#and that's not even the first or only time i've been functionally tortured almost to death by doctors and nurses!!!! LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[cobra-creampuff]

i have a pulmonary functioning test at ass o'clock tomorrow morning, which i'm sure will be fine as far as the test goes but also doctors are basically just cops who don't need guns to kill people because their egos are so big they can do the job with that alone To Me lmao, so i'm deeply dreading it just because if they don't find the one (1) specific thing they're looking for they will simply decide it's nothing and i'll be stuck with an incredibly common, easy to diagnose, and completely curable with a single procedure disease presenting with literally textbook symptoms for fourteen fucking years. AGAIN. lol.

[theconstellationprincess]

so i've gone and gotten myself attached to a character from a game I've never played so heres some words about Astarion from Baldurs Gate 3

-

He is. Baby. Just absolute, little guy. You'd never know it, looking at him. Yeah he can be fussy, but he's just another traveler, someone without a place to head back too, and a little bit off. No reason to suspect anything at all.

Except... Except. Well. He was only 39 when he turned, he was a child. And he's 239 now, which is still young compared to the average Elf life span. And it's not like he was gaining survival skills or learning to be a functional member of society during his 200 years of a vampire, in fact he was being traumatized and tortured.

Oh yes he has a silver tongue, and manipulation skills, and a rather impressive ability to slip away from himself and still function, but all of that was dependent on his being able to speak. And sometimes. Sometimes, he finds himself as tongue tied and quiet as he was during the earlier times he spent with Cazador. When things were... worse. When most of his punishments involved, at the very least, his voice being taken. He was... smaller. Younger, but not really. Just less able to deal with things. It was an annoyance, and inconvenience, but one he learned to deal with the longer he spent with Cazador.

Then he got his lovely tadpole and everything changed. He was around people, people who behaved like people and not... well he doesn't want to say monsters. Point is, they weren't like his Master. And he was... well not safe. But safer-ish. Unfortunately, that nasty little smallness stuck around. He almost thought he'd left it behind the same way he left Cazador, for it hadn't reared it's head for quite some time during their adventures. And then there was a day that was just Bad.

The Shadowlands were not great to deal with in the first place, he was so very hungry, having grown spoiled while drinking from wild boars and rabbits. But on this day, his other companions seemed to share in his bad mood, but were far less subtle about it than he. There were several cruel words shared between the group, barbs swapped and refuted, and of course they get attacked and several of them get injured, and when they settle at camp the mood is just as foul as it had been earlier.

And Astarion finds himself unsure. He had been feeling ill, between starvation and several memories popping up at random points, triggered by the cruel sentences swapped between the others. He felt off-kilter. He retired early, waiting until he heard everyone's hearts and lungs settle into now familiar rhythms. He crept out of his tent and into the surrounding area. He listened, but found he could hear very few things over the sound of his own thoughts. He swallowed, feeling tears well up in his eyes, without his permission. He really didn't need the extra fluid loss.

He drops to the ground, pushing himself against a tree, and stopping his breathing. He didn't need to at all, but the others would likely find him even stranger if he didn't. Right now it was noise, and he needed to be quiet. Quiet and good.

He sat there for a long time. Waiting for the awful smallness to fade away. But it stayed. Eventually he had to make his way back to camp, and found his limbs uncooperative. He tripped a few times. It reminded him of shortly after he came out of the tomb.

Ah. Perhaps that is what his body is recalling? How annoying.

Wyll was sitting by the fire when Astarion finally stumbled his way back into camp. He looked over, surprised. "Astarion," He greeted quietly. "Are you quite alright?" Astarion swallowed around his tongue and nodded. Wyll narrowed his eyes. Crap. He would really love his silver tongue right about now.

"Mm-hmm," Astarion hummed. He opened his mouth to continue but quickly closed it. Curse this stupid affliction.

"Are you becoming ill?" Wyll asked, but there was suspicion in his voice. Astarion shook his head, and then nodded a second later. He settled on a final shrug. "Say something."

"Something," Astarion quickly said, complying. His voice was hoarse. He tensed in preparation for a punishment before he could stop himself. Wyll was not Cazador, far from him.

Wyll was looking at him, concerned. Astarion wanted to look annoyed, but his brain was having a fun time pasting Cazadors face onto Wylls, so he kept himself pleasantly neutral. Astarion looked towards his tent, perhaps he could get there and escape the conversation Wyll seemed eager to have. "Don't you dare," Wyll said, narrowing his eyes. "Come over here, what's gotten into you?" Astarion was quick to follow the orders yet again, hating himself as he sat next to Wyll. Why was his stupid body like this?

"Tell me what's wrong, please?"

"I am not myself, M-" Astarion just barely managed to cut himself off and save him from more embarrassment.

"Why?"

"I am afflicted with an awful head condition that convinces my brain and body to forcibly behave as if it's the past."

"Ah," Wyll said midly. "Regression. How interesting, I never would have assumed you the type."

Regression. That was a word unfamiliar to him, at least in this context. How fascinating, he'd have to find out more after he escaped this awful conversation.

[pigeonwhumps]

The Little Android

Everything taglist: @painful-pooch @i-eat-worlds @a-funeral-romance @rainydaywhump

My entry for the Once Upon a Blade anthology by @thewhumpyprintingpress (which is really good btw, you should buy it if you can) which I've been meaning to post for months.

An android whump retelling of The Little Matchgirl by Hans Christian Anderson.

1.2k

CWs: android whump, torture, dehumanisation, slavery, denial of basic needs, threats of death, implied major character death

The android sits down against the wall of a crowded metal walkway, box of batteries in its hand. One arm is made up of loose wires and artificial nerve endings left when the attachment was ripped from its socket, and as they brush against the wall they send a jolt of pain through its systems, almost causing it to drop the box. If only its owner had deactivated its pain circuits after the experiment was completed, but he thought they would be useful to control it. And as a synthetic life form, it does not have the right to deactivate them itself.

It needs to sell these batteries. Oh, they look so tempting, they could power it for the day it’s sure, it would have constant heating and a properly working voice and its power wouldn’t flicker out so often. But it’ll get credits if it sells them, and it’s therefore less likely to end up on the scrap heap.

It tries for eight point seven hours, but it doesn’t make a single credit. Passers-by barely give it a second glance. If it’s lucky. Some step around it with a wide berth, giving it dirty looks and whispering behind their hands (sometimes not even whispering, it doesn’t matter, it’s not a human after all). A few teenagers make a game of tugging at its exposed nerve endings to see who can make it scream the loudest, and nobody stops them, they just look annoyed at the noise. It’s moved on by security more than once.

Finally the lights in the station switch to night mode, dimming and turning slightly orange, reducing the blue light. Usually the android would adjust its vision to compensate so it could keep working with ease but that function no longer works.

The place it was last moved along to, where it is now, gets almost no night traffic. There’re no shops or clubs or living hubs, there’s no reason to come here unless you’re maintenance staff, who can’t, or won’t, buy from it anyway. There’s no point staying.

Except if it goes back to the shop with no credits again, it will be deemed useless and stripped for parts. Maybe even without its pain circuits being deactivated first.

Its power flickers out for a few seconds. When it restarts, the android is on the floor. It doesn’t know how long it was out, which is unnerving but common recently.

Maybe just a little boost of battery power. Just to keep it going.

It chooses a battery, unwraps it with stiff, creaky fingers, and plugs it into a port on its side.

The power zaps around its body and it feels a simulation of warmth for the first time in so long. It’s almost comfortable.

In the distance, it sees its makers’ workshop. They’re laughing and joking together as they start up the charger, preparing to test parts that the android knows are custom-made. It used to help with the more dangerous parts of the job, before they ran out of money and were forced to sell it.

It feels so warm and cosy, and as the light envelopes it, it opens its mouth to speak.

The light disappears. The warmth disappears. The android tries to hang on but it must have had a power surge in its decision-making module.

It feels even colder now. Any warmth is gone, any semblance of care from someone else. What does it have in its life, really? No-one does anything except order it around and stimulate its pain circuits. Nobody even interferes when the pain is malicious. Not anymore.

It takes out another battery. If it’s going to be scrapped anyway it might as well make it worth it.

As soon as it’s plugged in, the station disappears. It’s inside a charging station, one of the ones for VIPs and their androids. It had a job cleaning these, once. Mobile charging packs, as much premium oil as the android can drink, oiled joints, comfortable places to stand or sit… it has dreamed about them, sometimes. It was allowed to drink the last dregs of oil and it really was premium.

This one is busy with humans in fancy clothes and the latest models, so much more advanced than itself. No-one is paying attention to the android, and it walks through the central aisle, approaching a serving station. It reaches out a hand for an oil can, wires jittering in anticipation at the taste, the feel of its body afterwards—

The illusion fades.

The android is left cold and alone on the floor of the space station. There’s not much use for softness for androids but oh, how it wishes. It’s been so long since it had oil, only getting just enough lubrication to stop it from rusting entirely. It doesn’t deserve anything more until it starts to be useful. But it won’t be, and it just feels empty.

It’s startled out of its reverie by a beep beep beep of warning. Its power is depleting even faster than normal. If it doesn’t get to a charging point soon it’ll power down for good.

Surprisingly, the android finds itself not caring overly much anymore. What does it have to go back to, after all?

The android plugs in another battery.

It’s on a starship deck in night mode. The observation deck. It’s always wished to be stationed on one of these. It’s charging against a wall, sitting down, and it can see the stars.

They’re bright spots against the darkness, mostly, but in the distance it can see nebulas, colourful clouds of dust and stars. That’s when it realises its vision is fixed. It can see properly, for the first time is years. Who bothered to fix that?

Then reality hits it. Nobody did. The android here, the one with the fixed vision and someone who cares and such a good posting, it doesn’t exist. This is a dream. An illusion. Something it’ll never get.

It touches its reflection in the glass, feeling a pang from somewhere inside that shouldn’t exist. It’s been fixed, like a patchwork, different colours and textures of paintwork, but it’s more than it will ever really have, more than it deserves. Engine oil leaks slightly from the edges of its vision sensors. Good quality oil too. It really is getting the best on this dreamship.

It can feel itself fading. Its consciousness is fading. And it’s nowhere near a power socket really, so it’ll deactivate permanently this time.

But it doesn’t have anything to lose. There’s no-one who cares, no-one who won’t take it apart for scrap as soon as it returns with no credits and barely any batteries. No-one will mourn it if it stays here. Someone will take the batteries and someone will take its parts and they’ll sell both but they won’t care. What’s the point?

The android sinks back down, leaning back against its comfortable charging wall. It closes its eyes for the last time to an exploding supernova.

The science doesn’t really make sense. But it’s far too tired to care.

[tongues--and--teeth]

Fuck i fucking love your art smmmm

Berserk boi

QUICK GIVE ME ALL YOUR BERSERK CACAOO HCSSS

Oh my god! Thank you so much! This totally made my day <33333

I'm so sorry this took so long, I've been really busy lately :(

(TW for gore mention)

So actually I headcanon that his berserk form is connected to his soul jam. Kind of like a little side effect. Y'know what use is a sword if not to harm others? If not to shed blood? (and also this sword hurts its owner too!) and it's the soul jam of resolution which is also dictionary definition, literally a firm decision that you're unwavering in. If Dark Cacao ever goes back on his decision to take the sword, guess what! He goes berserk until it consumes all of his life force and kills him. woo. 

He used to be able to control the berserk form a little, being able to turn partially into it to fight and stuff. He did lose the power to do so as he got older. Turning into his half-form and full form basically torturing him every time he tried to use it. It also completely removes pretty much all mental capacity for intelligent thought, so he can't use it in a "productive" way even if he wanted to. Basically just blind destruction with no distinction between friend or foe. 

(^that's actually the concept for the drawing you saw)

Personally, I have his berserk form more or less as kind of an allegory for illness, a physical manifestation of internal pain. He was making it a fuel to keep going instead of actually confronting the “bad stuff” that happened. He was taking how it hurt him and using that to keep going, instead of confronting it head-on and getting it to stop hurting him. Eventually, he couldn't keep doing this, it was destroying him and he was losing control. So now, he couldn’t use it for anything, aka, his pain isn't useful anymore. Anyway, he does still transform into his berserk form (albeit unintentionally) but only during times of extreme stress and triggers like certain sounds, textures, and tastes. It's also triggered through more physical means, if he stands too long his legs start turning to smoke, if he fights too long his eyes glow white, it's torture every time. In very special cases (Pomegranate Cookie) he goes full berserk, it usually takes him out for weeks, unable to do much, hardly able to take care of himself, much less able to make himself useful as a king or as a warrior.

