#╰┈➤ ┊❛ continued game…? / thread continued. ❜┊

[enkays-den]

(hopefully) Final Update! Skizz supports trans rights!

I will let Skizz speak for himself, because he did it pretty dang well, with some highlights courtesy of me

"Hello all, just gonna drop this right here. I wish to clear up some churn over this stream that was just starting to spin a bit out of control, and quickly at that. Simply put, I was feeling really happy and good with the vibes of the stream (As I most often do), and failed to vet a dono msg prior to instantly reading it out loud. The message was centered on my support of the LGBTQ community and more over requesting I explicitly state aloud “Trans Rights”. My response was instant and not totally well thought out. While I do think that there is an unfortunate political dynamic to the LGBTQ community, the word I was actually trying to conjure up was “polarizing”. The reason I’d rather not delve into said polarizing topics is because of what inevitably comes from it. There were several comment threads of people going back and forth at each other over this. Much of which was cordial, some not so much, and all of it not fitting for the comment section of one of my stream VODs. I’ve removed them all because it’s just not the place for it. Obviously I believe in trans rights as we’re all people, every one of us. I just don’t fancy, and never will, being told what to say. It’s not lost on me how stubborn I can be. 😊 There was actually some talk that I’m open to harnessing hate in my community. Not sure where I slipped up to give that impression so let me be crystal clear; hate is not tolerated here and never has been. It literally means nothing to me what one’s take is on any matter. I could agree whole heartedly but if the position is delivered in a fashion designed to cause pain, discomfort or divisiveness on any level, then please take that somewhere else. This is indeed intended to be a safe space. So to that end, if you want to hang out where the vibes are real and the good times continue to roll, well then I’m looking forward to seeing you at the next stream. If you’d rather be a part of the seemingly endless game of disposition ping-pong, I completely respect that but politely request you all meet at another forum to do so. Now genuinely…..genuinely…..be good, be good to each other, and I’ll see you soon."

So all in all, about what I expected, with two notes:

There was some discussion in the youtube comments saying anon shouldn't have paid Skizz to say 'trans rights', and that is fair. SHOULDN'T is a strong word, as Skizz is notoriously bad at reading his chat and this person clearly wanted to be heard and validated. Either way, try not to use donations to coerce content creators to say things like a damn puppet! Not even Joe!

Don't take his attitude of "disposition ping-pong" to heart

Thank you for being kind in the comments. There were a few people that were getting a little spicy in the approach, but I'll choose to believe that those people did not come from my post. Skizz was not actively encouraging hate with his words, but he also didn't acknowledge the harm that inaction can do.

Keep your tone calm and your points reasonable, be resolute in your feelings, and know that you can only state your feelings, not force action. That is the way to keeping these sorts of discussions calm.

If this is all a devastating ordeal, please take this as hopefully the hardest lesson that the content creators themselves are not the safe space: it's the people in that safe space. If Skizz doesn't want to say "trans rights", find people that will scream it for you. Fandoms and cc's will rise and fall, but friendships and bonds can last FAR beyond that. THAT is your home. Your blorbo is simply the 30 posters you glue to the wall.

This is hopefully my final update as Skizz spoke concisely and without any places to hide. DO NOT BLOW THIS UP. I gave him explicit permission to delete my comment because I knew he would have to, and I hold no grudge against him for it. I am happy with his answer. I still love him as a content creator just as much as I did yesterday morning. I'll wish him the happiest of birthdays on Saturday. Rest easy knowing that you have your answer, one way or another

And for those of you that need it:

An anonymous trans donator asked skizz if he'd say a "trans rights" for pride month and he softly shut it down saying "this channel about good times good vibes, and not anything political. I've got nothing against anything, I've driven that home."

I know it's parasocial to be disappointed that a man in his mid 40s considers queer rights a political topic and it doesn't mean I won't watch him but,,,,, I couldn't help but feel my heart sink a little as that played out live. Skizz says he wants to bring happiness, and joy, and that's literally all this person wanted. A firm, no room for doubt affirmation that Skizz sees and cares for his trans fans. I don't think he's transphobic, but I do think he has a misconception about why saying "trans rights" matters, and why it SHOULDNT be political. Pride month exists for the same reason there's a women's month, and a black history month, and a Juneteenth, and a Veteran's Day. We are lucky to be alive, and we're still fighting for our rights to this day, so we need times to just celebrate our continued existence.

