot, but as well as being NOSY, he's GOOD and COMPASSIONATE traited. And often autonomously went to comfort Lilac during the first round, when she was a little out of sorts.)

As their shirtless tax for the day, Caden and Mister clean up the kitchen (Tiago avoided this as his pelt of majesty is just enough to confuse Tumblr) . Although to be fair, Caden would likely have done the dishes anyway.

Mister, please. No more CLAIMING TO BE A CRIMINAL MASTERMIND interactions. Pauline's even considering readopting her VAMPIRE life state just so she can put you to sleep and give us a reprieve 😅

(After yesterday I went into his CAS and removed 'MISCHIEF' as a like, plus added 'DECEPTION' as a dislike, so I'm not sure why he's still doing this so often gasdhshgahgdsh)

Spencer attempts to offer some friendly advice, saying that as a GOOFBALL pixel himself, he's not claiming to be a criminal overlord every other sentence. Maybe Mister could vary his act a little - a jump scare here and there, or even incorporate a MEME or two?

Memes really aren't so bad, agrees Lilac. They're almost funny in a so-bad-they're-good way? Being the southern gentlemanly type that he is, Mister assures her that he'll consider it - while having no intention of the sort.

Spencer, where are you off to?

Oh, I see. Also it clearly was a very good kiss? I denied the self discovery as always, but that will be five points to Spencer.

Why, hey there, Tiago.

At least he has his fruit loops to keep him warm. And look - another five points to Spencer.

Awww! Caden has the WHIM to become friends with Pauline. They do some cloud gazing together. That up there though, is that someone looking down at them - watching, if you will? Nah, couldn't be.

Back inside, Lilac and Spencer think they've made some headway with Mister. Little do they know...

I agree, Tiago. Memes are looking pretty good right about now.

tbc

@mdshh @changingplumbob @igglemouse

@invisiblequeen @akitasimblr @simsfvr

[salty-an-disco]

If you don’t mind can I ask what the backstory and extra scene for contrarian as a scarlet hallow town resident is I’m curious

ofc!!! thank you so much for asking, actually, I was just worrying whether it's a bit too self-indulgent to even post oakskskskssjjs (ridiculous, I know, but my brain can be pretty ridiculous at times)

SO!!

Contra is a local whose parents died in some accident (maybe something to do with the mines) when they were very young, and they kept running off every time someone tried to deliver them to child services.

Eventually, Duke took pity on this kid who keeps stealing from the diner and from squirrels in the forest and took them in. They weren't the easiest kid to deal with, but Duke's stubborn and was intent on teaching this kid some manners and how to survive on their own since no one else's willing to help them out.

cue some bonding and genuine family moments together with Bo and Duke's wife, and Contra goes from purposely difficult troublemaker to mildly annoying helper.

fast-forward to Pearlenne's death and a week away from her funeral, in comes Hiro Scarlet, Tabitha's lost cousin.

They adopted the name 'Contrarian' cuz it's what the townsfolk kept calling them all the time; but I think they could eventually reveal to Hiro that their name is 'Mikha' (was supposed to be Mikhael (or maybe 'Mickaelle', no one is sure what their agab was anymore), but the computer must've either eaten the last bit, or the doctor simply forgor).

When heading to town from the state, you can hear a flute being played somewhere deeper in the forest. And if you decide to follow it, you get to meet the town troublemaker themself :D

some more notes about their relationship with other townsfolk

– Stella: was often the 'cryptid' she was hunting for her videos, which kinda became a staple of her channel that sometimes the cryptid is just a scrawny fella playing a prank on her. Stella takes it all in stride, and even compliments Contra on their inventiveness and creativity, often telling them they could get big by making their own pranks channel (which they often reply with, "Nah. Too much work :p"). Contra was a tad bit frustrated when Stella incidentally embarrassed Duke on her channel, and then continuously refuses to take his word seriously; actually stopped pranking her for her channel because of that, which Stella just thinks it's them trying to give her and her viewers a sense of security before striking.

– Kaneeka: she's glad they got a home in the Holler, and all, but they're not exactly friendly. Polite, at best, as she still resents all the pranks they'd play on their school (when they didn't even go there themself!!!), and how they would always enable Stella's reckless stunts, and are doing the same now to Miles, who thinks they're so much cooler than any of the other young adults here. Not as much of a beef as she has with Tabitha, but would still rather to avoid their path and that they did the same to her.

– Oscar: never really crossed paths all that much, as they rarely went to the library, but did see them occasionally stop by to pet Pixel or on their way to do some delivery for Duke. Sure, sometimes their pranks go a little too far, but they can't be all that bad, right?

– Avery: as soon as Avery learned of another enby in this rural southern town, they immediately went to pay Duke's farm a visit, where they found Contra hanging from a tree pretending to be sentinel. They quickly bonded and started hanging out, and even dated for a couple of months before the novelty just kinda faded away, so they broke it off before resentment could build and continued on as friends. Contra still goes to the diner every so often to hear Avery's new synths and is a frequent appearance in their parties.

– Reese: one reckless and impulsive friend in her son's life is more than enough, so Doctor Kelly always tried to keep Contra from getting too close. Which only made them more intent on befriending Reese even after they got 'sick'. They eventually just lost interest tho, as staying in someone's room while they're too weak to move is pretty boring (and depressing), so they just kinda forgot about him and didn't look back. The Doc see it as a blessing.

– Tabitha: "Who the hell is that?" (despite their carefree and careless attitude, they stay clear from the mines)

[tellmeallaboutit]

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger 

Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

AO3

Chapter 2

The next day, during your lunch break, you made another attempt to persuade Raphael to take his clothes off. The clock struck noon; your private laptop was on the right side of your desk, while your work laptop was on the left, Teams open and your mouse ready to show signs of activity from time to time.

The sun was shining through the wide open window, children playing outside. Idyllic. Nothing sinister could be happening in broad daylight with those happy sounds in the background. The horror movies told you so. Except for Midsommar.

Well, screw Midsommar, then. This isn’t Sweden.

"All right, I'm going to set some ground rules here," you said to the loading screen. "I can be as creepy as I want to be to you, because you're just a bunch of pixels, but you can't do anything creepy to me, because I'm a human being. Got that? Good."

The sound of your voice made you feel braver.

As you heard the familiar sinister 'you-let-the-villain-win-bad-player' music in the background, you covered your eyes with your hands and peered through splayed fingers.

Then he appeared. Just as you had wished. Perfectly naked, with a stereotypical video game six-pack and just the right amount of body hair. The orange lighting made his skin glow, and his flaccid penis, like that of the game's generic male model, vanished from sight as he strode closer.

Your ears pricked up to listen to the scripted monologue you knew by heart, watching (waiting?) for any hiccups or new animations, the YouTube app on your phone playing the identical scene for comparison.

Everything happened exactly as it should, word for word, save for the speaker’s nudity.

All good. You breathed a sigh of relief and spread your fingers wider to admire Raphael a little better. 

Same as always. Handsome and charming and completely imaginary, which, now that you thought about it, was the biggest part of his charm. 

"Ta-ta... for now," Raphael's signature line echoed through the room.

"Bravo, Raphael," you praised the screen. "You've done nothing creepy. You have earned your title of Archdevil Supreme."

After waiting for a response that never came, you laughed off your silliness and shook your head. Your laptop was overheating, giving off a slight synthetic smell. Should have upgraded a long time ago. Just need to put enough money aside.

"OK, screenshots," you said. "I wanted to take some screenshots. Do you mind, Raphael? Can I have your consent? They’ll help recruit more followers for you, my liege."

Your phone vibrated. The FaceID gave you a preview of the Discord messages from Queen-of-the-Bored, one of the few Raphaelites you'd actually spoken to directly and felt like you kinda sorta knew.

queen-of-the-bored: ngl that was some really funny joke, we spent the whole night trying to recreate it :-D queen-of-the-bored: you sounded legit worried over that voice message tho haha you: it was legit. check the reddit thread queen-of-the-bored: which thread

Ok, let me google that for you. You typed in the same search words as yesterday, "Raphael naked mod April prank," clicked on the thread from yesterday, and skimmed through the comments.

“nah not joking there is this naked mod for teenage mutant ninja""

“all dongs appeared MASSIVE on April’s first”

Scrolling further, you realized that was not the correct Raphael - it's Raphael the Turtle, not Raphael the Devil. Why was there so much NSFW content about him? What did people see in turtles?

You quickly corrected your search to "Raphael BG3 naked mod April prank," but it didn’t bring back any relevant results. So, you changed it to "last twenty four hours" just to be thorough.

Didn’t help. Nothing. You were the only to be called a naughty little mouse. The special one.

queen-of-the-bored: which thread dude??? you: my bad it was the turtle queen-of-the-bored: ??? queen-of-the-bored: I am slowly getting worried about you haha

Next step? Contact the mod developer directly? What if they have no idea what you're talking about?

Then what? What were the alternative theories? You've been hacked and doxxed to madness for that one Twitter post that got people waving pitchforks at you? 

There you go, you were scared again. Daytime, sun shining and children playing outside, but there you were, alone in your flat, scared again.

You took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "All right, I understand, Mr Archdevil Supreme. No screenshots. I'll uninstall the mod and I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour."

You couldn't bear to see Raphael's face on the screen again so you hit ctrl alt delete instead of Escape and stared blankly at the Task Manager.

Next, you uninstalled the mod that had caused all this trouble. Then you went to Tumblr and removed the reblog of Raphael in a cat playsuit with the tag "my poor miau miau". Then you deleted your bookmarks on AO3. Your Twitter account was beyond repair, so you deleted it altogether.

None of these actions made you feel any better. You grabbed a quick cup of shrimp noodles, but eating it only made you feel worse. As you tasted the sodium on your tongue, you came to a realisation: what you needed was to go the fuck outside.