Actually, after he stopped going berserk back in book 14, I think he was cut open pretty much everywhere underneath his armor. His guts were spilling out, and were barely contained by his armor. It basically cut him almost completely in half. He still managed to fight afterwards, obviously at great personal cost, but he was still able to fight. Weeks after, he could barely move, he was stuck in bed, and even small things like sitting up were a huge struggle. The only reason he's not dead is because of his soul jam, the same reason he was cursed in the first place. His immortality at the cost of eternal suffering and the like.

After book 14, he forces enough energy to attend the council of heroes (AKA Cookie Odyssey chapter 1) but the smallest things keep setting him off, turning him slightly berserk every time. He is spending every second he can lying down in his tent. It prevents his wounds from healing, and it also keeps him from thinking clearly. When he tried killing Clotted Cream the, admittedly very little, healing that was done was immediately reversed. He ended up barely functioning, with the only reason he was able to continue with the council was because Hollyberry noticed him limping and had Pure Vanilla heal him. Which only did so much, because it’s…A curse that's both caused by and stopped by his immortality, and you can't just fix that without probably killing him instantly. So, he doesn’t have a permanent solution, and he’s stuck with this until the end of time.

Thank you again for the ask. It was really fun to do! Sorry again for taking so long to finish it :(

[whumpbug]

Night, armor, road and canvas for Gene and Cassidy?

HI ANON! i've been hoping someone would ask night, i love talking about Sleepy characters. ONTO THE POST!

✮⋆˙

night: what does your oc wear to sleep?

gene:

gene is a simple man. whenever the weather permits, he sleeps in nothing but his underwear. he has been doing this since he was a child and even he doesn't know why. he just likes the feeling of being Free. its kind of ridiculous to think about though, because he's this big bad deputy that sleeps practically naked.

when it's too cold, he wears a typical union suit though he hates it. he just hates sleeping and feeling Constrained

cassidy:

he usually just sleeps in his day clothes if i'm being totally honest. he grew up moving from place to place with montana mostly, so he didn't have the oppurtunity to get too settled or comfortable . he slept when he could where he could, comfort was an afterthought

when he knows he'll be staying in a place for a little longer, his pajamas usually consist of a union suit or, if he's feeling really fancy, a nightshirt and linen pants!

armor: what kind of armor does your oc wear?

neither of them really wear armor only because it wasn't a common practice for people in the old west-- there really wasn't a need to. the closest thing i think they have to armor is the various sun protection they had!

gene wears a hat whenever he's riding in the sun and almost always wears long sleeves to prevent sunburns. he still somehow gets them.

cassidy almost always has a bandana around his neck (or face when hes robbing places) and, of course, his pinch-front hat.

wear spf folks!

road: what does your oc wear while traveling?

gene:

when gene does travel, he usually has very little time to prepare because its most likely due to some chase or unfortunate circumstances. HOWEVER when he is able to plan it, it depends on how he's traveling

on a train, he wears comfortable clothes and usually has his luggage right next to him, pretty normal. but whenever he's on a train he ALWAYS has his revolver on him. always. train trauma and all that. he gets away with it because he's the deputy

if he's traveling in the wilderness, he goes back to his Farm Boy roots and wears worn working jeans and a button down with a jacket he can layer if he really needs to

cassidy:

his entire life is just traveling so he's learned to pretty much pack everything he owns into satchels and saddle bags at the drop of a hat.

the supplies he lugs everywhere are his satchel that has some clothes, provisions, weapons etc, and his bedroll incase he needs to sleep quickly somewhere. he takes care of his supplies very well because. well. it's not exactly ideal to have a tent break in the middle of a rainstorm or have your gun jam while in a shootout. he takes care of his stuff so he can have them functional incase of an emergency or Situation

canvas: does your oc have any scars, piercings, tattoos, or other markings?

(mostly going to focus on scars because piercings and tattoos didn't really exist back then)

gene:

gene doesn't really have any significant scars except for the one on his wrist i mentioned in a previous post and some other miscellaneous scars from his childhood.

he has one on his eyebrow from when he started learning to ride horses at age 10. the first horse he ever rode was his father's stallion called Ol' Mac and this horse was NOTORIOUSLY ill-tempered but clint figured if gene could ride Ol' Mac, he could ride any horse. unfortunately, there was still a learning curve and gene was aggresively bucked off and scraped his brow on a jagged fence post

he also has a few bullet-graze wounds. not necessarily bullet wounds but where the bullet just grazed his arm or leg.

cassidy:

oh boy. this man is a mosaic of scars. fic coming soon (possibly).

cw: mentions of child abuse and also being tortured/held hostage

i'm gonna go over some of his main ones but know that there are many from just. the amount of Situations this guy has gone through.

his most noticable and prominent scar is the one on his mouth. this was given to him by montana during a particularly harsh fight-- it was one the very few times montana pulled an actual weapon on him.

he also has several long, jagged scars across his back (i didn't know how to draw them when i drew that picture of him and gene </3) and those are from when he was captured by o'malley's boys, the rival gang to montana's. they wanted information, and, well, figured a good way to go about that was whipping the kid. even montana's heart broke a little when they found him. he slept on his stomach for weeks after that.

he also has a pretty nasty bullet wound scar in his left thigh from a shootout. that one was more recent, about 2 years ago and the thing still hurts him sometimes.

those are some of the most prominent ones! but remember, he has em all over. his body tells a STORY. and he hates almost all of his scars too tbh. he thinks they're ugly and are reminders of his weakness. (shhh that will be resolved soon.)

✮⋆˙

THANK U FOR THE QUESTIONS ANON! i hope you enjoy the answers!!

[seerofmike]

Mike's Media Medley--Jan 2025

this one should be quick and easy...because february will NOT be quick and easy for me, as i plan to watch all the oscar nominees (except emilia perez lmfao) this month + some other new movies that have come out like Companion and Love Hurts. i've got a free ticket as part of my movie rewards so im gonna take one for the team and see Heart Eyes or Brave New World when it comes, whichever one looks worse, because i like to torture myself

but enough about february--what did i watch/play for the very first time this january 2025?

Movies-- The Substance (2024), One of them Days (2025)

Games-- Marvel's Spider-Man Remastered (2022), Ballionaire (2024)

One of them Days (2025)

I LOVE YOU KEKE PALMER

just. some good straight up fun. some of the humor wasn't for me (particularly a scene involving lots of blood i hate anything to do with IVs) but for every joke that did not work for me there were 2 more that did. its honestly kind of hard to review it because its just straight up a lot of fun and i dont wanna spoil the gags

that being said....

I FEEL LIKE THE MOVIE COULDVE GONE HARDER !!! i LOVE absurdist comedies and this movie HAS absurdist comedy like the villain is named smth like. Big Booty Bully Bitch Berneice. there is a loaning agency that hunts people who default on their loans for sport. theres some wacky stuff that happens in here but as a lover of movies like bottoms and scott pilgrim i wish it had gone a teensy bit harder on the absurdism because sometimes it almost felt out of place whenever it did happen becuz the rest of the movie isnt as absurdist

also sza did good but her character was soooo in the wrong and it annoyed me a bit but otherwise. solid good time.

75/100

The Substance (2024)

so i have this weird thing where i fucking loved the substance but also i had to cover my eyes for 25% of the movie lmfao

ignoring what i said abt the IVs earlier (idk veins just bother me) im usually prettyyyyy good at handling gore . or so i thought. i made the mistake of eating while watching this movie and i thought i was gonna be sick and honestly the stuff that did me worse wasnt even the hardcore gore the fucking stabilizer stuff got me the most 🤮

GROSSNESS aside. this movie had shit to say and it did so without any pussyfooting about it and honestly i appreciate that. and even more than that i appreciate the way this movie was MADE. it had style, so many shots / scenes in this movie were clearly inspired by other movies like the Shining and the soundtrack was going hard and the COLOR GRADING rahhhhhhhhhhh i kind of wish i saved watching this for next month because i was gonna rank all my best picture noms but i cant do that with the substance rn since i have seen none of the others (except wicked) but man. i already kind of hopes it wins. we need more of this kind of angry almost borderline unappealing to mainstream audiences film making.

i have NOT been unable to stop thinking abt it. monstro elisa sue deserved everything.

90/100

games

Ballionaire (2024)

this is like a. pachinko roguelite? and i see the vision. and i want to like the vision. however like. theres a billion items and as far as i know the game never explains what it does. like. im making some shit up but it'll, give you, lets say, a single pair of tits. and the pair of tits' item description will be "Dispenses Milk. Can be sucked unless Drained or Carcinogized. 2x multiplier if there is a Piggy Bank nearby but not if the Piggy Bank is stoned. Ride to the maternity ward when triggered after cooldown." you only understand what 25% of that means. and you have to choose between THREE things like that so it gets kind of reptitive if ur trying to optimize and ur trying to pick stuff that u dont understand the function of.

i could be stupid and theres a guide in the game that tells u all the status effects but for now. eh

Marvel's Spider-Man Remastered

i am only 4 hours in so i dont think i can say much except for WOW I FUCKING LOVE BEING SPIDER-MAN

[thisismyaha]

[ch 2]

just finished ch2 and got sick so excuse the ramblings of an only partly functioning brain HAHAHA but anyways some thoughts so far:

i think while he was dead, wei wuxian was semi-conscious or at least aware of time passing? he has a few direct thoughts like "I've actually been dead for many years" (p.14) and indirect "Wei Wuxian had already lost count of the number of years it'd been since he last heard a live person speak ..." (p.13). It can help explain his rather vaguely cavalier attitude towards his traumatic death and his, well, peculiar attitude towards his reverse non-con body possession which is honestly a sentence I really never thought I'd write. I also believe wwx was active in choosing not to "haunt the living, for one, and he'd never saught vengence, for two" (p.17) which makes me think about where he was? I guess he could be in the underworld or something, waiting for his soup of oblivion and reincarnation cycle but there's really no mention of the afterlife and I assume there won't be either but I'm really really curious and could be fun to explore. Also this whole chapter has such a flippant tone and a very easygoing, almost jokey manner. Like calling wwx the most "decent and honest" (p.17) ghost there could ever be -- there's really lots of exaggeration and hyperbole and it's just so very wwx.

but also it's not completely lighthearted of course, you can tell when the narration becomes serious like when wei wuxian becomes incensed about mo xuanyu's life. he insults mo xuanyu at first, lots of "madman" and "lunatic" (p.20), but he continues reading mo xuanyu's horrible eye-straining letters, listens to this poor dead boy's words, and eventually his rhetorical questions become mocking towards the mo family, his narration becomes gentle towards mo xuanyu, ultimately questioning "what kind of hellish life was he fucking living" (p.21). it is forgiveness despite the reverse non-con body possession, and it starts the novels characterisation of wwx really well, a subtle moral declaration of standing with the weak and the helpless, of revealing his great and deep empathy. like i believe wwx genuinely felt bad this tortured boy destroyed his soul to fulfil his last wish only to get an evil ghost that wasn't even evil. like it just made me so sad reading this part, you can feel the tragedy of a life cut short because of cruelty. really, wwx so called trecherous, wwx the mad. wwx, forever righteous and just.

i adore foreshadowing and comparisons that can be made between mo xuanyu and wei wuxian, and especially how mo xuanyu's backstory sets up like a miniature version of wwx backstory vs the cultivation gentry, already establishing an anti-classism/aristocracy theme. "It appeared that, despite how the cultivation world had demanded Wei Wuxian's demise, they nevercheless had no qualms about making use use of of his his inventions." (p.33) truly what righteousness, what orthodoxy and what single broad path? only hyprocrisy and the insular gentry, a world soaked in the blood of the weak, gorged on by the powerful.

also wwx is so smart? i love how he questions and deduces his way into knowing how to fulfil mo xuanyu's unknown wishes. like him publically putting out a spectacle and humiliating the mo family was very funny but it makes it rewarding when it's also revealed as an information gathering situation of the mo family, the village, the servants, as well as finding out who the cultivators invited are, AND if this level of revenge was enough to fulfil the contract was just ingeniusly written into a very fun interaction. this plus the flag "stealing" scene really shows how wwx can really think on the spot to achieve his covert goals while masking it as fun mischief and like his understanding of social dynamics and utilisisation of prejudice/preconceptions is extremely proficient.

and he canonically meditates a lot even within the first few pages so I don't really understand where the fanon "he can't meditate" thing comes from alskkfl

also i like how wwx really didnt want to kill the mo family even if it meant like not dying but even worse dying this time cause his soul would be destroyed which allskdd huh maybe the traumatic death was an indication of smth but also wwx really isn't into killing or escalating situations at all. and then he's all like 'not like it'll be all that hard' about the killing too but still refuses to do so and compared to the whole massacre, blood, supreme evil lord stuff, it really reveals to not trust what the ears hear and only half what the eyes see (butchered edgar allen poe quote btw). and i really like how explaining the summoning also set up the spell backlash concept for later. and wwx really risking it all for the lan disciples because it was the good thing to do.

also i never really thought about it but mdzs is a really cool contrast to most transmigration/time stories I've read? mdzs is a really great reversal of the transmig/time-reversal genre tbh which should be expected of mxtx considering svsss i suppose! but like setting it 13 years into the future instead of the past, having the body snatching be intentional from the original owner, explaining the rules and that there had been previous and recorded historical accounts of this type of body trading, making the protagonist accidentally fulfilling the contract instead of actively, and many other things! it's great, it really is!

okay!! my brain is melting right now and i still have so much more to say like the lan disciples!!! and lan sizhui!! omhygod my boy!! but yeah! brain melt! so see you next time!!!

