#this is when we were doing fractals

[mistborn-bastard]

she molten on my shaman til I

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Mel and Viktor are both in an Oculorum

The prison the Black Rose have put Mel in is what "Kino" calls an Oculorum, where "According to legend, the ancients built specialized chambers to seal away false prophets." It's unclear whether this place is real and physical, but it certainly seems to be to Mel. It's built like a puzzle box that seems to probe Mel's innate abilities as a mage.

Note that these runes are like yet also unlike Hextech runes with long connected lines and hard angles, like Mel's Art Deco aesthetic, and like the prison itself and its walls.

In Zaun, something was bothering me about Viktor's home - until Jayce blew a hole in the top of the chamber, creating a spiraling tunnel of debris. So now there is a hole in the top of Viktor's chamber with a "tunnel," the same as there's a hole in the top of Mel's Oculorum:

The aesthetic of Viktor's chamber is opposite to Mel's. No squares or hard angles, only circles and fractal-like spirals, curving like Zaun and Viktor's Art Nouveau aesthetic.

But how do we know Viktor's chamber is an Oculorum, specifically? Vi and Jinx give us our biggest hint when they find the wall where their heights were marked as kids:

Which Vi and Caitlyn found in season 1 deep in the undercity, near the Shimmer addicts that Viktor later "cures":

Which was underneath a giant neon Eye of Zaun:

What does the word Oculorum mean?

"ocu" comes from the Latin "oculus," meaning "eye." "Oculorum" means something to the effect of "of the eye." Viktor's chamber stands right by where the Eye of Zaun stood.

Mel is imprisoned while Viktor appears free, but is also in effect trapped. Mel is "the child" the Black Rose was searching for, possibly with magical or even semi-divine heritage. Viktor is a regular man made into a magic user whose religious imagery was not what it appeared to be. Mel and Viktor are both magic users confined to a chamber meant to hold "false prophets."

[fairlyabookie]

The things you do that got them heads over heels (part 5)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | last part!!

author's note: woohooo!! We have finally made it to the last part! I hope you all enjoyed this little compilation! I'd like to thank my recent brainrot for helping me write this much!!

Trey - baking w/ him

A sugary sweet aroma clings onto the both of you like a vice, films of powder dusting your noses as giggles flitter about in the kitchen. Strong hands, calloused yet gentle ones, cover yours, kneading away malleable dough, the muscles of Trey’s arms flexing at the right places. Just watching him felt scandalous, your ears burning up profoundly.

You asked him once upon a time if you could join him in his baking sessions - his personal time, as a means to spend more time with him. Sure, an innocent question, but one laced with intent; you had to know what was behind those delectable goods of his creation. To answer your question, he replies with a simple smile, a grin too wide to be considered cordial acceptance.

There you were, his broad frame hovering over yours, his warmth embracing you from behind. You fathom a grin from him, a tease at the ready when you falter from your kneading. Surely, Trey was distracting you terribly so, that he had moved to the next step: shaping the dough.

“Put some strength on it, [Reader]. You got this.” His voice drops to a sultry whisper, his breath brushing your ear. Heat rushes up to your cheeks, your thoughts melting to puddy when his hands cups on yours, the essence of vanilla not really helping with your rationale.

Cater- hanging out with him

Maybe you enchanted him - or maybe cursed him, to have him so memorized towards you. The way you latch onto him, guiding him to the very place he came across on MagiCam. His heart soars, taking flight to a sensation he wasn’t too familiar with. Exhilarated, he latches onto you, letting himself go to the whims of your adventures.

He may know the trendiest places out there, but letting you take the lead became an adventure. Selfies, pictures, and polaroids were a must - tangibles symbolizing your adventures together, places you went, and things you did, all encapsulated into one picture; tangible items Cater would surely cherish from the bottom of his heart. At the end of the day, he’d find himself looking back at the things he did, all with someone who he could call a friend.

In moments, Cater’s vanity was littered full of treasures, precious moments of smiles upon smiles, idle moments captured in a sweet second of bliss, where a social media post couldn’t seem to describe the magic of the moment. You truly enraptured him, his heart already yours the second you got him in a whirlwind of adventures.

“Cater, Cater! What do you think? Totally lives up to the hype, right?” You gesture to the space before him, a quaint café, a sight he had seen from a post on MagiCam. It was just as described in the video, except for you and your dazzling smile before him. Maybe it was the post prophesizing the hype, or you were bewitching him, but he had to absolutely agree.

Lilia - trip to memory lane

While memories came to him in fractals of glass in the depths of his mind, pictures were best to help jog his memories. Of course, gadgets count too - the years had passed him so quickly that everything seemed the same, technologically advanced or not.

You were a curious youth, looking through the pieces of his life with childlike naivety. From Sebek and Silver’s baby pictures to Malleus’ first tooth, you’d stumble these small moments and witness a teary-eyed Lilia watch you piece together what would be a tapestry of his family and his livelihood.

He’d not bat an eye when you stumble an age-old weapon, a relic he couldn’t recall keeping around for so long - and probably upcycled it for something. The fae would search through the banks of his memory of what was, but comes across some vague details, your befuddled expression matching his own.

“Lilia?” Your reflection peers over at the fae, his expression lost in thought somewhere. “Ah yes, my dear?” He draws a blank, retrieving the weapon from you. “All the things you have…. I can see that you treasure them so, Lilia..” “Fufu, indeed, my dear child, indeed. All of this to say that I live well and long enough to see everything..”

Leona - cuddle bug/naptime

Slumber was the one thing you craved after a long day of assignments and homework, your weary body aching for a moment’s rest. You seek shelter at a familiar face’s room, not bearing mind to your surroundings when you collapse on the bed and close your eyes.

When you come to, the scent of calendulas and rose buds drifts about, a profound warmth enveloping you. Warm breath tickles the back of your neck, sending heat up from your shoulders to your cheeks. A hand latches around your waist, holding you close but not too tight to the point of suffocation.

You glance behind, only to be met face-to-face with a slumbering Leona. Remnants of sleep linger on, your mind piecing together any memory of you coming across the third year. Alas, you barely had enough to register your thoughts when an emerald eye stares at you in quiet disapproval.

“Napping done already?” A lazy drawl rumbles from Leona, his eyes coalescing to a gorgeous shade of lush green. His gaze was watchful, picking up on any moment that may perturb his slumber - his tail wraps on your ankle, his possessive in full display. You dare not to provoke him further, facing him and his unnecessarily open neckline, itching closer to him as if seeking his warmth. A victorious smirk curls on his lips before he closes his eyes once more, you trapped in his clutches, returning to the realm of sleep once more.

[theminecraftbee]

Mumbo, still trembling, closes his eyes and ignores everything he can see despite them being closed. He ignores the uncountable sensations against his skin, the mix of burning-cooling-itching that all blends together into something that is simultaneously so painful it’s numb and so indescribable it hurts. He ignores the howling, tending, tearing at his ears, and he most certainly ignores the scent of pure memories that pull him in and out of the moment every time he fails to.

He mustn’t think. He can only bear to think in the brief gaps between the noise. If he lets himself think too long, he will realize that he doesn’t have to have his eyes open to see, because the thing he’s trying to look away from doesn’t exist on that sort of plane of existence. He will realize he can hear the endless fractal shapes of wings and eyes around him. He can taste it. He can feel it. He does not need eyes.

He keeps them shut. Grian had told him, once, that if he ever got confronted with his true form, he must keep his eyes shut. Mumbo is doing that now.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles. “It’s okay."

He gets the scent of someone saying 'Mumbo', a shout, panic, pain, not pain. He screws his eyes shut tighter. An overwhelming sensation that he should flee courses through him for a moment and he nearly runs into one the walls of their cell. Unfortunately, those walls are designed to hold in Grian, so Mumbo just bruises his nose.

"We can't leave. They drugged you and locked us both in, remember?"

The sensation is overpowering for a moment. For a moment, Mumbo loses hold of whatever sanity he's holding on to and every part of his body screams fear. He needs to leave, he needs to leave, he needs to leave, he can't leave, he doesn't know what to do, it's a deep and true sensation of doom and panic and then--

Acceptance. Mumbo finds himself curled on the ground.

Something apologizes.