And like,,,, I'm sure that he's heard a lot online but the discussion on trans rights is only political because basic human rights are being denied to trans people for no reason other than bigotry. We want basic human rights for all, for trans people, gay people, disabled people, people of color. We want the standard of care the government and its services and the businesses of our country to be better, more accessible, and affordable for EVERYONE, regardless of gender, race, political belief, religion. The fact that THAT desire is a political matter is because politicians keep denying it.

There were also members of his chat that subtlety ragged on the anonymous donator, saying it was "weird" and "cringe". I have no words for them.

I know Hermitcraft is supposed to be a safe space, and a place to get away from the world's problems, but so you know what is counteractive to that? Bigotry. Transphobia. There are so many young queer fans of hermitcraft, and to say that their existence, this one little piece of affirmation isn't allowed, is insulting and disheartening. Good vibes isn't all free speech and being neutral, it's explicitly saying "you are safe here. I see that you are in danger and you are safe."

I will also leave this video here because I think it's important to be firm about keeping bigotry out of your community, regardless if it means you get less viewers or are seen as "political"

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Tag Game: Scenes I will never forget

Rules: Share 5-10 scenes you can't forget. Not your favourites, the ones that got stuck in your brain for any reason.

Tagged by @thisonelikesaliens 😘

I love this prompt, because a lot of tags are about favorites, but there are so many scenes that have more complexity than that, and are harder to classify. Going to stick to QL, since that's what most in my head these days.

1. Until We Meet Again was one of my earliest BLs, and one of the most impactful. From the first episode, I was so struck by how Korn had forced Intouch to watch him die, and how utterly traumatizing that must have been. This is not meant in a victim-blaming way at Korn for his choice, he was in so much pain, but he did do something that hurt the one he loved the most in the most brutal way possible and I needed it to be fully acknowledged. And then, close to the end, we got the moment that both destroyed me, and absolutely needed to happen for the story as a whole to work. Intouch finally had a chance to express his pain and trauma over what Korn did. Fluke's acting here gave me chills, and the catharsis I needed.

Close second is the scene with the fathers of Korn & Intouch tying the red threads, which made me cry so hard I've never been able to watch it again.

2. Manner of Death. This was the first BL I watched that wasn't romance-focused, and I ate it up with a spoon. But it was also quite a powerful and raw story. When the killer is murdering Jane, and you understand all of the despair and confusion and hurt that Jane is experiencing at the hands of someone she utterly loved and trusted, it's both heartbreaking and unforgettable.

Since none of us want to see that in gif form, as solace, have Great shirtless.

3. DNA Says Love You. I will never stop talking about how underappreciated this series is. Because Amber is a very internal character, we learn things about him slowly. But what really sticks out to me is this scene, where is he eating the cake that he used to have with this family as a child. And the memories that come back are just so overwhelming. Le and his mother at this point have no context, just see their guest crying over cake, but are still so sweet and kind despite their bewilderment.

4. Not Me. Needs no explanation. Honestly, I could pick about 10 scenes from this series. I am so beyond excited P'Nuchy is coming back to direct again.

5. Perfect 10 Liners. I know I'm not the only one who connected fiercely with Faifa, and how deft he was at wearing a positive face over his pain. I will never forget his face in this moment, while the rest of his family is happily reconnecting, and completely ignoring him and his obvious feelings, because they only ever care to see the illusion when he is present.

6. He's Coming to Me. Another series that doesn't get talked about nearly enough. The early scene with Med walking through the graveyard, as time passes and people change around him, visiting all the other graves while he is alone, has always stayed with me. It evokes such bittersweet sadness for Med, until it's broken by the first appearance of Thun.

7. Ghost Host Ghost House. What can I say, I like my ghost stories. I could pick multiple options from this show, but in this case, I have to go with the couch scene, because it's one of the best "dear lord give me strength" moments ever from Pluem, while Kawin, of course, knows exactly what he's doing with those short shorts, the little devil. They are telling us so much with zero dialogue.