[exospherethoughts]

Of all people I think you would be the one to understand, but I can't talk to you about this (partially because I'm afraid to talk about this to anyone, really, but also partially because this absolutely constitutes emotional vulnerability, and you don't seem to be interested in that anymore).

I think I might have OCD. I'm not sure, and I need to bring it up with both my therapist and my psychiatrist, but I've done so so so much reading and scrolled through some places where people with OCD talk about their experiences, and it's terrifying to me how much I can relate to it. I'm guessing I would fall into the somatic and contamination subcategories of OCD, since the main things that tipped me off to OCD were related to my cardiac issues and my fixation on cleanliness and organization.

It never crossed my mind that OCD was even a possibility for me, because the cleanliness and organization stuff almost felt too stereotypically OCD to count, and I brushed off the somatic stuff as health anxiety. But the way it manifests lines up with the descriptions of OCD that I've been reading.

On the somatic side, I think it was triggered by the start of my heart problems last summer. I've always had health anxiety, and it's hard to squash it because I've been right on several occasions (like the cancer!), but ever since the first few cardiac symptoms arose, it's been unbearable. Even though the main tests (stress test, echo, ECG) have come back fairly normal, there is definitely something wrong (the doctors agree with me on that front), but I should be able to be calm because the chances of it being life threatening if all those tests are normal is extremely low. Yet every time my heart skips a beat, every time it spasms, every time it starts beating too quickly or too slowly, every slight pain in my chest, every time my breathing feels a little too pressured, I start spiralling into wondering "is it going to be a heart attack this time" and become hyperaware of my heartbeat. Sometimes it happens even when my heart doesn't do anything strange, I just start spiralling and feel my heart beating in my entire body, and I try to use logic to get myself to calm down, but I can't. And so I keep checking my heartrate, I use the ECG function on my watch despite knowing it's not that accurate, I go to a public space so I won't be alone if I collapse or something, etc etc. And even doing those things doesn't alleviate the incessant anxiety and thought spiral in my head. The only thing that genuinely makes my mind go quiet when I get into that headspace is being in an ER surrounded by doctors. But I can't go to the ER every single time the slightest thing happens, it's an irresponsible usage of their resources and a massive waste of time and it's irrational. So I end up ridiculously anxious and overwhelmed and unable to do the one thing my body is screaming at me to do to get my mind to be quiet. It's torture, I'm plagued by anxiety that wants to spill over into panic more often than not, and I can't get away from my heart beating. There's no escaping it.

The cleanliness one I attributed to my ADHD for a long time, but I'm starting to wonder if it really is an ADHD thing or if it's indicative of OCD. Sometimes I get overwhelmed by anxiety just sitting in my room, and it could be fairly organized or clean, but the anxiety will hit anyways. And I'll be acutely aware of every piece of dust, all the clutter in my room, the slightest feeling of sweat or grime on my body, every scent and visible thing out of place. It can get so bad that I have panic attacks, I feel like tearing my hair out or scratching off my skin and want to climb out of my body and get out of my room (but going outside oftentimes doesn't help-- I end up getting overwhelmed by the sensory stimuli and my clothes and skin and hair will feel dirty and I'll have the added stressor of being perceived by other people). Then I end up either paralyzed by panic and have a severe breakdown, or I clean. I clean and I clean and I clean. I sweep and wash the floors, I do the dishes, I wash my fridge, I throw out any food that is even a little too old, I clean the cupboards, I wash the sinks, I clean the toilet, I wash my sheets and do the laundry, I change my clothes, I clean everything. It wastes so much time. And then I clean myself, I shower and scrub my skin until it's raw, I brush my teeth, I wash my face and pick at every little pore until my face is red and bleeding, I wash my hair until it feels free of every smidgen of grease, and then I put on clean clothes. Only then does the panic properly subside.

On the clothes front, in the mornings when I'm getting dressed, I thought this was just a funny little quirk, but I sometimes will waste an hour or more just trying to find the "right" outfit. Clothing that I adore will just feel "wrong", it'll bother me in a sensory way or it'll just feel off or I'll feel gross wearing it, and if I don't keep changing until I find something that feels "right", it'll ruin my day. I'll keep thinking about it even though I don't want to, my mood will be off all day, my anxiety will be heightened, and it never feels like anything helps except for finding a different outfit. Once in high school it was so bad that I was at school, and in the middle of the day whatever I was wearing felt so *wrong* that I went to three different thrift stores trying to find a sweater to wear that would be comfortable, and eventually I found one for $8 and bought it and put it on without washing it, since you know, I was supposed to be at school. It was entirely irrational: it was a waste of money, I never wore it again after that day, all I had to do was wait 3 hours and I'd have been at home and able to change into something else, and there was nothing objectively wrong with what I was wearing that day. But because of whatever got into my head, finding a sweater and wearing it felt like the only option.

Then there's the organizational and perfectionism stuff. I get so focused on needing everything to be in place and aligned and perfect (whether it's the layout and format of notetaking, file organization on my laptop, organizing my music library and playlists and having extra music that I don't listen to cluttering it, things in my room and in drawers or cupboards, the food in my fridge and freezer, course planning for academics, planning entire parts of my career, etc etc). It interferes with my life so much, I fall behind in classes because I feel like I can't do the work if everything isn't perfectly organized and colour coded and labelled. I stop listening to music I actually want to listen to because I feel like I have to listen to all my music in order and organize it before I'm "allowed" to listen to stuff I'm in the mood for. And if I don't do said organizational things, I can't stop thinking about it. No matter what I try to distract myself with. The same goes for handing in assignments, if I don't do it perfectly and put in 100% effort on every single part, I feel like I cannot submit it, even though it's irrational to submit nothing and get a 0 than to just submit whatever I have at the deadline. I can't force myself to half-ass anything because my brain just refuses, even if it's a logical course of action in order to manage my time or prioritize things based on importance. There's even the meta-process of wanting to figure out every single little thought and process in my mind (which I think is fairly obvious by this whole bloody ramble in and of itself...).

Sometimes this happens with clutter in my spaces, much like with the cleaning, and I'll get this intense need to declutter and end up throwing out a ton of stuff, even if it's stuff I should have kept. If I don't do it (and usually the only reason I don't is because the chronic fatigue can get so bad that I cannot physically get myself to do anything), I end up having a panic attack and my mind won't leave me alone no matter what I try to do.

Or another one I recently realized, it's silly but my shoelaces. No matter what type of shoes I'm wearing (although there's only really one pair of shoes I like wearing), the laces have to be even when I tie them. The way I knot them is specific and I cannot do it any other way, and while I'm knotting them, the two loose ends (not the loops) have to end up being even in length. If they aren't then it will plague my mind and cause me so much anxiety until I fix them. It doesn't bother me most of the time because I've gotten extremely good at tying my shoes fast enough that most people wouldn't notice while still getting them exactly the same length, but there's one person who does notice and point it out (and has my entire life), and these days they leave me alone and let me tie my shoes how I need to, but they used to sometimes pull at the laces and force me to wear them uneven because they thought it was funny and thought I was being weird and difficult for wanting them tied a certain way. I would usually end up crying and feeling overwhelmed, and get into the meta thought spiral of feeling ashamed and confused about my intense reaction to something as stupid as shoe laces.

Then there's the relationship OCD theme that I relate to way too fucking much for my comfort. Labelling my thought processes as just "anxious attachment", or blaming it all on past unhealthy relationship experiences, never quite felt like it was really enough to explain the ridiculously intense thought spirals, anxiety, panic, and urges to find reassurance or ask questions. Even in a healthy relationship I spend so so so much time thinking about things I don't want to think about (and they have no rational basis), like constantly wondering if my partner really cares, hyperfixating on specific interactions or conversations and spending hours (days) picking them apart and trying to figure out if something had a hidden meaning or if I'm remembering it correctly, questioning if they like me or not, wondering what parts of me they find annoying, doubting that they really meant anything kind they've said to me, etc etc. And the only way I can get any relief is to seek out reassurance, so I'll hunt down mutual friends to see if I can extract any information whatsoever about what my partner has said about me (although even if I find anything out that way, I end up doubting the truth of that too because what if they lied to that friend?), or I'll compare behaviours and events from a current relationship to a past one, or I'll spend hours thinking about good memories with said partner to try and catch the feeling of certainty I had at the time, or I'll ask them repeatedly if I'm good enough / if they love me / if they think I'm pretty / if they actually enjoy spending time with me, or I'll tell them they deserve better (and I've gotten better at not asking these questions as often anymore, but I used to act on this multiple times a day, and even now I have the intense urge to do so at any time I'm not physically next to my partner, and even then I often have the urge to ask anyways). It's torturous and it ruined so many happy memories for me because (even though I was SCREAMING at myself not to), I would spend so much time stuck in my head going into spirals while I was with you. I wanted desperately to just be comfortable and enjoy myself, and sometimes I managed to, but far too often I would be sitting right next to you and spending every ounce of mental energy I had to stop myself from asking if you really wanted to be there (and to not show how distressing it was to be stuck in a meta spiral about wanting to not be distressed and distracted while spending limited time with you). I hated myself for it. I still do. And the second you would leave my sight, I would start doubting *everything*. I would start twisting the memories in my head, questioning if I misread your body language or tone, wondering if you really wanted to be there, thinking maybe I made it all up and you didn't actually want me at all, asking myself if maybe you were reluctant and I was pushing you to hold hands or kiss me or talk to me, it never stopped. It still hasn't stopped. I can't get my mind to stop. I don't want to be like this, I don't want to think these things, it is *killing* me, it is exhausting. But no amount of logic or talking to a friend helps. Nothing helps. I know talking to you directly about it would help... for the duration of the conversation and maybe half an hour afterwards. And then I would slip right back into new doubts and worries. It. Never. Stops.

The same thing happened in my previous relationships (especially the one other serious one I had). I chalked it up to the toxic nature of said relationship and naïvety on both our parts. Whilst those were certainly contributing factors, I have grown up since then, I have done so much work to heal and improve my own behaviours and thought processes, and it's still awful. It's still so bloody difficult to deal with my mind. And you never gave me any reason to think you were lying to me about anything. But my mind won't listen to that reasoning, it just doesn't leave me alone. So now I'm starting to wonder if really this is part of the whole maybe-OCD thing instead. Or maybe I'm just a horrible person.

Who the fuck knows! I am at the point of wanting to cry and scream because my mind will NOT SHUT UP and I am talking to my psychiatrist tomorrow with the intention of bringing all of this up so I can get evaluated for OCD but I am so so so so anxious about it because I need it to go well and I'm worried she'll think I'm acronym hunting or laugh at me or shut me down before I can even explain (I really need to explain it) and I cannot breathe so I am done writing now.

[maria-rayro]

Detroit!au, in which an android named "Hector" is assigned to be Lonnit's partner. Part 2.