"You were drugged," Mumbo mumbles. "You can't help it."

Mumbo hears the sound that happens when he's dying, he thinks. Then he hears sadness.

"I won't. You told me what to do. All, all I've got to do is hang on until, until either whatever they gave you gets out of your system, or, or someone rescues us. I mean, the other hermits, they'd certainly be rescuing us, right? I imagine they're already tearing, um, wherever we are? They're already tearing it to pieces. Skizz and Impulse are nearly as frightening as you, and, um, we both know what Doc is like angry, and it's okay, it's okay."

Mumbo does not want to have to be the reasonable one. He keeps his eyes shut and lets the feeling like hundreds of sharp feathers cross his skin as Grian tries harder to simultaneously surround and not surround Mumbo, tries to figure out how not to hurt him.

There is not a way for Grian not to hurt Mumbo. Mumbo has known this since they were first shoved in the same cell and Grian lost control.

He can't say that, though, because the moment Grian panics, he will actually kill him. He won't mean to. That's the truly terrible part. Grian will not mean to. He will not try to. He will try not to, in fact.

It's just. A god and a mortal should not be held in the same cage.

So Mumbo has to be the reasonable one. Just a little longer. Or Grian will never forgive himself.

Mumbo breathes. It makes his lungs feel like they're full of blue and purple and syrup and needles. It makes him feel like crying again. It also makes him feel like curling up and feeling nothing, which is the particularly dangerous bit.

"We'll figure this out. It's okay," he lies in his most soothing tone of voice. Somehow, he doesn't think Grian believes him.

They've just got to both pretend a little longer.

[bilal-sala7]

My friends, this is Laila's story, and I hope you can help her.

@laylaayman-blog

My name is Laila, I am 24 years old, married, and expecting my second child. I have a one-and-a-half-year-old daughter named Sally. Over a year ago, we were forced to leave our home due to the war, and we have not been able to return. My home is in an area under occupation, and I don’t know if it is still standing, as it is near my husband’s family’s house, which was destroyed. We have been displaced multiple times, and every time, I hoped it would be the last.

I worked as an accountant, but when the war broke out, I lost my job and now have no income and no home. My family has faced many hardships, and we were nearly killed when our house was bombed while we were inside. Miraculously, my husband, daughter, and mother survived under the rubble, but we lost my cousin’s daughter, who was very dear to us.

Now, we are homeless, living in my grandmother’s overcrowded house. My health and psychological condition have deteriorated, especially since I am pregnant and worried about bringing my child into this harsh world.

After more than a year of displacement, rising prices, and increasing difficulties, I had no choice but to start a fundraising campaign on GoFundMe. I ask for your support, as every contribution, no matter how small, can make a huge difference and give my children a chance at a better, safer life.

I also need your help in sharing this campaign, as I currently do not have a phone and cannot easily access social media. Every share or post from you can help spread my message to as many people as possible.

@g0at0ad @jupiter-letters @eternal-fractal @evilwizard @dughole

@bug-s0da @jewfrogs @tadpoledyke @pyrrhuria @bamsara

@userpeggycarter @greed-the-dorkalicious @mushroomjar @saturngalore

@entryn17 @saetyrn9 @corvidjuice @friskibitz @clowniconography

@000marie198 @gender-euphowrya @okruee @maythearo @plushiefucker

@hoofpeet @punkeropercyjackson @error-core-animations @bezbzns @laraenglish

@bogor-o @o-lanterns @fairycosmos @shadow-von-vamp @routeriver

@weenwrites @drukhari @wis-art @juney-blues @infectiouspiss

@cadaverkeys @mcnuggyy @patzweigz @petewentzisblack1312 @t4tails

@beetlebongos @jonahmagnus @valtsv @halorvic @witchysolfan

[pyxxiestyxx]

The Lessons We Learn

I opened the door quietly, a lesson I learned from Xj'elothii. Ix would be startled by unexpected movement, something I made the mistake of exactly once. The look of panic, of an animal cornered and ready to claw its own throat out rather than give in…a lesson of grace.

I sat down next to the sophont, the….'terran', the floret-to-be, a lesson I learned from Eriœ. When I had met them so long ago, I made the mistake of sitting across from them, something Eriœ felt was confrontational. Establishing trust took far longer than it needed to, and it cost them an arm. A lesson of empathy.

I waited for the terran to speak first, this new floret of mine. A lesson I learned from Ererer-jwi. He was slow in everything. Slow to speak, slow to choose…slow to trust. I was so eager to come in and fix his ailments, but he needed a rock to lie under, not wind to whittle away at him. A lesson on patience.

It took a time, but eventually the terran turned to me. Their eyes were pained, just as Jaili's had been. Their hands were worn, just as Seraphii's had been. Their mouth was tight and wary, just as Ryu-7's had been.

Each one of them were so similar. And yet each one of them were so unique, a fractal of infinite spiralling depth and love. So many old moments lived anew.

This one little 'Terran' would never know how they remind me of all who came before them, and yet…and yet.

I will do everything I can to thank them for the gifts they bring me. The memories of the past, the love of the present, and the lessons for the future, for the next one. The floret-yet-to-be.

I smile, just as I have so many times over, and hold out a vine.

"Hello little one, it is so lovely to see you."

[chiiroptereh]

[Please zoom in, there's a lot of detail! And a massive file size...ouch]

Hi guys, long time no post! Been working on Art Fight and life stuff, but I've got something kinda fun for you.

This is a compilation exploring how a mortal Bill may interact with our world if there were still some kinda Euclidean instincts buried in there. Y'know, before the Book of Bill ruins all my headcanons >:P (EDIT: IT HAS BEEN READ. YAHOOOOOO)

Also quite an experimental piece as you can probably tell. Lots of details on both said headcanons and the art stuff under the cut, but I invite you to study the colorful texture yourself beforehand and think about what it might be representative of, just for fun because I got some really cool answers from my friends when asked :]c

TL;DR: the headcanon is that Euclideans have exceptional eyes for geometry. They find things like symmetry, tessellating patterns, graphs and fractals very aesthetically pleasing. If pushed into our 3D world, they feel comforted by the familiarity flat objects/spaces bring, as well as high-contrast patterns. Shadows especially are a familiar dimensional reduction that may bring them much comfort.

Bill would surely not be happy about these inclinations, constant reminders of a past long gone, but I'm not sure he's even aware of them here :P I think his ego gets in the way to the point where he just views these interests as common sense, which, of course, us lame humans just don't understand because we aren't nearly as cool as him. Of course he likes perfectly symmetrical leaves and staring at the kitchen floor, it's called taste, look it up!

And yet, he can't seem to shake the strange sense of melancholy he gets from viewing his own shadow.

~ End of TL;DR, long version below! ~

🔺 Headcanon Development

So, the catalyst of this idea was in relation to my friend and I's AU ( @love-triangles-au ). TL;DR, Bill's brought back mortal, meets another triangle named Y.V. (it's his hand holding the paper in the piece, actually), at some point they fall in yaois together, you know how it is. And, in writing a pair of triangles (or, more broadly, writing from the perspective of a different species), something I've had to consider was that you really can't get much further removed from a human being than sentient geometry.

The anatomical aspect was mostly figured out (see my piece on Bill's eye-mouth), but I wanted to consider what psychological differences might be at play. I wanted them to be weirder, more alien, double-so for Bill. At first I explored these possibilities through the lens of Bill and Y.V.'s relationship, specifically the question "what might a triangle find appealing about another triangle?"

Well, really the only things that came to mind were straight lines and symmetry, anything related to the geometric form of such a creature. That's more-or-less where that ended until the thought struck me that there's no reason this aesthetic appreciation couldn't extend to the rest of the environment, and then further when I realized, "wait, this is a species that is designed to live in a 2D environment. Like, they should seriously be really weird. I need to push this like 200% more."

So...yeah! I did some thinking and brainstorming with others and came up with a pretty long list of things a Euclidean in our world may be inclined to enjoy or find some level of comfort in. It's worth noting again that in this piece specifically this is a mortal/powerless Bill, so he can't really escape this Earthly environment. IF he's aware of these instincts at all (and that's a big "if"; when have you last been cognizant of your own instincts let alone known where they were stemming from?) I think he'd have snuffed them out in immortality and/or purposefully gone against them; he doesn't take kindly to being told what to do.

