#and i definitely need to figure out how those events play out and connect

[theradicalace]

i have blocked out a rough series of events for the transfem splendid timeline. details are vague on everything after the red line, but that's at least the order i want those things to happen in :3c

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

[zabala0z]

Welcome to “New Fan consistently listens to TMA S2 while playing Minecraft and dying by a skeleton” I’m your host: the new fan. Or I dunno if I’m considered a new fan since I’m listening to s2 but I guess the podcast was made in 2016 and I finally got to it circa 2024. Anyways! Gotta get to it! Post too long already!

MAG 57: Personal Space

Eughhh this one is like top 5 TMA EPS of creeping me out. Lot of stuff here so I’m gonna talk a while. For example, Conrad Lukas was in charge of the project and the Lukas family was shown in Alone and Boatswain Call. Speaking of the latter, Nathaniel Lukas gave an investment to the project. He was the captain of that ship in MAG 33. Pinnacle Aerospsce is majority owned by the Fairchild family WHO CANNOT STAY OUT OF PEOPLES BUSINESS 💀

Carter, the guy who did the project, also had that feeling of being utterly alone in this damn void. He said the line between reality and dreaming was blurred, finding himself in space, a graveyard or an empty ocean. The latter two I think are a reference to Alone and High Pressure respectively which all have the theme of “loneliness, stranded, etc” in common.

The whole “being alone in a large empty space” has been a pattern. The Fairchild family features in that theme and even the Lukas family in Alone. Optic Solutions Limited is based in Norway but the only connection I can figure out is that Jurgen Leitner was from Norway but maybe there was something I missed. Anyways that’s it. God 😭

Nothing much on MAG 58: Rations. Another kind of emphasis on meat. I felt so bad for the unknown lady :( (EDIT 9/2: Benjamin Carlisle shares the same last name as Toby Carlisle and both have very prominent meat themes. God.)

MAG 59: Recluse

Oh boy Raymond Fielding. From what I heard before, I thought he was a good guy since like y’know he took in troubled kids but noooo. He seems to be like the same thing as that woman from Children of the Night. Creepy spider thing. Also; that damn table. Now we finally know what happened to the middle of the table, like the square. Also the apple; Same apple Evo found in burned out. Even described the same. Agnes also, in my theory, a good person because she kissed Ronald’s cheek before he left and then was persuaded to go down to the study where his cheek started burning and snapped him out of it. I think she’s good. I dunno what her deal is but still.

Also, again, the table. It’s definitely the same table. How did Graham find it? He said he bought it in a second hand shop in MAG 3. Did Ray donate it after the events? Did the house burn down but the table still survived? Like god. How did the middle part of the table end up under the tree? With the apple? I have so many questions.

MAG 60: The Observer Effect

Another eye theme. Not many connections but I’m assuming she wanted to blow up the Magnus institute with those barrels of petrol. Maybe she found out something her brother was involved in which she blamed the institute for. I think he didn’t die of a stroke because no one ever dies of natural causes, I mean come on.

Also. Jon getting an intervention is the funniest thing ever. Like he was like before “they’re avoiding me and giving me fruitful glances, they’re up to something” like my dude, they are worried about you 💀

“Yeah sorry if I’ve been distant”

“You literally watch my house”

“You rummaged through my desk”

“You said I was lying about a murder”

I’m literally cackling. They’re not even wrong, Jon is going a little cray cray from all this. He needs an emotional support cat I think.

[spiral-man]

My self indulgent list of Entities and what I think my connection to them would be, let’s go:

The Eye-I believe I could be a good avatar of the Eye because I’m super nosy, and have always been told I ask to many questions and am to curious and also I’m a pretty open book myself.

The Spiral-If I had to Pick an Entity I think I’d be most likely to serve it would be the Spiral. I have a lot of mental health issues and I have a hard time figuring out what’s real and what’s fake within my perception, Also I’m Pansexual and Pangender and I have ADHD so….

The Flesh-Think I could definitely be at least marked by The Flesh due to a history of $elf Harm (getting better!) and my fondness for NBC Hannibal.

The Lonely-Depression and Anxiety make me prime real-estate for the lonely and I have a bad tendency of dwelling in my own misery at times and finding comfort in that which is what this entity feeds on.

The Slaughter-I’ve got some anger issues and have a bit of a violent tendency at times (working on it).

The Hunt-Used to (still do) love games like tag and hide and seek, I really loved the adrenaline rush those games give you, especially in the woods or something.

The Stranger-I have a bit of a hard time feeling human, I feel like I’m doing it wrong most of the time, like I’m just ever so slightly off compared to everyone else, like I’m just pretending.

The Web-Manipulative parents need I say more.

The Dark-Always loved the dark, find it very comforting.

The End-I’ve never been scared of death, I’ve had some past suicidal issues and now I’m currently studying to be a funeral director/embalmer.

The Desolation-My family has a history of Arson in the sense that one of my grandmas siblings almost burnt their house down because they liked to play with matches, my grandmas son did burn a playground down because he liked to play with matches and my grandmas granddaughter (me, hi) also has almost burnt her house down (multiple times) due to enjoying playing with matches.

The Corruption-Probably my worst fear, when I was younger I loved bugs but these day they make me so uncomfortable, thinking about them makes me itch, and similar idea with rot in general I just hate it, this fear would have a easy time feeding on me.

The Buried-Similar to the dark, I actually do not mind super confined spaces and in fact find them sort of comforting at times.

The Vast-I used to really love to climb trees but I could never get to high up because I was scared of how unsteady it felt, in general I like climbing shit to be up high but if it feels unstable I feel like I’m about to pass out.

the Exctinction-Lived through a pandemic and constantly being informed about different new events that could end the world.

If you read all this, hot damn I love you wow thank you so much haha, this was purely self indulgent as ive seen other people do it and I find the fears so interesting.

[vo-kopen]

The Hero With a Steel Fist

Hey, today is Community Day Classic in Pokémon Go, and it’s for Beldum. I enjoy that little arm rocket, though admittedly I have never played a proper Pokémon game. I have put over a hundred hours into Coromon though. Like three years ago I was so inspired by the little guys and how they are the arms of Metang and the feet of Metagross, that I wrote a little fanfic. I don’t write much fanfic anymore, but recently I felt like revisiting the two short stories and trying to polish them up to be closer to my current standards.

So here are two short stories about an Autistic superhero who uses a Beldum as a prosthesis. The first is entitled “A Lot of Bagon,” a play on how the lead has a lot of baggage. This is because I watched the anime years ago and bad puns are now what I associate with Pokémon. The second story is simply entitled: “Steel Yourself,” for the sake of more bad puns. Both are set in Hoenn, because Kyogre and Groudon are peak legendaries and deserve to be kaiju sized because that’s when Beldum debuted as a Pokémon. It’s connection to any one canon is loose, but something like the events of Alpha Sapphire happened in the backstory. Though Steel Fist subscribes to Lance’s strategy of “just attack the trainers,” which feels more anime. Although that example is in the games so *shrugs*

Tagging @thefingerfuckingfemalefury @highly-radioactive-nerd @akirakan @alexanders-pokemon-adventure @thewilliamambervein and anyone else who wants to see my newly edited Pokémon stories from three years ago. Fun fact, I was inspired to revisit these stories because I adopted a Painted Horsea by Alexanders-pokemon-adventure, and it put me into a bit of a Pokémon mood. I did the edits maybe a few months ago, it’s just I needed an occasion, and the literal community day for Beldum felt right. Plus I think it’s Worlds right now, though again, I have only played Pokémon Go. And Magikarp Jump I guess. Regardless, I hope y’all enjoy this. Just be aware the lead has some trauma related to loosing their arm, and a lot of their actions are guided by that trauma. I don’t think I milk their pain, but it’s definitely present in them, and the second story is about them facing something similar to that trauma. Hopefully it’s not tastelessly done.

Gosh I ramble. Again, hope y’all enjoy this, here are both tales.

A Lot of Bagon

…

“Cool it ya mutt,” the man growled as he struggled to drag the Pokémon. He was clad in black with a red ‘R’ scrawled on his chest, much like his comrades. He was hauling a Bagon toward the campsite; the small bipedal dragon’s jaws were muzzled and her legs and arms cuffed together in chains.

As he dragged her through a shaft of moonlight, a figure watched from behind a nearby tree. Their claws tightened into a fist; their arm reeled back.

“Da boss is gonna pay big for a Pokemon like—“

The grunt barely had time to move before a metallic blue blur slammed into his head. He was sent soaring into his campsite. He crashed into a tent, and his body went limp.

“What?” Another grunt stood up, her fists clenched, “ that stupid dragon has earned itself even more chains—

“Shut up and get your Pokemon out,” ordered a second man as he fumbled into his bag. As he dug in he yanked out a Pokeball, only for it to slip out of his unsteady hands.

He dove at the ball yelling, “Hurry.”

“Why?” The woman shook her head, “It's just that runt of a Dragon Type stirring up trouble, it can’t run far with those clamps around its legs.”

And then there was a scream on the other side of the camp and a rustling in the bushes behind the two of them. The woman tightened and nodded before she pulled out her Pokeball.

Then someone lunged out of the bushes and slugged her in the jaw.

The woman tumbled across the clearing, lying sprawled with her Pokeball rolling out of her grasp. The man trembled as he looked up to see a human standing over him, one with a massive left forearm and claws for a hand.

“The … the Hero with the Steel Fist,” The man squeaked as their fist shot forward, punching him hard in the gut. He was sent flying away, before smacking into his tent. He too went limp.

The Hero with the Steel Fist shook out their left arm, fresh from punching the grunt. Their forearm was a metallic blue; it ended in three claws and had a rough almost jagged shape. In truth, the forearm wasn't a normal prosthetic but a Pokemon, a Beldum. The rocket-shaped Pokémon’s nosecone of a head connected to the hero’s elbow, with their rocket fins used as a crude mimicry of claws. The Beldum pivoted on their elbow to slam into Steel Fist’s hand, punching their palm for emphasis.

The Hero with the Steel Fist turned about, even as two more grunts in the same uniform charged from the bushes. They reeled their fist back before launching at the grunts, slamming their fist into the first grunt’s jaw. He fell limp to the grassy ground.

“G-g-go Jigglypuff.” The last grunt stammered as she threw a Pokeball, and a pink puffball of a Pokemon erupted from the ball. The Jigglypuff drifted down to the ground, as the Hero with a Steel Fist turned to face her. But they didn't target the Pokemon; they aimed at the brunette grunt.

“Jigglypuff, use I-Ice Beam?” The grunt swallowed, trying to puff out her chest to seem intimidating. The Hero with the Steel Fist only leaped to the side, dodging the Pokémon’s frosty blast. As they dodged, the moonlight lit up the vigilante, giving them an almost magenta glow.

They wore a denim skirt with a sleeves jean jacket atop a magenta t-shirt and a denim glove on their right hand. They had a black domino mask over their eyes and black boots on their feet. A magenta infinity symbol lay on their vest’s back and a silver emblem on their shirt; the latter reflected both the rocket fins of a Beldum and the symbol for Autism. They were color-coded with the Beldum that functioned as their prosthetic arm, and in the moonlight, their clothes seemed almost to make them ethereal.

“Jigglypuff, Ice Beam again.” Another beam of frost erupted from the Jigglypuff, but this time the Hero with the Steel Fist merely blocked with their Pokemon prosthesis. The Beldum absorbed the force of the blast before they flexed and the frosty coat shattered.

“You … you … if you kill us, Steel Fist you … Team Rocket will avenge us,” squeaked the grunt as she recalled her Jigglypuff and then began to stagger into a sprint. She ran away as fast as she could.

The Hero with a Steel rolled their shoulders before pulling out a Pokeball.

“Go Guardian,” they declared as they hurled the ball like a pitcher, “Use Psychic.”

Immediately, the ball erupted and released a colossal steel tank of a Pokemon, supported by four legs that each looked like a larger version of a Beldum. This was a Metagross, the final evolution of the Beldum species. The Metagross glowed magenta as they stared at the fleeing grunt, and suddenly the Team Rocket Grunt rose into the air, dangling helplessly as her feet kicked with desperation.

As the grunt was incapacitated, Steel Fist turned away. Their living prosthesis clicked their claws together before their human hand began to rub the shoulder of their Metagross.

"Nice job, Guardian, same with you, Left Hook.” They petted their living prosthetic at that remark, and the symbiotic Pokémon seemed to hum. They smiled and their claws clicked again to stim.

Then they walked over to where the bound Bagon had unsuccessfully tried to hide in a bush. The shell on her head had been visible, and the shaking bush had been hard to miss.

“Easy,” Steel Fist said, “it’s okay. You are safe now.”

They walked up to the Bagon with their human hand outstretched, slow and gentle. They held Left Hook behind them, trying not to overstimulate the dragon. The Bagon huffed but let them rub her scaly hide; her breaths were heavy as they massaged her slowly and gently.

“Now, I am going to tear off your chains,” Steel Fist said slowly. The Bagon tensed up but didn’t flee. They reeled their Beldum of a fist back before hooking the muzzle with their claws, ripping the metal restraint off her. The Bagon eyed them and drew closer.

With a swing, the Hero with the Steel Fist broke the chains on her arms and legs, freeing her to move freely. “I heard from Claire you were missing,” Steel Fist said, clicking their claws again. The Bagon leaped into the air with excitement as she heard her partner's name before the small dragon began to run about with joy.

“Hold on,” Steel Fist declared, and Bagon flinched. As the dragon turned, she spotted a Sitrus Berry in their hand. She stumbled over herself to waddle to them before engulfing the Steel Fist’s arm in her large jaws. She gulped down the berry and then slid her mouth off them, leaving their human arm soaked with slobber.

Guardian glowed and immediately the drool levitated off of the Hero with the Steel Fist’s hand, before letting it splatter to the ground.

“Thank you,” they nodded before recalling Guardian into their Pokeball. As they holstered their Pokeball alongside the three others on their belt, they whistled to the Bagon. The dragon cocked her head at them as they gestured.