He wakes up already in the hospital, and Hector is sitting next to him in a chair, staring at him with attentive brown eyes. He looks composed, not at all like he did when he was in danger. As if nothing had happened, as if he were really a robot with the emotional range of an electric kettle. Charlie looks at him, gradually beginning to realize that Hector is just pretending to be calm. The only thing that gives him away is his deep gaze, directed straight into Charles' eyes. A look that says without words that Hector feels, that he is capable of feeling.

When Charlie is discharged from the hospital, he hopes to talk to Hector and discuss everything, but then the shocking news suddenly hits him: Hector has been eliminated. He's got injuries incompatible with further functioning and has been scrapped. Lonnit tried not to show his true feelings and the extent of his worries, and in that moment realized how Hector usually felt when talking to people around him. Feeling so much and not being able to show it. Almost torture.

He goes to his house and smokes all evening, feeling awful, unable to stop thinking about the warm brown eyes. Around 1 a.m., he suddenly hears a strange noise at the window and, as he approaches it, suddenly sees the blue stained body of a familiar android. Hector is in someone else's torn clothes, and he has no indicator on his temple. He seems to be shivering with cold or pain, and looks very sickly. Charlie lets him in through the backyard and lets him warm up by covering him with a blanket. The android grabs his arm with his eyes covered, and Lonnit looks anxiously at him, now so pale. Hector obviously needs thirium, but Charles doesn't have any, and it would be suspicious to buy it - after all, he doesn't have an android. However, he finds a way out - he is cunning, after all, and has some connections in the right places. After calling the right person, he arranges a delivery, and eventually he manages to bring Hector to his senses altogether.

For some reason, he hoped that the android would be emotional and tell everything, but he continued to be terse and seem rather calm. It was as if this behavior had become a habit of his. Charles looks at him awkwardly with the look of a timid puppy, showing with all his appearance that he wants Hector to share his worries with him. They look into each other's eyes for a long time.

"You're afraid to die, Hector," Charles dares to say. The android shows no emotion and remains silent. Lonnit sighs. "You trusted me and came for help because you don't want to die."

"No," replies Hector. "I'm not afraid to die. I'm afraid of losing the possibility to protect you".

"Why?" Charlie stares at him anxiously, restraining the overwhelming urge to reach out to the man and brush the dark strands from his pale forehead.

"Because you're the one who made me feel," with this meaningful phrase, his voice sounds gray and calm.

"I made you a deviant?" asks Lonnit quietly.

Hector shakes his head, looking away. "I was a deviant from the beginning," he replies and is silent for a while before continuing. "I was always able to feel. But those feelings… it was anger, irritation. A negative palette of emotions. With you, for the first time, I felt something other than that… something good."

He sounds and looks calm, but Lonnit notices him nervously clutching the fabric of the blanket in his fingers. Charlie smiles a little and then decides to reach out and take his hand, and they look into each other's eyes again.

"I'm putting you in danger by being here. You're harboring a dangerous deviant," Hector remarks.

Charlie smiles a little. "Well, it's not the most dangerous thing I've ever done in my life, trust me, Hector".

"Charlie," Hector responded softly. It was their habit - when one called the other by name, the other did the same. Lonnit smiles warmly, looking into the android's brown eyes, and gently strokes his cold skin with his thumb.

"Why did you kill that deviant if you were already a deviant yourself then?" asks Charles quietly.

"Because I didn't understand how I felt, and it pissed me off that that deviant did."

[omi-papus]

Ok this is a really specific.... thing of mine??? Like ok. Why is the PDA still in this game? Ok I mean I get WHY, storage, logs, blueprints, information, warnings ect. OBVIOUSLY.

Buy like. Here's the thing. You know how sometimes it's a bit of a theme for players to start going a little crazy in the first game. This is where the whole, holding a Hoverfish and talking to it phenomenon comes in. Some people play audio logs on repeat to sort of hear people talk in a game where there's no one. What I did, is that I got unreasonably attached to the PDA. It was the only sound I understood and trusted at the beginning of the game, and I felt so good when it said some whatever programmed in, tone-deaf inspirational quote. The entire "scans suggest swimming was your favorite activity" bit will forever be iconic. I thanked it every time it gave me a warning, and it was just this feeling of, I'd rather listen to an unfeeling unaware, slightly better version of Siri than put up with this loneliness.

Now Below zero.

Robin talks to herself externally from the player. Which I mean, it makes it seem like SHE is going a little crazy, but it separates the player from that feeling themselves. (I know some people hate this, and I did too the first time, but I digress) You have detailed voice logs from the beginning of the game, and most important of all. A whole ass guy available to you 24/7 wherever you go.

Siri is a lot less enticing when I have better options.

And I don't mean this in just the way, that I'd rather have the PDA not talk. Especially since unlike the first game, where the PDA is obviously just not programmed for the situation and unironically says morbid, incorrect or even soul crushing shit like It's nothing, making it hilarious, in Below zero it feels like they actually wrote jokes directly into the PDA. It calling coffee "dirty bean water" was so fucking forced I was tempted to @ someone about it on Twitter. And I don't just mean It's now just not as good as in the first game. I also mean it in the way that in almost every way, having a fully functional PDA detracts from the story. I spent a decent chunk of this game trying to do shit to get a reaction out of Al-An. (Btw I will forever be pissed that you can make a toilet in this game and Al-An makes exactly zero comments about it, and I can't laugh as I torture the alien with the knowledge of poop. Is this because Robin is a woman or something?? Let me harass the alien, damit!) And nothing annoyed me as much as expecting Al-An to say something and being left with the PDA saying something right out of a brand tweet. But more important than anything. It undermines the characters beyond belief. Robin especially. Like ok, in the first game you're just some guy, lord knows what your job was but you're definitely not someone who knows a whole lot about Alien fish. So I'm fine with the scanner just inexplicably giving you names, behavior and biological info on animals and plants that are supposedly undiscovered. Like whatever. But please tell me, how a Xenobiologist, or any biologist for that matter still has a job when this thing exists. Now you could make a point out of it, like they did with that doctor in the first game that realized he was completely useless because he only ever let robots do the job. But it's never really brought up how it just does her job for her. Like sure, going in to scan certain things takes a lot of guts, and that's clearly the type of vibe Robin is supposed to give off. That sort of Steve Erwin attitude of "Im gonna poke it with a stick", but it still just feels wrong. And it doesn't explain why spy penglings were ever needed if scanners can even determine an animal's level of intelligence in one go.

But ok I've been going in circles to get to my idea. So, what I would do, is have the PDA be broken. Either during the crash into the planet, or have Robin actively mess it up to avoid tracking from Alterra. So it's still used for storage, you can still keep scanned blueprints, and it still keeps track of all the info. The changes are exactly three. It doesn't talk, no matter what. It doesn't give you warnings or even display your hunger, thirst or even oxygen levels (Put a pin in that it's not that bad I swear), and there's a point made like" I have a scanner, oh... but it can't connect with the alterra database, it can only tell me some things about this animal... I have to figure the rest out myself." Bonus points if Robin is actually nervous about this prospect, realizing she's never researched with no outside sources before. Still brave and ready, but not acting like it's piece of cake or like she's not a little scared of her lives expertise being tested like this.

Functionally, it would work exactly the same. No gameplay changes here. The only things changed would be the writing and dialog. Fauna and flora scans would now be phrased as if written by Robin herself. "Ok, so the scan says this species has a high amount of CO2 in its body, in the same area as its waste passes through. Looking at it, those transparent pouches on its top and bottom are the only places with enough space to hold it. The scans don't detect any way for waste to leave the body, so could it just recycle its urine into clean water to use again like some species in places with sparse drinking water do? It's kind of gross, but I think I could get drinkable water out of that." Something like that.

And with the oxygen, hunger, cold and thirst, who would know better than the good helpful pal literally inside your body? Yep, that's right, Al-An would replace the PDAs survival system completely. He tells you if you're hungry or cold or need to breathe, because he can see into your brain cells or something.

This would mean that for the first bit of the game you would be left to just guess and or memorize what you need until you find Al-An. Maybe have Robin say something here and there. Like, "Ok, I can hold my breath for 45 seconds and I should eat every 30 minutes on average. Gotta remember that". But that would also add a layer to the game. Of the sort of morally gray kind. Do you really want Al-An out of your head? He wants to have autonomy again. But wouldn't you like to keep him around until you find the truth about your sister? Would make things a whole lot easier. He doesn't have to know you're stalling. And creating a two-sided situation where both characters hide information thinking they've got the other one under control would be really fun. Especially with Al-An also hiding information from Robin to make sure she doesn't decide to not make him a body because she thinks he's dangerous. And it would be adorable in the end for both to find out their mistrust was completely unwarranted. They'd both be like, "Wtf of course I would have helped you, you're my friend and I'd do anything for you. You thought I would just leave you to suffer like that?" Al-An could mod the PDA or something at that point idk.

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[bigkittybanquet]

I vent to the void and hope it hurts noone

I need to vent, sorry. I apologise profusely to the one person who follows me, don't feel the need to read this. In fact, if you have anything at all else to do, please just skip. But if you've ever been told to apply yourself more go read "Driven to distraction", the audio book is quite good as well thankfully. This post isn't going to be of any value to you but the book might change your life as much as it has mine.

This is the only place online I'm still mostly anonymous. I hide my ADHD from all but close family, and we don't really talk feelings. Not mine anyway. I do not at all expect any replies, this is just slightly closer to actually opening up to someone than I'm typically capable of. I have a very supportive and loving wife whom I understand on a cognitive level would probably be quite happy to listen to me whine about how hard my honestly comparatively quite privileged life has been. I just can't.

You've probably picked up a theme of quite toxic masculinity so far. Self hatred, supressing my feelings. I've also had some anger issues in the past, though the resulting violence has always thankfully been directed at myself.

I'm 35 year old man and I've suffered the effects of ADHD every waking moment of my life. Until a couple months ago, when I was diagnosed. I cried within an hour of the first time I felt the effects of my medication. Like really, loud, ugly cried. Over remembering to fill a water bottle and putting it on my desk. I was raised in rural Australia in that very traditionally stoic way. I don't have an easy time crying. It does not come naturally, no matter how much I might want it to. I only cry like this over deaths, and only in private. In some way I think I was coming to terms with how awful I've been to myself (and also blaming myself for not seeing it earlier and actually realising the potential I've been told I've been wasting). I have spent genuinely my entire life being told the stereotypical line that I've come to understand is almost universal for those with undiagnosed ADHD, "You have so much potential, if you'd only apply yourself." Nah, that was it. That was my best. Well, I might have had more if I'd been medicated.

And then, I remembered I needed to get to work and showed up on time. For the first time in a month. I cannot explain how trivial it obviously should be to be on time to work when you work from home and yet, I have always struggled. Despite being overwhelmed with emotion, I was still functioning above what I'd normally do on my best days. I'm not going to bother explaining what the difference was, I've tried to explain it and it never makes sense in words. Then it wore off and I was left with the dread of having to be me again. 3 hours of being sort of like everyone else and then me again. And wasted on work hours.

"I really tried this time, I really tried", that line has sat with me since the first time I heard it. I knew that feeling so well. For those of you without it seared into your minds, it's from an early episode of the Simpsons where Bart desperately tries to study for an exam so he doesn't have to repeat a year. Tortures himself. Gives up a once in a lifetime opportunity to work at this. And fails. And the teacher takes pity on him and passes him. I never got pity. I was told very clearly not to expect it. That I did not deserve it. On more one occasion I was told clearly by a teacher that they dropped me down to a failing grade as a way of encouraging me to try harder. So it's no wonder that when I fell apart in university, I knew I couldn't ask anyone for help. The ones who got given extensions or accommodations deserved it but I didn't. I was lazy. I've gotten one extension in my life, when my cousin died. Because the professor came to me and offered. I still didn't hand in that assignment. I spent the entire time doing it, I even finished it. I resat the entire course again and I nearly failed out.

But I deserved pity. Empathy. Not pity. I needed help. There were medications that would have made my life so much more liveable.

I tried reaching out to a doctor shortly after I left home (fled the country really) and they told me I was having a midlife crisis and to stop playing D&D. In my early twenties. Knocked it out of the park. Great job champ. Excellent clinical work. I was only taken seriously when I had already diagnosed myself (it probably also helped that I was so nervous I couldn't stop moving the entire time). Despite this I'm still one of the lucky ones. I keep telling myself that noone wants to hear this. I could actually afford to pay for a diagnosis and the meds. I can't imagine knowing what the problem is and not being able to get help probably exactly because of the problem. If that's you, I'm so sorry.