In order from left-to-right, top-to-bottom, here's an explanation for each!:

Flat objects such as paper are something he may find particularly engaging. It's basically 2D!

Tessellations are especially fascinating, and our world has them everywhere in the form of tile floors. Symmetry and such a predictable pattern...as the infinity of the starry sky might for us, the infinite potential of tessellations might invoke a similar sense of awe in him. Add on the maximum contrast of black on white kitchen tiles and the forms are only even better defined! A sensitivity to contrast would be very helpful for a 2D being navigating their environment.

Fields are flat and open, much like Euclydia itself. Laying flat may make him feel a little more at home.

More tessellation in the honeycomb of hymenopterans (bees, wasps and friends)! It helps that pain is hilarious.

The city is an absolute treasure trove. Rectangular buildings, precise architecture, square sidewalks and straight lines abound...he may as well be looking at a rainbow or an art gallery! I think a Euclidean's brain is very fine-tuned to mathematics, especially in regards to trigonometry. What may appear to be a straight painting might appear obnoxiously crooked to him.

Zebras are high-contrast :]

Another flat surface, another relaxing space <3

I think graphs are about as high as high art gets to most Euclideans.

I've touched on shadows before, and for good reason; truly they must be something borderline magical to the Euclidean and perhaps bitterly nostalgic.

This one kinda speaks for itself. Dweeb.

🎨 The Artsy Stuff

Lately I've been trying to find ways to fit more color into my work, as color is perhaps one of my favorite things in the world. My wardrobe is rather garish; my dad jokes that you could see me from space. My fursona is obnoxiously bright for a reason -- I feel my soul is a very colorful one!

I also realized recently that I don't actually know the exact style that speaks to me. I could talk about the phenomenon of the "style crisis" that many artists have all day, but in my mind the best cure for this feeling is to go against it entirely and begin stealing as much as possible.

So, I've tried to keep an eye out for more sources of inspiration everywhere I go, physical and digital. I've tried to train my mind into making a habit of considering, "can I do anything with this?" everywhere I go, and it recently paid off!

The glittery rainbowy texture you see plastered all over Billiam is this one, a photo-manipulated set of fruit stickers. I must confess I've been obsessed with this image for the past 72 hours, and this seemed like a good excuse to try it out!

I worried throughout the process if it might be so abstract that it loops back around to being horribly deliberate, if that makes sense -- like each sparkle was not a piece of a whole but rather an object in itself -- but it seems like that hasn't been a problem, so I'm grateful for that :Dc

I hope it can dazzle and delight you as it does me, but as long as you find it fascinating at the very least then I consider it a success! I really enjoyed hearing my friends' interpretations while workshopping it, and got tons of amazing answers from opal to kaleidoscope to fossilized bone marrow! I truly believe that the best art has some room for interpretation and it really excites me to be surrounded by that kind of creative energy that follows said pieces. That definitely adds to my pride in this work. It's weird, it's colorful, it's detailed and yet ambiguous. I'm feeling pretty autistic about it

Alright, I think that's about it. Thanks for listening!

[junimosity]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆Stirring Skyscrapers - Pt. 2⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

part 1 - part 2

pairing: HarveyxAFAB!Reader

summary: after a rockslide blocks the road back to stardew valley, you find yourself stuck in zuzu city for the weekend. luckily for you, you weren't the only one at the bus stop - but make it the sequel

w.c.: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ (MDNI), no beta (we die like grandpa), fluff and smut, more cigarettes, mentions of alcohol, confessions, confessions! , sex under the influence, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (pls wrap it up), creampie, idk what else to say just read it pls!!!

divider by @saradika-graphics

It didn’t take long for you and Harvey to reach a mutual point of realizing it was time to go home. You composed yourself the moment you’d stumbled slightly on the dance floor, Harvey finding himself giving you a hand without question. You took it, although you didn't really need it, having danced out most of the alcohol that was sitting on your stomach full of an excellent, not to mention free, meal. 

“Mm, let’s get back to the hotel before it gets any later. Don’t wanna miss the,” Harvey hiccuped a little, “check out time.”

He was oddly well spoken for the amount of shots you’d both consumed, but it didn’t surprise you, not when you didn’t feel very far over the edge of inebriation yourself. You nodded in return, guiding him from the hand he offered you back to the coat check. 

“Ah, I think it’s here sm’where,” you patted yourself, much like he had back at the bus stop before, but with much less worry. “Aha!”

Harvey swallowed against the tightness in his throat as you pulled the two coat check stubs out of your bra. You cringed a bit at the dampness from all that dancing before handing them to the attendant with an apologetic grin. They rolled their eyes as they found your coats, you and Harvey both warm enough to not put them back on as you exited the club.

The streets were alive- eleven in the evening on a weekend, the busiest hour for the clubs of Zuzu. There was a line outside of the club you’d just left, some much younger people cheering as space opened up for them to enter. You and Harvey gave each other a mildly drunken glance at the hollers, laughing abruptly as you began to pace together, much slower than the party goers of the evening. 

“Wanna walk?” you asked, eyeing the overflowing subway station.

“Please,” Harvey sighed in relief. “I think’ve had ‘nough crowds for today.”

You thought back to just twenty minutes before, as a group of college boys formed a circle around him, cheering him on to do a handstand. He was clearly thinking of the same moment as he looked at his hands, probably remembering the sticky feeling of the dance floor. Remembering he’d washed them very shortly after, you felt a little urge to take a while longer. 

“Cig’rette?” You offered with a slur, finding the near full pack in your jacket. He obliged, grabbing the lighter from his own as you two lit up. The two of you found the entrance to a park nearby, glittering skyscrapers towering over the well maintained oaks, fractals of city lights shining through their leaves onto the pavement below. “We can get to the hotel through here.” 

“Lead the way,” Harvey spoke through a puff. 

The two of you began through the park, the night breeze chilling your sweat covered skins. This was as fresh as the air got around here, the scent of rubber and gasoline carried within it. It made your cigarettes smell akin to fresh stardew valley flowers. 

“If’m being honest with ya, I can’t really picture ya living here,” Harvey said, his voice a little hoarse after having to yell to communicate in the club.

“Hmm,” you responded as you took a puff. 

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, I just, uh,” He trailed off, trying to find the right words.

“No, no, I didn’t take it that way. I actually agree with ya,” you smiled. 

“Oh?” Harvey quietly inquired. 

“It’s hard for me to imagine how my life was before moving to the valley. It’s the smallest chapter of my life so far, but it kind of feels like I’ve been there the whole time. Or, like, I hadn’t really started living yet.” 

“I know what ya mean,” Harvey laughed. 

“Do tell.”

“Well,” he flicked some ash off as the park became quieter, the bustling club scene disappearing behind the oaks. “For starters, the whole Dave thing was a pretty strange start to my adult life.”

“Understandable,” you urged him to continue. 

“And after that, I did my residency in Grampleton. That was, well, Grampleton,” he shivered a little. “I found m’self working in the free clinic there more than the O.R., and I fell in love with it. Times were rough in the city then, and I found a listing for an ‘urgently needed physician’. It was Lewis, believe it or not.”

“So you moved to the valley on a whim?”

“Juuust like you,” Harvey slurred a bit, tie still wrapped around his head. It let you relax, not feeling like you had to try so hard to appear sober. 

“I’ll be damned, doctor Harvey,” you let out, stretching your arms above your head, jacket catching on the breeze. “You really are just like me. How did I not know any of this?”

“I guess I don’t really like to talk much about my time before Pelican Town. Never had much context to share with anyone,” he turned to you as you walked, your steps a little lazy. “Not neeearly as much context as introducing someone to Dave.”

“Pshh, you don’t need Dave to make your personal history interesting. You’re fuckin’ cool, Harveeey!” you laughed. “Don’t be mean to yourself.”

“You keep sayin’ that and I’mma have to-” Harvey very quickly heard himself, taking a drag of his cigarette to shut himself up as his eyes flew wide. 

“Oh, yeah? What are you gonna do?” You laughed again, turning to see him stopped a few steps back. “Harvey? Y’okay?”