You had been stuck in your flat and home office since the start of the pandemic, chronically online. Online work, online colleagues, online friends, who was the last real person you saw, talked to and hugged?

Your mum, probably. 

Oh yes, no wonder you were going mad. You need to get out there and meet some real people. You opened Discord, quickly scrolled past the sketch of Tav giving Raphael head, and typed a message: you needed to touch grass.

queen-of-the-bored: well there is Comic-Con this weekend  you: this is NOT touching grass, this is burning it queen-of-the-bored: true you: besides not going alone queen-of-the-bored: maybe Raph will keep you company 😈 

What? Such a strange thing to say. Or was it? Who the hell was that behind the screen anyway? Apparently someone called Sammy from Ohio. Supposedly. Wasn’t she the one who recommended this mod?

She was.

Come on, you're just letting your paranoia get the best of you.

queen-of-the-bored: oh BTW I found THE hottest Raph smut  queen-of-the-bored: mind the tags it's so hot but soooooo fucked up queen-of-the-bored: just read it trust me thank me later

Who the hell were you, Sammy from Ohio, Korilla? You put the phone down and started pacing around your small flat. It was not much to pace around, only forty-two square meters. 

At least you rent a flat in a building with other people and not some house at the edge of the forest. Strangers live below you, above you and on either side of you. They don't know you and you don't know them... but they were there, just in case...

Just in case.

"You know what?" you said to your computer. "I need a break. I need to focus on my mental health. Self-care, Raphael. I'm not playing with you. For now".

The moment you finished speaking, your phone lit up again with another notification. This time it was an email. You made a mental note to start managing your notifications better.

Did you enjoy your Devil Dick © - Natural Red experience? We know you will be back for more 😈 Check out the new...

What the fuck? Oh no, no, click away and make a mental note to never order from Bad Dragon again with customer satisfaction emails like this. It's borderline harassment. You ordered from them ONCE, as a joke, just to see what ridges might feel like.

Not as good as the smut had promised you,

Private. Private stuff. Between you and your bed drawer. Between you and your browser. God, how much stuff you have in your browser history. You should have used incognito mode more often.

Would that have helped? 

"That was low, Raphael," you muttered. "Or is it Haarlep today?"

You glanced around your room before angling your computer screen towards the wall, then retrieved the Devil Dick © from its hideaway in your bedside drawer. Your fingers grazed over the silicon ridges as you swiftly stashed it away in a box beneath the bed.

"If you must know, it was too big for me. Flattered?"

Crawling out from under the dusty bed, you looked up and realized for the first time that anyone in the building could easily peep into the flat if they tried hard enough or cared enough to do so.

Enough is enough.

You need to hydrate, you need to eat some vegetables, you need to start jogging again and you definitely... you definitely need to go out and talk to some real people. Maybe it's time to get back on Bumble and try your luck again. Who knows, it might actually work this time.

He wouldn't like that.

Where did that thought just come from? He wouldn't like it, who the hell cares what some imaginary devil thinks.

Standing up straight, you pointed a finger at the screen in front of you.

"Raphael, just so we are clear, you and I: I really like you. I do PR for you every day for free. You don't have to scare me to get my attention. You should appreciate me and be nice to me. I'm the best agent you'll ever have.”

Having made your point, you put on your running shoes and AirPods. It brought back memories of all the times you had jogged through the nearby park. Afterwards you'd sit on the bench and eat an ice-cream, watching couples, happy and glowing, watching families with children, happy and stressed, watching people living their lives in a reality parallel to yours, and then you'd come home and go into a reality parallel to theirs.

The AirPods picked up right where they left off last time.

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear

I wanna fucking tear you apart

You removed the AirPods from your earlobes and exhaled. This wasn’t Raphael's fault. This is She Wants Revenge, you have listened to it a thousand times. You knew the lyrics, they hadn't changed. 

You can't even listen to music anymore. Pull yourself together. 

Get some vitamins from the pharmacy.

Touch some goddamn grass.

***

You stuck to your digital and physical diet until the weekend, and as a reward, nothing happened. No oddly timed emails, no strange messages, no random phone calls. Maybe it was your pitch talk or the vitamins you started taking, but either way, Raphael was on his best behavior, and so were you. 

No Tumblr, no AO3. Didn't even touch Steam. Got into a highbrow podcast about the Roman Empire.

You set a new personal record for days without 'self-indulgence', as Raphael would put it, although that wasn't really the intention. Something always seemed to interrupt - whether it was the loud hum of the fridge (which was always obnoxious) or the flickering light in the hallway (which had been broken for over a week). 

By Friday, you had finally finished the work projects you had been putting off for months. The job wasn't too bad, but it hadn't been any fun for years, if it ever had been. You did the bare minimum to get the paycheck and keep the job, and your employer kept the paycheck at the bare minimum to keep you. If there was anything else you could do, you would do something else.

Still, this was probably the most productive week you had in years. You scrubbed your flat from top to bottom twice and cleared your wardrobe of clothes that no longer fit.

You were proud of yourself.

Gradually your sense of security began to return. You tried not to dwell too much on the incident with the naughty little mouse; if you didn't think about it, it almost felt like it hadn't happened.

On Friday, you plucked up the courage to play BG3 again, wandered through Baldur's Gate, avoiding the House of Hope for the time being, had a few fights, played the graveyard scene with Astarion (daring, but a small part of you hoped it would make Raphael jealous enough to come out again), and shut it down. 

Nothing out of the ordinary.

You hadn't planned to go to Comic-Con. For one thing, it was on the other side of the city, in the business district of the convention centre, so it would take at least an hour to get there. Secondly, going alone just felt... weird.

It was not until Friday night that a little voice in your head started to whisper, "Why not? Maybe you'll meet some like-minded people”. Make some friends you can actually touch (not in a creepy way). 

It's a better chance than endlessly swiping on Bumble.

Maybe you'll meet...

Neil Newbon. If you can get past the hordes of fangirls. Andrew Wincott. No, Andrew Wincott wouldn't be there; you'd checked beforehand. To be honest, hearing his voice might have been too much for your psyche at that moment.

So you decided to go. You went, and it was as fun as you had imagined it would be - that is, hardly any. The convention hall was huge and crowded, rows and rows of stalls, crowds and crowds of people. Live panel discussions, cosplayers, flashing lights, bright colors, chatter, laughter, very loud, very lively.

Raphael wouldn't last a minute in that chaos.

"Hell is other people," you thought to yourself, quoting Sartre. If you ever met Raphael, you'd quote Sartre to him too. He must know that you read intelligent books and not just fanfiction. 

Some people might be comfortable going to events and eating alone in restaurants, but not you. It's even worse being the odd one out in a group of odd ones. How come all the others had someone to take along? Where did they find all those people in this godforsaken city?

You talked to a few people and a few people talked to you. Nothing really took off. Your mind was elsewhere, to be fair. You were looking for something in the crowd. 

Someone.

It was absurd, yes, but so was what happened this week with the mod. You had met a few Raphael cosplayers, three at least, but they were...

Well, of course they weren't him. But they did a great job with the clothes and the hair and the make-up, and one had really great prosthetic horns, and you touched them and admired them and praised that particular Raphael for all his hard work in creating them.

They were real people, not video game characters that had come to life, and neither were you. You looked down at your jeans, at your thighs, and thought you should start jogging again, and felt even less comfortable in your own skin. 

Then Neil Newbon came along and things quickly became too chaotic for you.

You decided to take a break and walked down the street until you came across a cosy café - none of that generic chain stuff, but something that tried hard to be authentic with pretty flowers in the windows.

Sitting alone at a table for two, you looked down at your phone and opened the Discord chat because you came here to talk to some real people.

In the main chat, there was a heated debate about whether devils are allowed to torture mortals into signing contracts. Both sides presented arguments based on lore, edition contradictions, past precedents and personal conviction. 

A man's voice interrupted you as you typed your own very elaborated opinion of hellish law. "Excuse me, may I?" he asked, his words slightly muffled by the AirPods.

"Sure," you replied with practiced friendliness, not even looking up. That was always your default answer. It's not like you can say no to this kind of request anyway. 

People ask and do a lot of things out of politeness. That was precisely why you took the AirPods out of your ears.

The moment you lifted your eyes to meet the man's, you learned the true meaning of the word 'jumpscare'. Your body jerked upwards, the table shook and the coffee cup tumbled - narrowly missing Raphael.

Raphael. 

Not a man who looked like Raphael, not a man who was dressed like him - Raphael. 

You weren't sure if you made any sound or uttered any words. You probably yelped.

What you did do for sure was gawk.

His skin tone identical; hair slicked back just right; eyes uncannily accurate in hue and shape - down to every wrinkle. A perfectly realistic rendering. Not the uncanny valley type, no, perfectly believable. This is exactly what he would look like if he were real and swapped his fantasy clothes for a business suit.

So this is what it feels like to go completely insane.

Very banal, actually. You are having a psychotic breakdown and no one is even looking at you, except for an imaginary devil.

"Oh my, my apologies," Raphael said as he quickly grabbed napkins to mop up the spreading lake of coffee on the table. "I did not mean to scare you."

Oh, but he did, very much. You could not breathe, your chest encased in an iron brace of fear. It's you who needs to apologise, and apologise fast, and apologise a lot, and beg for mercy. Especially for liking the Twitter art of him being spit-roasted between Yurgir and Haarlep. 

If you only knew... you would never have clicked on it... absolutely never... all those posts you wrote... 

"Raphael?" you managed to squeak out. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

This must be how a deer feels in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

He looked at you, very sincere confusion etched across his handsome face. "Excuse me?"

You drew in a shaky breath, your nostrils flaring as you tried to catch a whiff of cherries under the aroma of fresh coffee, not caring how absurd you appeared. Yes? No? Or was that strawberry jam on his croissant? Have your senses gone haywire? Your mind certainly has.