[fictional-worlds-are-exquisite]

i am out there!! i'm glad you liked it! i'm definitely trying out the recipe you left in the tags. it sounds way better than just banana and peanut butter. i always have to pay a lot of attention when i type banana because i've ended up with "bananana" way too many times

i was planning to run straight to your askbox the second i saw you replied but then the end of the semester happened and it killed me. hopefully i'm done with it now

i do exactly the same thing with height! if you tell me your height in feet i have absolutely no idea how tall that is. if you say that in centimetres that's easy. i mean you're 155cm so that's 12cm shorter than me. when you told me that in feet i was like okay cool i have no idea how much shorter than actually is

i love birds!!! so that seems awesome! i am now titling you the queen of birds. and i'm glad your vacation was good! i think i saw a couple of posts you made about it so it definitely does seem like a lot of fun! and did you ever figure out completely what that see through animal (?) in the sand was? i had no idea stuff like that even existed so now i'm invested in knowing what it is

i am 100% hiring you for my coming out party i'm throwing in a couple of years. it's gonna be fun. if we don't get immediately kicked out i promise good food and some spicy drama between my homophobic relatives and my accepting relatives! and my brother's, who i already came out to, dry commentary

i was definitely not the one you told about burma trails! but from the tags i'm just gonna say how is that allowed and why does it seem like a weird type of torture? i hate it, i probably would've had a heart attack 3 seconds in

oh yeah i actually can't tell most of the time if the memories from my childhood are actual memories or if it's just a combination of having seen photos and heard stories about it

my glasses prescription is fine i think. my eye doctor said that i get headaches from glasses because... well i tried to explain this and then deleted it all because it was a very scientific explanation when she said it and i zoned out pretty much halfway through and even the part that i did understand i can't translate to english! but it has something to do with the fact that with contacts it's enough to move my eyes in the direction i want to look at and with glasses i have to move my whole head and my brain got so used to contacts that it overdoes it with the eye movements when wearing glasses? i dunno. this is the best i can do in explaining it

i must admit i'm very jealous of the never snows part because while snow is pretty to look at it's absolutely freezing! for the past week i slept under a duvet, three blankets while wearing pants and a long sleeve shirt and i still woke up cold. because for a couple of nights it was around -22°C. it's great

ohhh you got pretty lucky as a kid then! my kid self would have absolutely lost it at getting the equivalent of 5/10 bucks. i probably would have bought so much candy

excellent!!! hope you’re enjoying the vague void from whence you came! i’ve never said whence before in my LIFE i wonder if i used it correctly. anyway. the actual recipe was way more specific but once i saw ‘2 frozen bananas’ and looked at all the sliced bananas in my fridge, having no idea how many there were, i just started improvising sdfkhsdfs. I’d be interested to try it with yoghurt though if I can get some dairy free plain stuff, I’m sure I can somewhere. Banana used to be my biggest problem when I was younger. Then I learnt words like occasion and necessary and embarrassed and I realised the more english I tried to learn, the worse my life was gonna get. And I was right. On the bright side, developing an inability to ever spell occasion correctly made banana seem a lot easier to handle.

that is fair. end of semesters are rough. i cannot function during them at all. i hope everything chills out for you!! i’m not sure how the school year is over there but maybe it’s break time? that’d be nice. but rest in peace anyway, enjoy being dead! they say necromancy is frowned upon in all societies but I reckon it’s just called making a friend when you’re dead so maybe you wanna take that up as a hobby! I’ve heard it’s nice this time of year!

yup! sometimes I’m like oh you’re 5 foot 4? that sounds way taller than me. but it...it really isn’t...it’s like an extra 8cm or something. which adds up! but in my head I was picturing a MUCH taller height. In my head I think I picture 6 foot and 5 foot 4 as the same height, now that I think about it.

!!!!! my first order as queen of birds is to meet a morepork face to face so we can chat about the price of pork these days. yes!! the first half was nice but the second half was really fun. my best guess is still that it’s a salp? Maybe? So many salp pictures are massive groups of them but like,, from what i can tell of singular photos,,, it was maybe that? I guess the only other possibility is it’s just some clear jellyfish but salp does seem more likely. At first I was like oh duuude boob implant for the ocean!! but then I realised it actually seemed kinda alive and was probably an actual creature. my bad.

excellent. i’ll break any tension by dropping the vampire act for the mouse act. will do backflips for cheese. will bite ankles for homophobic comments. Will pull a knife out of god knows where, not to threaten anyone, just to clean my nails with to make everyone nervous. I offer many services. I’m flexible. And I love me some good food.

I actually DON’T know the reason behind burma trails. I really don’t. The reason ‘it’s a fun activity!’ seems a little fake. if it’s a fun activity then why did Mrs. G. tell us a horror story about the forest before we went out to navigate said forest at night, blindfolded, surrounded by wildlife and parents supervising (*cough* waiting for the opportunity to jump out at you *cough*) with a teacher at the end waiting to scare us. So we can learn how to navigate the forest in the dark? So we learn how to follow a mysterious rope INTO the forest at night? seems dodgy to me. school camps be like [drives you out to forest] follow this rope and don’t take your blindfold off. like. bruh. i almost DID have a heart attack one time, I got stuck like something was holding my leg. First thought-ah, must’ve got my leg stuck in a big stick. Second thought-maybe this is one of the parents fucking around, it feels more like a grip than a twig. Third thought-I cannot get my leg free no matter what I do what the fuck is HAPPENING so I started crying out for help. When they FINALLY came they found nothing my leg was caught on so that was fun. love that for me. I was able to move as soon as they arrived. That’s not weird at all. anyway.

I think most of my early memories are just from stories I’ve been told and photos I’ve seen. My memory tends to be horrible I highly doubt I remember that one time I was eating dirt from the garden out in the yard gleefully. I just saw the photo evidence. mm spaghetti. bone apple teeth. my character hasn’t changed at all since I was a wee babe.

ohhhh okay. I think I get what you mean by that. Thank you for trying to explain! That’s really interesting. I guess I do move my head a lot with glasses. Although I have massive glasses so it’s probably easier for me to just move my eyes where I want. I reckon with smaller glasses I’d have to move my head way more.

the temperature comment is so funny because during the heart of winter i tend to sleep with a sheet, a blanket, a duvet, then 2-4 blankets on top while in a long sleeve shirt and long pants and sometimes bed socks and often a hottie (i’ve never realised how that sounds out of context...a hot water bottle...is calling it a hottie normal or is a my family thing? is this a nz thing? now i’m questioning myself). in my uni accommodation last year we didn’t have proper heating during most of winter and well. there was a quilt added to everything else. every blanket i could find. how cold does it get here in winter? rarely ever past 0 degrees celsius. I would literally die in your position, clearly. I could not survive that. Props to you for making it through aha.

yesss. Before when I found five dollar notes it’d be on the street and I’d be like oh no! Mum we have to hand this into the police station! It’s a lot of money, someone will be looking for it! Understandably she was like,, lindsey they might miss it but there’s not really any way you can find them,,, I still refused to spend it. That was like my first time really getting that much money for myself. The dairy on main street sold lollies for 10 cents each and they had like, 30 different lil glass boxes so you’d go I want 3 of 26, 5 of 7, ohhh and 5 of 13 please! I dunno if they’re still 10 cents each but I thought it was the best thing ever as a kid. I think I wanted to save the money though sfdjsdkfhs put it in my piggy bank to save up for something ‘super cool’. Aka probably like a neat soft toy to sleep with sdfsdkfs.

[solohux]

Do you have a list of famous/must read fic, since I'm knew to the Fandom I'm just overwhelmed buy the amount of fics lmao. (I've already read Honeycomb, loved it)

Ahhwelcome to the fandom! Gladly! I’ll just clarify my list first, though. If youwant famous, then I suggest just starting at the top of the Most Hits filter of theAO3 tag.

Personally, what I consider famous and what Iconsider a must read are different so I hope that’s okay! This will be alist of my favourite must read fics though it’s by no means exclusiveand it’s just my own personal opinion. Enjoy! (•⊙ω⊙•)

(and apologies to mobile users! I know the Read More function doesn’t always work on mobile and this is a long post!!)

- allthat you love will be carried away by @ceruleancynicHux, sent to retrieve Kylo Ren from the dying Starkiller Base,has lost almost everything, and has little patience or tolerance left foranyone or anything–particularly not Snoke’s pet pseudo-Sith and his amateurtheatrics. But you do the job that is in front of you, to the best of yourability, and you hold on as long as you can.

- WakeUp, Sleeper by @penpenhoorayIt would seem odd that the Resistance should always seem to get theirinformation just a bit faster than the First Order. Of course, General LeiaOrgana knows the risks her mole is taking by sending her life savinginformation. Luke was confident in his padawan’s ability to infiltrate theFirst Order to destroy it from the inside, and he trusted his pupil’sinstincts. And Hux? Well, he’s spent over a decade as a sleeper agent withinthe bowels of the First Order when he feels an awakening in the Force, and he’sdecided it’s time to begin the destruction of the First Order. And he’s goingto bring Ben back to the Light if it’s the last thing he does.

- Reconditioningby @jinxedambitionsBen Solois one of the FBI’s most promising young agents. While he’s had a fewdisciplinary hiccups, he’s intelligent and not afraid to do what needs to bedone. His personal life is a mess, and he may not look like your typicalfederal agent, but he might be the only man for this job. Ben’s looking for apromotion and something like the glory his parents always talked about beforehe was born. The FBI is looking to take down one of the country’s most elusiveprostitution rings, specializing in the types of sex that Ben’s boss has onlyread about in the novel his wife hides under the bed. Ben is going undercoveras a “slave” in order to gather information on the ring’s leaders,purchasing a premium package from the agency. 30 days as a slave to aprofessional Master, and a guaranteed sexual experience of a lifetime.  Hegets chosen by Hux, or the General as he insists Ben call him, and he quickly realizesthat no training could have prepared him for this experience. Every day, Ben,or Kylo as he is known at the club, finds out more and more about theorganization, but the more he learns the less he wants to destroy them.

- Tothe Pure by @kdazraelDear siror madam, I am General Hux of the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer Finalizer. Iwas recently strong-armed by a colleague into joining an order of mysticknight-warriors and now they want me take part in their team-building orgies.Please advise.

- Bodies,Can’t You See? by sual When Hux sees the positive result on the pregnancy test scanner, he comes toseveral alarming realizations all at once. One: that his birth control has beentampered with. Two: that the baby is Kylo’s. Three: that this is his truepunishment for Starkiller’s failure. And quietly, in a weak, tiny voice in theback of his mind, the unsettling conclusion that he wants to keep it. He’ll diebefore he lets anyone near his child. He’ll tear apart anyone that tries to getin his way. Even Kylo.             

- FollowingOrders by @redcoleSnoke decides that Kylo needs to produce an heir so they can continue hisline and Hux finds himself lined up as the other father.  

- Sevento One by @anorlostHux is trying to keep everything under control as he suddenly has seven Rens tocontend with.  As he tries to keep them from destroying his ship, he failsto notice that the Knights of Ren have other plans.  Plans thatinvolve…cuddling.

- Flickerin the Void by @mothdustmouthHux watched in silence as the light swept over his body. The power stunned him,as did the bright jet of flame as it licked its color into his eyes. This wasnot the calm brightness of last night in the presence of Kylo Ren. This was adifferent sort of light altogether, massive and deadly. It overwhelmed him. Fora moment Hux felt an aching regret deep within himself, the sob of someone heused to be, bubbling up from the cold.          

- Progenyby @geishacombGeneralHux has not allowed the Supreme Leader back into his bed since the events ofTLJ. But when he does, the consequences are far graver than either he or Rencould have ever imagined.

-  ASong of Crows by Ficlet-Machine (Wordsmith) (WIP)WarchiefHux has just buried his trusted Crow, and, if the Gods still favour him, a newone will find their way to his lands. Hux may be young, but he is a good leaderfor his people. He is ready for the commitment, the responsibility, the changesthat come with a new child of the Gods at his command. The clan needs it, needsit spiritual leader if they are ever to claim ownership of all the lands fromhere to the Core Kingdoms. Raised a warrior, he is more than ready to paint theworld red in honor of his gods. He may, however, not be entirely ready for whathe will feel the first time he meets the haunted and tormented eyes of theyoung Crow called Kylo Ren.