“Come on, we need to head back to your partner don’t we?” Steel Fist asked, “she lives over by Meteor Falls right?” The Bagon nodded eagerly and trotted after them, as they cut through the bushes and grass towards the west.

…

The genderless Autistic stood out against the railing, enjoying the sea air as they and their Metagross traveled under the darkness of night. The ferry’s bright lights drowned out the stars, leaving only the faint glow of the full moon. Metagross was deflecting the waves, making them fluid fireworks.

They laughed as sea foam splashed before they spotted something in the distance. There was a glow in the water, something more vibrant than the moon, a bubbling radiant light more like a solar flare made flesh than lava. As they stared they could see a massive blue shape with a bulbous head, with this horrifically bright glow drawn in their body in a strange pattern. The beast roared; its radiant maw exposed as it charged at the boat with a rush of speed. The youth had time to have their eyes go wide as the mouth of the beast, the Legendary Primal Kyogre erupted and searing boiling water engulfed the ship.

…

Steel Fist awoke as Guardian nuzzled them; their breaths were shallow and rapid. Their claws frantically clicked while their remaining human hand trembled as it clutched their chest. Finally, they nodded at Guardian, closed their eyes, and stopped clenching their stomach. But their Beldum of a forearm continued to click.

They stood up shakily, looking around. Guardian had kept watch during the night, just in case more members of Team Rocket showed up. The gang had recently been infesting Hoenn, trying to steal the Pokemon native to the region to sell them to the highest bidder. Disgusting. So the Hero with the Steel Fist fought them as they did in their travels to all poachers in the region of Hoenn. It was … it was something they could handle at least.

After Kyogre and Groudon rampaged through Hoenn, the region’s infrastructure had been left broken. Routes had flooded, waterways had dried up, and several cities suddenly found themselves submerged or in a drought. Hoenn was recovering, but with Team Magma and Team Aqua dissolved, it had been easy for Team Rocket to move in.

Steel Fist shook their head and glanced over towards Bagon. The sleeping dragon had tiny stubby arms compared to her legs, similar to a Tyrunt. But unlike that prehistoric Pokémon, when she stood upright her head was positioned only slightly in front of its body. She was built vertically not horizontally.

The dawn was creeping into sight, and the sky blended pink and blue. Guardian was disassembling the wall they had built the night before, levitating the debris with their psychic power. They glanced back to them, sounding its cry in confusion.

“No, I’m fine,” the Hero with the Steel Fist answered, stretching their arms about, before walking over to Bagon. They sat down next to the sleeping dragon, who was kicking her legs in the air like she was trying to run in her sleep. They reached into their belt before pulling out a round violet berry and laying it near the dragon. The dragon paused in her sleep, her nostrils inhaling the scent, before stumbling upright and looking about, yawning.

“You slept okay?” asked Steel Fist, and Bagon nodded as she swayed, before lunging and scarfing down the Chesto Berry. As she chomped on it she regarded the vigilante, tilting her head at them curiously. She finished her berry, before walking over and nuzzling their Beldum prosthetic.

“I had an accident a year ago,” answered the Hero with the Steel Fist as their clicking sped up again. “I lost my right arm. I thought I was going to be the Champion of Hoenn, hoped to beat the entire League with just my Metagross. Then the accident happened and well, plans changed.”

Guardian boomed in agreement, raising one of their lumbering feet to wave. But their eyes were focused on Steel Fist.

“It wasn’t the end of the world,” Steel Fist assured their starter. Guardian dropped the rocks they had been carrying and started to head back, still eyeing them. Steel Fist shook their head with a forced grin. They could manage. What mattered was keeping Bagon comfortable, poor girl.

“When my Metagross’s egg hatched I discovered the Beldum and I had a connection,” the Hero with the Steel Fist smiled genuinely as their prosthesis’s makeshift claws clicked, so Guardian went back to digging, “Much like a Galarian Slowbro and a Shellder, the Beldum could latch to me as a living prosthesis. And I figured, with a punch like Left Hook, why not use my fist to help people. Sometimes I haul away rubble to free trapped hikers, sometimes I fight poachers, and sometimes I round up a powerful Pokemon was released in an ecosystem that couldn’t handle it. Just traveling around Hoenn, helping who I could. Like a superhero.” Their Beldum hummed again, and Steel Fist nodded in agreement.

Bagon stared up at them as they continued, “When I went to Meteor Falls I asked around for any folks in need, I found out you were missing and went to help.“ Bagon made a throaty chirp before running off with a flurry of footsteps. Before she could get far, Guardian snared her with their psychic abilities before levitating her back to Steel Fist.

“Easy,” the Hero with the Steel Fist laughed, “we are heading for Claire, but don’t exhaust yourself scrambling after her.” Bagon pouted but held close while the vigilante recalled Guardian.

…

Boom. The footsteps of Tankette thundered across Hoenn. Tankette was a Lairon, a bulky metallic reptile that ran on four legs. She was part Steel Type, as were all the Pokemon that the Hero with the Steel Fist owned. They liked all their Pokemon to match. Tankette wasn't a fighter; she was the muscle, hauling the vigilante and anyone who needed transportation with her massive strength.

Bagon lay in Steel Fist’s lap, her legs kicking once again as they rode atop the charging Lairon. Steel Fist hoped Bagon was just dreaming of chasing a Sentret or maybe playing with Claire. But the whimpers Bagon made seemed to suggest that their fears were more accurate.

As she pounded across the ground, Tankette suddenly bellowed, tilting her snout up towards the sky. The Hero with the Steel Fist tensed up before searching about, trying to see the cause of distress. It wasn’t long before they spied a Taurus running towards them, with a pair of Team Rocket grunts riding atop the Wild Bull Pokemon, clutching his back.

“It’s over, Steel Fist,” demanded one of the grunts as she leaned over, “you left me floating in the air for hours until you got bored and chunked me at the nearest town. Well now you’re gonna pay.”

The Hero with the Steel Fist was quiet, not rising to their words. But Bagon on the other hand bolted upright, her breath shallow and her whole body quaking. Steel Fist quickly reached down and stroked Bagon, but she was too aggravated. She lashed out at their hand with fear, before tumbling off Tankette.

Immediately, the Lairon skidded to a halt and began to run back towards where Bagon lay aching in the dirt. The Tauros swerved around too, before head-butting Tankette. Her thick metal hide deflected the Tauros’s attack with ease, even as the Hero with the Steel Fist launched up. They vaulted at Bagon, landing between the Dragon Type and the mounted grunts. In the meantime, Tankette slammed her head against the Tauros’s gut, knocking him away to knock off the grunts.

“You … you aren’t gonna stop us,” the grunt managed, standing shakily up, “I … I have a secret weapon this time. Ice Type moves might apparently be useless against Steel Types, but why don’t you try out my new firepower.”

She threw her Pokeball; it burst in a blast of light to reveal a Ninetails, an elegant and large vulpine Pokemon that was a Fire Type. And Fire was strong against Steel. Or at least it was strong against pure Steel Types. Steel Fist reached down and picked up Bagon, waiting.

“Ninetails, Flamethrower,” she ordered, swinging her fist towards the Hero with the Steel Fist. In response they punched the ground to vault into the air, leaping over the rush of flames. They landed with a roll before dropping off Bagon and vaulting again. They slammed into the second Team Rocket grunt feet first; and he slumped over, incapacitated.

“That … that doesn’t scare me,” she swallowed, smiling, “I still have the type advantage you … you only use Steel Types. Ninetails, give me another Flamethrower.”

Immediately, a second tidal wave of fire erupted towards the Hero with the Steel Fist, so they dived to the side, before punching the dusty ground. A plume of dust erupted from the impact and soon melded with the thick miasma of ash from the burning field.

“ Where … where are you?” The grunt squeaked, sticking close to her Ninetails. And then suddenly Lairon charged through the fire, head-butting the Fox Pokemon with her armored head. The blow hurled the leaner Pokemon away before shakily standing upright.

“You … that isn’t even fully evolved, and it still is a Steel Type. This will be easy,” she puffed out her chest to seem bigger, “Ninetails, Flamethrower.”

“Tankette, use Rock Slide.” As a surge of fire charged at Tankette a rain of rocks exploded from out of the sky, plowing into Ninetails with bludgeoning force and smothering the flames. As more debris filled the air the grunt saw a blur launch through the air, before a metallic fist plowed straight into her, flinging her across the field.

The Hero with the Steel Fist walked up, picking up the Ninetail’s Pokeball. They shattered the Pokeball with a punch, letting the pieces fall away.

“Fire is weak to Rock,” they said simply, “Lairon is a Steel and Rock Type.” Behind them they could hear the Ninetails running, fleeing back into the wilds.

They turned away from the broken grunts, first feeding Lairon a berry and giving her a pet, and then they walked back to Bagon, who was shaking and hiding behind a rock.

“You okay?” They asked, but Bagon only shuddered, trembling so much it looked like they were about to vibrate into dust.

Carefully, the Hero with the Steel Fist reached out; they kept their movements slow so Bagon could reject them at any time. Finally, they embraced her, holding her close as Tankette lumbered up.

“I understand,” they said simply, “I know what it’s like to feel helpless.” Bagon cried in their arms, just exhausted and overwhelmed by being kidnapped and chained up and muzzled and being away from Claire. It had all just been too much.

Steel Fist let her cry, letting her tire herself out. Then they said, “I was supposed to be this great Pokemon Master, and when this, when this real challenge emerged I was helpless, I couldn’t do anything; I couldn’t help anyone on the boat, and I could only watch as my arm was ripped apart by the intense blast of water. Like a pressure hose burning algae off a dock. The ship sank and the monster rampaged free and unimpeded. I couldn’t, I am nothing compared to Primal Kyogre.”

Their claws were clicking in a frenzy; they were more unsteady than their heartbeat. Bagon had been terrified by her ordeal, and that felt all too familiar.

The Hero with the Steel Fist looked at Bagon in her eyes and said, “but through my depression and trauma Guardian protected me, and then Left Hook helped me do things for myself again. And I decided I would try to do the same, to help anyone in trouble, to try to support Hoenn so that folks wouldn't have to feel as helpless and hopeless as I did. To pay it forward.”

Bagon whimpered as the Hero with the Steel Fist stood up with the dragon in both of their arms, “I don’t know if that helps any. But I am here for you, and Claire will be too. She missed you too, and she will be there to support you through everything.”

She moaned as the vigilante climbed aboard Tankette, before feeding Bagon a Sitrus Berry. “Do you want a song?” They asked, and Bagon nodded. As the Lairon thundered on the Hero with the Steel Fist began to sing, their deep voice rumbling and rich. Bagon hunkered in, still shaking, but supported.

…

“Thank you so much, if there is anything we can do—”

“It’s fine.”

“No really there must be something—”

The Hero with the Steel Fist raised their human hand. "If you need to give me something, I could use some basic berries and potions. And I would appreciate it if you try to help out more people in turn.”

Claire’s mother nodded aggressively before gesturing to the other villagers to hurry. Meteor Falls was a secluded community inhabited by the Draconids, a people who specialized in raising Dragon Types. Steel Fist could understand that, they specialized in only Steel Types, though Steel Fist did that because the Steel Type was their special interest and not because of a tradition.

Plus, they liked it when their Pokémon matched.

Regardless, the Hero with the Steel Fist wasn't looking at the Draconids rushing to gather a reward but at Claire. She hugged her Bagon tight as both youths cried.

"Bagon is going to need a lot of support,” they stated, “I know Claire is young, this could be a lot ot pressure on her. I know of a Drampa breeder in Alola, they are good therapy Pokemon.”

”Thank you, we will do everything we can for them. I can’t imagine what they both are feeling.”

Steel Fist nodded, staring at the youths. As they looked, they could see Claire was now tickling Bagon, who was squealing with tears of laughter as they both rolled around. The superhero closed their eyes just to hope this moment would last. For all of them.

……………………

Steel Yourself

…

The Hero with a Steel Fist grabbed with their prosthetic Beldum and hauled themselves up the tree trunk. They grappled the tree, dragging their body higher. Atop the tree, a Skitty trembled, her long tail flickering wildly as she clung to the branch with her stubby legs. She desperately meowed as the tree shook under the weight of the superhero climbing.

The superhero had a strong grip; their large living prosthetic dug at the tree, helping secure them as they climbed. Steel Fist didn't have super strength, but their symbiotic prosthetic could tightly grab and punch with enormous force. They managed.

Soon enough Steel Fist had climbed up the tree trunk high enough to be the same level as the Skitty’s branch. They hung tight with their Beldum; the Steel-type Pokemon clutched the tree tightly as they extended their other hand.

The Skitty almost yodeled out in distress, before her trainer called out, “look Skitty, they are going to help you. They will carry you down.” Steel Fist nodded and extended their human hand, offering it for Skitty to sniff. The Kitten Pokemon nuzzled their hand, her tail flickering anxiously.

She slowly inched along the branch, meowing skittishly. Steel Fist waited for her to come before scooping her slowly onto their shoulder. Then Steel Fist climbed down the tree.

They reached the ground. The Skitty jumped off and ran into the arms of her trainer.

“Thank you,” the elderly woman said as she held Skitty in her hands, “Skitty was so stressed up there. If there is anything I can do to help you.”

“Thank you,” Steel Fist said, “but in all honesty, right now I need to visit a Pokemon Center. My team is a bit tired, that’s why I didn’t have Guardian just levitate her down.”

“Oh yes, of course,” the woman nodded, and Steel Fist walked off, heading to the large red and white building. They rubbed their prosthetic arm as they walked, and they hummed in response. The claws of the prosthesis clicked together as they felt the cold steel body of Beldum, both human and Pokémon were fidgeting happily.

They had named their Beldum ‘Left Hook,’ since they gave the superhero quite the punch. Left Hook was the only offspring of Guardian, and the two of them were the dearest Pokemon to Steel Fist. Though they loved all their Pokemon, of course.