"You're... you're here to cosplay Raphael?" 

The thought tumbled out of your mouth before it had time to fully form in your head. It was the only explanation that made sense... It didn't, but it made more sense than all the others put together.

Raphael moved closer, pulled up a chair and asked, amused: "I beg your pardon, I'm here to do what to whom?"

The voice. The voice was the same. Andrew Wincott's voice. The man had simply stolen his voice. Or had the man stolen it from him? The movements, the mannerisms, the facial expressions. This man could not be Raphael because...

Well, because this man was real. As real as you were. 

"Raphael," you explained. "From the video game. Are you here to cosplay... to play... Raphael?"

The man gave you a look as if questioning your sanity, and rightfully so. You were also sweating bullets - could he see the damp patches under your hoodie? You pressed your arms against your sides; wouldn't want him noticing.

"I'm hardly an actor," Raphael replied with a polite smile, "although there was a time in my youth when I entertained such ambitions."

He chuckled lightly and took a leisurely sip of his coffee. 

"I'm here to enjoy my espresso, nothing more. I... have never been particularly fond of..." he added with the disdain of a typical middle-aged man, "... video games.”

You had no response for that because Raphael wouldn't be into video games either; that much was believable.

"My office is across the street," he said, pointing towards the office complex opposite you. "Precisely there."

The golden sign on the building across from you, d'Avergni & Partners, told you nothing, except that Raphael had an office job and an office space and a desk and all the things that the devil shouldn’t have because the devil invented them to torture the others.

Raphael was dressed like he had just stepped out of a board meeting. A three-piece slate gray tailored suit, white shirt peeking out from underneath, silk tie and matching pocket square. Of all the modern Raphael AUs, you preferred the Professor one, you voted for it, you had Sucharide’s fic bookmarked. The Professor was more, ugh...

Safe.

As for you, you were wearing a hoodie with your university on it. A clean hoodie, but a hoodie nonetheless. What the hell else would you be wearing to Comic Con? You didn't do your hair. Well, putting it in a ponytail is not doing your hair. Why did you not do your hair? 

"I know, I know, you must be wondering why anyone would toil on a weekend," Raphael continued. That was the last thing you were wondering. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."

"Wicked?" you echoed. You looked at the people in the cafe, sure they were staring at the both of you, but they weren't.

"Oh," he chuckled lightly, "it's just an expression – 'No rest for the wicked.' You've never heard it before?"

"Of course I have," you said, momentarily embarrassed. "Never mind...sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Raphael raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I should be the one to apologise for startling you. May I offer you another cup of... ah, what was that... cappuccino? After twelve? Tsk-tsk, young lady".

Not a single modern man could ever manage to say the words "tsk-tsk, young lady" as charmingly. That was Raphael.

"No bother, I can get one myself," you said quickly, about to stand up. 

He raised his hand slightly and put it down to halt your movement, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you, and if he had, if you had felt the skin of his skin, he would have felt more real and you would have died on the spot from a bursting heart.

"I have no doubt about that. But may I treat you? It would be my absolute pleasure”.

Pleasure. The way he said the word was straight obscene. You couldn't handle the word 'pleasure' coming from a man who had been responsible for more than half your orgasms in the last few months.

So in your daze, you mumbled: "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Raphael stood up and walked over to the barista. She acknowledged him, so that's one point for him being real and you not hallucinating. Not only did she acknowledge him but she flashed him a goofy grin - clearly smitten.

Of course she is.

You have to take a picture of him. How do you take a picture of someone without their consent without being a total creep?

You don't. It's in the fucking definition; you can't. But you should. Maybe you'll open your camera roll and see someone completely different, and then you'll know it's time to call for mental health services.

Your phone was buzzing with messages, which you quickly swiped away and went straight to the camera. You took a picture of him from behind while he ordered you a coffee. The barista gave you a “fucking weirdo” look. 

Fuck you, you thought, you have no idea what I am going through right now. Then you switched to the camera roll and checked to see if the photo reflected what you saw.

A broad, fit back of a very attractive middle-aged man with lush brown hair, paying for coffee with cash.

You couldn't decide whether this made you feel better or worse.

When Raphael returned with your cup, you had something for him too. "This is the character I was talking about," you said, a screenshot of virtual Raphael ready on your screen.

Anyone who saw the screenshot would say, "Who motion-captured me?" 

Not Raphael. He barely glanced before shrugging and handing your phone back. "Hmm, I see some resemblance, I guess."

Resemblance? What fucking resemblance? There was no resemblance; he WAS Raphael! You were about to argue but he beat you to it: "Why? Were you hoping to meet this...Raphael?" 

His voice dropped an octave and he looked at you intently. He was flirting - openly, unashamedly.

"I...I was," you stammered out. "He's my favourite character."

Brilliant, brilliant line. Dear diary, today I wanted to meet Raphael, my favourite character from my favourite game. So much for quoting Sartre.

"Well now, I'm flattered," Raphael purred, causing you to wriggle uncomfortably in your seat. "I do bear some physical likeness."

That was a massive understatement. 

The man had a disarmingly charming smile. You tried to remember if Raphael had ever smiled like that in the game. It was mostly scowls and grins and smirks, but this kind of smile? You didn't think so. You caught a glimpse of yourself in his hazel eyes, and that was not Tav; that was you. Just you.

Not that you were unattractive or anything. Average. Maybe even a little pretty on a good day. You didn't like yourself very much. Then again, most people don't. That's how the beauty industry makes its money. 

You got your share of attention, some, nothing to brag about. Had two boyfriends, it didn't work out, you used to care, now you don't. Certainly never got any attention from men who looked like him.

Why should this man be interested in you, why? Ah, yes. Your soul. He probably wants your soul. Is it worth much at all? Is it worth coming all the way to Earth? You wanted to apologize to him for going through all this trouble just for you.

"So this event in the convention hall down the street..." he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall a forgotten name.

"Comic-Con 2024," you supplied. "It's huge in fandom culture. TV shows, video games, that sort of stuff.”

"Ah. Not my kind of entertainment - or my kind of audience, for that matter," Raphael said with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyeing the “Astarion approves” badge on your backpack.  "It does remind me of a deal I signed recently."

"Deal?" you asked in a weak voice. He nodded. "What deal? With who?"

"With who? No, I meant the Microsoft-Blizzard acquisition". 

Ah, that kind of deal. The words felt so reassuring, so real, the acquisition. Raphael would have no idea about these words. Raphael wouldn't say "Microsoft". You mean the real Raphael. What the hell is a 'real' Raphael again?

For the first time, you let go of a little tension. You took a first sip of your coffee and leaned back slightly in your chair. 

"Actually, I think these acquisitions are really harmful for the industry," you said. 

Why did you have to be so confrontational? You didn't have anything clever to say about such things, so you spoke the truth instead. Bad idea.

"How candid of you to say that. Well, I’ll be just as candid with you: I am indeed a villain." Raphael grinned. "I hope you can forgive me." 

There went your short-lived relaxation, which lasted less than a minute.  Raphael had just looked at you and said "I am a villain". Challenge him. Tell him it's him because, well, it's him. It can only be him. Tell him you know it's him, and then...

And then what?

"Everybody's got a job to do, I guess", you managed to utter the most generic phrase in existence.

"Isn't that so..." Raphael replied, pausing for a moment before finishing the sentence with your name.

You did not introduce yourself to him. You were sure of it. Absolutely sure. 

"How do you know my name?" you asked, half rising from your chair, raising your voice and quickly lowering it again. "I didn't tell you my name. How do you know it?"

Raphael gestured to your phone, which lay on the table screen between the two of you. Your work ID card was tucked away in its transparent case - something you hadn't needed for a while.

It had your first and last name on it.

"I saw it right before my eyes," he explained. "I thought it was a hint."

"It wasn't," you said.

"Oh, another faux pas on my part then," he said. "At this rate, I owe you something to make up for all my many transgressions. Perhaps dinner?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. One of your popular Tumblr posts had been an impassioned rant about how Raphael had promised a similar in-game offer but failed to deliver despite the many times you gave him the Crown.

"I seem to have absolutely terrified you, and that was not my intention. I insist on making it up to you. If you allow me, of course. I don't want to impose. Would you allow me to?"

He looked at you with the intensity of a man admiring a beautiful woman, his shoulders back and chin slightly up, trying to present himself from his best angle - something you've seen men do before, but rarely (if ever) to you. It was as if he could hang on every word that came out of your mouth, simply because he enjoyed watching your lips move. Raphael looked like he was in love, for Christ's sake.

Your cheeks grew warm. 

"Yes," you replied.

He kept silent for a bit, savouring your answer. 

"Splendid. Where might I collect you?"

It took you a moment to realise that he was asking for your address. Your personal address. Shouldn't he know it already, if he was Raphael? You replied as nonchalantly as possible:

"Why don't I give you my number and we can arrange to meet at the center?"

His expression darkened slightly; you've seen this look in the game before.

No, you shouldn't have said that. You wanted him to like you. 

Desperately.

"You don't trust me?" Raphael's voice dropped an octave or two, playful and just a little threatening.

You felt his breath on your face (cherries?) and the next second you stopped feeling your legs. The attraction that had been simmering inside you for months started boiling over.

Breathe. Pretend it's not Raphael. A man came up to you in a coffee shop and asked you if you trusted him in that kind of tone, leaning in like that. You know what the sensible thing to do would be - get up and walk away. And if it really was Raphael, get up and run away. 

You remained seated and stayed. 

"Just, ugh..." was all you managed to get out of the jumbled thoughts in your head; two coherent sentences so far into the conversation, and both of them made you sound like an absolute madwoman. 

Raphael laughed.