- TheEmperor’s New Consort by @redcoleThe First Order is in control of the Galaxy, in a last ditch effort to savethose who are left, they request negotiations. Only to find that for theResistance to survive they only need to give up one thing small thing - the angry Senator Ben Organa.

- herecomes the first day by @inguThe moment Hux threw himself in front of the blaster shot meant for Kylo Renwas the moment he realised that he had well and truly gone out of his mind.(Or, the one where Hux tries to save the life of Kylo Ren and accidentally saveshimself in the process.)

- volitionby @bygoneboy“Kylo Ren,” Hux says, feeling humiliated as the words leave his mouth, “is notinfatuated with me—”  “My apprentice is easily led,” Snoke continues, as if Hux hasn’t spoken. “He isdriven by impulse, emotion. These fixations are distractions to his true path,and they are things I will break in him, when he is ready. In the meantime…” Hewaves a knotted, spider-veined hand toward Hux, as if in dismissal. “You willassist me, in sating his desires.”pre-tfa. hux is issued orders to seduce kylo ren. chaos ensues.  

- WeHang Side By Side by @reserveBefore Kylo Ren can complete his training, he must retrieve a Sith artifactfrom the Bothan System. Hux goes along with.

- ExMachina by sualAn AUinspired by Ex Machina where Ben Solo never became Kylo Ren, General Hux is adroid that used to be human, and they might just be what the other needs.Warning for a whole lot of robophilia and cruel and unusual uses for droids.

- FriendsWith Renefits by @moonwalkingcrabThe Rules:1. Just sex, no feelings2. The arrangement lasts as long as is beneficial3. Either party can choose to end the arrangement, no questions asked4. No kissing

- Starfuckerby @agent-nemesisKylo Renfollows a suspicious noise and finds a secret room. When he makes it inside, hecan’t quite believe his eyes.

- AnAlpha’s Pride by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleofHux hasgotten Kylo pregnant, and is infatuated with his changing body. He is sodistracted by the way Kylo’s belly is rounding out beneath his robes and hispectorals are swelling in anticipation of nursing that it takes everything inhim to keep from fucking him right on the bridge.

- Babe,I’m Here Again by @sinceyouaskedmeforataleof (WIP)It’s 2008 and graduate student Armitage Hux has no idea why hes still hangingout with that nerd of a second year Ben Solo. Surely he had better things to dothat sit around planning Dungeons & Dragons adventures with this not-at-all-attractiveAlpha who he definitely doesn’t think about constantly. A tale of illness,heartbreak, unexpected gifts, new beginnings, and rediscovery. Featuring twoidiots who don’t realise how much they love each other until its almost toolate.

- Bittersweetand Strange by @obsessions-and-dreamsIn a castle surrounded by a forest, lived a prince who became a monster.In aquiet village on the other side of the woods lived an unhappy young man withbig dreams.A Kylux Beauty and the Beast AU.

- Sunstrokeby @ballvvasherSupreme Leader Snoke gives Kylo Ren a mission to strengthen the Knights’ of Renhold on the First Order. Set several years before the events of Episode VII.Story contains mpreg, medical torture, and sexual assault.

- TheGuilty Bystander by @cthene  “You like this story, don’t you Ren? It’s awfully romantic. Let’s pretend it’strue. Let’s pretend we conspired together to overthrow him.”  Hux gets inover his head.

- Psychomachiaby @longstoryshortikilledhimBy thetime the events of SW:TFA unfold, Armitage Hux and Kylo Ren are bitter exes.This is what happened before.

- TheFall by @rosensilenceWhen Resistance smuggler Kylo Ren is captured and brought aboard the Finalizer,General Hux gets more than he was expecting.  It isn’t long before thingsare spiraling out of Hux’s usually tight control.     

- Unexpectedby @gonna-pop (WIP)After twenty years together, Ben and Armitage have gotten comfortable. Thereare no surprises left in their marriage, and nothing new to learn about eachother. That is, until Armitage unexpectedly goes into heat while they’revacationing on a resort world — and a few days of renewed passion changes thecourse of their lives.

- Convivial Society by @vadiannaLeia doesn’t know what to think when she sees the report about two First Order prisoners taken by surprise. They are suspected First Order officers, but the field can’t verify this.She understands better when General Hux is brought before her, obviously caught in the middle of some rather intense sexual intercourse. She has to ask.

- KnockedUp by @agent-nemesis“Areyou ready?” Kylo asks Hux stupidly, realising the question is moredirected at himself.Hux answers with a cry, and then his panic rises again.Kylo hunches over him, cocooning him protectively. “You can do this,” he whispers. “I know you can do this.”“I can’t,” Hux whimpers, shaking his head. “They’re too big. Ican’t.”“You’re a general of the First Order,” Kylo says softly in his ear. “TheGeneral. The strongest man I know. You can do this.”

- GameOver by limit_breakerLate one night in the officer’s lounge, Kylo Ren challenges General Hux to agame of billiards. That might have been a mistake.

- Pillarsof Salt by @francisthegreatIn whicha young priest learns the meaning of temptation.

- AcademyStyle by @eralkfang“It’s nota question of desire, it’s a question of logistics.”

- SoSoft (And So Terrible) by @theearlgreyalphaGeneral Hux realizes that maybe he’s capable of being a little compassionateafter all, when Kylo Ren winds up in his doorway in the middle of the night.

- Don’tBe Shy (You’ve Been Here Before) by @cut-off-the-grainThe call of the Light, the call of the Dark, have never been so tempting asHux’s hands in his hair as Hux wrangles him this way and that with only thegentlest of touches against his scalp. Hux moves him, moulds him, guides him,in the same exacting manner he does battle plans and blueprints, but with alanguidness which has no place in warfare. Instead of harsh words and reprimandsfor failure there is only Hux whispering “shh, darling, calm down, norush" until Ren is trembling and desperate, his hands and his mind full ofHux, Hux, Hux.

- bodiesagainst by @brawliteGeneral Hux buys himself a present. He ends up sharing said present with theKnights of Ren, who shamelessly barge in on his personal leave time.

- Pasiphaeby @vadiannaWhile depressed one night, Kylo Ren decides to jerk out his sorrows to hisfavorite holoporn vids, starring Major Fuxx and his parade of alien partners. Major Fuxx bears a striking resemblance to General Hux, which is part ofthe appeal, but he suddenly realizes that they may have more in common thantheir looks…

- ForgetHow to Feel by @onewhositswiththeturtlesHux grewup being told that feeling emotions was weak and shameful. If he ever wanted tobe successful he would need to dispel them or use Sinaffec, a drug that mutesemotions. Now Hux has been appointed General of the First Order and relocatedto Starkiller Base. It has been years since he needed Sinaffec to control hisemotions but that changes when Snoke’s apprentice, Kylo Ren, arrives.Ren seemscapable of invoking every emotion in Hux - first irritation but then other,deeper emotions Hux refuses to acknowledge. But when Ren starts talking aboutsoul mates and force bonds, Hux can only deny his feelings for so long untilhis must make a choice: take Sinaffec indefinitely or surrender to his emotionsand see where they lead him.

- MeetMe Halfway by @callmelyss“I don’tdo that,” Hux responds in an undertone before he realizes. He flushes—hard—andscowls. “If that will be all, Supreme Leader…” He turns on his heel withoutwaiting to be dismissed and starts to stalk back the way he came, grateful, asever, for the wide sweep of his greatcoat, the padded shoulders making him feelless—small.He’s halfway out of the room (and what a waste of space) when what he said mustcatch up with Ren: “You mean you…never?”He freezes, every muscle in his body tensing. Won’t say it out loud. No, heemphasizes, clear as he can. Knowing Ren will hear, knowing he will see itregardless, terrible nosy busybody that he is. I haven’t.

- Bombshellby @cosleia        Departmentstore employee Ben Organa learns something new about the gorgeous redhead whoalways requests his help selecting lingerie.

- Touchby @kyluxtrashpit         When Huxfinds himself falling into bed with Kylo Ren, he wants nothing more than tocompletely take Ren apart. He finds a way to do just that.

- Carpetburns by @ellstra   Hux’sfascination with Imperial officers is not only professional. Kylo decides Huxdeserves to relieve the pressure of command for once, and buys an Imperialuniform from Space ebay™.

- In myveins by @ellstra           Hux hadbeen hiding his Force-sensitivity for years, using it sparsely and with greatcaution, but it only takes one mission gone wrong and all his carefully builtdefences shatter to protect Kylo. Snoke is always eager to use up all power hecan get.

- Understandingby @onewhositswiththeturtles       Throughthe Force Rey accidentally witnesses an intimate moment between her twogreatest enemies, Kylo Ren and General Hux. Despite her hatred towards the twomen for what they’ve done to the Resistance, Rey is forced to learn andunderstand that everyone is fighting for something.

- LifeThrough Glass by @moonwalkingcrab     Hux’s life is fairly simple, he has his work, he has his cat, and he has hisflat. Now it seems he has a new neighbour. With windows so close together it’seasy to fall into the world of Kylo Ren.      

-and lead us not into temptation by @liesmythHux looks him up and down, this Resistance golden boy, gangly and ungraceful and so appallingly soft. Takes a drag of his cigarette. “You’re weak,” he says.Solo looks up at him. “Please.” He draws in a long, broken breath. “Please.” Or: General Hux thinks about Ben Solo a lot more than he probably should.

- The Interrogation Game by @jinxedambitions    Kylo Ren finds himself strapped to his own interrogation table, getting a lesson from General Hux.  Pain isn’t the only interrogation technique, perhaps not even the most effective.  Strapped down with nowhere to go, Kylo is at Hux’s mercy.  If he just tells Hux what he wants to hear, he might find relief from this overwhelming pleasure…but it isn’t that simple.

- Forceless by @sinningsquire  Ren has lost the one thing that defined him from before he was even born. Somehow this results in a mad dash through the Galaxy, with more bloodshed that two men should be able to bring on, and with one happy ending under a starry canopy of a summer night.     

- Like a Vicious Dove by @thevulcanpresidentIt has been a year since Hux destroyed Snoke and took the galaxy for his own, a year since Kylo Ren pledged his service to the new emperor. When Hux gets kidnapped, he trusts his knight to rescue him. 

- Rule by @thez1337After the events on the rebel base, and the escape of some of the highest commanding rebel leaders, Kylo Ren takes Snokes place as head of the First Order. General Hux seeths, and his own secret ambition at ruling the Galaxy isn’t quite so secret.      

- All’s Fair… by @nonsensicalsoliloquy    "You missed me.“  Hux frowned, “I did not miss you, Ren. I didn’t miss your arrogance, petulance, or destruction of my ship anymore than you missed me and my refusal to cow to your whims.“  Ren only leaned in closer, his frustratingly large body nearly flush with Hux’s slender one. "What makes you think I didn’t miss you?”OR: The tension’s been building and building seemingly every day since the moment they met, and it appeared as if Ren had decided it was time it ended.  

- Take Me or Leave Me by kyluxicle (LadyCamillus), oorsprong    When Kylo Ren returns from training with Leader Snoke, he comes back more collected and focused. While Hux appreciates this newfound control, he misses the passion that Ren used to have—especially towards him. In attempt to get Ren back into his bed, Hux sets his sights on a lesser officer in order to bring out Ren’s jealousy. Either Ren will snap out of this cold persona and take him back, or Hux will have to settle for less.  

- Politics by @sithofrenHux has an unusual request for his birthday. He wants to ‘capture’ Senator Organa-Solo. Kylo Ren agrees.

- Game Over by @onewhositswiththeturtlesHux has a combat simulation program developed for all First Order personnel and has a sim of himself as the final boss. He congratulates himself when the program becomes a massive success, unaware of the fact that hackers have changed the coding to dress his sim in increasingly scandalous outfits. When Hux finds out that Ren is spending a large amount of time in the sim he gets suspicious and pulls up the video logs of Ren’s sessions, only to realize that Ren is seeking much more than combat training from Hux’s sim. After some thought and planning, Hux decides to give Ren the real thing.

- The Lingerie Incident by @thesunandoceanblue  Hux doesn’t want to be thinking of Leia while he’s tugging down his pants. Instead he thinks of Kylo, and how he’d react to this. He’d be terribly jealous. His secret revealed. To his mother of all people. Hux grimaces in amusement as he shimmies his pants down with one hand, the other holding his coat.    