“I-uh, I think I’ve had too much to drink,” he tried to make himself sound far more sober than believable. He sounded like that after only a single sip of wine. 

“Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?” You attempted as well, coming up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder with concern. “We’re almost out of the park, we can grab a bottle of water at the mini-mart on the corner.”

“(Y/N),”

“You know, if we walk through the grass we can get to the 8th street Joja, they’ll have electrolytes,”

“(Y/N), Harvey continued as you looked around. 

“C’mon, there’s a bench right there,” you didn’t listen, instead sitting down a few paces ahead. Harvey sighed out a little, placing himself next to you, awkwardly far. You turned to him quizzically, reaching over to grab the tie above his head and bring it back around his neck. You scooted closer to him as you fixed it under his undone collar, leaving it nice and loose. Your leg brushed up against his, and he breathed in deeply. 

Silence took over the two of you as you looked out into the dark park. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” Harvey breathed after a while, putting out his cigarette in the trash can next to the bench. “But it might be a topic better discussed in sobriety.”

“Oh no, am I in trouble, doc?” you tried to laugh, but your heart began to race a little. Were you in trouble? Was he about to place a boundary with you? Not that it would be a bad thing, but you thought you were having fun, perhaps even opening another chapter of your bond with him.  

“No! Yoba, definitely no,” he panicked a little, putting his hands up as he tried to turn back to you. He didn’t make the turn all the way though, finding himself facing directly forward into the park. You brought your head forward, trying to catch a glimpse of his face head on. Yoba, he was red. More red than the moment before. You almost asked if he was okay again when he closed his eyes and blew out a long breath. “I could never be angry with you.”

“What’s wrong, Harvey?” you asked a bit softer, realizing this was not a physical problem. Something was really weighing on him. Was it Dave? The club? Surely not after his breakdancing debut. Was it the hotel? Your heart rate quickened further. You really thought this night was headed in a much different direction. How stupid could you have been to think that little fantasy of yours would play out? Only one bed, how foolish it was. There was no chance in hell that you’d share it with him, let alone-

“(Y/N), can I ask you to-” he swallowed, “do something for me? You can say no. I won’t be offended, I won’t take it to heart. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” 

“Harvey,” you shook your head a bit, placing a hand on his forearm. “You couldn’t make me uncomfortable if you tried.”

The redness returned to his face. He could feel it himself, but he was too far into this to let it go now. 

“Can I kiss you?” Harvey asked, barely above a whisper.

Your ears began to ring. 

What in the fresh hell were you just telling yourself in your head? Your internal monologue of self-sabotage dissolved faster than the antacid you knew you’d have to take in the morning. 

“About damn time,” you said, considerably more enthusiastic than he expected. 

His head whipped to you as you clamped your mouth shut. 

“Wh-What do you mean?” he puttered, his arms relaxing. 

“Harvey, I’ve had a thing for you since the day I caught you in aerobics. You couldn’t tell?”

“But… but that was so not…“

“What? Hot? Harvey, you were wearing shorts. Have you seen how hot your thighs are?”

“Oh my Yoba,” he almost whimpered, moving to hide his head in his hands. 

“Don’t get shy on me now!” You laughed, pulling his arm away to reveal his beet red face broken out in laughter. “Seriously, Harvey!”

“I can’t believe you thought that was hot.”

“Sexy, even, if we’re having a moment of honesty.” You laughed along. “If I’m telling you, you gotta tell me.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” he pulled away with more laughter.

“Unfair!” you bantered with a playfully dropped jaw. “I just totally called your thighs sexy!”

“You can’t judge me when I tell you, okay?” He simmered down a little. You nodded obediently, wiggling to situate yourself with your hands on your lap, very patiently. Harvey looked at you, biting the inside of his cheek before finding the tree ahead of him very interesting. “Your first check up.”

“No fucking way!” you yelled, composed posture breaking. “You little pervert!”

“No, not like that!” he lightheartedly defended through his amusement. “You were so cute, and so nervous. You said it was because it was your first time to the doctors in a while but your chart said you had been the month before you moved to the valley. Also, your arms are super strong and-”

“I knew it!” you teased, blushing just as wildly as he. “You think I’m hot!” 

Harvey turned to you as you laughed again, his own simmering down with a sense of  relaxation and remembrance, recalling your presence on the day you first met, the way his breath hitched as you introduced yourself, bringing in your records to sign up as a patient. 

“No, that wasn’t it, actually.” he breathed, situating himself back into the bench, a leg coming up as his arm slid atop the back. “I knew it from the moment I first saw you. Before you even told me your name.” 

You couldn’t help but sit up straight at the confession, this taking a much more serious turn than you expected. Your heartrate didn’t cease to reflect that. 

“You came into the clinic like the first crocus in the snow. I knew warmer days were ahead when you smiled, and that they were here to stay when you said hello. You told me your name, and I haven’t thought of a word in any language as meaningful since.”

Your mouth parted as you let out a breathless gasp, the little air in your lungs swept away by his words. 

“All that said, though, you’re hotter than the sun…”

“Oh my yoba,” you boisterously laughed, the sound echoing off the nearby trees and through Harvey’s ribcage. He laughed with you, albeit much quieter, much preferring to hear your voice over his own. Your hand found its way over your mouth, trying to quiet yourself down, but Harvey reached across to you, entwining his hand with yours. 

“Can I kiss you, (Y/N)?”

“Please do,” you shook your head as you breathed out your answer, the two of you leaning in to greet the twin tastes of tequila and tobacco upon each other's lips. Neither of you needed much encouragement to find your hands much more than intertwined, grabbing at his tie to bring him closer as he pulled you by your waist. You two couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, your teeth clacking together as you laughed into one another breathlessly. Eventually, breathlessness superseded the kiss, your foreheads leaning together. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long, Harvey,” you breathed out, “truth be told, long before the aerobics incident.”

“Calling that an ‘incident’ is crazy,” he laughed again, “but go on.”

“Ahh, I'm so embarrassed by it! It’s not, like, an appropriate moment for me to have felt that way…” you pleaded. 

“I think we’re a little past that now…” Harvey assured you, bringing a hand to rest on your cheek. 

“Okay…” you sucked in a breath, looking away. “You might not remember, but it was at Evelyn and George’s, when I stopped in with the tulips…”

“The home visit, oh I remember. Only time George has ever taken my advice, and it was because of you.” 

“Yeah! That day… you were so, so patient with him. Having only just moved into my grandpa’s a few months before, I had a lot of memories about him in his last years resurfacing. And that care, attention, patience… all of those things you gave to George… Those are things my grandpa really needed then. It made me realize so much about my priorities in life, the people I surround myself with, the kind of person I’d want to grow to such an age with… that you were that kind of person.” You bit your lip, unable to worry about saying too much. It was already said. “I’m sorry that wasn’t as, uh, poetic of a confession…”

“You’d want to…” Harvey almost panted again, his breath hitching in his throat as his brows furrowed. 

“Ah, sorry, maybe that was a bit too much to share…” you attempted to backtrack, but Harvey pulled your chin to face him before you could get out another word. Your heart fluttered at his focused gaze, his chest heaving as if you’d just stepped off of the dancefloor. Whatever you’d just said flipped a switch in his demeanour. 

“I’m going to kiss you again.” He panted. “After that, we’re going to go back to the hotel. From there, you decide what happens. We go to sleep and talk this through another day, or-”

“Definitely Or,” you leaned into him without question, placing a far more intentional display of affection on his suddenly stoic lips. There was no more clacking of teeth or escaped breaths from giggles. In that moment, your lips pushed firmly against one another, a message displayed so clearly that it signaled the two of you to find your way back to the hotel with haste. 

--

The door swung open behind you as Harvey continued to kiss you, grabbing him by his tie again to both prevent you from falling and guide him to the edge of the king sized bed. 

“Wait,” Harvey breathed into you as you reached the bed, the back of your knees almost buckling, threatening to send you backwards. You broke apart from him heatedly, your own breath needed a moment to catch up with the sudden relocation. The two of you breathed hard in such close proximity, your hands flattening his loose tie over his wrinkled shirt. “I want to do this right.”

You sighed a little, almost in an expended laugh, but decided to hold back against questioning. If you’d learned anything tonight, it’s that Harvey rarely did anything without intention. Whatever he was thinking was in your best interest.