"Of course you don't trust me, that's only prudent, and you seem to be quite an intelligent young lady. But just so we are clear, you and I: you have nothing to fear from me. What is that number of yours?"

Quite an intelligent young lady, the words echoed in your mind and you remembered your naughty anonymous Tumblr confession: I would suck every last drop of cum out of him as long as he kept praising me.

God, everything you've read with him in the main role. Double penetration, double vaginal penetration, pet play... you weren't even into half of it. You hoped Raphael didn’t think you actually wanted him to do all of the things you read with you.

You just liked clicking on random links.

"Do you need something to write it down or...?" you asked hesitantly.

"I will remember," he said curtly. “I do not forget things easily”.

You realised that there was something far more frightening than anything that had happened before: that he wouldn't remember, that he would never call you, and that this conversation and this meeting would end there. 

So you carefully enunciated each number, then took a pen from your pocket and wrote it down on a napkin: it seemed romantic in the movies, but your handwriting and the coffee stain made it look like a secret message from the madhouse.

He grinned and tucked the napkin into the pocket of his suit.

He took the last sip of coffee and then took your hand in his. He touched you. His skin was warm and real and soft and everything you had ever imagined, his touch surprisingly tender. 

Your whole body responded to that tiny crumb of affection, viscerally. You hadn't realized how famished you were for a touch until that moment.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed them against yours. His lips were soft too, slightly damp from the coffee.

"I am looking forward to our rendezvous," Raphael murmured against your palm. "Ver much so."

Rendezvous.

In any other situation, a middle-aged man kissing your hand would be downright creepy. But this... this was a fever dream, an illusion, anything but reality. Because there was no way this madness could actually be happening to you.

Was it a bad thing? Was reality ever... this? So unpredictable? So exciting? 

You only snapped out of it when the door closed behind him, but you snapped out hard. You practically threw yourself at the next table, where a group of guys were sitting, their appearance screaming video games - backpacks and scruffy beards, Warhammer-emblazoned T-shirts. 

You grabbed one by the shoulder and hissed urgently: "Guys-guys-guys-guys." Your words came like rapid fire. "Tell me that guy doesn't look exactly like Raphael from Baldur's Gate? That one? On the street behind the window?" 

Damn, you sounded desperate.

"Ah, sorry, never played it," came the nonchalant reply before he turned back to his friends' conversation.

"Baldur's Gate," chimed in another, his face lighting up. "Amazing game. Looks like who?"

"Raphael," you said. "The devil."

The guy laughed, but didn't even look where you were pointing.

"Ah, the two-pump chump?"

You shot a quick glance at Raphael. His eyes met yours through the glass window, and they were cold now; his smile was gone. 

I didn't say that, you pleaded with him in your thoughts. That guy said that. That guy over there. I would never say that.

Your defence of his bed skills stretched from Reddit to Tumblr threads, you argued that Haarlep was slandering him, that Raphael was the best fuck there ever was and you personally vouched for that because you fucked him a thousand times in your head.

"Don't call him that, please," you whispered to the guy. He gave you a confused look when you pointed at Raphael again: "Look at him. The one staring at us. Does he look like him?

Is he real? Do you see him too?

"Ah yes," he admitted with a grin on his face, raising the cup of coffee to his lips, "he sort of does. Yes, he does! Well, I hope he doesn't...oh shit! FUCK!".

The guy's face contorted in pain as he clutched his mouth, jumping, cursing, tears streaming down his face. You could see the skin on his lips reddening and blistering.

"What the fuck?! It's fucking boiling! FUCK! "

The barista rushed over to him, spewing apologies as she tried to handle the situation. You took a step back and glanced at Raphael whose lips were moving subtly - two syllables that matched rhythmically: 'bye-bye' or maybe 'ciao-ciao'. 

It didn't have to be 'ta-ta'. He waved nonchalantly at you.

You waved back.

NEXT: Chapter 3, In Which Larian Introduces The Raphael Romance

[chunkymamatam]

I'm currently having a Vil obsession...do you perchance have any stories about him/any interactions with him? :') <3

-Reena

Yeah one is a really shitty interaction I had with him (which happens to be literally the first interaction we had lmfao) the rest are chill tho

Now, I’m a big bitch and I start this first interaction off by saying this because context is important and I understand that he genuinely wasn’t trying to be a douche but there’s a reason I’m fat and it’s not cuz I eat too much. Actually most times I struggle to eat at all.

Tw: I’m gonna mention my Eating Disorder and medical issues

Story 1:

I was getting signatures for an interest form about possibly starting a cheer team. I was doing this for a friend and I get to the table with Vil, Rook and Epel(Vil insists that they eat together to keep both Rook and Epel at least somewhat in check lmfao) and I was asking if they’d sign and this mf we looks at me and is like “have you tried the Salads here? They’re good and healthy.” Nah cuz wtf bro 😭 I was flabbergasted bro cuz what???

So I look at him, cuz honestly I expect this from mfers that are that conventionally beautiful, and I’m like “you better shut your fucking mouth before I beat that pretty face of yours black and blue and not that it’s any of your god damn business but I love salads. Ever had a Greek salad?” And he shakes his head “You should try them. They’re good. And healthy”

Then that night Malleus asked about it and I told him that Superstar is lucky he didn’t trigger my ED and he needs to be careful who he talks to like that because it’s gonna make someone relapse and really get hurt. Plus it’s those exact comments that made me feel like it was my fault when I was on medication with the side effects of weight gain and literally took my ability to sweat so what I can physically do is now limited. Malleus did NOT like this. Idk what he did but not long after that Vil approached me before classes and apologized. I relayed what I said to Malleus back to him. He genuinely felt bad and didn’t even think about that which is crazy considering his industry.

On a lighter not I asked to use his sewing machine for the cheer outfits and he said yes. Slight push back on the basis of “wouldn’t Crowley order them”

to which I was like “this man can’t even give me adequate housing” LMFAO

He said yeah after that and was like “only if I have final say on the design.” We’ve been pretty close friends since pfff

Story 2:

When the SDC came around and Ace and Deuce got on the team I panicked when the entirety of Pomefiore tried to beat our asses and broke a vase over someone’s head. Vil yelled at me that “that was expensive” BITCH I AINT APOLOGIZING I WAS BEING MAULED BY A BUNCH OF THEATER KIDS 😭😭😭

Vil was so done with me but like everyone else agreed with me so 💀

Story 3:

There was also this one time I was having a breakdown and he was like “oh sweetheart no. I can’t have you going out looking a mess. Let’s clean you up.” And he took me into the room he was in while staying at Ramshackle and did my hair and makeup. I took a picture and posted it to my Magicam (Cater forced me to make one lol). Tell me why his crazy ass fans identified him by his jawline, shoulders and a pixel of his hair???? This wasn’t even in frame enough that reasonably y’all should’ve been able to identify him 😭

It’s an ongoing joke between us now and we just occasionally post pictures of our legs next to each other, maybe I’ll put one leg over his. It’s really funny cuz I posted pictures of us in our Halloween costumes too and it wasn’t even just with him and they were like “You fat bitch you don’t deserve to date him” Now you can tell me I’m being dumb but that is such a massive leap to conclusions 😭😭😭

[monochromaticbeans]

Chapter 1: My End and My Beginning

(3.2k words)

"You’re my end and my beginning…"

"All of Me" ~ John Legend

“Ugh, right now?” Baji groaned, eyes glued to the screen as his thumbs hovered over the controller, half a second away from obliterating the latest pixelated menace. “I’m almost at the boss level. Can’t it wait?”

“Nope. She looks about your age. Go introduce yourself,” Ryoko’s voice cut through the illusion of his game, sharp and undeniable. The controller vanished from his hands with a single swipe, as if by magic—or maybe just maternal authority.

“Seriously?” He sighed deeply, as though the weight of the world—or at least the weight of one really important boss fight—was on his shoulders. “Come on, can’t I just go later?”

“No. Now,” his mother said, in that tone that wasn’t up for discussion.

He dragged himself off the couch, feeling like a condemned man marching to his fate. He stuffed his feet into his sneakers, flung open the front door, and grumbled under his breath. “Be nice,” his mother called after him.

Be nice, he thought. He’d be nice, sure. But fast. Quick. In and out. It was just next door, anyway. How hard could it be?

The door to the neighboring apartment was wide open, held back by a giant cardboard box, the kind that seems to have existed for as long as moving vans have been invented. He peered down toward the parking lot, where a man—red-faced and huffing like a dragon in the middle of a tantrum—was barking orders at movers over a stereo system that looked like it’d seen better days.

“Um, excuse me?”

The voice was soft, like a whisper that hadn’t decided whether it wanted to be heard or not. It made him turn, curious, and there she was: a girl, smaller than him, with long black hair that had two striking white streaks and bangs framing her face. A guitar case hung off her back, and she shifted a box of books—manga, by the look of it—against her hip like it was too heavy, but she wouldn’t admit it.

“You live here?” she asked, her voice steady but quiet, like she was testing the waters. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering there for a second too long. She looked at him, blinking with wide, purple eyes.

He nodded, his eyes drawn back to the white streaks in her hair. It was strange, but not the kind of strange that made you want to look away. It was the kind of strange that made you want to ask why, though he knew better than to do that. His mom would kill him if he asked something rude. He could already picture her glaring, hand raised to smack the back of his head. Not worth it.

“I’m Todawa Hikari,” she said, shifting the box to her other hip and standing just a little taller, as though introducing herself had been rehearsed a hundred times. “What’s your name?”

“Baji Keisuke,” he replied with a grin that revealed little canines just a bit too pointed. “My mom and I live next door.”

She nodded, and there was a beat of silence that stretched just a bit too long, until Baji’s eyes drifted back to the guitar. He jerked his chin toward the case slung over her shoulder. “You play?”

She cocked her head slightly, eyes narrowing with playful sarcasm. “Nah. I just carry it around to look cool.”