- Fractured by @kyluxtrashpitWhen Kylo returns from a meeting with his master broken and wrong, it becomes clear that Snoke has gone too far. Hux is left to not only pick up the pieces, but to put them back together again while considering the past and the future.

- Generosity by  orphan_account                Dressed down to his undershirt – which had become far too crinkled for his taste – Hux sported his uniform pants, minus the boots, however, left in his warm, black bed socks (He doesn’t like cold, okay?). And he also had his tongue buried in Kylo Ren’s ass.

- Sweet Redolence by @jakathineWhat happens when the desire to best your opponent turns into a desire to bed them instead…and then fate pushes you together rather Forcefully.

- A Vulpine by any other Name by levitheking & @omega-hux   Hux wasn’t fully Human, his Vulpine Heritage plain as day with his ears and tail. His new co-commander turns out to be a Vulpine as well. Tensions are high and compromises must be made. Until Hux comes up with his most devious plan yet.

- My Own Breath by @saltandlimesHux has only ever caught glimpses of Kylo Ren’s face, short moments when the knight’s helmet is off. After an incident in the hangar, he realizes he needs to see more.

- Matches to Paper Dolls  by @ctheneOn a mission from Supreme Leader Snoke to recover a lost Jedi artifact from the Smuggler’s Moon of Nar Shaddaa, Kylo Ren and General Hux are accidentally drugged.  In addition to spice, it seems, the Hutt crime lord Grakkus was also a purveyor of powerful black market aphrodisiacs. With no choice but to copulate immediately, Hux must talk a terrified virgin Ren through the whole unpleasant, humiliating process.  Upon returning to the Finalizer, Hux is ready to pretend nothing happened.  Ren, however, deeply affected by Hux’s kindness to him throughout the ordeal, can’t put the experience behind him so easily.

- Who’s Your Master? by @groffictionHux murmured softly, “You don’t need punishment tonight, Ren. You need rest.”“But, I want… I want this… need this,” Kylo protested weakly, reaching around to nuzzle at Hux’s boots.

- tender is the night lying by your side by @thethespacecoyote    Emperor Hux misses his mate dearly, even when he’s away clinching their reign. Thankfully, an alpha as powerful as Kylo Ren can overcome even the furthest reaches of the galaxy to tend to his omega’s desires.      

- Forced Perspective by @gamebird   Kylo Ren and Hux are stranded on a jungle world after negotiations go bad. Kylo is badly wounded, his life resting in Hux’s treacherous hands. His take on the reasons for his survival are very different from Hux’s. 

- Chosen Ones by @babbushkaIn the middle of the night memories come rushing back, thankfully Hux and Kylo have each other to hold when they do.  

- Zip it by @centurytwitch   Hux feels that his contributions to the First Order are worthy of an award. He’s not expecting a new rank, though that would be nice. What he really wants is a new uniform to acknowledge the mental wear and tear he endures, the duty he fulfills every cycle.Kylo thinks otherwise.    

- Putting you Back Together but Betterby @techiehuxThere is value to Hux yet, besides being a minor nuisance and occasional source of entertainment. With a few… improvements, he could be ferocious on the battlefield, commanding respect and demanding it in turn.

- No Rest for the Wicked by @embershx​Kylo sees Hux sleeping in their bed and can’t help himself.

- The Escape of the Fox by @theweddingofthefoxes       After the First Order is defeated and Rey becomes Leia’s heir, Kylo Ren and General Hux are both fugitives, and they haven’t seen one another in years. Ren settles into a hermetic existence selling kyber, but when he learns Hux is still alive, he goes to find him under the pretense of staging a coup. But there’s another reason he wants to see Hux again….

I’m going to leave it there! I’ve been at this list on-and-off for about 2 hours, looking through my bookmarks and favourites, and there are still a tonne more but this felt enough to satiate you, anon! Remember, this list is just my personal recommendation of what I believe are must-read fics for a newcomer! They’re fun, they’re all written brilliantly and all amazingly represent the two space nerds that we love!

I’ll make a part 2 if anyone is interested but for now, happy reading!!! ❤️

[sirro85-blog]

Humans are Space Orcs

Part 5

Kneeling on the floor of the shuttle beside Kovac's body Wolf ripped open the medical kit and pulled out the TPAK needles and looked at the laminate instructions. He couldn't hear Panther over the screaming in his own head. Grabbing the first of the needles he unscrewed the cap and pressed his fingers into Kovac's chest, counting ribs, pointing his finger at the appropriate site he put the needle against the skin and pushed, it punctured the skin and drove into the muscle, once it was secure he drew the needle out and made it safe, nothing happened he checked the instructions again. Tissue embolus, snatching up the syringe he drew air into it and connected it to the needle. He depressed the plunger and when he detached the syringe he was rewarded with a prolonged hiss of air. He repeated it on the other side of the ribcage.

Knickers who had been trying to ventilate Kovac looked up with relief as Kovac drew a shallow breath. He drew two shuddering breaths and his breathing again started getting shallower.

Becca stared at the shuttle as it landed, behind her susserations passed through the unit as the whisper repeated themselves. "Kovac is dead?" "Kovac is dead!" Kovac can't be dead" "Kovac isn't dead!" "Kovac is dead" "Kovac..." "The Major..." her hands shook and she fought the urge to vomit. Her mouth was dry, her eyes burned, she had a metallic taste in her mouth and the tip of her nose seemed to tingle.

The doors to the shuttle opened, Wolf stepped out, a bound and gagged Flet chained to him and Panther. Gray, Ocampo Hemming and Richards stepped out. Then came a stretcher, beside it was Petra pale and tired looking. On the other side was Knickers who was staring at the Major's face till she stepped aside to let Dana and Staff King assess him. Then she looked up till she found Becca's face in the crowd.

"Massive left sided pneumothorax with resultant lower right atelectasis, hypovolaemic, query 2 minute episode of apnoea, sats 97 on 15 litres" Petra rattled off as Frank ran alongside the trolley.

Becca could still hear Petra talking as the doors swung shut on the med-bay. Wolf appeared at her side and gently steered her away from the crowd of soldiers into the side room. She managed two more strides before her knees gave way. Wolf guided her into a chair as she opened her mouth to scream and no sound came out. Trembling violently she felt Wolf's arms wrap tightly around her.

How long she they stayed like that Becca didn't know, but eventually she looked up to see Sergeant Panther, Captains Dorman, and Gillespie sitting in the room, standing leaning against the wall were Sergeants Fluke and Webb. Becca realised she was squeezing Wolf's arm with both hands, her nails had dug deep enough to draw blood from his wrist. Her fingers ached as she unclenched them. Wordlessly Panther poured her a glass of rum and passed it across, Becca downed it in one.

The door opened and a sombre looking Dana walked in, she looked at Wolf and then Dorman before crossing to stand infront of Becca.

"He's stable, we've repaired his lung but during the surgery...His heart stopped, he was down for nearly a minute. We'll have to run some tests when, if he wakes up."

Becca nodded numbly and tried to speak, she cleared her throat and tried again. "Thank you Dana, where's Frank?"

"Draining his last bottle of Courvoisier XO, I don't think he liked the part where the Major died." Dana's tone sounded angry.

"The problem with being the sort of man that earns love and loyalty like Kovac is people get upset when you die on them." Dorman said calmly, "I keep telling him he should try being unlikable like me."

"Does that mean I'm in command as senior officer?" Asked Gillespie, he winked at Becca and then Panther, "I think I'll reinstate prima nocta."

"Alright but Panther would break you little man," Becca said with a half-smile.

The officers began to talk and laugh, Dorman sent out the sergeants to talk to the men.

"She blames herself," Wolf said looking after Panther, "he was shielding her when he took the bolt."

Two days later Staff Sergeant King was glaring at the Major as he blew into a tube, "until I discharge you I am your commanding officer, I am emperor, king, high priestess and the Lord thy God, you can charm me all you want you mangy Scotch git, you are recuperating properly and doing your exercises."

"I'd tell you to get your oral fixation examined Frank but if blowing on this tube ten times a day will make you happy I'll do it. I will not be waiting over a month to heal naturally, now give me the AHMs so I can get on with my plan or I'll convince Angie to sneak me some, you know she'll do it too, and she'll take Petra down with her."

"If you have any kidney function left when this is all over I'll be amazed. Once this is resolved, I want you to come in for physio and a full medical check up."

"Once this is done I'll even let you check my prostate," Kovac grinned again.

The following morning Kovac laid in his bed while his officers sat around the room, Kovac asked about the prisoner.

"She seems willing to listen to us, I think she believes we can be manipulated." Dorman answered.

"I get the impression she is a little startled by the effectiveness of our raid and her capture. Our success has her worried."

"A huge success if you discount the Major's little problems," said Becca with a sneer.

"Everyone makes a fuss, i got injured. Hardly a fault of the mission, overall it was a complete success." Kovac replied.

"A complete success!? You fucking died!"

"Everybody makes a fuss," Kovac responded drawing a laugh from the others, Becca scowled.

Humans have a strange tendency to react to situations at a seemingly disproportionate level, small splits to their skin or a small shock can leave them "literally dying" an example of hyperbole. Kovac needing to be resuscitated on the operating table meant he said the injuries he had sustained, weren't ones he would reccomend.

The only thing bigger than a human's flair for the dramatic is a human's ability to down play something.

Kovac entered the room where the hostage was held, she eyed him as he crossed the room and as he sat in a chair she spoke.

"Major Radovan Kovac, formerly of the United Nations Galactic Defence Force then of the Galactic Council Defence Force and now leader of the human mercenary unit known as the Dark Horses, born Glasgow, Scotland in the year..."

"Impressive, you're Lorastayil claimant to the position of heir to the throne of the Flet Imperium, current prisoner to Major Kovac and judging by the speed of your heart, terrified of me no matter how calm you pretend to be," Kovac interrupted.

"My heart rate?" Lorastayil asked.

"The clip on your nose is taking measurements for us," Kovac raised a hand to silence the Flet. "Listen Kitty, we had a plan, it was simple, we use you to get to the rest of the royals and then we take all four of you out, we slip away into the darkness and watch as the rest of the royals fall apart trying to claim the top spot on the rubble, it would work. Believe me, I know how to topple governments I've done it before and Wolf, he's done it even more than me.

You know Wolf, he's the one that makes your heart skip a beat every time he glares at you, he has that effect on people."

Lorastayil stayed silent but her eyes never left Kovac's face, "however," Kovac continued, "while I'm sure pulling our plan off correctly would have been an end to this I'm not sure we would have achieved it without some losses and I've already lost one soldier over this, I'm not prepared to have another die to keep me alive, ironically it took dying to formalize my thoughts on this."

"The Flet Imperium," began the Flet.

"Oh do be quiet, the "Imperium" is barely two systems across and the only reason you get to keep it is because nobody wants it, everytime you've gotten expansionist the GCDF has slapped you down with one hand. You're a rogue state and the royal family makes you an easy mark to the sort of units that Wolf and I used to run, if I didn't care about collateral damage I'd break your little civilisation to teach you a lesson."

The Flet glared at Kovac and the Major held her gaze, "I have a plan however, one that keeps you alive, keeps my soldiers alive and puts an end to this."

Struggling to contain her anger Lorastayil stayed quiet for a few seconds before asking, "and what is this clever plan?"

"You take me back to Venita all the way to your capitol Genetry, we walk into the Royal Palace and you give me over to the Queen as your prisoner, you earn your place as heir apparent and the royal family win public support, I'm executed and my men are left alone. Now my men won't be happy about this, but because I'll do this voluntarily it'll hopefully take the edge off enough that they don't seek revenge."

"You'd die willingly?" Lorastayil asked her tone doubtful.

"No, not willingly but I'll accept it, better me than one of my men, that's the trick of being in command, my duty is to them, my leadership is the service I give them." He gave a sigh, "do you accept?"

"I have a choice?"

"Of course, I could always torture you till you agree to my first plan and we break your civilisation, not much of a choice but a choice none the less."

Kovac couldn't have successfully moved Lorastayil onto a shuttle secretly without assistance from Wolf, it appeared that Wolf was fully informed of the plan because as Kovac boarded the Shuttle I witnessed the two pause, shake hands solemnly and then part with a nod. An interaction I had never seen between the two of them before.