8. Old Fashion Cupcake. Almost this entire series lives in my head, but the confession is just an incredibly directed and acted scene. Continuous shot, the camera matching the chaotic energy of the actors, following Nozue as he gets increasingly desperate to flee, and Togawa as he gets increasingly desperate to keep Nozue with him, culminating in both one of the best kisses, and one of the most painful moments, as Togawa thinks he's just lost Nozue forever.

9. Secret Crush on You. A lot of credit goes to the translators for this moment, where they did such an incredible job expressing the beauty and respect in Intouch's manner of speech to Daisy, and all that it conveyed. There is so much we miss due to translations, and I will never forgot someone taking the time to make sure we understood the important context between the words, for such an important character and all she represented.

10. Semantic Error. This one also has so many moments I could pick, but this scene, the code switching in their conversation, the kiss, and what it says about the characters, has a permanent rent free spot in my brain.

I also feel like I need to do an honorable mention for Sorn jacking Jun into a koi pond as a series intro, because I don't think I'll be forgetting that anytime soon.

No pressure tags @sunshinechay @infinitelyprecious @le-trash-prince @slayerkitty @poetry-protest-pornography

[hedwigoprah]

Thursday Bangers (from a couple weeks ago)

As if I’d miss the Taylor Swift prompt 🤭

Thanks again @woundedsoul12

I’ve loved you three summers now honey, but I want them all.

Lover by Taylor Swift

This prompt was different for me because I actually know the song for once.

This one started out as something and then went somewhere else. Here’s your content warning for a panic attack.

@serensama does this count as a WIP? I wrote it this morning 😉

2.4K words that I’ll probably publish to AO3 later. Probably with more thorough edits too. Please forgive my errors, it was 4am when I started this.

If she bit at it any more her thumb would start bleeding. She hadn't really even noticed she was doing it until the zip of pain of her nailbed being breeched gave warning. Veryl took a quick look at her finger before tucking it into a fist and leaning forward on her knees. The bouncing was jarring but it did what it needed to.

They were playing games tonight in the main hall. A few rounds of cards and then something with dice that they were laughing and yelling about now. Veryl had tried hard to concentrate on it but her heartbeat kept accelerating unprompted, making it more difficult to keep up.

The weird heaviness she had felt at the start of the day had not abated. She thought that sparring or even running on their rare off day might help to alleviate the feeling, but no luck.

Reading while Bellara tinkered on something in her workshop didn't help. Nor did talking with Neve about theories, or keeping Lucanis company while he cooked— a mostly silent endeavor. When quiet activities had failed, she turned to hitting things with Taash or playing tag with Assan.

The well just seemed to open further and further. The pressure of wasting a day of rest compounding the gaping absence of… something.

And there was no direct cause she could point at. Of course there were a lot of variables that could trigger something like this, but in most cases she usually felt comforted by the lack of conclusions they could draw. They knew that it would be hard, and that was all she needed to know to get through it.

Life was reasonably okay, they were safe for now.

If she had to guess, it was probably that lingering feeling in inadequacy that she kept fed and silent most of the time. Visiting Varric hadn't really soothed that beast. His injury had brought forward all the shit that went wrong in Nevarra. The choices she made. The loss of life. Inevitable consequences and fallout. These people, so talented and worthy, didn't deserve someone who couldn't protect a team.

And when this was over? What was to become of them? They'd continue their lives and close the book on this part. It would become a mere talking point at parties. She would become a character in a story they repeated to children around a camp fire.

A few heads looked up when the dining room chair scraped against the flagstone. The sudden announcement of her movement was anomalous but she couldn't be bothered right now. Not with the thoughts that circled and tightened themselves like the threading of a bolt.

"Darling? Is everything alright?" Emmrich glanced up from the small book he had been reading while the others played their game. He had been keeping them company after dinner, electing to put his current research on hold for the evening.

Harding also watched, only half paying attention to the game. She was the only one who had witnessed this kind of behavior from Veryl before. Once. Back in the early days. Pacing their room at a tavern like a caged animal.

Veryl had gotten into an unprovoked fight that night. It wasn't her greatest moment.

But then, which of them were?