For a second, he stared at her, caught off guard—then a snort escaped him. That deadpan delivery was gold. He liked her immediately. “Okay, smartass. So you play guitar and read manga? Pretty cool.” He glanced at the box she was carrying. “What grade are you in?”

“Fifth.”

“No kidding? Me, too.” Without thinking, he grabbed the box from her arms, shifting its weight easily to his side and carrying it to her door. “Wanna walk to school tomorrow?”

She blinked once, then twice, before a smile broke across her face, small but warm. “Sure.”

He grinned again, liking her more by the second. As they waved goodbye and she disappeared back into her apartment, he felt a small surge of pride. That wasn’t so bad. Maybe having a new neighbor will be kinda cool.

Meanwhile, Hikari stood in her new living room, guitar case still slung over her shoulder, staring at the box of manga on the floor. The boy with the wild hair and tiny fangs—her first friend in Tokyo. Maybe this move wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

***

Hikari stood in front of the bathroom mirror, studying her reflection in the half-awake light of dawn. It was the sort of pale, drowsy light that seemed to say, Look, I’m not fully committed to today either. She blinked at herself, absently tucking the white streaks framing her face behind her ears. One of them rebelliously slipped back out. She blew a small puff of air to chase it out of her face, though she knew it would reappear the second she looked away.

“Uniform? Well, it’s on. That’s something,” she muttered, giving herself a once-over. “Teeth? Brushed. Hair… still there. Good enough.” As she ticked off each detail, her fingers tapped an invisible rhythm on the side of the sink, a quiet background to her own morning checklist. She found herself humming a tune that crept into her head somewhere between waking up and right now. The song was a tiny comfort, a shield between her and the new day ahead.

Next door, Keisuke pulled on his school jacket, a rare flash of early-morning energy in his eyes. Even his mom did a double take, muttering something about never seeing him up on time without needing a stick of dynamite underneath him. Normally, school meant very little to him—an obligation he could take or leave. But today was different. Not that he’d ever admit why. With one last tug on his collar, he was out the door, and they fell into step together as naturally as breathing.

The morning sun filtered through the patchwork of red, orange, and yellow leaves hanging over the street. As they walked, Hikari hummed softly to herself, each note settling her thoughts into place, turning the usual chaos in her mind into something calm and steady. It was strange—almost too easy—walking alongside him. She’d known him for one whole day, but it already felt like years.

As they approached the school gates, she let out a small breath. Starting at a new school didn’t seem nearly as terrifying with him by her side. When she found out they’d be in the same class, the knot of nerves in her chest unraveled a little more. I can do this.

“Psst…” he leaned over as they slipped into their seats, voice low but carrying a mischievous edge. “Hey, you any good at math?”

Hikari glanced at him, a smirk sneaking onto her lips. “Nope. Math’s my mortal enemy.”

He let out a tragic sigh, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. “Damn. Guess that means I’m on my own.” He straightened, giving her a sidelong look. “So what are you good at?”

“Writing? Music?” She shrugged, her fingers absently rolling her pencil in her hand. “Grammar, I guess. Words are easier than numbers. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m a master of lunch. And gym. And avoiding homework.” He flashed her a grin, sharp and a little wild. It was hard to tell if he was bragging or admitting his limitations.

The snort that burst out of her was louder than she meant it to be, drawing a sharp glare from the teacher. She straightened instantly, cheeks flaming, and glued her eyes to her textbook. Still, she dared a glance at Keisuke. He was already looking at her, grinning like he’d just found his new favorite sidekick. And try as she might, she couldn’t stop the answering smile on her own lips.

Surrounded by a sea of strangers, Hikari realized something surprising: she didn’t feel out of place anymore.

***

“First day’s over,” Hikari sighed as the dismissal bell rang. Her voice was filled with the solemn relief of someone who’d just made it through an entire week compressed into a single school day. She crammed her books into her bag, feeling the weight of the day finally lift from her shoulders.

“Yeah, and you survived.” Keisuke smirked as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Thanks to me, obviously.”

She rolled her eyes, but a smile crept in anyway—he was only half-joking, after all. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get the hell outta here.”

They walked side by side into the golden afternoon, the warmth of the sun bathing the schoolyard in a friendly glow that seemed entirely disconnected from the bleak atmosphere of a school building. As they reached the gate, Keisuke froze mid-step. “Oh, shit. Forgot my workbook.” He scowled, mostly at himself. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She nodded and stepped aside as he sprinted back into the building. She fidgeted with the strap of her bag, her fingers tracing lazily along the edge. The sun warmed her face as she watched other students filter out. Snippets of conversation swirled around her like fallen leaves in the breeze. People she didn’t know, gossip that didn’t matter, none of them paying any attention to her.

Until they did.

“Oi, new girl.”

She felt the voice more than she heard it, slicing through her peace like a knife. Her shoulders tensed, and she turned to see five boys making their way toward her with the slow, lazy swagger of people who had no need to hurry—because their fun was about to start. The leader sported a sneer that he probably practiced a hundred times in front of a mirror, letting his eyes wander over her hair with far too much interest.

“What’s with that hair?” he asked, tilting his head closer as if to get a better look. “Didn’t know we had skunks at this school.”

“Yeah, skunk girl!” laughed the tallest one, his tone suggesting this was likely the peak of his comedic career.

Hikari’s heart began to pound, but she kept her face calm. She’d heard worse, and she’d handled worse. “My hair?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s with your face?”

The boy’s smirk slipped instantly, his expression hardening as he stepped into her personal space, looming over her like a cheap cologne-scented thundercloud. “Skunk girl, you’re either brave or stupid, talking back like that,” he spat, his breath hot and unpleasantly close. “And I’m guessing it’s stupid.”

Her palms began to sweat as the situation registered. This was much heavier than any teasing she'd dealt with before. Something about the way these boys were crowding her felt different. Harsher. She forced herself to keep calm, to shake off the creeping unease.

“What’s the matter, Skunk Girl?” the leader taunted, his voice low and dripping with malice. “You scared?” He shoved her, and she stumbled, her heart hammering in her chest. The ground seemed way closer than it should have, and on the second shove from behind her, she went down. Her knees scraped against the gravel as her books tumbled from her bag, the pages fluttering uselessly in the breeze.

Laughter rose around her, a chorus of mocking voices that seemed to bounce off the walls. And for a split second, she felt completely and utterly helpless, her vision blurring as tears threatened to spill. Then, a voice sliced through the chaos like a katana.

“What a bunch of pussies, picking on a girl,” Keisuke’s voice was low, cutting through the laughter with a force that made every head turn.

The laughter died instantly. And before anyone could even register what was happening, Keisuke was on them, his fists a blur of righteous fury. The leader hit the ground first as Keisuke’s knuckles landed with a precision suggesting this wasn't his first rodeo. One after another, the others stumbled forward, torn between disbelief and a sudden, overwhelming desire to be somewhere else. But pride got the better of them, and they jumped into the fray.

Hikari scrambled to her feet, backing away as Keisuke took them on, five to one. He moved like a force of nature, each punch sending another boy crashing to the ground. Within minutes, he stood victorious, his chest heaving, his lip split, and his eyes blazing with an intensity that made her feel, oddly, safe.

Keisuke grabbed the leader by his collar and yanked him off the ground, his face close and lethal. “I’m only gonna say this once,” he growled. “Don’t talk to her, don’t look at her, and don’t even breathe in her direction. Got it?”

The boy whimpered, clutching his side in pain. “Got it, man. Got it.”

Keisuke released him with a sneer, watching him crumple to the ground before turning to Hikari, his expression softening just slightly. “You alright?”

She looked down at her scraped knees, only now feeling the sting as the adrenaline faded. But that wasn’t what held her attention. “You’re bleeding,” she murmured, rummaging in her bag for a pack of tissues. “Hold still.”

He blinked as she stepped in close, pressing a tissue to his split lip with a kind of gentleness he didn’t know what to do with. “There,” she said quietly, meeting his eyes with a small smile. “All good.”

For a second, he just stared, processing the fact that someone was fussing over him after a fight. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink, and he scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks…”

She chuckled softly, pulling away. “Don’t mention it.” She hesitated, glancing at him thoughtfully. “You didn’t have to do all that, you know. I’m fine.”

“Fine?” he scoffed, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You got shoved to the ground. Don’t you know how to fight back?”

She shrugged, rubbing her still-stinging palms. “I’m more of a verbal assassin. Usually, I can sass my way out. But… yeah, I guess that didn’t work this time.”

He chuckled, nudging her shoulder playfully. “Well, we’ll fix that. I’ll show you how to throw a punch that’ll make ‘em think twice.”

A grin spread across her face, the tension in her chest easing. “Thanks. Maybe next time, I’ll be the one knocking them on their asses.”

“See? Now that’s the spirit.” He laughed, casting a glance over his shoulder at the boys still groaning on the ground. “Alright, let’s get outta here before the teachers show up.”

With a laugh, Hikari nodded, and the two of them walked away from the school, side by side, into the warm light of the afternoon..

***

“Quit staring, Haruchiyo,” Senju muttered, her elbow jabbing him in the ribs, sharp enough to make him flinch. Her eyes, bright and cutting, darted between him and Hikari. “It’ll be nice having another girl around if you don't weird her out first.”

“I’m not gonna weird her out,” Haruchiyo mumbled, though his gaze lingered on Hikari a beat too long. His lips curled into a slow, crooked grin, not quite reaching his eyes. “I was just thinking... her hair’s kinda cool.” He shrugged, the movement lazy, but the grin lingered as if he knew something more, something unspoken.

Hikari shifted in the oversized gi Keisuke lent to her. It smelled faintly of detergent, the fabric soft but a bit loose around her smaller frame. She tugged at the sleeves, the ends brushing her fingers as they fell almost to her knuckles. The air inside the Sano family dojo was thick—the scent of wood and incense seemed to cling to the quiet, like the past had soaked into the walls. It was oddly comforting.