“Okay,” you breathed, a gentle smile finding your face. “I trust you.” 

His heart squeezed at your display of confidence in him. He’d had plenty of time to think long and hard about how he’d treat you in a moment of mutual passion. Your eyes, although patient and listening, told him loud and clear. 

Tell me.

Looking down to his feet for just a moment, he pulled off his glasses and folded them, placing them on the desk just behind. He returned his attention to you, grip tightening on your waist as he ever slightly tilted his chin up, looking down to you over his beautiful large nose. 

“I could keep you like this forever,” he breathed, running his hands over your bare arms, bringing them up to your cheeks. “Looking at me like that.”

“I could say the same,” you whispered back, closing your eyes and leaning into one of his hands. His breath quickened as you looked back to him through your lashes, a cheeky smile slipping through your earnest disposition. 

“Gosh,” he breathed, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I’ve thought about this time and time again… what would happen if I ever got the chance… what I would do to you,” he trailed off, feeling himself harden against his trousers at the thought. “Now that I have you here, I don’t know where to start.”

You smiled audaciously, biting at your lip. 

“I have an idea,” you began, hands sliding up his chest, feeling him shiver beneath you. You kept your eyes on his as you unbuttoned his shirt, one by one, taking a moment to brush the backs of your fingers along the bottom of his abdomen. You could see him tense under the dark line of hair, the path to your wants and needs, and you couldn’t help but suck in a breath at the feeling. 

Harvey stilled your hands as you grasped at his belt buckle, shaking his head with a  gentle ‘not yet’  before removing his shirt and sliding his tie off. He found your lips again and gently led you backwards onto the bed.

You released a few gentle moans as he trailed kisses down your neck and onto your chest, just to where your shirt stopped above your breasts. He helped you pull it over your head, bra following it, before laying you back down, kissing intently yet softly at your breasts. The cool air of the hotel stiffened your nipples immediately, garnering Harvey’s diligence. His tongue slipped out atop your nipple, the wet feeling making your hand find the back of his head as you groaned out. He pinched at the other; softly first, as if testing the waters, before going at it again a little harder. Your back arched into him in response, making him glance up at you while continuing his treatment.

Your lips parted at the crossroads of ecstasy, eyes shut but not clamped, hot breath escaping through the gentle whimpers you let out. This was what he wanted, waited for, for so long. He groaned against your breast, beckoning a stronger one out of you as the vibration made a divine stimulation. You almost whined as you felt him leave your chest, but looking down to see him reaching for your waistband made you shut right up. You sat partially to help him leverage your pants off, watching as his eyes fixated themselves on your panties. You blushed, more than already necessary, at the realization. You were still wearing a thong, the spare pair you brought so as not to show panty lines beneath your wedding guest dress. You didn’t get a chance to explain before he sat back, discarding your pants behind him, and gave you the most hot-blooded look of astonishment you’d ever seen on a man’s face. 

“You were wearing these all night long?” he whimpered, his finger tracing along their lacy edge at the corner of your thigh. His desirous stupor made you clench over air. “Fuck,” he sighed, falling back down to your hips, placing a kiss over your lower stomach before bringing his mouth over your barely covered heat. 

“I think I’ll have to wear these more often,” you playfully spoke, propping yourself up onto your elbows as he rubbed his fingers gently over your clothed folds. 

“Please, oh, please,” he could barely speak above a whisper as his head fell against your thigh, moving the tiny piece of fabric to the side. The air hit you with an extra chill, letting you know just how wet he’d made you. Harvey’s breath caught again as he exhaled against you. He brought a finger over them, getting a feel for just how wet you were, the sensation sending a chill across your whole body. 

Harvey wasted no further time basking in your resplendence, sending his exploratory finger into your yearning pussy. 

Your eyes rolled a little, focusing on the new feelling of his finger gliding within you. He felt around diligently, eyes flicking up to your face as he tested each spot, until your nose scrunched a little against a certain area. 

“There we go,” he purred against you, placing a gentle kiss to your clit as he caressed the same spot again. Your chest heaved and he could feel you clench against his finger, beginning to draw small circles over your clit with his tongue. You let yourself fall backwards, elbows giving out as he immediately assessed your hidden need. His pace quickened upon your face disappearing from his vision, a second finger finding its way inside before your legs began to respond. He held your waist down with his free hand, secretly thanking Yoba for giving him a reason not to touch himself then and there. 

“H-” you croaked, “Harvey, mm soo,”

“Go on,” he groaned into you, that same vibration making your body quiver, “I wanna taste you.”

“Oh fuck, Harvey, fuck!” you whined out loudly, hips pushing against his pressing arm as the stimulation brought you over the cloudline. He groaned again, feeling you squeeze against his slowing fingers. 

Your breathing evened as you felt your heartbeat across your body, looking down to see Harvey staring up at you in a lust-drunk trance, your wetness across his lips and chin. He found your eyes and immediately brought his hands under your thighs and over your hips, sliding you to the edge of the bed. He leaned down and gave the taste of you to your own lips in a series of sloppy kisses, hairy chest radiating heat over your exposed body, pulling away to stand and look down on you.

Beneath him, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy, bare chest adorned by the full color of your stimulated nipples, rising and falling. He did the thing again, raising his chin ever so slightly as he took you in. Slowly, his hands moved to his belt buckle, undoing it and discarding it Yoba knows where, all while maintaining steadfast eye contact with you. You brought yourself back onto your shoulders to get a better look, eyes breaking away from him reluctantly as he unzipped his pants and sent them to the floor. 

You couldn’t help but salivate at the immense girth that revealed itself, an eyebrow quirking upwards as you pictured the sensation of that rubbing up against the same spot his fingers found. Without question, you brought your knees up to your chest, spreading them out slowly, your fingers widening on your inner thighs.  

What an invitation. A flower opening up to be pollinated, fertilized. The sweetest of fruits in a beautiful garden, beckoning him to enter. 

He didn’t though, at least not yet, as he leaned down over you once again, inspecting your begging features with such earnestness before placing one more gentle kiss upon your lips. You gasped into him as you felt him breach your entrance, your soaking walls stretching wide to welcome him. He gasped again, eyes glued to yours as he slowly found himself fully sheathed within you. Your eyebrows quivered as he retracted, slowly letting himself out before entering fully again, faster and faster. You both groaned into each other as he found a pace, the sound of your union echoing off the high-rise windows. 

He was significantly more vocal than you expected, soft moans parting his lips and going into yours, your own like echoes of his lustful cries. Your legs closed over his back, ankles locking him over you as he found that spot again, his hips kicking it up a notch. Your arms flew under his and over his back, wrapping your hands around his shoulders at the heightened momentum. 

You whispered praises to each other, both of you emphasising just how good one was making the other feel. Harvey couldn’t tear his gaze away from you, tracking your reactions with every thrust, even when you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. He could feel you inching closer to another orgasm around him, your walls quivering around his aching cock. He grit his teeth as you clenched further, your orgasm washing over you with so much force that your legs tightened around him. He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t fight against you as you brought him into you, letting himself release at the deepest point. You both moaned into a kiss, sloppy and panting as he fully stilled within you, his arms resting by your head. 

“Fuck,” you moaned as Harvey rested his head atop yours, pulling himself out, the sound of your mixed orgasms echoing your words. He collapsed beside you, falling on his side to face you and rub a thumb over your cheek. He was still watching you as you turned onto your side to face him as well. 

“You alright, darling?” he questioned, thumbing at a bead of sweat atop your temple. The name almost made you ready for another round, but you opted for a gentle smile instead.  

“I’ve literally never been better,” you breathed, running a hand over his hairy chest. He grabbed it gently, bringing it to his mouth to place a gentle kiss. 

“I’ll be back in a moment,” he said against your hand before quickly standing up, finding his briefcase thrown off the bed where he’d placed it before. 

“What are you doing?” You called, rolling over a little to see him looking through the bag clumsily.

“Aha,” he cheered quietly before returning to you, tissues in one hand and a couple of suspiciously shaped foil packets containing something round. 

“You’re so sweet, Harvey, but isn’t it a bit late for a condom?” 

He laughed as he left the tissues on the bed before walking over to the bathroom, returning monetarily with two glasses of fizzing water. 