"Rook?" Emmrich asked more specifically this time, leaning to catch her attention from where it focused on the table between them.

Veryl watched briefly as his posture adjusted to bring more of his focus to her, turning his body, closing his book before marking the place, a frown starting to form between his eyebrows.

And she left.

She was out the kitchen door within seconds. Her few long strides were quick and silent. No one would really notice she hadn't vacated the premises,

Though Emmrich would come looking for her, that much she had ensured.

Did she want to be found? How difficult did she want to make the journey for him? All options weighed evenly, should could always hop through the Eluvian and go for a jog in the forest. A brisk walk in the snow could help clear her head. Even basking in the actual sunlight on the beach would probably soothe the aching that was taking up residence in her skull.

She ended up on the floor in front of the fish in her room. Head between her knees. Too aware of the way the frame of the chaise bit into her spine. The sofa had shifted when she had more or less collapsed against it, moving it off the ornate rug and exposing a sliver of the flooring below. She felt the cold of the stone seep through her bones.

Breathing, though accustom to losing it, or holding it, or reserving it, became a rare commodity. She tried hard to regulate the greedy gasps she made, feeling embarrassed by her own noise in the quiet room. Everything was out of her control it seemed.

She could do nothing about the hand that was currently cinching like a tourniquet around her thigh. The tightening came as a ache and then a throb, accompanying a cramp in her fingers and joints as her grip refused to loosen.

The pain was grounding and Veryl finally realized the big fat tears that dripped from her face were real. She felt her face contort in unrestrained emotion.

She barely noticed the rustling of clothes as another body was pulling her in tight. A hand eased over her locked one, wedging between its grip on her leg and prying it away. She didn't try to ease up either, switching crushing the hand that reached for it.

In a crushing sweep the pressure finally started ease but for as long as she wailed and sobbed openly. She was too far gone for the action to feel awkward, instead she only felt increments of relief. The other person tucked her in more closely with each body wracking shudder that she gave into.

At some point she blacked out, either from lack of oxygen or just simply because of the turmoil she gave into. The weight of it finally claiming her and pulling her into the deep. She was relieved to come awake peacefully, instead of jarring herself into consciousness in order to escape the nightmares.

A cold touch. A familiar scent that so often reminded her of home. A vibration of bones that drew the line between the dead and the living. She snuggled a little closer to the warmth that cradled her. There was shifting to accommodate, and something moved down her back.

Her eyelids lifted slowly revealing clothing and then skin. She was tucked into Emmrich's chest, his hair tickled at her nose. She felt how her body outlined his, both stretched out across that pitifully small green sofa. Her legs tangled with his, a s measure to keep her from slipping off, she was sure. And a roving hand ran circuts up and down her spine, fingers paused to press along her vertebrae sometimes.

Her own hands were close to her face, bent at the joint and tucked under her chin. Emmrich's other arm acted as a cushion for her head. She felt his muscle bending and flexing. He was probably trying to keep it from falling asleep too.

"Emm-" she started, though her mouth was dry and her voice got caught along her vocal chords. She sniffed and tried clearing her throat.

"If you start with an apology, I'm afraid this may be a very different kind of discussion." There was warning in his voice, but there was concern too. Veryl closed her mouth and swallowed the decidedly polix remorse she had planned on relating, her throat still sticky.

He sighed, a deep thing that expanded his chest in front of her. She felt an unbidden blush start to creep up at the sight. It was only made worse when his free roving hand reached down to gently lift her chin, forcing her to look at him.

When he was satisfied with her obedience, keeping her eyes locked with his own, he transition from her face to her hair. Long fingers gently tucked it back and away, some pieces having been stuck to her cheek with salty moisture.

"Are you alright?" He asked, so very delicately. She didn't so much hear his voice as she felt it. His low timbre resonated when he spoke, a soothing reverberation. Any hint of reproach was gone, his face was all concern and care. A small frown hinted along his mouth.

She tried again to clear her throat, and provide some semblance of clear communication. "I'm… alright." It came out as several high pitched eeks, a scraping that generally sounded like words.

She gave him a small smile. He returned it though it didn't really change his countenace. His hand moved again to cup against her cheek and on instinct she pushed into it and closed her eyes.