She looked at Senju with her pink hair and then at Haruchiyo, who was still watching her with that curious half-smile. There was something unreadable in his expression, something about the way his eyes traced the white streaks in her hair that made the edges of her mind prickle. Weird, but okay.

“Another girl? Really?” A burst of energy arrived in the form of a girl with sunshine for hair, all smiles and brightness. “I’m Emma! And my brothers are around here somewhere.”

Before Hikari could respond, Keisuke's voice tore through the room, a shout full of raw energy. “Mikey! Where the hell are ya?”

The sudden loudness hit Hikari like a clap of thunder. Her eyes widened as his voice rang in her ears and rattled her brain like a pea in a can.

From the hallway, a voice drifted in, slow, like it had been pulled reluctantly from sleep. “Don’t shout.”

A boy with tousled blonde hair strolled in. His eyes were half-lidded, as if he was still dragging himself out of some dream. Like his body had arrived but his mind was still lingering somewhere far away. He walked as if gravity barely applied to him, like he was just passing through and floating by. But when Hikari’s eyes fell on him, something stirred deep in her chest. A faint, familiar pull, like the soft pluck of a guitar string in the back of her mind. An odd sense of... recognition?

“Who’s the new kid?” Mikey asked, his voice bored, as if the question was hardly worth his attention.

Baji moved beside Hikari, his hand resting on her shoulder like a declaration. “This is Hikari. She’s gonna start coming here with me.” His words held a kind of finality, like he was welcoming her into some ancient and important secret order. “Mikey is Emma’s brother.”

“I know.”

The words slipped from Hikari’s lips before she even realized what she was saying. Her own voice felt foreign to her, like it didn’t quite belong. How do I know that?

The room seemed to hold its breath for a moment, but Mikey, still distant, barely blinked at her response. “Cool,” he muttered, turning away like the interaction had already drifted out of his mind.

Hikari bunched the sleeves of her gi in her hands. It was like déjà vu, but the kind that didn’t quite fit, like trying to remember a dream already slipping through her fingers. The feeling poked at the corners of her mind, quiet but persistent. But she pushed it away, letting it drift like a leaf on a still pond.

That night, she laid in bed, the weight of the day pressing down on her. The unfamiliar familiarity of everything gnawed at her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew these people—Mikey, Emma, Senju, Haruchiyo—from somewhere. Even her nearly instant sense of ease around Keisuke surprised her.

There was something about the way the day unfolded, like she’d been reading lines in a play she didn’t remember rehearsing. Each moment carried an undercurrent, subtle and strange.

She rolled onto her side and buried her face in her pillow, trying to shake the weirdness that wouldn’t quite let go.

Her mind circled back to Haruchiyo. That cryptic smile. There was something about him, something about the way he watched her, like he knew something she didn't.

She let out a slow breath, the tension in her body easing slightly as she settled deeper into her pillow. Maybe I’m just tired.

But even as her eyelids grew heavy, the sense of something just out of reach lingered. Like a song that played too quietly to hear, just at the edge of her awareness, like a half-remembered dream.

[fountainpenguin]

"And honestly, I think you're fine! I mean, you're beautiful... about 84% of the time!" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 21 - “Heat (Martyn, BigB)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

A frustrated Martyn is left alone to babysit the Fox Dragon’s eggs. He texts Grian, Scott, Cleo, Mumbo, and Ren, then gets in three fights within an hour.

Meanwhile, BigB checks if Impulse's new farm designs are ethical for the villagers involved and Bdubs walks in on a dynamic that catches him off guard. Huzzah for server hub politics!

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

InTheLittleWood - Phantom

Status: Bored

Acting captain of New Star Station's phantom hybrid flock

💙  🧡  💚

"Iron… water… charcoal… salt… Ugh." Martyn leans all his weight against the lab table, blowing his lips. "Wow, this would be so much easier if I had an admin panel- none of this back-and-forth rabble. Why don't I ever look these things up when I'm on-server?"

The fox eggs, being eggs, don't respond. Martyn had to peel his eyes from them to focus his attention on the lab table, though he keeps his tail resting on the ground, lightly wrapped around the nearest one. If someone flutters down on the flock roost platform, he'll hear them. And if someone creeps on tiptoes across the landing, the vibration will rattle up his spine. He's a great caretaker. This is going just swell.

And it's not a bad gig, actually, stuck up here on the clock tower... so long as you don't mind the squawking and banter of parrot hybrids in the southern park whose voices carry back all this way. Let them sing you the song of their people; we're all sparky-frustrated up here in Between. Gods, that stupid moon.

Grian: i maen its no surprise if its rough. wild phantom idle ambiance uses live young w/o eggs or nests. the hybrids were the same back in my world Grian: well undead young but ykwim Grian: like its your bat side and not your vulture side is what im saying Grian: or whatever else you are InTheLittleWood: k InTheLittleWood: thanks g Grian: yeah sure InTheLittleWood: wait how do undead hybrid babies work? Grian: ? were you born alive? InTheLittleWood: ?? I thought I was? I was adopted as an egg tho, I didn't hatch in Linda's nest. Never thought to ask "Hey Mum and Dad, was I born alive?"

He pats the nearby eggs as Grian starts to type. Should he put his crocs back on? Is it rude to put your smelly feet up on a spawn egg? They can't sense that, right? Nah… They're not even born yet. The very beginnings of a soul might be in there (Maybe? He's not sure how it works), but they only hatch once an account links up to them. This clutch only has a few dozen eggs.

Martyn rests his hands on his stomach, counting down the ticking seconds. Thousands and thousands of eggs hatch every day, more or less in the order they were laid by one of the 98 dragons across Between. Sometimes siblings and camera twins are born the same species. Sometimes another dragon dropped a few of her own in a nest at the same time, so there's a split.

On rare occasion, two souls bundle in a single egg- That's where you get identical twins like Grian and Two. How much longer before these foxes start spawning? It can't be long now.

Gods, imagine if every single one hatches two souls… That'll be at least 60, 70, 80 fox hybrids scampering around up here. I should probably take them down to ground level. The base of the tower is a big empty room, offering nothing but the stairs and the doorway out.

Grian: i think mumbo said the phantom dragon carries the eggs in her throat pouch Grian: its what the alligator dragon does and she lives in the swamp near mumbo's spawner with joels mom InTheLittleWood: Suddenly I think I owe my parents some cards and gifts. I knew adopting phantoms was rare but I didnt realize grabbing an egg probably means crawling inside Linda's mouth and escaping before she bites you, geez 😳 InTheLittleWood: unless they just got my egg right after it was laid Grian: when the spawnlings hatch they eat the souls shes been carrying in there Grian: lol Grian: i mean mumbo got paid the big $ to do egg stealing runs, its why he had the last allay aggs Grian: eggs

Martyn lifts his brows, staring at his comm screen. If you measure by years instead of levels, he's older than Mumbo. Mumbo definitely didn't grab his egg, but how weird would that be? You marry the man who kidnapped you as a baby… That's just weird.

Granted, he does hail from a well-off family. The term "well-off" is ambiguous when you're off-server, but the gist is that his parents actually do have diamonds whereas most of Between's natural resources have been picked over out in the wild.

Growing up, he always just assumed his parents ended up with a phantom egg because that's what they bid for when the adventurers - usually, but not always wandering traders - went out on adoption runs to the dragon nests. His mum's an otter hybrid and his dad's a raven: a rare predator and a rare scavenger most people don't even know are native in the game.

Otter code was prepped for Minecraft Dungeons, but never made it beyond early concepts. Nonetheless, they exist. They're called a Tweenborn mob- something meant to exist, but never truly crossed into one of the main dimensions. Ravens actually did make it into the Dungeons spin-off, but only went public as cosmetic pets. You don't fight them, but they hang around anyway.

Most people thought his parents were modded and would do a double-take if they ever mentioned the Otter Dragon or Raven Dragon, who rarely get the mental pings to build nests and lay eggs. Growing up, they used to introduce Martyn as "their phantom kid" and urge him to show the wings and his baby fangs.

Was I a trophy kid? he wonders now. He wouldn't put it past them. Love his parents he may, but they did chase a lot of status symbols. Being rich enough to afford what must've been a wizard-level egg retrieval - potentially from the depths of Linda's gular pouch - may have been too good to resist.

Martyn stares a little more, rubbing his thumb across the edge of his communicator. I haven't seen my parents since before my EVO days. Maybe he should go. He can fly fast and be back in a snap. Would Scott allow that?

I guess it doesn't hurt to ask.

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[orhua]

Wow I need to use this blog actually...

You know, considering how much time I spend on the internet, you'd think I would remember I made a blog here. But nah, I forgot *almost immediately*!!!! Ok, so! A couple weeks ago, I started on a new (kinda new) game and may or may not have been working on it for basically every moment I've been awake since (I swear this totally isn't a hyperfixation or something haha), so I have like a bunch of stuff I'm gonna share here. The game is a turn-based RPG (obviously) but like you play Wario Ware minigames to do attacks and block stuff or whatever. I've been mostly focused on the story and stuff, but I have a good amount of work into the game's overworld systems and combat system, and some art and stuff. I'll post a little devlog to show off everything I've been working on in the game engine on Monday, and then probably post weekly devlogs or something for the foreseeable future or until I need to stop working on this regularly, or something like that. In the meantime, please enjoy this very basic probably placeholder art and music!!!

Bad pixel art animation of the main character and another character (I'm bad at art :P)

Extremely WIP tileset I made today

Some music (some of these are kinda old, but I'm probably still using them for the project cuz I like them)

[glazedsnail]

It's fanfic time again.