Once when Steel Fist was younger, they had been a trainer challenging the gyms of Hoenn. They had thought they could beat the whole Pokemon League with just Guardian, a team made of a trainer and their Metagross. But then they lost their arm and realized just how out of depth they were.

Steel Fist hyperventilated at the resurfacing memories; their hand was shaking and their clicking wasn't excited but frantic. They swallowed and tried to focus on when Left Hook hatched, how the Pokemon just seemed to understand them, how they supported them, how they learned they could use the rocket-like Pokemon as a prosthetic, and how they decided to help protect other people and Pokemon who were helpless.

“You alright?” the nurse asked, looking concerned.

“I will manage,” Steel Fist answered as they handed over their Pokeballs. The nurse slotted the balls into a type of cradle, and they flashed before she handed them back.

“Your Pokemon are fully restored. If I may ask, what wore them out so much?”

“Forest fire,” the superhero admitted.

“Ah, and you only use Steel types.”

“Yes. It’s not the best coverage, but I love them.”

“Far be it for me to tell a trainer not to choose the Pokemon they bond with. Thank you for protecting the region of Hoenn. We get a lot more visits because of you, and a lot less funerals.”

“I do what I can,” Steel Fist blushed, but their claws clicked in a flurry of excitement. Then they pocketed their Pokeballs and walked off, still almost skipping.

“Um, excuse me,” a small voice said. Steel Fist turned to see a young girl with brown pointy hair and a small teal and purple blind bat fluttering around her. Looked like a Zubat - a Poison and Flying Type Pokemon

“Hello, is there anything I can you you with?”

“Um, Yes. My name is Tox. My village of Marshroot um, we live in a swamp but um, we need the help of a powerful trainer. Our village is being attacked every night by a rampaging Pokemon, and our Poison Types are useless against it. We think it’s a Steel Type, and since you are one of the most skilled Steel Type trainers in Hoenn, and you help everyone in need…”

“I can definitely give it a try,” nodded Steel Fist, “is it a Magnezone? An Aggron?” Either Pokémon could devastate Poison Types, especially if they were part Flying Type like a Zubat.

“No it’s … it’s one we don’t recognize. It has seven red eyes, a kind of silvery body, long arms, stocky short legs, and its cry is so … metallic.”

Steel Fist stared at the girl. They didn't respond to her but their breath grew into an odd uneven mix of hyperventilation and forgetting to inhale. They were still fidgeting but it was no longer joyous. The music of a clicking keyboard was gone, replaced by a clanging jackhammer.

“Is … is something wrong?”

“I … I do not … I will need to think this over. There may be trainers better suited to this.”

“But … but you are the Hero with a Steel Fist? You are the greatest superhero in all of Hoenn, the best in the world. Way better than that Gligirl in Johto, or the Joltikeer in Unova, or Blaziken Mask in—”

Steel Fist held up their hand, still panting. Finally, they said, “give me time to prepare, I … I will make sure your village is saved. I just … I need to prepare. Do you have accommodations, I can ask in town for living space for you.”

“Thank you but … you … you are a superhero, why can’t you do it now?”

“Because … this is a dangerous Pokémon, and I do not want to risk making things worse.” That was indeed true, but their fears ran deeper than that. Much deeper.

…

Guardian stomped forward, they were a large Steel and Psychic type, with four legs that each resembled a Beldum. Beldum would evolve into a Metang, a hovering Pokemon with two arms that liked squire like a pair of Beldum. And when Metang evolved into Metagross they looked a bit like two Metang stacked together into a quadruped.

Steel Fist was still panting, stroking Left Hook. With each stroke, the hairs on their human arm stood up and their Beldum hummed. The tingling was soothing, a vibration sent down their skin to try to steady them. But the superhero still felt their heart pound and their legs shake. And their prosthesis kept frantically clicking its claws to fidget.

Touch and sound were vital ways that Steel Fist stimmed, the cold smooth touch of metal was calming, the hum of electricity tickled their ears, and the clicking exhausted them when they were excited. Growing up, the Hero with a Steel Fist would fall asleep to the sound of office workers typing on their computers. Left Hook made that symphony interactive and added the sensation of touch to its rhythm; they gave Steel Fist a solid way to calm their racing thoughts.

Guardian nuzzled up against them, and Steel Fist laughed bitterly. “It is so stupid. I love Steel types, every single one. They are my main special interest. They have a good vibe to them. And Reg … Registeel, they are one of the weaker Leg — Legendaries in Hoenn. They are not that dangerous. I can handle it. You, Tankette, and Ronin could take them on easily. It is, it is stupid.”

Their words rang false to their ears. Even a weak Legendary was impossibly strong. There was a reason civilizations like Hisui had worshiped Legendaries as gods. Legendaries could resurrect the dead, flood cities, and evaporate lakes; Rayquaza recently destroyed a massive meteorite that could have destroyed the entire planet.

Only a fool would disrespect even a lesser Legendary.

The Metagross shook their head and hummed against Steel Fist’s chest, almost purring in a sort of computerized way. Steel Fist leaned into them as they stroked Left Hook; their body trembled as their claws clicked.

“I … I have to do it,” Steel Fist muttered, “they came to me, they have faith in me. And I … I am a superhero. And these … these people need my help I have to help them. They are helpless, they need someone to try to help them, since they cannot help themselves.”

Guardian shook their head in disagreement and Steel Fist swallowed, “and I need to do it for myself too. Registeel is a Steel Type, I think, I think they have a cute design, I need to face my fears. And I know I will always have my trauma but I, I do not need to always be ruled by it. And Registeel wasn't remotely the Pokemon I lost my, that I lost to.”

The Metagross pushed against them gently, applying some simple pressure. Steel Fist nodded and said, “thank you for your support. I … I will rely a lot on you and Left Hook out there. We … we should stop by the PC and get out Raptor, we will need to fly there I … I have wasted enough time.”

Guardian just continued to press against their partner, humming to steady their breathing.

…

“Thank you,” Tox said as she rode behind Steel Fist. The superhero and her were riding atop a Raptor, a Skarmory with blade-like wings. The Steel and Flying Type soared over Hoenn, blasting across the island and its many waterways, Hoenn was equal parts sea and land, said to have been formed by a clash between two … two Legendaries. Impossibly strong ones.

One had been Kyogre.

“It’s … it’s no trouble, I will do my best,” Steel Fist stroked Left Hook, feeling their hair start to stand up on end. Their claws clicked as they asked, “Tell me about the ruins near your village.”

“Um, well that’s the reason anyone ever treks to our swamp. They date back to the Iron Age, mostly made of stone and bricks but there is plenty of early iron tools and support beams there. Most of the iron was harvested from meteorites, humans had only just begun to mine iron.”

“Has anyone explored the ruins recently?”

“No, they flooded recently during a clash between Kyogre and Groudon, along with most of our homes and the roads to our village. Why?”

“Because the Pokemon you described is a Leg … Legendary known as Registeel. They and their fellow Titans represent eras of human civilization. Regirock is the Stone Age; Regice is the Ice Age, and Registeel represents the Iron Age. They are a pure Steel Type and tend to be found in ancient ruins. I am guessing that when your village flooded; it disturbed Registeel’s rest.”

“Oh. Um, so what do we do?”

“My Aggron and Lairon both know Earthquake. I’m going to try to crack the foundation of the ruins to drain the water away so that Registeel can return to sleep. If that doesn’t work, or if draining the flood is too hard to control, my Aggron also knows Flamethrower, and between that and Earthquake I should … should be able to wear Registeel down.”

“Oh. But why not fight them from the start?”

“…Because I would rather not get in a fight that could hurt more people,” Steel Fist answered, “best to … to make peace with a Legendary, than fight them.”

“Oh, okay,” Tox nodded.

“Registeel is a Legendary, but still is as much a Pokemon as your Zubat,” Steel Fist explained further, trying to convince themself more than the girl. "It's not some monster, it has needs, wants, and rights like any Pokémon. It should be treated respectfully.”

“I guess. But after Kyogre flooded our town … is something wrong?”

“Nothing,” Steel Fist managed to squeak out, their whole body trembling and their claws clanging together like a Kingler trying to intimidate a rival.

“We should be quiet, we are almost there.” And it was true, as the sun drew closer to setting, they were drawing closer to the swamp and the half-sunken village inside it. The homes were built on stilts, though many had collapsed or the ground had been reduced to a quagmire, sinking them. Even some of the standing homes had flooded; the water level had risen so high that it surpassed the stilts. Other homes had been ripped apart, their stilts smashed and their walls pummeled.

Steel Fist shook their head at the sight and muttered, “After all this is over, I will try to help you rebuild.”

“Oh um, thank you so much.”

“It’s no trouble.” They could at least do that much.

…

Ronin was a large bulky Aggron with a pointed helmet. He was Steel Fist’s main counter to Steel Types and Fire Types. Ronin and Tankette both were part Rock Type, and that give them some protection against fire attacks. Likewise, they both could use the moves Earthquake and Rock Slide; those moves could hurt a Fire Type, not to mention Rock Slide got a same-type attack bonus.

As Ronin stomped forward towards the flooded reaches of the ruins, he grumbled, he was weak to water, and being out in these flooded reaches didn't make him comfortable. Tankette similarly shuffled uneasily, not happy to be in such a sunken place.

“Alright,” Steel Fist said as they stroked the two Steel Types with their hands, “do you think you two can use Earthquake with enough control not to damage the ruins, but still drain the flood?”

The two of them grunted in reply before Steel Fist turned to Guardian, who was watching from the side. “What do you think?”

Guardian paused and shook their head ‘no.’

“You … you are sure?”

The Metagross pointed their leg up at the sky, gesturing towards the setting sun.

“We, we don’t have enough time,” Steel Fist swallowed and their prosthesis began to click like an old-fashioned typewriter, “You … you are right, okay, you … you feel their mind nearby?”

Guardian boomed and pointed towards a rumbling sound to the south. Steel Fist swallowed and said, “Let’s go.” Their breaths were shallow and their hands were trembling, even as night fell across this swampland.

“Okay Ronin, have a Flamethrower at the ready. Tankette, get ready with an Earthquake,” Steel Fist swallowed, “I am relying on you.”

The two Pokémon grunted, even as Left Hook began to hum. “There!’ Steel Fist shouted as they pointed towards a red glow. Both Pokemon unleashed their attacks, the ground trembling madly and a plume of flame erupting through the jungle. The fire exploded from the swamp gas, igniting a portion of the swamp in a blast of light.

And then, wading through it, came the Titan of Steel. Registeel just walked through the fire, its body a bit singed but still functioning.

Registeel spoke in a strange mechanized voice, and then a light blue aura spread across their body. Steel Fist trembled in recognition before the Registeel slammed down their long arms to vault forward. Their fists swinging simultaneously bludgeoned both Ronin and Tankette, who groaned in pain as they were flung back. They tumbled and splashed across the water, before laying limp, submerged in the flood.

“Superpower,” Steel Fist identified the move in horror. It took down both Pokemon in a single blow. Fighting was four times as effective but to take down both Ronin and Tankette in a single attack … that kind of power…

Their fear was justified. Even Registeel was beyond them.

Registeel turned towards the superhero, and the light blue aura ignited again. They charged at the superhero, who could only stare in empty shock.

Suddenly Guardian rammed into Registeel from the side, veering them off course. The Titan rampaged into a tree, falling face forward into the muck. Guardian then charged the Legendary, rearing their front left leg back, before slamming it forward like a meteor hurdling through space. The Titan tumbled through the swamp, splattering gunk everywhere.

“Guar … Guardian,” Steel Fist managed, “you don’t … run, you should … you should run.”

Guardian huffed and Registeel charged with their light blue aura, swinging both fists down. Steel Fist dropped to their knees in horror, as Guardian took the blow.

And then Guardian just slammed another Meteor Mash into Registeel, knocking them away.

“R … right, using Superpower lowers the user’s attack and defense. They have used it three times now. And they … they can only use the move five times. And you, you are part Psychic, Psychic is resistant against Fighting, it can only do normal damage. I … I know this.”

Guardian nodded in response, looking back to Steel Fist, waiting for orders.

“Thank you I … I should have trusted you,” Steel Fist managed as their claws clicked. They began to rub Left Hook as they ordered, “Okay … okay use Reflect, make him waste more energy on you. I … I will try to get in close.”

Steel Fist began to wade through the water, as Registeel ignited with a blue glow. They swung at Guardian, who formed an oval barrier in front of it, vaguely the color of denim. Registeel’s fist bounced off of the barrier, stumbling back.

“Now use Meteor Mash.” Guardian swung their fist again, even as a Registeel reared their head back. Suddenly a laser of power erupted from their eyes, plowing into Guardian. Guardian stumbled, but their punch still landed, knocking Registeel into a piece of the ruins. The Titan wobbled upright, as did Guardian. Both were being worn down.

And then Steel Fist lunged out from behind, slamming Left Hook into the Titan’s leg. The Titan swayed, even as Steel Fist flung themself to the side with another punch. Then Steel Fist pivoted and struck Registeel again, knocking them to the ground.

“Guardian, here,” they threw a berry at their partner, who ate it in a fury. As some of their strength returned, the superhero said, “Pin Registeel down like when you go hunting.”

Guardian lumbered over and then slammed their heavy metal body down, sitting down on Registeel. The Titan flailed, shrieking out in a horrid electronic screech.

Registeel struggled, trembling wildly, but they … they couldn’t break free. They were … they were left utterly helpless.

“Reg … Registeel,” Steel Fist said, wading through the swamp toward the Legendary; their human hand rubbed Left Hook as their claws clicked.

“I … I know your home has been damaged.”

Registeel thrashed and the superhero continued, “I … I can’t image what it’s like to lose your home, the grief you … you felt. But that’s what you are doing to the people who live here, you are destroying their homes too. And they lost a lot to Pri … Kyogre. Just like you did. Just like I did.”

Registeel stopped flailing for the moment, tilting their head towards Steel Fist as the superhero continued, “I lost my arm to Ky-Kyogre. I … I though I had been powerful, a prodigy. And then Kyogre destroyed me. I … I only was able to begin to rebuild thanks to my Pokemon. I will never have the dexterity of my old hand, Left Hook will always be different, but I … I have grown something new. And your home and Marshroot can be mended too.”