"I cannot tell you what to do, my darling." He said, words barely there between them. "Goodness knows I could never wield such power with someone as willful as you. But I fear I must implore you anyway."

Veryl blinked up at him when he paused, waiting for what he would say, what he would ask of her. She tried not to think of the futility he felt in his request. That he thought so little of asking something of her. As though he felt he had no sway over her, when truly, it was quite the opposite.

She would do anything he asked, fight any foe he pointed her at, go anywhere he desired her to exist. He could merely say the word and she would. If he didn't know that, she would rectify such a sad misunderstanding as soon as she regained her voice.

"Please tell me when something is wrong." He kept her stare as it widened. Ah, the one thing she could not do. "Do not let your fear keep you from allowing me to stand with you. I am more than capable of holding you together when you yourself cannot."

What could she say to relieve him of the obvious stress this predicament caused? The frown on his face had deepened and she had lost his eyes as they had dipped away growing less confident with each word.

She reached her own hand up to mirror his. Gently cupping his cheek she ran a thumb along his high cheekbone, marveling at the way he melted at her touch.

"Things are always wrong." She spoke quietly and his eyes closed. His eyebrows drew together seemingly in pain, as he inhaled deeply near her wrist. The kisses landed softly against her palm.

"There will never be a time when things are not wrong. Would you have me come to you for every small thing? Every miniscule complaint?" For as long as they endeavored to stop the world from collapsing, there would be no peace. Surely he would not ask her to burden him with her displeasure.

"I would have you tell me absolutely everything down to if you stubbed your littlest toe." He spoke into her hand as his own held her to his face, brazenly he breathed her in. His eyes were back on hers, dark and unwavering. Some sort of heat was growing in them, making Veryl aware of that blush from earlier, bringing it roaring back to life.

"There is nothing so great that I cannot handle. Even if there was, it could not be something we would not face together." He closed the few centimeters of space between them. He transferred from kissing her hand to kissing along her cheekbones. Veryl closed her eyes and her chest felt light as she let a long sigh empty her lungs.

"My darling, let me convince you of my devotion." A whisper in her ear that sent a tingle down her spine. "You have posessed the very essence of my being and I exist wholly at your leisure.

He caressed the shell of her ear with his lips and anointed her with a small noise that made her whole body shiver. Only then did she become aware of how their legs still tangled, sensitive parts brushing nearer to each other with each shift of position.

Veryl slowly reached to wrap her arms around his neck. Her fingers let the way, eventually finding themselves sunk into his hair, massaging and pulling. It wasn't long before Emmrich's wayward kisses along her jaw reached her lips. She sank into the oblivion he encouraged, opening up for him and meeting his tongue stroke for stroke. Her breathing became erratic again, the indication of losing control.

She broke away briefly to catch up, the sensation feeling too familiar to earlier in the day. Emmrich kept up his offensive, dragging kisses along her neck, and skin he could access.

"Let me do this for you, darling." Emmrich whispered the words against her skin. He bit once, causing her to wince. A quick, soothing lick followed and Veryl shuddered. "Give yourself over to me. Let me take care of you. Let me be the one to worry."

She felt him everywhere. How his arms surround her, his hands holding fast to her ribs. The way his tongue traveled along her collar bone and her nose buried into his hair. How many points of connection did their bodies bare? Forty? Fifty?

She craved him. She had from the start, from that very first kiss. There was never any denying that. But she was unwilling to give up that control, that safety she put in place. That ultimate vulnerability. It would never be just sex with him, it would always be a meeting of two souls that could never be extricated from each other.

She was the one who sought him out this time, her kiss certain as she slid her tongue along his. Her hands shifted to grip his hips, pulling until he rolled them over. He hovered above her, caging her in there on the chaise. He broke away for a moment, to watch her, to look for answers to the question he had yet to ask.

His hand revisited her cheek, "Are you sure? I feel as though we should talk about what happened before…"

Veryl smiled, a small thing with a few teeth, a genuine display of contentedness. She shook her head.

"Help me forget, my love. That the world is ending. Take it away." It was all the permission he needed.

Under his care and ministrations, Veryl handed her entire being over to him. Worries drifted away with the whisper of pleasured sighs.