I mean it started small but it's a long one so I'd rather send through like rapid fire like taktaktaktaktaktaktak y'know?

Nah I don't make sense to me either.

Anyway.

Misery Loved Company

ShanexOCFarmer (♀️) 18+ / swear words/substance misuse/explicit/suicide ideation/mention of abuse.

Part 1 is there, and part 2 here

Hang on a little bit more the smut is so close you can almost smell it you horndogs.

Also that's how I imagine Elliott's in his cabin wanting to go on an evening walk but he's just stuck.

And now you know why I'm not a pixel artist.

A soft gust of wind plays with his hair. I put back a slightly greying strand behind his ear. I don’t know what to expect of this evening anymore. It’s been all over the place.

‘So, uh’ he starts ‘are we like…’

‘I suppose we are.’

‘Should we drink to that?’

I giggle.

‘Might as well finish the pack, right?’

We each get a new can and enjoy it in silence, in the newfound status quo of our… relationship? We’re both in our thirties, this is laughable.

‘Thank you for inviting me out tonight. The beach was a very nice idea, I’m having a great time’

He still slightly blush, scratching his head.

‘Me too’ he finally mumbles. 

My empty stomach decides to join in so loudly it covers the waves, the wind, the distant seagulls and the crickets. 

Shane bursts out laughing. I squeeze my empty pouch hoping to make it shut the hell up. This date had not one romantic moment, this is a disaster.

‘Sorry’ I’m so darn embarrassed.

He laughs again, and it’s the most beautiful thing.

‘Y’know, we’ve not touched the pepper poppers yet’ He remarks.

‘Oh you’re right. Lemme just’ I grab the tightly sealed tupperware and a note falls from its lid. I hand the recipient to Shane.

This is Emily handwriting:

“If it doesn't work out with Shane I can hook you up. Shouldn’t be too hard :)”

My eyes blink fast. What the hell does she mean? Why the fuck did she think this would be a good idea? I quickly crumple the paper.

‘What’s that?’ Shane asks, in the middle of a pepper.

‘Nothing, some nonsense from Emily.’ 

I try to shove the crumpled paper in my pocket but miss. He takes the opportunity and grabs the piece.

‘Let me have a read.’

No please Yoba no. Not after everything. Why is the universe so against Shane and I enjoying an evening together? These past hours start to feel like weeks. I try to snatch it back but he stands up.

‘No!’ I cry as I follow him up, grabbing him by the arm with all my newfound farmer might.

‘Is it girl talk you’re embarrassed about?’ He laughs, keeping the small piece of paper away from me. I’m desperate to get it back. ‘Ouch!’ I just bit his arm. ‘You’re completely nuts!’ He yells, massaging his arms with the slight imprint of my teeth. 

‘Please Shane, give it back!’

I cannot let him read this nonsense. He’d take it to heart. I know I would. I don’t want a hook up, I never wanted a hook up in my life. I don’t want anyone else. I do not want anyone else. I want to taste his lips again, I want to experience the weight of his body against mine, wake up in the morning and watch him sleep peacefully, kiss him every chance I get, feel his stubble between my thighs. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t need anyone else, I need him. Just him.

‘Oh shit Fern are you ok?|’

I fell face first in the sand. He lifts me up as I cough some sand out of my mouth.

‘That was quite a fall.’ He pats the sand out of my legs.

‘I guess running on three beers isn’t of my age anymore. Where’s the note?’ 

‘Right here.’ He holds the crumpled note between two fingers, above my head. 

‘Can you please give it to me? Please?’

‘What’s so embarrassing, c’mon, it can’t be that bad.’ He laughs and unfolds it. I bury my face in my hands. Between my fingers I can see his smile slowly disappearing.

‘Shane, it’s’

He lifts a finger towards me to stop me and I shut up. My throat hurts so much, there’s so much I want to say. It’s all stuck in there. His smile is gone. He looks furious.

Without a word, he swiftly walks towards the blanket and starts picking things up.

‘Shane I know how it looks but please I beg you, stop.’

‘What? You read the note. It’ll be easy to find you another hook up. I don’t doubt it myself the way you can twist people around your finger.’

‘It’s not what I want!’

‘Or another relationship, why do I care.’

‘I did not ask Emily to hook me up, she was just being silly, I don’t know I… There’s no “if it doesn’t work with Shane”, please. Please! You have to believe me.’

I try to stop him from packing but fail miserably.

‘I did believe you Fern, that was my first mistake. I believed your insistence came from a genuine place, that there could be such a thing as an “us”. Even believed someone like me could be…Shit, leave me alone Fern.’

‘No.’

‘Move from the blanket.’

‘No.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Move.’

‘I will not move unless you hear me out.’

‘Oh that’s just precious. You’re going to try and use your stupid words to twist me around like you did the whole evening, all the times you were ever talking to me, aren’t you? It’s never been about me, just about grabbing an easy cock for the night? Or get some high on saviour complex? Do you think you’re the first one I meet?’

‘Do you hear yourself?!’ I snap, still intimidated by his raised voice. ‘If I wanted a cheap fuck I would have stayed in the city. If I wanted no substance I wouldn’t have been so vulnerable with you. Are you going to judge me based on a silly note instead of all we’ve been through? I like you Shane. A lot. Fuck. A LOT! Yeah, this date could have ended with us fucking, who knows? Who knows with this damn date anymore. But you know why it’d have happened? Not because I want to fuck, but because I want you. I wouldn’t even care if all you ever wanted was a cheap fuck or wanted me cause I’d be happy, stupidly happy, to have you, even for one night. Just you, you, Shane. Do you understand? I’m not the hook up type, never have and never will but I just lo…like you so much.’

‘Aren’t you tired of your big speeches by now?’

I am furious.

‘Shane, look at me. Look at me in the eyes.’ I grab him by the hoodie. I’m trembling, keeping my tears at bay as much as I can. ‘I choose to believe you trust me enough to know I could never lie to you. I know this means nothing. You know, I met the saviour type. the fixing crowd. I know them. The one that takes pride in being part of your recovery while putting you down enough so you're stuck thinking you can't improve without them, that you'll never do or be any better. Don’t you dare take me for one of them. I know you can't believe I'm like that. ’

He averts my gaze. I gently place my hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at me again, slowly caressing the roughness of his stubble.

‘You’re trying really hard aren’t you?’

‘Trying what? I simply hate being misunderstood, misperceived. Hell, at the best of times I hate being perceived at all.’

‘You weren’t too concerned about being perceived by me of all people.’

‘I don’t have any explanation for this. I could try my whole life to explain why I need you.’

My voice has gotten lower, so has his. He grabs my hand still resting on his cheek and lowers it down. I try to get closer but he grabs me by the waist. He reaches my chin and rests his thumb on my lower lip. His eyes fall into mine. I can see he’s scared. I know his grief.

He calmly blinks, his eyes now looking softer.

The candles are almost down to the wick. Their flickering lights send stripes through his conflicted face. I can’t remember when was the last time I took a breath. His hand steadily goes from my waist to my back and, in a defeated groan, he pulls me towards him and kisses me.

My legs are going to give in. I grab the back of his head and kiss him back.

‘Fern’ he starts, leaving my lips.

‘Please, kiss me again.’

He tightens his embrace, not waiting to be asked twice. I part my lips, use my tongue to part his and taste him. His kisses are incredibly soft. His hands on my body are making me shiver and lose complete control. I let my hips roll towards his bulge. He wants me, he can have me. I want to give myself to that man over and over again. I want him, no, need him, to fill me up with sin. 

‘Shane...’ I whisper in a lustful voice.

‘Fuck.’ he answers.

He carries me down the abandoned blanket. I gasp as his hips fall between my open legs, making me arch my back.

‘I want you.’ I manage to say.

He buries his face in my neck and starts kissing the tender skin, gives it a nibble, and bites into it as he hears my moans growing in his ear. 

That’s when the rain decides to start heavily falling on us.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Next Fest 2025 Part 2

Onward with the demo blip-reviews, done in chunks over the course of a very bad pain day. (Begins 01/03/25)

Find All 6: Netherlands - The next in a series of cheap and cheerful little hand-drawn hidden object puzzle games. I like these because they don't really attempt a story the way a lot of other ones do. It's just me, a picture, and trying to find things in it. I was probably going to get this anyway, but having the demo was nice.

Dragonkin: The Banished - It wants to be Diablo very badly, but it ain't quite there. I stopped midway through because it bored me witless even in a short period of time. Might be someone's cup of tea (a couple of the curators who looked at it this week seem to like it) but that's not really the game experience I'm into. Banished, yes - from my wishlist.

BloomTale - Flower shop simulator. I had fun with this one. It's hands-on enough to feel like you're accomplishing something, but not so complicated that it gets in the way of the Zen. The art style is colourful without being garish. It's not a world-shaker, but it's another bit of Zen for the collection.

(02/03/25) Another day, slightly less pain - not much better, but at least enough to hit up a few demos.

Do No Harm - Doctor simulator, but, like ... Lovecraftian. On one hand it's about balancing symptoms and allergies and all the rest to provide treatment, but on the other there's eldritch horrors and it's the whole balancing act of Doing Your Job and Keeping Sane (with laudanum, which of course does great things to your ability to practice medicine). This is definitely my kind of game.

Instants - It's sort of a scrapbooking simulator, but it just didn't really grab me. I imagine it tells some kind of story, but the game didn't get far enough into story before focusing solely on the controls so it kind of lost me.

Book Bound - Pixel graphics bookshop simulator, but the controls were fiddly and I'm still waiting for Tiny Bookshop, which is similar but better. So ... nah.

The Bench - It's ... kind of like Untitled Goose Game, if you replaced "goose" with "old man feeding pigeons"? Unfortunately, while it's interesting, it is first-person and there are a lot of sudden viewpoint changes, so I think I'm going to avoid this one for the sake of my health. But it looks fun for those who aren't troubled by migraines and vertigo when dealing with that kind of first-person viewpoint.