Left Hook hummed as the Hero with a Steel Fist rubbed them. They purred like a computer’s fan warming up and their claws clicked like a keyboard. Steel Fist closed their eyes, taking the sensations in.

Then their eyes opened and they continued to speak.

“Humans built your home ages ago, the humans of Marshroot could help mend it. Not by causing an earthquake; they could fix it the proper way, through hard work and ingenuity. And your strength could help you mend their homes, rebuild their town. The two of you could help each other grow and improve. Your homes will never be exactly the same as it was, but they will be better than they are now.”

Registeel emitted a long slow noise, before extending their hand towards Steel Fist. The autistic superhero shakily grasped it with Left Hook, and the three shook in agreement.

“I am sorry I had my Pokemon ambush you,” Steel Fist said. They wouldn't attempt to justify it.

Guardian climbed off Registeel, even as Steel Fist recalled Ronin and Tankette back into their Pokeballs. The superhero hoped Marshroot would have Revives, the two Pokemon would be unconscious until they could reach a Pokemon Center or get one. And Steel Fist couldn't leave Marshroot to find a town with a Pokémon Center, not until they were sure peace had been managed between the Titan and the people.

[doubleddenden]

The Epilogue dropped today: Mochi Madness. Its not a DLC, but rather an Event that's like a tad more complicated version of past events on the DS and GBA games- Such as how you'd obtain Victini, Darkrai, Shaymin, etc.

Although, I'll be honest, I wouldn't call it an "epilogue" because all it really does is introduce the friend groups to each other and then have a fun side adventure. Think of it like a fun, campy OVA or special episode to a concluded season. An "epilogue" would have done something to tie up the final loose ends of the story, imo.

But I'm not going to be a downer about it- This was fun, hilarious, and honestly what I've always wanted Events to be before they became mythical pokemon handouts. Although, I would have rather had some more to do, such as some of those strange structures deeper in Oni Mountain or just delving deeper into the connections between Ogerpon, Pecharunt, and the Lousy Three- although they were at least decent enough to provide small easter eggs to it, such as Ogerpon crying out when you bring her out to battle Pecharunt, Pecharunt crying out when fighting one of the Three, and Carmine talking about how Pecharunt and the Lousy Three were "definitely connected."

Its a campy little side adventure, and that's fine. I would have loved to see Carmine have more interaction with the gang, and to see the gang enjoy the festival or explore more of Kitakami, but as I figured with the end of Indigo Disk, I figured they just wanted to be done with Scarlet and Violet. Kieran had a great "redemption?" arc kind of, or at least we were able to actually work together with him and get some quality time with him in his right state of mind, and honestly I'm just thrilled to know that Arven considers us his best friend to the point he gets jealous of newbies.

Oh, and now Kieran and Carmine will appear randomly in the BB Club Room- it's a bitch and a half to get them to show up, but you can speed up the process slightly by using the system calendar to go forward a day until one or both show up. Nemona, Penny, and Arven are part of the coach system now, so all you need is about 1800 BP to get them all maxed out, and you can rebattle them on command. They also have fun interactions with each other and other characters, such as Arven learning about how "Toedscruel" from other regions can swim, Penny expanding on the facility Blueberry Academy is attached to, and Nemona actually offering up some more of her own backstory.

As for Pecharunt itself- I'll admit. I'm very let down. I thought the way things were played out before that it was building up to be this mastermind behind everything, but it's just a little runt. That's fine too, in the end, I love a good little gremlin bastard child. Its ability is pretty insane, too, automatically stacking Confusion on top of Poison status you inflict on your opponent.

Perhaps there was a much, much bigger story planned out involving it, Ogerpon, and the Loyal Three, but ultimately time, like usual, was something they sacrificed to get it out the door. Perhaps this was always the plan. Who knows.

As it wasn't DLC and it was just an extension of Indigo Disk's DLC, I'll just judge it a 7/10 for what was provided. It was fun enough, got some great laughs, some fun animations, I just wish there was more to it, and I'll always be a bit bitter that it wasn't the final answers to the story I've been seeking, nor was it more than just a gag Pokemon in the end. Still, I would love more Event Pokemon in this style. No more Zarudes or Zeraoras, give me Pecharunt all day any day.

[spotsupstuff]

Questions about the recent art post!

1. You said the first karma/natural urge glyph relates to the Anemons’ chitin skeletons— how so? I can see it as a pictograph of a few different things, but it’s so simplified that the connection ain’t obvious- at least to me.

3. Why were the lower caste kept intentionally stressed? That seems particularly spiteful.. though of course real life class- and casteism is just as arbitrarily cruel.

2. What role did the CitID drones play in population control? Was it primarily as a surveillance tool, and thus an implicit threat? Or were they like, literally designed to kill people

The relation is in the question of ,,Why would the very first prohibition/warning be related to violence?" and the answer of ,,Most likely because they indulged a lot in it at some point. It says not to do indulge in something, so the opposite had to be true beforehand to a meaningful degree." A religion spawns out of a prompt from physical reality, so what real events inspired pieces of their religion? It's related to my ideas about their "technological" development. Rather than evolving their abilities likes us through machines, they went through the biological aspects (getting to those purposed organisms not out of sadism, but because that is how they knew how to do elaborate complicated things). To know biology, they had to do a lot of research and, with the "respawn" mechanic real to them, they could have had the means to "ethically" brutalize each other (and animals) for the sake of researching how things work, what the limits are, how can they be used and augmented. Mentioning they are of chitin, not of bone, is a reassurance that they are not wearing the remains of their own species.

It's related to the idea of the Caste system, but also to keep them more vigilant since they are down there with all the animals (you could say the High castes can allow themselves the pleasure to be calm and slow about things) and then the fact that stress does cause physical issues and kills. This is a major wip currently that I'm trying to figure out: they could be biologically immortal, what with sea anemones sharing phylum with such things as the Hydra and the Immortal Jellyfish. They have incredible regenerative ability, one of the traits defining the Cnidaria phylum. They have the Small Cycle, which is the respawn mechanic from the game explained in-world (though might be changed around yet for better definition). But I'm a writer and I want my characters to die, have to confront it as a fate and as on-lookers (Sparrows dying is important for Caper's character, for example), I want them to have different past lives that could plague them, that they would need to reflect on. There needs to be some kind of stake in the story to make it interesting. There's also no explanation for how they don't overpopulate the planet (just Sparrows is one of 13 children from one pair of parents), from sociological outlook immortal people who remember things are also disadvantegous to manipulators with political power. So I'm trying to figure out limits for their abilities, what *could* kill them enough to result in a reincarnation we are familiar with, what they should be afraid of, give good reasons that make sense. Stressing out the Low castes to make them die and therefore have them in a sort of monstrous rotation and in somewhat controllable numbers would be beneficial for the Elites, while they get to live on for as long as they want. Nineteen Spades, Endless Reflections I imagine was over 900 when he took the Void way out. Sparrows dies in her 110s, some of her siblings in their 70s-90s. Still a wip though, needs troubleshooting and confirming it doesn't poke holes Somewhere in the logic and if things feel right.

Surveillance tool, yes. Secretly keeping track of the citizens' indulgence and location next to the public knowledge of being helpful tools for things like navigation and circumventing karma gates.

[outofangband]

“Beleriand is wide and houseless for exiles...”

Morwen, The House of Bëor and the Trauma of Dagor Bragollach

updated post with more meta on the House of Bëor in general and links to other relevant posts.

Actually has been updated to read like a real post and not just rambling!

Related post on Morwen and Rían and the survival of traditions

My general tag for Bëorian cultural trauma is houseless for exiles  where I have a lot more rambling like this

So Morwen is obviously one of my very favorite characters in Tolkien’s world, in general  and she is in my opinion one of the most interesting figures in The Children of Húrin, though as she is separated from Túrin for so long there are long periods of her life we have only summaries on. I find these fascinating to speculate on and read/write about

I wrote this post while very tired so I hope this makes sense and is ok, I’ve definitely seen more eloquent meta on the subject, I just wanted to throw out some thoughts and I wanted to write more about the trauma her people went through during Dagor Bragollach

I want to make two posts on this, this one which is an introduction and some general thoughts then a second one that will go into more specific headcanons about how the trauma of the Bragollach manifests for Morwen.

The Battle of the Sudden Flame and the aftermath is such an important part of Morwen’s life that likely plays a significant part in shaping her character though it happens before the events of the book and is mentioned only briefly, much information needing to be found through inference and connecting details

The House of Bëor lived in Ladros in Eastern Dorthonion where Aegnor and Angrod, sons of Finarfin, lived and lead a defense of the Watchful Peace, maintaining a friendship with their Edain allies. Ladros was a cool land of pine forests and steep, craggily slopes that lay South of the great green fields of Ard-Galen and then of Angband and the regions of Morgoth.

On a cold winter night in the year 455 of the First Age, rivers of flames, many choked in poisonous fumes, were sent down from the Thangorodrim. These utterly devastated Ard-Galen turning it from the fertile, green lands to a desert made uninhabitable by the lingering clouds of toxic air. Next came a legion of balrogs with Glaurung leading them and a massive army of orcs that quickly invaded Dorthonion, killing countless elves and humans including Aegnor and Angrod, taking a large number captive and occupying and/or displacing the rest of the Bëorians. Barahir, the father of Beren led a group of outlaws including the fathers of Morwen and Rían. Their group was killed in a massacre by the lake Tarn Aeulin several years later after

(It’s likely Morwen knew nothing of this until she came to Doriath, if even then)

During the chaos of the invasion of Ladros, Emeldir, the mother of Beren fought to protect the children of the Bëorians, many if not most of whom had been orphaned. She managed to lead a group of refugees Southwest to Brethil where the Halidan took them in. Later, though there is not much said in the text about this, a small group of the surviving Bëorians would come to Dor-Lómin in Hithlum where the Hadorians lived. (Note: I have two posts speculating on their route, here and here)

Morwen was elven or twelve when Dagor Bragollach broke out, depending on when in the year her birthday is*. She was likely orphaned during the invasion though we know only that she was separated from her father who was later killed. She was among the Bëorian refugees who would come to Hithlum though her age at the time is unknown. There is so much that is unknown about her life before the events of the Narn.

I also spoke about this on a few different posts, but I’ve oft wondered if Morwen’s time in Brethil as a child was not a good one. Our glimpse into how some of the Haladin treat those who are mentally ill, neurodivergent or traumatized in The Wanderings of Húrin is a very bleak one and although this is certainly not representative of all the people of Brethil, this combined with parts of Morwen’s conversation with Húrin prior to the Nírnaeth leads me to believe she does not look at her time there with good feelings

Both the text of the Narn and Morwen herself describe her as an exile; one who has not only been forced to leave their home but who is forbidden from returning.

The word diaspora obviously comes to mind as well.

There is a bitter shame that bubbles beneath her cloak of pride, an unearned shame but one that has left its mark on her nonetheless (another thing I've mde way too many posts on tbh; her grief and pride are completley inextricable from each other, almost every line in the Narn mentioning her pride or her more severe qualities comes with the addendum that as much as it is directed at others, it is also directed at herself; "for Morwen was as stern with others as with herself", "she did not seek to comfort him any more than herself, etc")

That Morwen is a refugee in Dor-lómin is an important aspect of her character as is her likely trauma from Dagor Bragollach, how flames and armies drove her and her people from their home, killed so many of them, destroying their families and way of life.

It’s not difficult to speculate on the extent of violence that she witnessed and the horrific trauma she was barely old enough to understand. Eleven or twelve is such an age, just starting to understand your own identity and place in your family and community and culture and then to have that so brutally torn apart…

(I personally headcanon that she was injured in the Bragollach and had burn scars but that’s a different post)

I think her pride is very much tied to the fact that she is one of the only remaining members of the House of Bëor, a people who Morwen herself considers all but gone as she says to her husband in the first chapter.

I’m thinking about how this impacts her choice to remain in Dor-lómin after Nirnaeth, thinking that perhaps this time nothing short of another fiery inferno will drive her from her home. How she will not flee again (even as Rían, another of the few survivors, runs again and runs until she cannot get up).

And what’s on her mind when she speaks with Húrin before he leaves for Nirnaeth, how she believes her House to be fallen and fears Húrin’s following suit. The destruction of Hithlum would mean another home taken from her.

I’m also wondering about her significantly less optimistic view of the elves. While Húrin is heartened by the knowledge that the lords of the Noldor have known Valinor and the Valar themselves, Morwen thinks quietly of the exile of the Noldor from Valinor. Which also makes her being labeled elffriend (derogatory) and accused of power akin to theirs

“Húrin Thalion, this I judge truer to say: that you look high, but I fear to fall low.”

That Morwen lives in her own home under occupation for so long adds yet another painful irony to that quote.

“Beleriand is wide and houseless for exiles” is also just one of my very favorite spoken lines by Morwen. I just always feel so strongly that Morwen is not just talking about her hypothetical future there but also her here and now. Even in the safety of her own home and room (I always pictured that conversation as in their bedroom?) she is acutely aware that she will never return to where she grew up, that the place of her and her people in the world has been irrevocably changed. She is contemplating this ordeal being repeated and likely becoming more convinced that it will be. The sheer exhaustion alone of having to reckon with that…

I don’t think the parallels between Morwen and Túrin with regard to fleeing and being hunted or trapped and the ways these and the fear of them shape their lives are discussed enough

A lot of Túrin’s story is about exile. He is forced to flee his home and spends most of the story away from it, deprived of news of his loved ones and people for years at a time. When he does return it is temporary and he finds it unrecognizable.

Even his memories of home, of any home he makes, are clouded.

But his home is not Morwen’s, at least not in the same way. What he loses in Dor-lómin, Morwen has lost more than a decade before the events of the Narn.