Here is the other Thursday Banger Prompt I posted, one more to go! Well, till tomorrow.

Trivia for your time: Honey never spoils. It can remain edible indefinitely if stored correctly, truly natures candy.

[pastaxandria]

The Red Thread: Chapter 163

The Library of Pastaxandria has recorded for its archives: Chapter 163 of The Red Thread.

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

"The person I'm tracking… It has to do with Project Beagle." You grimaced as Matt abruptly straightened next to you, his inhale sharp and startled. "I'm looking for the brother of my old handler. Anthony, from the journals. He might be hiding in Queens, according to S.H.I.E.L.D.. His brother's lived there for decades, and they think he's stashed Anthony somewhere. If I can find the brother… I find Anthony." Silence hung heavy in the air, thick and heavy as a shroud. Then Matt blew out a slow breath, letting go of you so he could scrub his hands down his face. "Shit," he said softly.

Wordcount: 7.6k

Warnings for this chapter: for once this chapter is ENTIRELY SAFE, I even added some extra cuddles for all of you, and there is a WONDERFUL CAMEO I have been waiting to get to at this point in my outline, so go forth!

Read me on AO3 where Matt's suddenly realizing there might be too many things going on for him to handle all of it

[kingkatsuki]

Specifically thinking about long distance relationships today.

So tell me how you and your f/o would first meet online?

[dreamaze]

he saw his chance and he took it

[gardenoblues]

Woe...what a night.

The relief in his eyes when she said she wouldn't judge him so easily. The delight in his face when she said she would've taken it further.

The curious tilt of her head, thinking how he knew she got expelled, and with no hesitation she'd do it again. His reaction to it; the evident joy that he couldn't hide.

Then all goes to hell when he says;

"I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Her face softens as he says it. Thee Wednesday Freakin' Friday Addams.

It sealed it. A validation.

Someone liked how unhinged she was, a normie even, accepted her for who she is. He was different from the snobbish, insufferable elites she had met in the school she didn't want to attend. He gets his hands dirty and not like the Nevermore brats too spoiled to know how a coffee machine works.

And it all made sense at the end why she was so into him too.

Him being a normie was fine.

She couldn't have foresaw or imagine him as an outcast.

But him being both of two worlds was so unexpected, it stung. Everything he did was a mockery of her shortcomings, and they both knew it. Him more than anyone else.

As much as she couldn't stand the fact that being a psychic, a raven, and missing the most crucial part of the puzzle humiliates her to the bone, it didn't change the fact that, yes.

Yes. All was done, blood was shed, tears were wasted and lives were taken.

He was suddenly the monster wreaking havoc in town. Disemboweling bodies in the woods, lying as if it were walking, killed his therapist boy-monster.

He wasn't just Tyler Galpin; a part time barista, and a wide eyed boy ready to comply with her whims.

He was, and is the Hyde.

Walking freely in town wearing the same innocent face that managed to fool her and stayed out of her radar. With his bigot, normie, sheriff father.

All smiles and sunshine in the daylight, but at night the shadows consume him.

"Of course the first boy I'd kiss would turn out to be a psycho killing monster. Guess I have a type."

Yeah girl you have a type.

And it's a temperemental beast with a mind of its own.

And it all started with a cup of coffee he had made for her. And those damn words she held in the back of her mind every time she does something unpleasant or disappoints her family or the head of the wretched school.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you."

But this time, it wasn't Tyler Galpin's voice echoing in her shabby mind.

It was her voice that she tried to suppress as her ribcage claws out of her chest. Denying any hint of affection.

There is always an explanation why things are the way they are, and why people act the way that they do.

And it was in front of her all this time.

Even now that Tyler is splayed bloody in the open.

There it is.

The reason why she liked him.

[bornonthebreakofdawn]

Our Nanadaime looks wonderful in this game promo animation for Momoshiki

[lucky-clover-gazette]

unfortunately i am planning yet another fanfic with a very limited audience just bc my brain will not stop telling me to write it

[abyssembraced]

@hymns-across-the-stars

This floor was never going to be easy.

The two of them had known this from the start, when those blasted pop-ups bearing her own face flooded their vision in their demand for attention. Before that, even, from the sound of those heavy, mechanical footsteps echoing from the other side of the elevator door.