Out and About - This is my jam on so many levels. It's herbal remedies and foraging. It's actually pretty accurate in terms of what properties the herbs have and what you can do with them, at least insofar as the single bit of demo shows. (Obviously they warn not to take it as a 100% guide because you have to be VERY careful with foraging, lest you get something poisonous.) Basically, this is one I absolutely need. Aaaaaaaaaand of course its release date is "to be announced". Woe.

Cats in Cozy Rooms - Interior design game where you match the decor to what a bunch of cats prefer. Kind of like real life, really, except at least in this one the cats can express their desires verbally instead of just tearing apart what they don't like. Yeah, that's a keeper.

Cat Quest - This is an older one that's been sitting in my demo collection for awhile. Kind of like what would happen if you took a Legend of Zelda game, cast it entirely with cats, and then had it take itself rather less seriously. Kind of fun. Worth a play.

Well, there are still a lot more demos but this is getting long and I hurt and I have errands and things to run. But I do have tonight and tomorrow to hack through more of them (and possibly find more, knowing me) so that'll keep. Here's hoping you found something that might be worth giving a try in here.

[spider-shoes]

(Ignore how i accidentally unfollowed you when i went to send this ask 💀)

SPIDER I am here to tell you that yesterday i FINALLY watched all of what's out right now of People Still Live Here.....

And. brah. That shit. was fucking crazy. I REALLY REALLY LIKED IT, I don't know if i have any like... analysis. or. thoughts. especially none that i haven't just got from surface level youtube comments 😭 BUT STILL LIKE, OBVI I LIKE DIGITAL HORROR ANYWAY BUT IT WAS SOOO COOL, HOW DOES KANE PIXELS?? NEVER FUCKING MISS???

The part where the crusty jpg guy got fucking swept away by the evil Train traffic sign um. Did make me laugh so much i'm sorry 😭😭 But then i felt smacked in the face because when it started chasing the protag at the end of the episode THEN i was genuinely getting so fucking anxious and freaked out, and like. Kane pixels: fair enough. Yeah you got me good 😭

do you have any thoughts :D??? either for deeper analysis or just. in general LOL. I need more episodes like i need air...

(PFT THATS OKAY)

omg omg omg the way I like. fucking love it so much. THE AESTHETIC GOES SOOOOOO HARD. like he just makes the wide open space work!! thats one of my fav things about kane pixels is the way he creates suspense - he's not afraid to drag slow exploration on for a long long time, and ik that's not everyone's cup of tea but I fw it heavy. thank you kane pixels for bringing my attention span back. it sets me SO on edge

ALSO THE TRAIN THINGY HAHA nah I was giggling through that whole sequence. I love u goofy jpeg guy it's too bad you got hit by a train monster rest in peace

imo day 2 was really fuckign scary like the part where the mc goes into a tunnel and it's pitch black and theres SCARY NOISES. I am not immune to scary noises in the dark. AND THEN THE SHEPHERD. I was so on edge through the whole shepherd chase scene cus it was agonizingly slow I WAS PISSING MY PANT I TELL YOU kane pixels the man you are. I might rewatch it right now it went crazy

I need more content like I need air you're so right. you're so right. I need to be fed

[pinkyjulien]

⚡ WIP Whenever

I'm sure I was tagged somewhere forever ago so HGHFH I'm using this as my excuse to show my lil project of the moment 👉👈

Working on my proper Fallout AU ✨ Cause I caught the rot like everyone else 'round me ofc ofc

Watched the show (loved it!) and bought Fallout 4, playing a bit there and there but I'm eager to continue 👀 I enjoy it so far

AND SO, With all that came the inevitable AU rot

HE IS OBVIOUSLY A BIG WIP STILL-- I quickly popped him in game to check if the mesh was ok, but I need to fix the different maps, especially the roughness one cause it got corrupted on import (got all kind of tiny artifacts/glowy pixels, that means it's the wrong compression!)

BUT Yeah so- I debated with myself if Mitch would be a ghoul or nah- I liked the idea, it fits him? Came up with a quick lil backstory too, War Veteran (duh) who "sacrificed" himself to help his folks get into a bunker (non-vault) when the bombs began to drop', he rushed to get everyone safe and didn't had time to get inside, making sure it was correctly sealed before runnin' away

He came back weeks / months later to check on them, knockin' on the door expecting another knock or some kind of life inside- but he couldn't hear anything, so he opened it and they were all dead

So he's the sole survivor of his lil group?? wandering the wasteland alone and all-- ghfhghfh hgf making myself sad

But then he met up with this awesome group of people who accept ghouls and all (cough aldecaldodaldlsld cough) and they help people without risking their own group security ofc :>

THEN COME Valentin lil gonkass

He's gonna be a Vaultie, or Ex Vaultie, who got falsly accused of something bad (not sure what yet) and yeeted from his vault, punished to go OUTSIDE

Idk yet if it's gonna be a recent thing, or if it's been a couple of months / years already and while he's still struggling to "fit in", he got a bit of time to adapt to the surface

As always with my AUs, how the two meet is similar to my CP77 Canon; Valentin ends up in trouble, life or death situation, and Mitch comes at the right time and save his ass uwu (I'm a sucker for THIISSS DONT @ ME)

Need to find a Vault that would fit Val's lil lore, need to customize his outfits more- and I also have Sturges's outfit to port for Mitch because of COURSE he's a lil techie here too 😔👌 what can I say

Not gonna tag anyone but if you read all that, you're automatically tagged 👁👄👁 👈 mwah

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

prev | next

As @mdianasims once said, in the Sims there's always one shot of a party where it actually looks like a party - and here it is!

Actually, let's make that several more:

I mean, when even Mr Prim and Proper (Caden) has loosened his tie, you know that it's a great night.

cw: mild sims spice - guide to my warnings

Mister receives a flirt - and a Lilac WHIM! That will be five points to you, sir. Although she is a LAZY pixel, so it's equally likely that she's just making a play for his slice of pizza.

Together Pauline and Spencer wonder what makes a successful keg stand more likely. Is it the PARTY ANIMAL trait? Nah, that's tied to a completely different pack. Gotta be go BRO or go home - that one's base game compatible. (Mister's probably just happy to mark his pizza safe from Lilac.)

This is probably the only beverage MATERIALISTIC Caden has ever consumed that was served in a paper cup. It's not half bad, however - does anyone know the vintage?

Elsewhere Mister airs out his by now well-worn* CLAIM TO BE A CRIMINAL MASTERMIND routine. Pauline and Delphine are both suitably whelmed.

*I am taking a look at his CAS later, as no one else is claiming to be this, like, every other sentence 😅 Struan and Spencer are also GOOFBALLS, but Struan only claimed to be a criminal mastermind twice (if that), while Spencer does sometimes, but to a far less frequent degree?

Official time on the party is beginning to wind down, so Lilac considers her... other commitments.

(And yeah, Pauline can safely go for the neck in this life state.)

But even if Caden is busy being responsible and junk, the party don't stop until Mister walks out! (I was trying for a Ke$ha reference here - shush). It's time for party tricks and keg stands, baby!

Now, now. He's just out of practice.

If at first you don't succeed? You dust yourself off and fall again - right, Mister?

Then Pauline (refreshed from her Lilac session) asks Delphine to hoist her up. A CLUMSY pixel? Spencer knew there was only one way that was going down - which was hard on Pauline's tailbone.

Ooof.

Just when I think that Mister and Tiago are finally bonding - nope, it's another CLAIM TO BE CRIMINAL MASTERMIND. Fortunately Caden and Delphine are conversing more pleasantly.

I agree, Pauline. That's enough keg stands for tonight.

And so Spencer gets the BED CUDDLE - while maybe dreaming of a white Winterfest or something 😏

@mdshh @changingplumbob @igglemouse

@invisiblequeen @akitasimblr @simsfvr

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for beating a guy with a baseball bat?

I know the title sounds bad, but here me out here. Ok so I (F, 14 at the time) used to be really into this one computer game. It was like a dating sim kinda thing where you date ghosts and stuff. I got really into it, played it like 24/7, and it got to the point where the characters felt like real people to me, you know? I only really had a couple friends, so they were like...even more friends I guess. But then one afternoon when I was playing I kinda realized that they weren't real. And like obviously I know they weren't real. But it was like...I realized that everything they said was something already written by someone else. And the connection I felt was fake, and it felt like I was losing these real people that I knew. But they were just...pixels. And it just felt...really sad. They were never real, and never would be. There was no cinnection there. It was just me. Alone. After that I started to question reality, I guess. There was this old tree outside my house, and I always thought of it like it was a friend. But it wasnt. It was just a thing. And i felt like everything else was just...things. Shapes and words and nothing real. And the day after that, there was this softball game at my school. The pitcher, I guess I'll call him A, he didn't feel real either. He was just...shapes, and words somebody wrote. Like there was nothing there. And i was scared, and angry and..I don't really remeber the whole thing...I just remember beating his face in with the bat. He didn't die or anything, just went to the hospital. I went to therapy after that, and I'm doing better now I guess. I still feel kinda out of it when I'm in new places alone. Thats part ofwhy I dropped out of college. Everybody around town judges me for what I did to A, even though its been like 6 years and he ended up fine. AITA?

[wiggolt]

I never posted kazujun here even if I like it and I have beautiful ideas nah, some people are really too toxic or childish and disrespectful in that community they ruined the experience (like any other oc) some people can't ship Kazuya or Jun with anyone because "they " go feral or Noo you can't because I don't like so it's bad" son they are pixels not real don't take it too deep.

I'm mean I love Xiaojin but I like hwoajin and other ships, even if I don't other ship with them, I keep my silence and ignore and dont do a drama for videogame pixels.