“They’re antacids, for the alcohol. Drink up,” he handed you a glass and clinked his own against yours before. You chuckled as you drank, not wasting a moment to wonder how the hell he knew you were thinking of taking one. He finished his quickly and grabbed the tissues from the bed, scooting over to you and placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder. “Can I help you clean up?”

“Ah, I was thinking I might just go ahead and take a shower,” you thought aloud, wincing a little at the flavor of the sodium bicarbonate. Harvey cocked his head to the side with a smile. 

“Can I help you clean up?”

You laughed as you placed your cup on the nightstand, coming back to him with a nod and a kiss. The two of you moved into the bathroom, leaving the bedroom in the light of the city, shining through the windows like rays of sun shining through leaves. 

You found yourselves basked in that light later, bodies intertwined beneath the sheets in a deep rest. That was until the sound of horns honking from the street below awoke you, followed shortly by some sharp knocks at the door. A muffled voice called out in anger, urging you to shove Harvey’s lightly snoring form.

“Sm’one’s at th’door,” you groaned into the dawn-lit room, turning around as Harvey stirred awake. He groaned, opting to wrap his arms around you instead. 

“It’s just fuckin’ Dave.”

[luli-lads]

My full thoughts and reactions as I read through it:

- EVIL LADY???? HOT VILLAIN LADY??? PERHAPDST??

- FRACTAL LIBRARY???!?!?!!?!!?! IM SO SICK HOLD ON

- WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING. IS THIS CHILD THE ACTUAL ADMIN???????? ....jas?

- I KNEW IT. I FUCKING KNEW IT. MY THEORY WAS CORRECT, THE LIBRARY MOVES. IT MOVES. OH MY GOD

- Is this the Phantom Thief Pea?

- Ohohoho more Hades-Persephone references I see

- Maybe Dimitri is going to be Sylus' antagonist hmm...

- MY SON!! HI MEPHIE :D

- PFFTTT HAHAHAHAHAAHHA NOT SYLUS PLAYING VIDEOGAMES WITH HIS SONS

- Oh my god the NDZ outfit without the choker....

- "You can definitely afford it..." IM WEAK. IM ON MY KNEES. OOOOUGHHHHH. I'LL GIVE YOU EVERYTHING

- we got stabbed 💀💀💀 can mc get some rest from the horrors 💀💀💀💀

- hehehe sylus yapping about cars is so cute

- 10.5 GRAMS OF SOUL. OW OW OW OW. THAT'S SO ROMANTIC AND ALSO PAINFUL

- OOUGHHHH THE SCENEEEEE HE LOOKS SO GOODDDDD KABDJABSKSBDKWBSKSBSJWBSJA

- pretty boy is sulking because his wifey won't believe in him *ant with bindle*

- what a hot couple. truly

- can we take this as confirmation that sylus noms souls/protocores(?)

- the association watching as mc participates in a killing contest with sylus: 👁️👄👁️

- DIMITRI WAS A RESEARCHER? i wonder if he built the arena there on purpose to hide the lab...

- maybe Westley is that woman we encountered at the beginning?

- OH MY GOD XAVIER CRUMBS???

- AND ZAYNE'S??? EMISSARY???

- AND RAFAYEL'S FUCK

- ARE ALL OF THEM TEST SUBJECTS!?!?!?!?!? DID THEY KNOW EACH OTHER?????

- "our little bomb" i'm going to cave your skull in

- ...origo core?

- thank god she didn't lose her memories 😭

- WAIT SYLUS WAS THE ONE THAT GOT US OUTTA THERE IN THE PAST TOO OMGGGG

- WAS THAT YOUNG SYLUS. HOLD ME

- i'm going to kill a hostage. we're gonna get more info on zayne's relationship with the divine???? u promise???? AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

- higher beings. yes. yes. fuck. yes. please. give it to me. the caller. please. please. please. please.

- Neroooo hiii 🥰🥰🥰

- i'm guessing Zayne wants to join the project to take it down from the inside??

- HAHAHAHAHA HOW MANY SWEETS DOES THIS MAN EAT

- hehehe there's that DB nudge, let's see how it develops though...

- oh.

- is this gonna be a split personality situation...

- THE EPISODE NAME IS 'DAWNBREAKER' STRAIGHT UP. NOBODY MOVE

- IM GOING TO FUCKING CRY. THEY MENTION HIM BY NAME. MY BOY.

- i'm literally shaking i'm not joking

- i can't believe Zayne has officially reached serial killer status in the main story

- his voice 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

- IM??????????? LIKE I—??????

- HE'S OFFICIALLY DAWNBREAKER EVERYONE CHEERED 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

- oh my god...............

- he still hates carrots lmao

- he DOES have some kind of DID omg........

- BAI!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S BAI!!!! fucking hell all of Zayne's timelines are converging...

- oh Zayne knows the boy? interesting

- hold on hold on hold on. i think i get it. this lil dude is the same boy at the end of the fractal library story, and not its actual admin. that's why he knows so much about it still.

- WAIT. FUCK. NEVERMIND I GUESS???????

- ASTRA SKDBANSBQJSBAJSBAKSBQKSBS

- 7 years ago... I wonder why Zayne made that promise though. Maybe he thought by accepting the role he could save MC? Or something?

- i don't vibe with this child anymore

- my theories about the library were right 😋💅🏻✨ they hate to see a bad bitch predicting better than the Foreseer

- CARTER MENTION. CARTERRR. CARTER MENTION WOOOO

- YOU BELIEVED RIGHT CAUSE I WOULD DO ANYTHING YOU ASKED

- i've been shaking my hands so violently that my wrists hurt now

- feeding zayne cookies while he drives 🥰

- YOUNG ZAYNE

- i'll be your lab hamster mouse

- Carter reminds me of Carlton Drake from the first Venom movie

- ksbsjssbsjs Carter is practically drooling at the fact that he got Zayne to visit

- no, he doesn't need any more sugar, trust me Carter 😭

- rip Shiqi 🫡🍫 i would've done the same

- me when i accidentally predicted Zayne freezing Carter to a surface in my fic about them

- "I have a more trustworthy colleague to work with now." HOW IN THE HELL YOU'RE GONNA WRITE THAT AND NOT MAKE ME THINK CARTER AND ZAYNE HAD SOMETHING GOING ON BETWEEN THEM HELLO?????

- also predicted his mouth being frozen shut for being a yapper woah. my power............

- HOT COUPLE NUMBER TWO OOUGHHHH

- can benedict die already

- I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT. I PREDICTED IT. THE MT ETERNAL VICTIMS. I SAID IT. FUCK. I HATE MYSELF

- was that astra. did astra say that. i'm going to throw him off a cliff

- ON THAT NOTE, we have confirmation that dawnbreaker was also caused by astra........... this motherfucker can't give it a rest huh

- can the horrors leave Zayne alone pls. why is he living Silent Hill

- did he just

- dawnbreaker....... tried to......

- RESIGNATION!?

- :((((((((((((((((((

- the creator???????????? whomdst????

- AW THAT'S THE END OUGH

.....time to pull out the whiteboard and red string once more

[guildtree]

Controversial opinions on the nature of Guild Wars 2 below, ye have been warned:

I have been cooking a theory that a lot of the problems the tumblr portion of the GW2 fandom has with the game rn is based off the way the fandom thinks of this game as a story-focused game when it is very much not. It is an MMO.

Has the story, especially the after-expansion patches, been a bit lacking storywise? Yop. Not arguing that. My hot take is that this has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with the overall health of the game, and that they SHOULD NOT be focusing entirely on story like they did in LS4.

This is an MMO. It lives off microtransactions, people buying gold, and sinking ungodly hours into it. The story is a vehicle to get people into the new maps, new metas, new legendaries, new builds and whatnot. It introduces a new area, characters, and enemies to kill for hours upon hours after. It is not the main selling point of an expansion for most people who are not on tumblr too much - which means, most of the playerbase.

There are so many people who don't give a shit about the story but love the game. Those people are getting stuff - a new raid wing. New Fractals on a regular schedule. More maps. More metas. New mechanics and masteries. (Small) updates to PvP and WvW. Lots of new gemstore stuff, new legendaries to grind. All of these things, in my opinion, are much more critical to the long-term health of the game than the story will ever be.