She had surveyed their surroundings the moment they stepped onto the floor. As always, with a tap to her microphone for focus, Vee connected to the network of machines, broadcasting a signal through them to identify and highlight any organism in range that possessed significant enough levels of ichor content to be marked as Twisted. Razzle and Dazzle. Cosmo. Looey. And… Herself. Not the worst combination, all things considered, but still one that required more care than usual to navigate through safely.

Dividing and conquering was the best way to get things done quickly. The sooner they could get off the floor, the less opportunity there would be for anything to go wrong. Seven machines. One primed, and three others for each of them to complete.

Vee pointed Glisten toward the nearest machine she could detect, before setting off in the opposite direction to seek one out for herself. One machine done, courtesy of her best friend. Two, the second by her. Slowly but surely, her internal counter clicked upward. Periodic Mic Checks would keep them both out of harm's way.

On the fifth machine now. Things were going smoothly.

The sound of shattered glass clattered in the distance.

What-? 

Her hand slipped.

A loud buzzer drowned out everything else.

Shit.

She needed to run. Her Twisted self had eyes everywhere, and each one of them must have just honed in on her little mistake. If she didn't move now, she it would surely be on her in mere moments.

But... What was that? There was no reason for glass to break here. Neither Twisted Rodger nor Twisted Glisten were on the floor; she knew that for a—

Glisten. 

Her Glisten. 

Shit. 

It hadn't even been a minute since her last check-in with the Twisteds. Scratch that, that wasn't even the typical crunch of a Twisted's attack striking true to begin with. What happened over there?

Mechanical footsteps growing louder. No time to think. Get out now. 

Find him. 

But where? She sensed machines, not people. That was his thing.

Still, search. Find him. 

As she made her escape, an odd outline in the periphery of her vision caught her eye. The new nearest machine, supposedly, but it looked wrong. It was flickering rapidly, both between green and white, but also in and out of existence entirely, behaving more erratically than the rhythmic pulse it was supposed to be. As if the machine wasn't properly connected to the rest of the network anymore.

There was no guarantee that Glisten would be there, but at least it was something. A potential lead. An oddity worth investigating.

...

That warning sign should have prepared her for the scene she would eventually come upon.

It didn't.

A sea of ichor flooded the surrounding area, engulfing everything it could reach in the darkness of that sticky, slimy lifeblood. The source? An ichor extraction machine, its light now dead and dark as the liquid it was made to hold, whose thick glass encasing had somehow managed to completely shatter, spilling out all its contents to the floor.

Vee took a step back, before any of the still-flowing fluid could reach her feet.

This had been one of his machines.

"𝙶𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗..?" She tentatively called out, voice soft so as not to alert the attention of any Twisteds, but still loud enough that he should be able to hear her if he was nearby.

[achaotichuman]

Me waiting patiently for Silver Threaded Fates to be complete, so I can write fanfiction about Ilar and Vila babysitting Milo

(Silver Threaded Fates written by @fragmentedink, go look at it)

[michael-h-art]

starting my pre sonic movie 3 homework

feels weird saying I’ve never beaten this when most of my friend group knows me as the sonic guy

[supremestrangeness]

OOC:

I feel like that finale episode just made me stronger. Sitting here absolutely buzzing hahah.

[anomalouscutie]

bold theory but im like 80% sure that the spiderman 2 story was a little lackluster because the dlc is going to be doing a lot more of the heavy lifting this time around

[astralartefact]

the ffxiv youtube posting a full yorha dark apocalypse trailer for the release of the rest of the anime while the community is already big mad after they have made the groundbreaking discovery that they like endwalker less than shadowbringers

surely only the most insightful of commentaries will follow *braces for impact*

me? i'm just over here full on seething that the stupid lore bullshit that people are mad about is continuing to rob me of 'yoko taro decided to write his most overtly political work in a video game crossover' discourse

[unproduciblesmackdown]

the sense of having any lore about the ancient [ten to thirteen years ago] of marble hornets times like granpa granpa tell us a greentext story....the only hitch is not having stories and instead having "i guess you had to be there" tales from the fringes, unless instead of a hitch you frame this as a bit