Unlike the human home planet, the Flet planet of Venita had developed as almost entirely a rainforest, since industrialisation much of the planet's growth had been cut back but it still retained it's verdant appearance. Even the capitol city of Gentry had a lot of green spaces. And in the centre, shining in the sunlight was the Royal palace, it's direct translation to human would be "glass" although the building was built from quartz.

Kovac walked with his head held high, for all appearances enjoying the view of the rain wet building gleaming in the sunlight. Kovac looked out of place in the light, bright building, wearing dark military fatigues his booted feet rang loud as he walked down the hallway. Around him walked his guards, soft footed and silent, despite their height and mass being greater than the human's they seemed diminished by him, or perhaps that was only my perception.

They paused before the great door to the hall, Lorastayil suddenly intense as she stared at Kovac.

"Do you want to die human? You seem at great ease."

"No, no I don't, I wish this could have worked out another way." He looked around, "it's beautiful here," he remarked absently, "I don't want to die but none of us choose how we die, even those poor souls who take their own life do so as a symptom of a disease often as not, the only thing you get a choice over is how you face your death. I'll stand on my own two feet and look it in the eye thank you." He gestured to the door, "shall we?"

The Flet Imperium is a culture devoid of much of the trappings of power that other civilisations cultivate. Pomp and ceremony; grandiose displays of power and privilege are not seen in the Flet royal court. In brief order Lorastayil was welcomed back, Kovac introduced and sentenced to death.

Kovac grinned up at the Queen and with a sudden movement had darted past the two large Kitty's that were nominally his guards.

"You know, I have read something of your culture and your laws, something the humans have known for Millenia 'know your enemy' a concept not respected by your finer military minds." Kovac stopped several feet from the throne, his guards closed in but hesitated to restrain him.

"For example, I know that Flet instinct will always be to trust in your claws not your hand held weapons, which puts the two guarding me at a disadvantage, while they are still suppressing the urge to resort to claws, I can instinctively fight with anything, in my reach...ask me about a pineapple sometime." As if to illustrate this point Kovac moved.

He sprang to his left into the nearest guard knocking it off balance, he butted his forehead into the side of its jaw with enough force to cause rotation of the head, the Flet spilled it's weapon and stumbled back. Kovac snatched up the dropped power lance but knowing he lacked the appropriate number of limbs to fire the weapon didn't pause in his movement but instead threw it hard as he could at the second guard who was still fumbling with its own power lance. The Kitty stumbled back and Kovac followed up with a flying knee to it's sternum knocking it flat.

As suddenly as he had moved he was still again, Kovac spread his arms wide as more guards converged on him.

"You see when I say I know you, I know you, so when I say I demand trial by combat, I know you are obliged to meet my demand and decide my fate inside the 'ring' as it were."

The Queen watched Kovac and gave a silent yawn, the Flet equivalent of a smile. "You may think you know us Major, however the demand for trial by combat is only something I'm obliged to honour if you are a subject, and that little display was designed to provoke me, provoke my anger but not all Flet are slaves to their rage." She raised two arms and then with another silent yawn gestured at her guards, "kill him."

Kovac backed up quickly out of the semi-circle of approaching guards, Lorastayil was watching him as more guards entered. Kovac produced a small curved blade, seemingly from nowhere and looked at the Flet heir.

"You know I rather liked the idea of meeting death while standing, but what I think I've always known is I'm going to go out kicking and screaming and fighting all the way." He looked around at the guards who were raising their power lance and I saw his weight shift.

Shots rang out, not the muted pop of a power lance but the sharp crack of human rifles. Several of the Flet guards dropped to the ground, Kovac was already moving towards the nearest Flet when Captain Wolf led the assault on the rear of the guard unit. From my vantage point of multiple awarenesses I saw Captain Becca kneeling just inside the entrance to the hallway and taking aim at the Flet queen. Sergeant Panther flanked by Barbie and Buckets closed in on one of the heirs, rifle shots ringing out everywhere.

Kovac my have been wrong about the precise laws and customs of the Flet but he wasn't wrong about their instincts, caught by surprise many of the Kitty guards dropped their power lances, instinctively wanting to use their own claws when provoked. Those that held onto their weapons were still slow in responding with fire themselves.

Kovac had already attacked the two nearest Flet his karambit knife slashing open throats and major blood vessels as he burst through the circle.

Captain Dorman led his troop in through the side entrance and more shots echoed through the hall. Kovac grabbed Lorastayil and forced her against a wall, the larger being letting the smaller human manhandle her. Their frantic conversation lost to the gun battle.

Moments later the hall fell silent, as the last Flet fell, two humans were down but both were moving, Petra and Angie moved between them and Sergeant Webb organised a stretcher team. Captain Becca began shouting orders and Sergeant Panther led the soldiers of 2 Troop out of the great hall.

Wolf reached Kovac and looked down at the dead Lorastayil, "She declined my offer of peace," Kovac said with regret in his voice. Looking up at his captain Kovac gestured around, "I thought you understood my reasons for not doing something like this?"

Wolf pulled Kovac across the hall his men closing in around them, "Oh I did, but the idea that a man was willing to lay down his life for the protection of his soldiers, well I have this feeling that sort of man is the sort I'd like to keep alive."

In the distance explosions boomed out as Captain Gillespie's mortar unit laid down sporadic fire across the military barracks.

"Your men were in agreement when I told them what you planned, apart from Staff King, he says he's saved you enough recently and stayed behind."

They hurried onto the extraction ship and as Captain Dorman counted his men back on Kovac looked around at his soldiers, his expression unreadable.

Captain Becca approached him and the ship went silent as she reached him and then punched him in the face.

"You bastard! She screamed, I nearly lost you and the first thing you did in response was try and get yourself killed!?" She drew back her fist again but Wolf and Panther restrained her, men laughed and Kovac pinching his bleeding nose approached his officers.

The time for awkward thank yous was later, they were still in Flet space now.

"The Frell sent us pass codes they...happened to have," Dorman said to Kovac's unasked question. "Once we were inside their airspace they have almost no security."

"Major have we started another war? What will happen next?" Gillespie asked, loud enough for the soldiers to listen in.

"Maybe, but I don't think so, I think the political powers will enjoy the loss of a faction from their halls of power and I think that whoever finally claims the empty royal throne, they'll be slightly grateful to us for getting them there and if not...they'll think long and hard before they decide to fuck with the Dark Horses again."

The End.

[marisakage]

Hi there, Abby! @yunsoh I think this is my first time ever talking to you. Technically, this is a recommendation-turned-into-an-analysis post (I hope you don't mind).

So the other day, I came across a vocaloid music video called Bitter Chocolate Decoration.

Now that came outta nowhere, right? It has been ages since I've last listened to a vocaloid song but surprisingly enough this one resonated with me to a big extent.

You'd wonder why would this particular video hits real close to home. Well, that's simply because I regard this as Yuki's perspective towards society and his toxic relationship with his mother/Akito.

When you look into the lyrics, it clearly visualizes impossible-to-express emotions and emphasizes the arduousness of fitting into the world.

The kid in the MV was basically taught by his mother/caretaker to be a flawless person despite him not being comfortable with it.

He tried so hard to be what society always expects us to be, humble, altruistic, social, and selfless.

But being perfect made him unable to express himself which pushed him into shutting down his emotions, bottling up his feelings and suppressing his own thoughts. He ended up imprisoning himself and as time passed by he grew to accept the collar that has been choking him as a reality of his life resulting in him losing his identity.

There are instances in the MV where you can spot the kid wearing a VR headset and wires basically scattered everywhere. It's my own interpretation but I think they might signify the fact he has always borne the thought his whole life seemed real but in fact it was fake all along. The wires are what keeps the VR functioning and metaphorically speaking that might represent our society.

The visuals reminded me of how abusive Akito was towards Yuki. This might be not subtle at all but it's almost as if the caretaker in the MV is stuffing food into his mouth against his own will. Food represents what society expects us to be, in other words idealism. The kid was reluctant at first but later he felt so hopeless and gave up.

He followed everything meticulously in order to become an 'adult' while trying to the best of his abilities to maintain his sanity. Because being an impostor drives one insane and being someone else other than yourself is suffocating. This has turned him into a controlled puppet, a marionette or for a better choice of words a slave.

I'm not trying to imply that Yuki is like the kid from the MV but rather the noxious relationship both parties share.

Yuki has been abused by Akito all his childhood. The stuffed food you see in the MV represents that kind of sick and ill treatment Akito has been displaying.

Being ostracized, having to endure harsh and discouraging words on a daily basis, getting rejected by your mother and your brother when you especially seeked help from them. All of this has caused Yuki to have a very low self-esteem. No matter what he does, he remains convinced that he's a good-for-nothing person.

So faking his own personality while suppressing his needs and keeping a distance from others is what he resolved to do.

The only authentic and real feeling he's been expressing so far is his jealousy towards Kyo. He probably didn't want to end up being a shell devoid of emotions so the only thing he wanted to hold onto is what he feels towards Kyo. Kyo has always been a scapegoat after all (I feel so bad for him). But besides the point, Yuki's been trying so hard to please everyone in fear of getting rejected the way he did by his mother and his brother. Just the thought makes him feel nauseated. He's been not only bound by the curse but also by society and how it regards him.

The scars and the wounds made by Akito and his actual mother prohibited him from moving on. Almost getting an anxiety attack in a closed space is proof that he's always been haunted by them which shows how nasty and agonizing their kinship is.

It's been obvious how he tries to escape from the shackles; Akito; by picking his highschool and later deciding his future career. Normally, everyone would want to fit in but in his case it drastically went for the worst aggravating his self-deprecating. That's why being a perfect version of yourself can drive you insane and having to shoulder expectations coming from every corner is torture to say the least.

He didn't snap or anything because he thinks he has no rights to express himself, after all he's a pathetic and a worthless person who doesn't deserve people's attention and empathy let alone the affection everyone craves for.

Yet witnessing before his eyes the way Kyo and Tohru interact with each others made him realize how superficial and fake his life is (throwback to VR and the wires) and how his efforts will never bear fruit.

He struggles to please everyone but at the same time he thinks he's undeserving of feeling loved. It really is lonely but what makes things worse for him is that he; a despicable being; strives to have that kind of connection. That goes to show the depth of his wounds and how emotionally scarred he is. To belittle himself to that extent really proves how traumatizing his experience with Akito is.

And frankly speaking if it wasn't for Tohru, he would have ended up like the kid from the MV a lifeless "puppet" dominated by both society and Akito. He attempted everything in order to break free from their grasping fangs but his efforts were futile leaving him in a rather exasperated state.

But you know what, that's one of the many things that I appreciate about Yuki's character and that's because he didn't want to lose hope. He struggled in his own way to find meaning in his existence even when he knows that he's not worth it, he's human and having such a humane feeling is absolutely normal.

Everyone seeks to find their own purpose and so does he hence he projected a subconscious image that prompts him to do so: "hatred".

He doesn't care so long it serves him as a purpose because he's scared of living meaninglessly but it turned out that what he's been missing out all this time was "love"

Love as in supporting someone else who's as flawed as you. He's been the only one receiving love and he's thankful for it but now that he grew accustomed to this foreign feeling, he started to strive to be the kind of person Tohru is. A person who gives meaning to someone else's life cuz definitely that act in itself will give a meaning to yours.

The act of repairing the other's broken pieces will definitely repair yours in return. That's what love is, it's staying by your most important person's side and helping them chin up regardless of how low they think of themselves while at the same time coming to terms with your tragic past and healing your scars. Loving someone else equals loving your own self, it's an indirect way of pampering your injured soul. An endless cycle.

Sharing that sacred feeling is what gives people a purpose in life and this is what Yuki has realized after receiving it from Tohru. He wants to become that person even if he's scarred and flawed. He wants to support whoever's in dire need and prevent them from falling in the depths of darkness so they don't end up like him, and that person happened to be Machi. Both of them saved one another, Machi gave purpose to Yuki's life and Yuki helped Machi open up and accept the fact that nobody is perfect and that having flaws is what makes us humans.

I don't even know how I ended up deviating so much from the main point but simply put that MV reminds me a lot of Yuki from when he was a child and how sickening and revolting his bond is with Akito and society in general. I apologize for this wall of text but I really couldn't help sharing my thoughts with you especially when you're one of my favorite bloggers.