Morwen escapes Glaurung twice and ends up in Brethil both times afterwards. Like not to put too fine a point on it but she has always been running and trying to escape the horrors of the past and also she lives in fear, a very real fear, of being forced out, forced to run, or else trapped and imprisoned. When she fears Thingol means to keep her in Doriath against her will, she tells him this fear is part of what made her delay going and I don’t think she is exaggerating in the slightest.

I am just never not obsessed with the themes of diaspora, exile, and persecution in The Children of Húrin.

Anyways I hope this is coherent and all. Hopefully I’ll say something more meaningful on this later. I love Morwen very much.

*as the year of her birth is from The Shaping of Middle Earth it is not considered strictly canon however it does match up with other timelines and events.

[haikyuucollective]

Part 1/? - Why Volume 37 of Haikyuu is Goated

Rereading Volume 37 never gets old. I'm so confident that I could reread it over 1,000 times and still never tire. The amount of anticipated events unfolding during it is definitely one of the two main factors, but of course, it couldn't have been executed as wonderfully as it did without the author himself. Furudate is amazing at his craft, and in my opinion, I think this volume showcases it extremely well; for starters, lets talk battle. Spoilers ahead!

The End of The Battle of The Garbage Dump

Perhaps one of the biggest attributes to this volume was the greatly anticipated ending to Nekoma vs. Karasuno. I can only imagine the excitement going on during the release of this volume; would Nekoma somehow take the last set? Is Karasuno going to lose against them again? Are they going to win? How will both teams react, regardless of the outcome?

With only a few pages left in the battle, each team pushed themselves to their limit, with even the opposed-to-sweat-and-tiredness Kenma giving it his all. While watching this scene in theaters, I was literally at the edge of my seat, gripping my ICEE cup and armrest as if one of them scoring would cause the theater to crumble. My friends and I were so entranced, that we, along with Hinata, didn't realize that the game was truly over until the scoreboard was shown.

I remember feeling my grip slowly release, gasps from both sides of my seat (along with my own), slapping me back into reality.

Turns out that the slight mishap Kenma had with setting the ball due to the sheer amount of sweat accumulated on it lost Nekoma the game.

However, even though they lost, Nekoma was dedicated the entire time. I figure they knew that this was the last set, and as such, every point mattered 110% more than usual. They forewent being passive and instead chose to try and truly embody their schools' motto: connect.

We can see how they did this until the very end, with Nobuyuki and futakuchi rushing, slamming themselves against the floor in order to have a chance at receiving the ball.

Even though they lost, Nekoma lost knowing they had given it their all.

The ending sequence right after, although having zero dialogue, was perfect. Words didn't need to be said; their actions speaking for them all.

In the panels below we see friends from both teams embracing each other, celebrating Karasunos victory and a match well played. Rivals are respected, kouhais are praised, and our beloved seniors in the bottom left corner are seen holding eachother after winning yet another match during their last season.

We also see supporters from both sides, giving both teams their applause at the very end. While rivals, the respect they hold for each other is clear, and no negative responses were shown. Both sides won, and lost, with grace.

Finally, and in my opinion the most heartwarming, the thanking of the mentors. Similar to the supporters, both of the mentors show obvious respect for the other. However, while this scene may seem sweet to those who have not been keeping up with the series, it's even moreso meaningful when you have. This match may had been highly anticipated by the viewers, but it was even higher for the teams themselves. Finally being able to play each other again at nationals was a defining moment for these players, and especially, coaches.

As we see Nekomata shaking hands with Takeda, our eyes scroll to the next page to find Coach Udai, the retired renowned coach of Karasuno and Nekomatas close friend. He had been watching the match closely with his neighborhood team, and seeing Nekomata with Takeda, both congratulating on a game well played, reached out his hand as well.

In spirit, he is with Nekomata, the two of them standing on the court where their teams finally played against one another again. They shake hands; the cat and crow both satisfied.

And there you have it, a game well played. I was planning on going even further with this, however tumblrs 10 image policy politely said "not today". However, with what I have jotted down onto here, I hope your opinion on Volume 37 has been affected at least the teeniest bit. Furudate was able to convey so much with so little, which is inherently a gift most mangakas acquire, however I believe he went above and beyond here. The third years with their backs towards the crowd, facing the future. The players embracing their parallels from the other team, showing friendships and rivalries that continue to stay strong. Nekomata and Udai finally being content, the cat and crow standing passively towards each other, the battle of the garbage dump finally complete. All in all, the ending to The Battle Of The Garbage Dump was one of the key reason why Volume 37 is goated because it wraps up the highly anticipated match in a way that is satisfying and meaningful. I'm sorry I couldn't go into as much detail as I wished to, but I hope you all enjoyed nonetheless.

Thank you for reading! I'll try my best to get the next part out extremely soon.

Citations

Furudate, Haruichi. "Haikyu!!" Shonen Jump, April 4th 2019, vol. 37 chapter 324

[brittlebutch]

the thing is, you’re absolutely right! because what neurotypical people sometimes don’t understand is the massive difference between the average level of social interaction that they themselves vs other people get outside of organized or scheduled events like work or school, and also don’t understand the massive difference between what failure looks like, and how those two things overlap. i’m told that among the average neurotypical person, they’ll make a point to talk to people in their lives or hang out with friends or go on dates or chat with other people in public spaces, al to have casual interactions, multiple times a day, multiple days a week. meaning, if they have a failed social interaction, it’s buffered by the many successful interactions they’ll go on to have. failure most likely won’t mean complete isolation, because they have multiple avenues of interaction to fall back on. and, moreover, a failure in a social interaction when you have (on average) fewer than most means that now rather than that person going “oh that was a weird interaction, i talk to them a lot and it’s not usually like that, maybe it was an off day” they go “huh i don’t know that person very well maybe they’re just like that?”, which means that the odds are way different on whether relationships stay good after mistakes.

social skills are not actually as inherent as neurotypical people like to think. it’s just that when you’re always in practice, always getting back on the proverbial horse, the advice “just get back out there!” does actually work very well. but if you’re not able to do that for any variety of reasons, you can’t play the game the same way. my advice is not “try harder”, it’s “lower your expectations for yourself on what a good interaction and a moment of connection might be”. just as it’s possible you’re somehow unintentionally upsetting people, it’s possible you’re unintentionally making them feel happy, or valued, or heard, even in small, passing interactions. remind yourself that you’re working with fewer resources and a much more limited data pool. a lot of the advice being given is coming from someone who assumes they understand what the math looks like for you, because it’s very difficult to imagine that other side. so instead of trying to overlay a system made for someone who has resources that you just don’t have, you need to figure out what a functional system of interaction looks like for you, and adapt the advice given to fit your situation. my advice, bearing that in mind, is that finding communities and groups can look like a lot of different things, and getting your social needs met can come from a lot of sources, and ideally should! you would understand best what your situation is, and there’s no shame in changing tact to accommodate for your own needs and boundaries.

forgot to answer this for a bit lol BUT yeah, the post was a little bit more about the Conceptual argument than it was about me specifically, so I'm definitely already with you re: 'finding out what your Individual social goals are and working based off of those instead having high expectations based off of other people's metric' stuff. You definitely have a huge point with the "social buffer disparity" between NT people and ND people, where failures are both less demoralizing internally and less impactful externally when you're able to have a greater average of interactions generally also

but I really appreciated the "just as it’s possible you’re somehow unintentionally upsetting people, it’s possible you’re unintentionally making them feel happy, or valued, or heard, even in small, passing interactions" aspect of this message. I do definitely have a recurring problem of like, labeling Myself as an Uncanny Valley Person and automatically assuming that every interaction I'm involved in must be some level of uncomfortable for the other person -- it actually was kind of a revolution moment reading this and realizing that OH it does make sense that if I can unintentionally make people uncomfortable, it's statistically just as likely that I can unintentionally lift people's spirits in one way or another! So thank you very much for that!!

[frary-us]

“i’ve never done a ghost story before...”

Till death do us part: Matt and Lisa are torn apart – but why?

3 MIN READ

PLATFORM 7 | ITVX THURSDAY 

This supernatural thriller – based on Louise Doughty’s 2019 novel of the same name – follows Lisa Evans, a young woman who frequents platform seven of a railway station. After witnessing a tragic event at the depot, Lisa’s blurred memories come into focus, unearthing a connection between that moment and her own life – and death. The four-parter stars Jasmine Jobson (Top Boy) as Lisa; Toby Regbo (A Discovery Of Witches) as her boyfriend Matt; Rhiannon Clements (Hollyoaks’ Summer Ranger) as Lisa’s best friend Izzy, and telly veteran Phil Davis as Edward – a man with an unearthly connection to Lisa. Here, Jasmine, and Toby tell Inside TV more… 

Hi, both! What appealed to you about this series?

Jasmine It has to be the supernatural thing. There’s something about being a spirit and being around people without their knowledge, and playing about with them when they’ve irritated you! And I hadn’t played anybody like Lisa before, so it was also about trying something new.

Toby This is the first modern piece I’ve done in ages. I seem to just do period dramas! So to make the switch towards psychological realism, I feel as though you can get away with more. And I’ve never done a ghost story before. 

The doctor will see you now: Matt and Lisa feel the chemistry

It must feel strange not acknowledging that the other actor is there? 

Jasmine Yeah, it definitely felt weird being in scenes yet not really being involved. I had to get used to not having anything to say! 

Toby Trying to pretend that somebody isn’t there is surprisingly difficult. It’s interesting how your body just responds to somebody being there, like trying to pass right beside someone without making any little movements that you naturally do to accommodate another human being. 

How was it playing those moments where Lisa walks through walls?

Jasmine So that took a while to figure out. I’d walk through open doors, and I accidentally pushed a door open once! But once we knew what we were doing, it was wicked. 

Toby, do you think that Matt believes in ghosts?

Toby No – I think, as a doctor, he’s a man of science. I don’t think he has any inkling that Lisa is standing behind him, nor that he has a sense thatt there’s life after death. Which is interesting in terms of where the story goes…

There’s also an important relationship between Edward and Lisa – Jasmine, what was it like working with Phil Davis? 

Jasmine Oh, Phil was absolutely amazing. He’s such a phenomenal actor. Our scenes together were very special. It was a delight to have him at the station playing Edward – who has quite an interesting secret of his own…

Do you believe in ghosts?

Jasmine I sometimes see spirits and I can tell if there’s a presence around me. One thing that I’ve always been aware of is you must never say hello to them if they’re in your home. You need sage and frankincense, and you need to bless your house. 

Toby I haven’t had any first-hand experiences with the supernatural and I’ve always tended to err on the side of the material. However, that doesn’t mean to say that when I’m staying at my friend’s place in the Dorset countryside, when the moon’s out and there are owls, that I don’t sprint across the lawn to get back inside the house! 

CHIEF in-spectre 

RHIANNON CLEMENTS TELLS US HOW HER ALTER EGO TURNS AMATEUR SLEUTH… 

When it comes to her best friend’s untimely passing, Rhiannon’s character is fixed on finding the truth… 

“The big thing for Izzy is that she doesn’t believe Lisa’s death was suicide,” she says. “She thinks that there’s something else to be uncovered – and won’t let it lie till she knows what.” 

As for believing in the supernatural, making the series led to a spooky coincidence for the star...

“Phil’s character has a dog, and in some scenes, it barks at what’s seemingly an empty space,” shares Rhiannon. “I recently moved into a Victorian house, and my dog has now started barking at empty spaces. It does leave me with chills!”

[orchidelegance]

review - ghost trick: phantom detective

app store, nintendo store; first chapters free, full game $10 playtime: ~4-5hrs rating: 8/10 replayability: 7/10

crazy characters. insane plot. twistier and turnier than a maze. character design happened while on acid probably. such an excellent game.

ghost trick: phantom detective by capcom is a game of "how many" - how many times you're willing to replay a scene before you go look up a guide, how many times sissel has to help other people in his quest to find himself, how many times you take screenshots of missile saying something only a dog would say. every chapter took me tantalizingly closer to the answer only for the ending to completely blow me away with how incomprehensible and perfectly sensible it was. there's an explanation for everything, and there are so many things that need explaining that at the very end, the explanations come in a barrage of satisfaction that leaves me wanting to replay and see where i missed the clues.

every single character is interesting and lovable, all with their own stories and motivations, from the dancing guard to the simpering henchman to the chicken chef and the waitress on rollerskates. even characters you only see in one scene have an important role to play and a life that you get a glimpse into. each design is so incredibly fun, colorful, and silly, and it echoes the game's message - that everyone is connected, and we are all a part of each other's story.

though i used a guide for most of the game (sue me - there's a great one here by fukuyasu), it's definitely not impossible to do on your own with a little more patience and brainpower. the puzzles were fun, though they can become tedious if you're committed to figuring it out on your own. for me, this game was character driven, and i wanted to complete each stage as fast as i could to see a little more of the story. honestly even with how frustrating i found some of the stages, i would still replay it if i had a few hours on my own and see if i can untangle the threads from the beginning - and to see sissel, kamila, lynne, missile, jowd, cabanela, and the others again.

spoilers below

damn! that ending! sissel-cat is too cute. and the yomiel-creature made up of junk and a cone was hilarious. i didn't like that we went back in time to erase everything, and then suddenly it happened in a way i was surprisingly very satisfied with. sissel being yomiel's cat is an ending only ghost trick could have and could make sense of. i wish we got a little more explanation about the blue people, but i did like the insights in the credits into the other characters' lives in the new future.

that gay little family photo at the end was so funny because jowd's wife is fully alive here but instead he's taking a photo with his daughter (kamila) and his adopted not-daughter (lynne) with his work husband (cabanela) who is also lynne's work dad. and their two pets...

one thing i don't understand is why there's no meetup or anything since yomiel said they would all retain the memory of the past events even if those technically didn't exist in this reality, which i liked as a continuity mechanism to deal with fuzzy time travel mechanics. technically they would all remember what had happened right? or at least jowd, yomiel, sissel, and missile would since they were the ones who went back to yomiel's death. i did like that yomiel was fully prepared to die over and over for baby lynne to atone for his crime of holding her hostage, and that we all thought he died before they revealed he was still alive. it makes him a sympathetic "antagonist" in the perfect way, and opens the road to reconciliation.

what a fun game! i love cat sissel so much.