So yeah, for us who love story, it kinda sucks that it's been on a bit of a downturn. I'd argue that it's getting BETTER, as Janthir was better than SotO for me, but it's not up to RPG quality, and it probably never will be! THAT'S OKAY.

So yeah, it's fine to complain about it but I think it's shortsighted and a little ridiculous to claim that the game is dying because a few story patches were a little weak, and we should try to remember that we are far from the only people playing this game and there are other aspects of it to be considered.

Also everyone saying they're never buying an expansion again is totally going to pre-order the next one once they watch the first cool trailer, fight me.

[shallow-wordsalad]

Words mean things.

That must be true, because otherwise language doesn't function. If words were entirely meaningless, there would be no difference between talking and nonverbal grunting—everything conveyed through context and inflection. That's obviously not the case; words do have meaning, and we've largely agreed on those meanings within languages. However, when I say "watermelon" and you say "watermelon", we're imagining different things. If I said "wow that box was as heavy as a watermelon", you might be confused if I look tired when saying it.

Watermelons aren't that heavy, you think. You're thinking of the personal watermelons you had every summer, that you bought to split with your family over a barbecue. You could carry them as a kid, they're small.

I'm thinking of the larger watermelons that my dad bought to cut into cubes and put in the fridge for a week's worth of lunch snacks. They were huge and took a while to break down. They shook the table when he set them down.

We said the same word, but we meant different things. The words had concrete definitions, but the exact meaning is something we assigned ourselves, which defines only our own perception of the word and all associated with it.

Now what do you picture when I say "rock?" What shape is it? Can you pick it up?

Which is bigger: "Huge", or "Giant"?

Which is worse: An "injury" or a "wound"?

Which is faster: A moment, or an instant?

Define the color teal. Now define grey.

Define "male" and "female".

Define "lesbian", "gay", "bisexual", "transgender," and "queer".

Define "pornography". Define "sex".

I'm sure you can. I'm sure someone can give me exact data that empirically proves their definition. You could point to a scientific or medical or geological database that gives a certain, absolute definition. And yet I can point to something which exists somewhere on the fringe of your definition. Do you expand your definition to include that fringe case, or rigidly insist that "words mean things" and insist we call that thing something else?

In one field, words lose meaning—anything can mean anything, and we're back to pointing and growling in context. In the other, we subdivide everything into increasingly smaller boxes, rigidly assigned words in a fractal of definitions.

Words mean things. Whatever "things" are.

[salemrph]

Who the fuck wrote Zayne's lore? Come here and clean my fucking tears.

If your haven't played the main story yet. Come back later. Spoiler alert about DEATH AND REBIRTH.

Gosh, I finally finished Death and Rebirth—what a trip!! I had forgotten how painful Zayne’s path is… his mission, the punishment from Astra. There was a moment where I had to put the iPad down. I literally screamed—I was so mad at him.

Like… quitting his job as a doctor? Really, Zayne? That’s how you think you’re helping MC? That’s your brilliant choice? Becoming the very nightmare you’re so afraid of?

I can’t stand the fact that Zayne is, once again, doing his thing to “protect” MC. Like, “If I disappear, everything will be fine.” Nooo! Fucking no! It didn’t work when you were the Master of Fate or the Foreseer. It didn’t work in any timeline.

And that little shit—sorry, boy—who came to take Zayne to the Fractal Library… I’m very pissed off. Hahaha.

Can Zayne really escape his destiny—of either hurting her or hurting himself? He’s basically condemned or committed to being the guardian of the Library… a role that forces him to give up the feelings he has for MC and walk away from her.

The Fractal Library is a space that belongs nowhere—a realm where every timeline and universe intersects. Eventualities are captured in a book, an infinite sea of possibilities. And being the guardian of something like that turns you into nothing more than a silent observer, forever watching, never allowed to be part of the story.

And this love he has... will maybe just be part of another book. A distant dream.

I need to cry... I'm not okay with this. Not okay that Zayne is suffering so much. His story is my end game.

"I hope we do not meet again"

[adrift-in-thyme]

🎉Congrats on the milestone! 🎉 Your fics are always so lovely, I love reading your work! ❤️

As for a fic request, could I ask for something with Four? Could be something with Colors, with the chain or with fairy!Time or just by himself, whatever you feel like. I would like him to have just a small, slow, happy moment.

Awww tysm!! <33

Certainly! This was such fun to write. I hope you enjoy it!

————————————————————

“Mind if I ask what you’re doing, smithy?”

Slowly, Four cranes his neck to look behind him. Normally, in this small form he would feel a thrill of panic at the sound of someone’s approach. But the voice is familiar, and today has been surprisingly devoid of threats upon the heroes’ lives. He is safe to indulge in the comfort of remaining where he is, lying on his back upon the ground. 

His hands rest upon his abdomen, his hair splays out like a halo around his head. The earth is soft beneath him, warm from baking all day in the summer’s heat, and the proud blades of grass stand as shields from the afternoon sun. 

“Watching the clouds,” he says. 

Time cocks his head. The light reflects off of his wings in delicate fractals of red and blue. His hair looks the color of spun gold. Twinkling with mirth, his eye matches the joyful sky above. Silhouetted against the vibrancy of a joyful day, the hero looks far less severe than he does when leading and protecting their little group. More like a simple man, rather than the famed Hero of Time. 

Four likes that. He always appreciates the moments when he gets to see his brothers comfortable, free. They bear responsibilities too great for even the broadest shoulders. If he, in his small and quiet way, can allow them to soothe the fractures within for just a moment, he is glad of it. 

And the fact that Time has grown comfortable being around him in his fae form makes him even happier. He knows all too well the burden of being so very different. 

So very vulnerable. 

He has seen the haunted looks he and Rulie get sometimes, the scars they cannot conceal, the way they eye certain travelers they meet upon the road. It is good to see some of that guarded trepidation flee. 

“Watching the clouds, eh?” With a sigh, Time sits down beside him. “What does that entail?”

His tone is teasing, and an easy smile is on his face. Four returns it. 

“It’s something Grandpa and I did when I was young.” He points up at a sizable puff of gallant white speeding across the heavens. “You catch the clouds and make shapes out of them. That one looks like an octorok.”

Time chuckles. “Ah, yes, I’m familiar with the concept. Malon and I did it many years ago when we were children.” He sighs and a mischievous grin tugs at his lips. “Of course, now I’m too dull and old for such trivialities.”

Four sends him a flat look. “You may fool the others with those comments about your age, but not me.” 

Time lifts a brow. “No?”

“Nope.” Four shakes his head. “I’ve seen you fight. You’re hardly dull, and you’re certainly not old.”

Time lays back, keeping enough distance between them that his wings don’t drift into Four’s face. With a somber expression, he gazes up at the sky.

“Don’t you dare tell the others that. It’s difficult enough leading them without them realizing I do not, in fact, possess the wisdom of the elderly.”

If he didn’t know him quite so well, Four would think he was being serious, that this matter truly was a dire one prone to wound him. He can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes.

“Alright.” He squints, watching as a cloud that vaguely resembles a chu drifts by, lazier than its fellows and falling behind. “I’ll keep your secret on one condition.”

“I swear that one looks like a Deku scrub,” Time says, pointing, then turns a quizzical eye to him. “What is your condition?”

Four grins. “You tell me how old you actually are. You know, on the inside.”

Time’s expression instantly morphs into a scowl. 

“I reject your condition.”

Four’s grin grows larger, tugging at his cheeks. 

“Why? It’s only an innocent question. Malon refused to tell us, so I thought maybe you would.”

“I see. Malon respected my privacy, leading you all to seek out the dark truth for yourselves.” 

“When you say it like that, it sounds as if you’re hiding something dastardly.” Four giggles as he turns his gaze back to the sky. “Are you truly that ancient?”

Time blows out a sigh. “You wound me, smithy. Here I thought we could sit in restful silence and watch the clouds, only to find that you are as set upon destroying me as the others. I still reject your condition. I will rest easy with the knowledge belonging solely to me. Besides” — there is a definite smile in his voice, brimming with mirth — “your secret-keeping abilities are quite poor.” 