[ey-there-little-guy]

hi again! came across your size shifter c!tubbo post! i think that concept is amazing! sizeshifters are always a really fun thing to tamper! for some angst, i can imagine tubbo just shrinking down after the events at the festival and trying to hide away. for some fluff, totally can see tubbo going tiny and playing some pranks on tommy or others on the server! i remember tubbo made that thing in tommy's house where when he stepped in a certain area he fell to his death. i imagine that, but that's only in tubbo's mind; in reality it's just a tripwire lol

revengers stream would also be much easier, he could just grow and trap sam until they reached the prison.

if you ever plan to take that idea any further, is tubbo able to grow/shrink other objects? what about people? and if so, is it something that can happen by a simple subconscious thought or does he need to work hard to achieve it?

sorry if this is a lot lol, c!tubbo is one of my favorite canonical dream smp members :D

— 🕶️

Thank you! :D cTubbo is also one of my favorites, I love that guy!

And oh I love that, Tubbo being able to shrink only after the festival and hiding, and him just being a quite literal little menace to the server at other times, just a little guy planning your downfall.

Revengers stream, oh I could see him being giant or mini-giant sized there definitely, lol Sam doesn't stand a chance. and then getting Michael back and holding him close, shrinking back down to more normal sizes when safe so by the time he is they're properly hugging, aww.

tbh, sizeshifter!tubbo is one of my ideas with less inspiration to fuel it so i'm more likely to come back to it as only concepts, but it's a concept i very much love which is why i decided to share it. :D

I hadn't thought of him being able to do that but oooh!! Tubbo being able to grow/shrink others or things sounds cool. He'd probably have to work to achieve it I think.

If that's the case, sizeshifting in this starts to remind me more of how block/inventory mechanics are sometimes portrayed, with blocks and other items getting shrunk to fit in whatever the inventory is and going back to normal once the player has taken them out or put them down.

so then maybe sizeshifting is kinda like if a player had those mechanics applied to themself, with more variation in size than 'inventory size' and 'normal'. they're just more connected than others to whatever bit of reality makes that kind of shrink/growth possible. I imagine it could still be done with some magic or potions, but sizeshifters do it so much more naturally, it's basically its own type of magic.

So, there's a bit of worldbuilding for sizeshifter!tubbo i guess! I really like that idea that one day he figures out he can shrink/grow others, probably through vicinity.

just like, Michael riding around in Tubbo's shirt pocket and taking an afternoon nap so snugly, or Tommy convincing Tubbo to make him taller than Ranboo for a day, or Ranboo shorter than him, both at the same time, maybe it's all Tubbo's idea for a prank, and if Tubbo ever gets good enough at it he can just shrink anyone that tries to attack him while they're still rushing to attack and pluck them up LOL.

But I think it'd be very slow growing/shrinking of others before he gets good enough to do it that quickly. Wrangling whatever he does to make himself grow and shrink so it works on others sounds like a challenge, but one Tubbo would try to do. :D

thank you for the ask!! i'm happy to hear you liked the sizeshifter cTubbo! and no need to apologize, i don't mind long rambles at all lol they're fun. ^_^

[emily-mooon]

In the The First Shadow, George and Betty Are New Characters and Not Characters we Already Know

I have seen a lot of theories go around as to who George and Betty might be, But one thing about those theories always makes me think one thing. Why would they hide names of characters we already know and can assume that are in it due to other characters?

Let me start of with saying that there is nothing wrong with liking the theories. Some of them are cool and do make sense in some way. To me they don’t make sense due to that question I put forward and age discrepancies between the characters put forward and George and Betty.

Now let’s get into the first part. The character ideas.

1.1 George is either Henry or Lonnie

Out of the two, Henry is the most common answer I have seen so we will start with him. A lot of people assume that George Smith is an alias for Henry Creel. A cover up. This does make a bit of sense as in the recently released audition tapes, George has some connection to flickering lights as Betty was able to sense him and also was hiding something during confessional. But there are two things wrong with this theory: age and appearance.

On the casting call, it says that George is 14.

But Henry’s age in the show is stated as being 12 (in the newspaper article). The Duffers are known for not being the best at continuity with little details for characters so this could easily mean nothing but season 4 and this play were probably written at the same time because as stated before, the play will be apart of the series canon. They do not want anything about it to not make sense with anything we have seen already.

This is where we now move onto Lonnie. It has been pointed out that the possible(?) actor for George looks a lot like Lonnie and nothing like Henry (source henrysglock).

This is a more underrated theory. It is a really good one as well but again the issue with age comes up. If George is fourteen, how would he interact with Joyce, a high school senior?

Now it has been hinted at that Lonnie will be in the play by the writers, but not in the place of George. Here’s my theory:

In the synopsis that was released on the day the play was revealed, it states two things about Joyce an Hopper (sorry for bad image quality)

Hopper’s car won’t start and Joyce wants to leave Hawkins. I think that Lonnie is a bit older than Joyce (he’s around 19-20). He makes these promises to her while Hopper is figuring out what’s wrong with his car that he is her way out of Hawkins and tells lies about Hopper. In the process, Joyce falls in love with Lonnie and the same goes for him as well.

Now this does not mean that it’s still possible. Lonnie could be fourteen at the time of events. It would be weird considering the fact that Joyce is around eighteen at the time and I’m a bit weirded out by that idea. But these theories bring me back to the question from the start. Why would they need to hide Lonnie and Henry’s names in a casting call when we already know that they are going to be in it?

By proxy, we know that Lonnie will be in it because Joyce is in it. We know that Henry is in it because he is on the promotional material. We already know these characters. We have seen them already in the show. This means that George is a new character we have never met.

Let’s move on to Betty.

1.2 Betty is Ms. Kelley

I have seen this idea once. Like the other ones it’s good, but go back to the discrepancies. I also have some of my own personal issues with Ms. Kelley theories. I personally think that she is a red herring. Everything about her seems too obvious. The clock key necklace, the clocks everywhere, and many more feel too on the nose.

If you don’t know what a red herring is, here is the definition (look at the highlighted text or #2):

In mysteries, the most obvious suspicious person is never the killer, it always the one you least suspect. The clock stuff is meant to distract you from what is actually going to happen and who is actually responsible.

Also the way I saw this theory gets tied in with how Henry is actually George but since we can disprove it with two things, I think her role if she is in the play could be different. I will explain it after this next section on who George and Betty actually are.

2. Who They Are

Now that we have gone through the theories, who could Betty and George actually be? They aren’t characters we have seen before so who are they? Let me tell you.

The descriptions of Betty and George remind me of two characters: Nancy and Jonathan.

Pale and moody outcast? That’s Jonathan.

Goody two shoes falling for said pale and moody outcast? Sounds like Nancy.

Obviously they cannot be in it since they are not actually alive yet, but the role of Betty and George is like theirs.

Betty is going to be the first person who notices that weird things are going on. Eventually, George gets sucked in and the two work together to figure out what's happening and come to a conclusion. The conclusion being that Henry is behind it. Just like Jonathan and Nancy, a bit of a romance is going to spark between them as it states in Betty's description that she is falling for George.

Now where does Ms. Kelley fit into all this? Well I think that the key-clock necklace she wears around her neck is important. Betty gives it to her for safe keeping and the way that they know each other is through church as Betty would help out I assume. Unwillingly, Ms. Kelley is used by Vecna to find people he can curse as the necklace she wears is connected to the grandfather clock we see used a lot by him.

But what about the stuff with George having powers and being able to see into the mindscape? Well this post from a Twitter thread I saw through my lurking (I don’t have twitter) sums up what I’m thinking:

George could be a target of Henry’s because if George has similarities to Jonathan, he could be the only person who sees Henry’s true character and Henry may or may not like that because it would ruin his plans.

Another idea is that Henry uses George as a human test subject with his powers because so far we have only seen him use them on animals. Henry is not stupid to jump into a plan he wants to work. In the process George gets cursed somehow.

I don’t know exactly how these two ideas would work with what we currently know about the upside down but anything is possible I guess.

Feel free to expand upon my ideas. All input is welcome. I guess I hope you all have a good day tomorrow!

[benjaminthewolf]

Sweet, Evil Dreams (Vore Story)

Welp.

I did it.

I’ve finally reached the end of my self-indulgent list of vore story ideas to get to someday.

The experience I had writing this was quite literally the most downright insane experience I have ever had writing anything ever. And as a result of that, a little while after this story releases, I will be releasing as a complementary story, the, as it is labeled in google docs, “Shitpost edition” of this same piece.

****

Nights in the Skylander Academy dorms were barely any different from each date to the next. The area was extremely well protected not only by a complex web of security cameras and alert systems, but also by constantly patrolling specially trained security guards, ever at the ready to strike upon any unforeseen intruder should the situation arise. As a result, if one were predisposed to launch an attack on any amount of the slumbering residents within, the most promising method of doing so would seem to be by pouncing upon them internally, rather than externally. Or, stated another way, deep within their dreams.

Thus, on this particular, otherwise unassuming night, a dream-bound battle of victims seemingly chosen by random promptly appeared inside the other reality, and a sequence of events destined to be remembered only by one at last commenced upon a call.

“Tread Head!” a voice called to the relatively unknown tech trap team core whom was rather unfortunately overshadowed by his elemental counterpart of Chopper back when the series was in its prime. The lightly shifting body of the Skylander told the voice on the outside that the little guy was conscious, but still needed to be coaxed a little more in order to open his eyes.

“Hey come on, wake up! Something’s very wrong here!”

Now that the odd, murmuring tech core was considerably more aware, he was able to subconsciously pair the voice he was hearing to that of a face. He definitely recognized it. It wasn’t something he could’ve known on the spot, but upon flickering open his big light blue eyes, he finally figured it out.

“Wham-Shell?” he sputtered out with a gasp as he swiftly sat up.

****

Now, taking the moment to interject, I must of course preface that the following duo of characters, as well as the actions that they are about to take, were not made by conscious decision in any stretch of the imagination. If the little introductory section at the start didn’t already tip you off, this story is going to be very hard to write. Not because of length, nor any technical roadblocks. No. In reality, this entire scene was chosen by my subconscious brain, and my subconscious brain alone, to play out amongst my slumber well over a year ago. There is a very good reason I saved this story for last on my list of self-indulgent ideas to get to. It is because the concept was not, in truth, made by me. I have of course, invented details here and there and added on description in order to make the narrative flow better. But the fact of the matter is that the only reason I am sitting here now writing this story is because my concept was practically forced upon my being using the will of the dream. Had that dream not happened, this entire concept would be entirely nil.

I do indeed have my thoughts on why my brain might have chosen these two characters in particular. I have a soft spot for Tread Head, if only for how underappreciated he is in the Skylander community. Wham-Shell, though he was never on my list of favorites, not by a long shot, was still held in somewhat high regard if only because he is indeed a part of a character group so near and dear to my heart, that of course being the Skylanders as a whole. I am unfortunately not able to make any discernible connection between the two of them other than that they are of the same fighting group. That being said, if you are one of those readers that almost immediately looks up a character’s design upon the author not providing significant description right away, then congratulations. You might have already figured it out.

Yes, it is indeed my belief that the only reason my brain chose these two in particular to be put through what is going to happen to them next is that fact that their designs have but a few superficial similarities, though only superficial, of course. A color palette of reds and browns upon the body, whilst possessing blue eyes, a body that is more circular in nature than most of the others, now, at last, there is an established connection.

I do intend to utilize this story to do quite more than just write down the contents of the dream, though that, of course, will be the first and foremost priority. Either way, I believe I have said my piece. You have, of course, come here in search of vore, and that is exactly what I intend to provide you all with. Thus, without further ado, please, sit back, relax, grab a snack, and enjoy this utterly bizarre experience I had in my sleep many many many moons ago.

****

“Yeah, yeah it’s me. Listen. Do you have absolutely any idea at all why we might have ended up stranded in the middle of a desert?” Wham-Shell proceeded to ask his still waking fellow Skylander, with a bit of hasty panic in his voice.

“...the desert? I-huh?” Tread Head awkwardly replied as he attempted to survey the area. He did know through his peripheral vision in those first few seconds that wherever the two of them were, there sure was a lot of open space with a ground that was a weird shade of golden-orange. Yet prior to actually being told it was a desert, the possibility that such a biome could be the explanation for this area’s oddly specific traits had never actually consciously crossed the little guy’s mind.

Sure enough, however, just as Wham-Shell had said, upon but a simple, few-second long inspection, Tread Head had it all but confirmed within his mind that it was, indeed, a desert. The open, seemingly infinite fields of the previously described golden-orange sands did not lie.

The sun appeared to be right above the two Skylanders’ heads at the moment, with not a single cloud to speak of tampering with its shine, and the only other thing around the area that could be seen aside from themselves and the blinding orange and blue was an old, worn-down stone brick fort of some kind, secluded nicely south of the two, relative to their current position, thus giving them but one single option of where to go if the option of retreat became necessary.

Yes, there was absolutely no denying that they were currently in a desert. But that was just it. That was all they knew about where they were. No other hints, signals, or clues as to who, what, where, when, or how they had gotten here. Nothing. Nothing, zip, nada. Nothing.

It was only a little while after this fact had set in that Tread Head noticed that his iconic tread bike that gave him his name was indeed with him, too. So was Wham-Shell’s arguably more iconic mace that also gave him his name. This meant that the two of them were able to defend themselves if the situation called for it, but regardless, the presence of their weapons was only to give the poor confused Skylanders far more questions about their current situation than answers.

“...Wham-Shell.” Tread Head eventually ended up saying. “I have just as much of a clue as you do as to what’s going on.”

Wham-Shell let out a sigh. “Well…….” his voice began to thoughtfully trail off in rather deep inquiry before finally piping up again. “I mean-”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”

“...*sigh*.....” Wham-Shell rather reluctantly heaved out, whilst forcing himself to shelve for the moment his previous train of thought. “Forget I said anything at all…”

It was only now that the two of them finally had some sort of clue as to what was going on. And yet, as was to be expected at this point by members of a group who were trained to thwart at least three of this guy’s evil plans all before lunch, they really, really, really wished that they didn’t.

“Lord…if I had to count the amount of times I’ve had to deal with that laugh…” Wham-Shell irritatedly grumbled to himself through clenched teeth. “The academy would probably have to build another library!”

A sudden puff of black smoke was instantaneously blown into the unexpecting man’s face before the deep, roaring noises that could only be indicative of an engine suddenly revved up.

“Nevermind about that right now, Wham-Shell, we’ve gotta get to that fort over there, fast! He’s probably going to make mincemeat out of us if he catches us out in the open!” Tread Head piped up as he continued with starting up his tread bike. “Get on!”

As he understood implicitly that, indeed, getting to the fort was currently their only option, Wham-Shell didn’t protest, swiftly getting himself situated onto what was left of the seating space on the thing, holding his mace sideways in his hands as he sat, before a huge cloud of sand and dust was rapidly kicked up around the duo of Skylanders, causing the poor crustacean to choke a little, until at last the tread bike gave a screech whilst it peeled out away from the thing, roaring viciously as it effortlessly grinded across the fine, desert grounds.

Wham-Shell wasn’t really sure how many seconds, exactly, had passed until they were at the fort, (he was so lost in thought at for the time being that he could barely even discern that there was sand around him anymore), but regardless, once the tread bike screeched to a halt in front of the thing, he was forced to take a moment to regain his bearings before he swiftly clammored off. Though, his little mental reorientation, plus the fact he had to maneuver his mace so that it didn’t accidentally hook onto the bike as he dismounted, and the fact that the little tech Skylander naturally had more experience quickly getting off the thing, Tread Head was up and at the small, wooden door of the fort far before Wham-Shell was.

Grasping ahold of the handle (the door was scaled so that the handle could be reached by him in spite of his height for whatever reason), he attempted to fling the thing open in an instant, only to find, instead, that the door was firmly locked. Tread Head was just about ready to call out this information to his current partner, until, completely unbeknownst to him, the unexpected booming crash that was something heavy suddenly hitting the door instantaneously graced his ears.

Instinctively scrambling away from the scene as such, thus discovering that Wham-Shell had indeed made use of his mace to complete the, upon retrospective, relatively easy feat of breaking down the door, Tread Head didn’t really have the need in the end to actually say anything at all.

Swiftly getting back on his bike, for he knew that a battle at this point was pretty much inevitable, plus dragging the thing in by hand was rather inconvenient, Tread Head was thus into the fort and up the first set of stairs he took note of along with Wham-Shell in nothing short of a flash, ending up on the roof of the thing soon after completing the ascension. He was barely even able to get a fleeting glimpse of the internal layout of the fort's first floor as a result of this, but right now, that barely mattered. All that mattered was pinpointing the source of that iconic evil laugh, so that the two Skylanders would be able to track the midget villain down, and-

“Boo.”

Once again, for a diversely humongous number of reasons, not the least of which was their current internal shock, neither Skylander at hand knew any minute sliver about the whos, whats, wheres, whens, whys, or hows of the current circumstances, and yet, once again, they knew deep down that it barely even mattered anymore.

The decidedly NOT midget form that was the one taken on by the infamous portal master at the ending boss fight of Swap Force, a form only known as Super Evil Kaos, stood right there in front of them with a rather smug grin on his face, his arms o’ so casually folded over the edge of the fort, as both of the two, comparatively miniscule Skylanders merely stood there in silent disbelief.

Neither Wham-Shell nor Tread Head were really expecting anything in the way of an explanation anymore, partially because they weren’t really sure if they even wanted to have one in the first place, and seemingly, Super Evil Kaos recognized this; as all the crystalline, purple giant gave to the now significantly more composed and therefore battle ready Skylanders below, was a simple act that apparently, via Netflix subtitles, I learned is formally referred to as “blowing a raspberry”, before the fight began.

“Super Evil Kaos.” the announcer boomed from…somewhere around the area, as Wham-Shell gently leaned into the ear of his fellow bike-riding Skylander, in order to try and give him some tips.

“I’ve fought this form of Kaos before. I know how all his phases go. First, he’s going to slam down his feet in front of us and create shockwaves. We’ll have to destroy the crystals on his toenails in order to complete the phase. Then, after that, he-”

“Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait wait- hold your goddam horses right there, Wham-Shell!” Tread Head, in a decidedly uncharacteristic fashion, swore back to his teammate.

Wham-Shell was silent in an instant.

“Did you just say HIS FEET?”

Wham-Shell couldn’t help but grow a little embarrassed. “Err…well…umm…yes, you see…he…”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! SORRY SKY-LOSERS, NO TWENTY MINUTE LONG VIDEO FEATURING MY FEET FOR YOU THIS TIME!”

Neither Skylander was in any sort of position nor mental state to be able to respond.

“*Tsc* Just…just prepare to fight him, okay?” Wham-Shell finally concluded with a sigh whilst readying his mace for a strike.

Tread Head…would…have opened his mouth to respond. Would. If only the ground beneath them hadn’t vigorously rocked itself apart in a compounding multiplicity of furious, crackling vibrations as both of the Skylanders were instantly knocked to the floor.

“WHAT IN THE-” Wham-Shell cried out, as yet another bout of these shockwaves physically forced them to stay down whilst the foundations upon the fort rapidly began to fail.

Once again, although the length of time that was expected to happen between the event and its consequences was much, much longer than the amount of time said consequences actually took, the end result, just as always, ensured it barely mattered.

Buried deep underneath a giant heap of bricks and rubble, both fragile Skylanders lay still and limp within their fully, undeniably, unconsciousness, therefore prompting Super Evil Kaos to cheekily give a bit of a preemptive victory pump, before at last he crouched down, and thus, began to wait patiently for one of the two to wake up, in order to initiate stage two.

****

Tread Head gave many consecutive sputters and wheezes in an attempt to void all the dust from his lungs, before at last he felt himself able to breathe properly once more. Letting out a pained grunt as he slowly dragged himself off the floor, the little, bike riding tech Skylander wasn’t exactly sure what to expect upon groggily flickering open his eyes. Subconsciously, he was holding the expectation that Wham-Shell, the decidedly more experienced one between them, had managed to wake up first. That was why, precisely, it came as such a shock to the poor man when he inevitably realized that, in reality, the opposite of that was true.

“WHAM-SHELL!” he searingly screeched out, making a B-line over to the unconscious crustacean’s form.

Tread Head had indeed learned from his training as a Skylander how to check someone’s pulse, however due to Wham-Shell’s exoskeleton, this was almost instantly ruled out as a possibility of making sure he was okay.

“Oh by the love of Master Eon, THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!”

“Pray to your precious Master Eon all you want, you literal bean with legs…” a voice suddenly piped up, forcing the tech Skylander to freeze up all his movements. “...none of that will do anything to save you from your fate by my hands…”

Tread Head could practically feel the shivers as they sequentially rattled down his spine.

“Since when in the heck did Kaos actually learn to be intimidating?” he silently questioned to himself.

“...or, perhaps more accurately….” Super Evil Kaos towering above the poor man only continued on. “...my stomach.” he at last concluded with a crystalline grin and a swift pat over his midsection.

You could practically hear the one final ounce of composure that Tread Head had left inside of him crackling apart into particles just as fine as the sands beneath him as he practically leaped forth amongst the rubble.

“WHERE’S MY BIKE WHERE’S MY BIKE WHERE’S MY BIKE?” he frantically yet frivolously repeated to himself ad nauseum whilst he fiercely dug through the rubble.

“Oh…so that’s what you’re all riled up about right now, hmm?” Super Evil Kaos sneered in absolutely nothing but preemptive joy down at the struggling Skylander below. “Yes…your bike and ol’ Whammy’s mace is indeed the only chance you two have of making it out of here alive!”

Tread Head was barely even able to hear what the gigantic purple monster thundering above him was saying, nor did he really have it anywhere in him to care. His current state of fixation on attempting to find the weapons was just far too important to get distracted from at the moment. Rather unfortunately for the poor little tech Skylander, however, per Super Evil Kaos’ creepily increasing grin, that there mental state was not exactly destined to last for much longer.

“...oh, yes, yes! Where oh where in the world could those precious little objects be, hmmm?” Super Evil Kaos chortled heartily whilst Tread Head continued scrambling around down at the rubble. “Maybe, perhaps, HERE?”

It was only at that point in time, after the passing of many, many others, did Tread Head finally look up. And, upon at last doing so, once more froze on the spot.

“Wha-I…how did you-” was all he could muster to sputter out.

Super Evil Kaos silently swung in a slight, teasing manner, the two Skyladners’ weapons, right there above their tiny little heads.

“Heh. You want a chance to be able to defend yourself and your snoozing sleepyhead buddy over there, eh?” Super Evil Kaos chuckled out. “WELL TOO BAD FOR YOU! Aaaaaaaaaa…”

Swiftly unhinging his jaws from their current position of being locked in an evil grin, Super Evil Kaos’ slimy, dark purple tongue leisurely extended outward from the warm, sticky chamber that was his depthened maw, now prompt and at the ready to accept the two weapons upon its wide, squishy surface.

Before poor Tread Head even had the chance to say anything, Super Evil Kaos let go, and both his bike and Wham-Shell’s mace consequently splat down onto the great, thickened muscle, right before the thing popped itself back into resting position, deep within the maw. Super Evil Kaos maneuvered the objects around towards the entrance of his throat for a while, before at last, he teasingly tilted his head back, and, passing a glance down at Tread Head, swallowed.

Able as a result to view plain as day the, due to the head’s tilt, somewhat accentuated bulge that the weapons made in the giant man’s throat, Tread Head instinctually jostled with a shudder, for he knew with a near-certain confidence, that both he and the still unconscious Wham-Shell were all but destined to be next.

Super Evil Kaos promptly followed up this display with a smirk whilst admiring his victim’s terror, before a sudden echoing gurgle could be heard coming from his middle, seemingly due to the two weapons’ arrival. Rather than react with embarrassment from the suddenty of the action, however, he instead decided to give his stomach a couple of light pats, before cruelly throwing upon the poor tech Skylander below him a good, searing glare.

“...It’s almost as if it's just begging me for more…” Super Evil Kaos added onto the moment whilst he began to reach down, giving a saliva-soaked lick across his chops.

As it had been all but solidified within the poor man’s mind what his fate was to be at this point, Tread Head was not even able to resist as Super Evil Kaos’ gigantic, incoming hand confidently swooped in and snatched him all the way up, coming down with his other hand in order to get Wham-Shell but a few seconds later.

Tread Head’s breath, though it had already been rather short and ragged up until this moment, began in an unexpectedly erratic manner to grow into that of a rather strained pant, as he was at last placed face-to-face with the monstrous portal master who was destined to consume him whole.

Super Evil Kaos simply took a few moments to merely revel in the circumstances, before at last, it became time for the main show to commence.

First, the humongous evilized man moved his miniscule prey downwards, before he slowly squished the tiny Skylander into the thin layer of his body that lay in between the outside world, and his gurgling stomach within. Tread Head knew for a fact that pretty soon, he and Wham-Shell were indeed going to breach this barrier. At this point, it was only a matter of time.

Sensing that he had indeed shut down his still conscious prey’s being down to a degree where gulping him down wouldn’t be a significant issue, Super Evil Kaos at last felt satisfied. Bringing the tech Skylander back up to his face as such, the grotesque, crystalline portal master proceeded to say nothing, as he once again stuck out the tip of his tongue from between his lips, made a little fart sound with it, and then extended it just a little so he may give poor Tread Head a preparatory lick across his body.

Sputtering and coughing just a little as he did what little he could to try and shake all the saliva from his form, Tread Head was soon enough graced full force with the reality that, it didn’t matter how hard he shook, he was still going to end up positively smothered in the stuff when all was said and done.

This, of course, was only the case, simply because it was finally time, in the mind of Super Evil Kaos, to fully unveil his maw.

The slick, cavernous, dark purple depths the poor little tech Skylander viewed before him constantly heaved upon him front after front of damp, heated air, thus reminding him once more of how slimy he was going to get.

Super Evil Kaos knew very, very well just how paralyzed his singular conscious prey was for the moment being. His body positively flooding with joy knowing he quite literally possessed a life in his hands, a pleased shiver proceeded to casually tingle its way down the center of the evil man’s spine. Eventually, upon a long, long wait of practically uncountable moments, Super Evil Kaos backed the poor Skylander, as well as his unconscious ally, a little ways away from his maw, before, in nothing but a quick flinging motion and a simultaneous release of grip, both of them were quite literally flung all the way inside, one slightly after the other, Tread Head naturally coming in first as, right behind the arrival of his poor crustaceous friend, Super Evil Kaos’ jaws came began to come crashing down around them. Snapping his maw firmly shut with a bit of a reverberating Echo, now at last, for all intents and purposes, it was all over. There was absolutely zero method that either Skylander still had available to them that would allow them to successfully escape. Now, it was all in the hands of Super Evil Kaos.

Super Evil Kaos gently lifted up his tongue. Raising the hot, cushiony muscle almost to the roof of his maw, Tread Head was thus forced to lie down on it in order to not scrape his head against the rough ridges up there. Folding the downwards sloping portion of his tongue upwards, thus curling back the entire muscle towards his gullet whilst wrapping up the tech Skylander and his unconscious water elemental friend, Super Evil Kaos slowly squished the heavy layers of force that was the longingly salivating tongue upon his victims’ beings, holding their bodies downwards as he sensually swished the folded muscle between his cheeks.

A little bit of rouge drool trailed down the man’s chin as he continued on with this motion, the squishy, flexible tip of the tongue dragging itself back and forth across the unresisting Skyladnders’ bodies, swirling itself around within their flavors. Naturally, being a crab, Wham-Shell tasted like fresh, out-of-the-ocean seafood, his rough, hardened exoskeleton positively glistening from just how many times Super Evil Kaos had dragged the tip of his tongue around its surface.