“Hey!” Scowling, Four lightly smacks the older hero on the arm. “They are not!”

Time chuckles and gestures upward. “There’s one that looks like the pigs in Wind’s Hyrule.” 

“You’re not getting out of this that easily.” 

But the cloud does truly resemble a plump little pig, something that suddenly seems very comical to Four. He dissolves into laughter and Time joins him. Time’s jab is soon forgotten in the breathless freedom of open joy. 

And when the laughter subsides, they remain in comfortable silence, laying side-by-side, gazing up at the sky. 

[bread-into-toast]

Spinning off from this post and this post, we have: Animorphs as Undersiders!

except, why would each of them gain powers all at once in the Wormverse? Hmm…

Sike! We're doing Animorphs as Travellers.

a battle between the Simurgh and Cauldron results in a dying Cauldron scientist passing the Aleph teens a case of vials - and a task to find his nephew in their now-ruined city they've appeared in on Earth Bet. They'll have no chance surviving the incoming Simurgh bomb - without it. The teens accept.

Jake is Sunset, a pyrokinetic beacon of hope or force of destruction.

Marco is Spawnpoint, able to disrupt the battlefield - and his friendships - with taunts and teleporting misdirection.

Rachel is Xena, her rage and joy able to send things flying like bullets. She'd better watch her aim...

Cassie is The Garden. Maybe if she retreats into herself hard enough, imagines the right shape, the right form, she can save everyone…

Tobias doesn't seem to have any powers, yet. Not when asked.

Oddly, the case the group was handed contained 5 vials and not the 6 that were promised; but it was chaotic, wasn't it? Maybe the scientist misspoke.

After battling biotinker Master-controlled minions, they eventually find the trapped Cauldron scientist's nephew, Ax, who'd snuck himself the missing vial of Control in the Cauldron facility just before everything went wrong. Transformed into an inhuman beauty, Ax also has vivid awareness of Shardspace and entities, and his knowledge gives them valuable insight into surviving the machinations of the Simurgh and Doctor Mother.

a life or death fight reveals Tobias' monstrous powers. A fractal burst of hungry flesh, he is Typhon - a predator who devours, dragging everyone into the maw of himself.

with the time bomb of Tobias' progressively strengthening hunger, and the knowledge Ax has of how close to dooming Aleph and Bet Scion is, can the team get the Protectorate and its heroes to believe they aren't Smiurgh bombs too - and stop the end of the world? When will they ever go home again?

[irreverent-saints]

PREVIOUS NEXT FIRST

Mirages Of Paradise

Idun sat by the river, staring at her meandering reflection. She took a deep breath. The stream bubbled alongside birdsong, alpenglow brought distant hills to life, and for just a moment there could be peace. She closed her eyes. She savoured each tickling grass against her skin, each oddly shaped tree, and each break between the hunger pangs. Clouds towered over her. Soft like cotton. Wispy, ephemeral threads upon the sky. Oh to be there, in the realm without pain and toil, where no burden weighed heavier than a feather. It all waited for her. Within it, rest, contentment, parents, siblings. She dug her fingers into the dirt. This trial wouldn’t last forever. But for now, she knew what she had to do.

She experienced adequate sleep that night. Her body had rested, but she still woke with dark eyes and a weight in her chest. She doused her face in cold water and went through the gear she had readied the night before. Idun kicked at her wall, as hard as she could. She pushed and shoved, turning anxiety to anger, and anger to fuel.

“You’ve done this before, you’ll do better this time,” she told herself. A meagre soup of nettles and carrots, a quick read through her field notes. That was all she got. Idun lit a spindly candle. It took about a minute for the wick to burn up. She filled the time with a prayer and a quick reflection upon her life. Any longer and she’d lose her mind, hindering her efforts.

Soon she hurried over the tundra. Every step had to be quick as a hare and nimble as a fox. Were she to hesitate, she’d risk turning around, risk slowly starving…. With determination she could march straight towards a quicker, less painful demise.

She found herself amidst towering, tangled foliage. She kept on high alert, collecting what she needed. Seeds, fruits. Stalks. Anything with sugars and fat. Birds sang, trees were in bloom. The humid air smelled of flowers. She stared at the canopy, a massive ceiling. Branches twisted like fractals, intertwined until she could no longer tell where one tree ended and the other began. Mushrooms lit up the floors, a blue glow throughout the landscape. Deer grazed, minuscule next to the tree roots. She pressed her back against a rock. She picked another berry, eating it then and there. This was not the murky, hostile forest she had first ventured into, nor the eerily quiet backdrop of a murder. Absent of Jotun, this place was alive.

She lowered her shoulders. A dove flew past her. It cooed, bundling up inside a purple flower. Idun scanned for any sudden movements. Conspicuously hairy trunks, a tail that coiled like a vine around a tree, a wolfish eye amidst yellow azaleas. Her face felt warm, and she had a slight flutter in her chest. For the first time in weeks a smile emerged on her face. She picked a small white flower, no bigger than her palm, and placed it behind her ear. As she did, laughter rang through the valley. She jumped, clutching her knife. The laughter continued.

Laughter, not jeering, not mockery. It must have been at least three voices, chatting away with infectious glee. It came from somewhere down in the marsh. They spoke in a melodic fashion. Idun spotted two tall pairs of antlers in the peat. She looked closer and noticed three more. They walked in a straight line, ranging from the size of a rabbit to a moose. They all wore intricate robes that covered most of their body. Their long wispy tails entangled. They held hands, almost as if they feared their friends would disappear if they were to let go.

“Well, how do you usually steal from him?” One asked. The other shushed them.

“Stealing happens when you get caught. Take something he won’t ever miss, and remain stealthy. That way we wont be thieves,”

“We would never want to steal. That’s just horrible,” another agreed.

“What if he catches us?”

“Well. My cousin lost his hand to him. Heckling. Jaws. Too slow,”

Trolls. She lowered herself, giving them all a wide berth.

“Don’t be afraid. He’s sluggish and mellow. It takes a very annoying person to trigger a fight,” the third troll chimed in, “his currants are well worth the risk,”

“A garden with as many different plants as there are grains within an hourglass! A river as clear as glass and as giving as the sea! You must see it for yourself,”

“But, are the rumours true?”

“Quiet. It’s fine,”

They went on their merry way, seemingly oblivious to Idun’s presence. She watched as the strange beings marched. From many yards away the largest antlers were visible like a bright sign. She crept out of hiding. She wouldn’t follow them, but her steps would line up with theirs eventually. She walked slowly, with a pit in her stomach, yet she couldn’t change course. Those glimmers in the distance almost seemed to beckon her, and before she knew it she had put miles behind her.

The forest opened up. She found herself atop a cliff. Beneath it a coursing river. An intense glow warmed her face, causing shadows to appear jagged and blocky. Sunlight. She covered her eyes. When she looked again a huge garden laid in front of her. A mountain wall cradled it. Berries and flowers bloomed like a chaotic, scattered rainbow. Rays of sunshine landed through holes in the canopy. Against the otherwise dark forest it was almost as if the light itself was an object you could hold like fine threads of silk. The far edges were covered in thick, impenetrable forest. The trolls were already crossing the shallow, rocky part of the river.

A huge arch stood within the mountains face. A wooden door, dozens of meters tall. Intricately carved. Around it were various tools, and what looked to be a makeshift veranda. She stayed behind, opting to watch the intruders from a safe distance. They played around in the thick grass and helped one another steal. Others decided this was the perfect time to snuggle up under a thick tree root and stare out at the river. She narrowed her eyes. The Jotun could wake at any time, ready to tear them apart last and devour every last one. But these vapid creatures showed zero concern. One plucked a strawberry, passing it amongst his friends in the meadow. One seemed to be asleep. Another one raced over slick boulders by the water. He paced in a zigzag pattern. That went on for a while, until she heard a shriek. She ducked. The troll had slipped. He grabbed at his side, leaning over with a grimace.

What were you expecting, Idun thought, that’s what you get for treating the world around you with zero concern. The troll cried. His friends all perked their ears. Soon the entire group huddled near him. Arms around his shoulder. Kisses on his forehead. Within minutes they coaxed him up on his feet again, wiping sand from his wound and tears from his eyes. Idun walked away with a clump in the back of her throat.