Tread Head on the other hand, was, in fact, someone who’s attack style left him regularly covered in dust, muck, and other kinds of filth. And yet, seemingly by some unspoken miracle, he instead emulated the rather peculiar flavor of…out of every conceivable food in the world…cheesecake. Super Evil Kaos had absolutely no idea why this was the case, but nonetheless, it barely even mattered at this point.

Of course, cheesecake and seafood didn’t exactly go together very well, so Super Evil Kaos simply ended up taking many many minutes of his own precious time in thoroughly examining each Skylander individually, knowing quite well that neither had it anywhere within them to be able to resist.

After having taken all the necessary time in order to enjoy his food, however, Super Evil Kaos at last knew it was time to escort them on down to his stomach, and as a result, carefully returned his tongue back to its resting position.

Lifting up the purple muscle once more, though this time, sloping the back portion of the muscle downwards, Wham-Shell and Tread Head were thus forced to slide down the slippery, wet surface, whilst the as of yet unnoted plump, dangling uvula began gently swaying above their two heads.

Now, having come from a small, relatively secluded village in the dizzying dunes, Tread Head wasn’t exactly an expert, per say, on anatomical structures, much less any of their functions. However, upon taking note of the floppy, wide sack of dark purple flesh leisurely hanging above him, something…strange…started happening within his mind. Of course, Tread Head couldn’t exactly tell you why, exactly, his brain suddenly perked right back up into survival mode after probably more than five minutes of being shut down, but regardless, the result was all the same. Super Evil Kaos was expecting to feel the two round-ish bodies of the ultimately doomed Skylanders fitting cleanly into his upper esophageal sphincter, finally at the ready for the swallow. Instead, however, what the evilized portal master got, was a sudden lurch forwards as was dictated by his subconscious, whilst he fiercely suppressed a powerful gag.

Firmly grasping onto one of Wham-Shell’s claws with one hand, and wrapping the other all the way around the uvula, Tread Head hung silently, the only noise escaping from his throat consisting of his rather erratic gasping, therefore locking him out of the ability to speak, whilst his body subsequently hyper fixated in on but the single most intense game of keping grip the little tech Skylander had ever experienced in all of his years of fighting. He had never ever been more thankful in his life that he wore gloves.

Super Evil Kaos, able to feel in great detail each and every minute swing that the dangling appendage took as his only conscious prey desperately clung on, viciously gnashed his teeth as he allowed a low growl to escape up from his throat. The furious cry of rage boomed itself around the enclosed space of the maw as Tread Head risked a glance downwards. He was able to take a glimpse as such into the giant portal master’s throat, which was also dark purple in color, praying relentlessly that someway, somehow ANYHOW, he and Wham-Shell were to make it out of his situation alive.

Swallowing hard in order to try and get the little tech Skylander to let go of his uvula, Super Evil Kaos could feel the appendage stretching downwards as his tiny prey only continued to maintain his grasp. Swallowing once again, Super Evil Kaos could feel the rather strained sack of flesh stretching out as Tread Head’s arm consequently slid downwards, locking itself around the rounded bit at the bottom, as poor, poor Wham-Shell was mere centimeters away from reaching the gullet, causing his currently conscious partner to start positively hyperventilating as he began losing his hold on both his fellow Skylander and the uvula.

Super Evil Kaos could feel the crab’s claw gently scraping the muscles around his gullet, thus telling him that he was only one more gulp away from the ultimate, certain victory that he so viciously craved.

Placing a couple of fingers against his throat as he prepared himself to swallow once again, Super Evil Kaos’s epiglottis covered the entrance to his windpipe as, at last, his uvula was flung all the way back up into its natural position, and a great, squishy bulge proceeded to form itself in his throat. Swiftly swallowing one final time just to ensure that both of his prey were, indeed, trapped helplessly inside of his esophagus, Super Evil Kaos was thus soon able to confirm that the two Skylanders were there, not the least of which was because of Tread Head’s incessant, yet in the end futile resistance that was him shoving and punching against the squelching walls of the throat.

The poor man on the inside, now that he had lost his grip on the uvula, was rapidly losing his grip on reality, and vainly struggled against the constant downward pulses around him as a result whilst the slight weight of Super Evil Kaos’ fingers pushed down onto him from the outside. The sleek, tight muscle walls shoved in and out in an almost rhythmic pattern as, at last, he was able to pick up the faint pounding emulating from within Kaos’ heart.

Now that both of his prey had disappeared behind his collarbone, Super Evil Kaos proceeded to heave forth one gigantic sigh, before taking a second to glance down at the pile of rubble beneath him. Eventually deciding to heap together a pile that he could lay his back against, the humongous purple villain proceeded to do just that, casually ploping himself down against the grainy, desert floor once he was done, whilst placing a hand against his midsection.

Cris-crossing his legs over each other and setting them against the sands whilst his currently uncovered feet lay open and free against the scorching desert atmosphere, Super Evil Kaos couldn’t help but start back up a searing, victorious bout of his iconic evil laughter.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

He positively howled out into the dunes as the maniacally echoing screeches of his own final victoriousness were positively overshadowed back on the inside with the melodic backup of rumbling gurgles and growls that told Tread Head he was finally reaching the end.

In spite of his efforts to cling himself onto the muscle rim around the lower esophageal sphincter as said structure effortlessly squeezed him out into the awaiting chamber below, Tread Head was indeed able to pick up the inevitable splash that sloshed all around his being as he finally landed in the stomach.

The poor little Tech Skylander had lost so much of his sanity at this point that he was barely even able to recognize the shifting, dark purple walls casually squeezing in around him as the gastric acids around him began to sizzle at his clothes.

Super Evil Kaos on the outside was able to feel the organ churning and glorping around as he hazily pat over his guts in his current state of euphoria. Rubbing his hand all the way around the sloshy section of his body, he could tell that the stomach walls were just about right up to his prey at this point, leaving him able as such to feel the relentless resistance of mainly squirming and shoving that Tread Head was exuding upon him.

The poor Tech Skylander on the inside was only able to make out a few things around him by this stage. The still unconscious body of Wham-Shell, the bubbling acid pool, the thick, goopy walls squeezing in closer around him, Wham-Shell’s mace, and-wait a second…the mace? Tread Head’s eyes immediately diverted downwards, almost immediately causing him to suddenly remember the rather important detail that their weapons were, in fact, down here, too. Suddenly feeling just a fleeting flicker of what could barely be described as hope sparking itself in his chest, the tiny man on the inside was just about to reach forwards and grab hold of the mace, before all of a sudden, seemingly completely out of the blue, the lower esophageal sphincter opened itself back up, snatching ahold of poor Tread Head’s attention for just long enough to deny him escape once more, as a considerable front of air suddenly breezed past.

Super Evil Kaos on the outside was indeed able to feel the objects rising back up in his throat, a feeling which ultimately culminated in a deep, echoing belch which positively chimed its booming melody out across the sky. As the objects had landed right next to his right thigh, Super Evil Kaos was able to casually reach over and grasp onto the mace, placing one hand behind his head before he made use of the thing in order to cheekily pick at his teeth. Eventually just flinging the thing off to the side, Super Evil Kaos now knew for certain that there was absolutely nothing that poor little Tread Head could do in order to save his and Wham-Shell’s lives. As a result, he once again decided to break the formerly held silence by snorting an exceedingly teasing:

“HEH, YOU SKY-LOSERS ARE A REAL PAIN TO DIGEST!” out at the quivering Tread Head within, whilst giving a couple pokes at his belly. Proceeding to just place both hands behind his back and allow his stomach to do the rest, Super Evil Kaos was, at this point, excessively well prepared to just sit back, relax, and enjoy the results of his victory.

However, as was the reason he wasn’t able to feel Tread Head struggling against his stomach walls anymore, not as though that detail currently mattered to him, deep down within the dark, cavernous mind inside of the dark purple, cavernous guts inside of the equally dark purple man who had swallowed him whole, the poor little tech Skylander that was only known as Tread Head, had finally reached an epiphany. He did not know how to fight without his bike, nor did he have access to Wham-Shell’s mace. He bore no claws, spikes, or any other biological weaponry that could allow him to escape. He was not physically strong enough to be able to punch his way out. It was true. Tread Head was, indeed, completely and utterly lacking on every single one of those listed fronts, and yet, in direct spite of all that, he still knew, as a simple matter of fact, that he still had one option left.

At first, Super Evil Kaos was only able to feel a slight pain inside of his guts, causing him to swiftly sit up. Before the confused, crystalline portal master could even muster out an “Eh?”, however, seemingly instantaneously, he had vomited all the way up, straight onto the now darkly stained desert grounds, a deathly amount of blood.

Tread Head viciously sank his teeth all the way into the walls of the stomach. He knew quite well that they were, indeed, not specialized to be able to cut and tear through flesh, and yet, despite that fact, they still completed the job just as well. Savagely tearing off yet another chunk of flesh, even more blood proceeded to gush its way into the wound as the chamber painfully growled.

Super Evil Kaos had fallen over onto his front at this point, flailing around in agony and clutching his stomach in positively tormenting pain. Tread Head was completely unable to make out any of the poor portal master’s screams, however, as both the world around his being and the world inside his brain swiftly faded to black as the color drained from his eyes. Subsequently crashing down right next to his fellow, highly respected Skylander Wham-Shell, Super Evil Kaos’ stomach contracted once more, and, riding along with the blood, both unconscious Skylanders were finally set free.

[kamreadsandrecs]

Title: Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation (Mo Dao Zu Shi) Vol. 3 Author: Mo Xiang Tong Xiu Genre/s: danmei, xianxia, historical, fantasy, mystery, queer romance, romance Content/Trigger Warnings: death, violence, body horror, emotional abuse, death of parents, forced marriage, arranged marriage Summary (from publisher website): The bloody war against the Wen Clan once led Wei Wuxian to seek power in demonic cultivation, and the dark acts he committed drove a wedge between him and Lan Wangji. Now, those old sins come back to haunt him as his reincarnated identity is revealed to the cultivation world. But even as the other clans call for Wei Wuxian’s death, Lan Wangji stands by him, making Wei Wuxian realize what he took for disapproval in the past might have been a much deeper emotion. Buy Here: https://sevenseasentertainment.com/books/grandmaster-of-demonic-cultivation-mo-dao-zu-shi-novel-vol-3/ Spoiler-Free Review: BOY WAS THIS A READ! So the previous volumes have had a tendency to jump between the past and present quite easily and casually (which, kudos to the translators, they were able to handle quite deftly, and kudos too to the author for managing to make things coherent despite the frequent jumps between timelines) but this volume DEFINITELY focuses more on the past than the last two volumes, with huge swathes of the volume being devoted to moments pre-, during, and post-Sunshot Campaign. The emphasis is mostly on Wei Wuxian’s relationship with his adopted siblings Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, which is complicated by the relationship between his adopted father Jiang Fengmian and his wife Madam Yu. It’s a very sad, tragic story that I won’t elaborate on due to spoilers, but I’ve been informed that if I feel the need to bawl my eyes out, I should watch how the drama adaptation of this series portrays certain specific events in this volume. Given how I feel about those events WITHOUT having seen the drama version yet, I can only imagine just how heartwrenching they’d be when acted out. Speaking of drama (of a different sort), this volume also REALLY expands on the romantic connection between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji - mostly by playing up the fact that Lan Wangji is a VERY poor communicator (his own brother admits to this!) and Wei Wuxian is SO VERY BAD at reading the room. I joked with my friend that the real heroes here are the people around them who have to watch their romance (such as it is) unfold - mostly Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng, who have front-row seats to the two-person circus that their siblings are in. But that being said, my friend and I also got to discussing a crucial theme that runs throughout the course of the series, but which really gets highlighted here: the idea of a “right” path versus a “wrong” or “deviant” path. This is often associated with cultivation in the series (with most people saying Wei Wuxian’s cultivation is “demonic” and therefore “wrong”), but also applies to how one lives one’s life in general. Said friend remarked that this was associated with Confucian ideals and values, with the “right” path aligning with those values and ideals, and “wrong” paths being anything that didn’t align with those ideals and values. I don’t think I can speak to how true or accurate this is, given how I have minimal cultural connection to the Filipino-Chinese community and Chinese culture as a whole, but given a quick (and likely woefully insufficient) google research spree, I think this aligns quite well with what I’ve read so far. This aligns very well with another thing she pointed out: how we, as westernized readers, tend to view Wei Wuxian in a positive light, thinking his tendency to innovate is something laudable. This runs contrary with the Lans’ point of view, and the point of view of many of the cultivators in this series: innovation is questionable at best, and dangerous at worst. While someone with a more westernized perspective would view Wei Wuxian as a positive figure, others with less western views might see him as heroic, but tragic: an example of what happens when someone takes power by any means possible, no matter the cost. With this in mind it’s becoming easy to see why Wei Wuxian’s trajectory around the time of the Sunshot Campaign and beyond is one of meteoric heights, followed by a sharp and catastrophic fall: a fall which is considered entirely justified, if one chooses to see it from a certain perspective. Still, despite this framing, the author does not always frame adherence to tradition as a positive thing, especially in interpersonal relationships. Adherence to tradition, after all, is what led to the unhappy marriages portrayed in this volume (including one I didn’t expect). Given that the romance between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji doesn’t quite adhere to tradition, does that mean they stand a better chance at happiness? Gonna have to read the rest of this series to find out I guess - and I am honestly looking forward to that. Rating: five lotus blossoms (for Reasons) Thoughts (spoilers under the cut):

- While I was messaging my friend she commented how the Jiangs had such a tragic marriage, and how it did an awful number on Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. I later remarked how the Lans probably had a better marriage, given how Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji turned out - and my friend, bless her, DID NOT tell me the awful awful truth until I got to it. Not gonna explain any  further because it is GENUINELY WTF, but that whole thing has convinced me that there are NO happy marriages in this series. AT ALL.