#i wrote all this at 3am

[consumed-by-fandom]

MY ARGUMENT FOR WHY LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO BY TAYLOR SWIFT FITS OSWALD COBBLEPOT A LITTLE TOO WELL

So people seemed quite interested in my thoughts on this sooo here ya go! :p

Spoilers for Gotham (2014) obvs

For context the song fits with Oswald’s Season 3 Arc, where he becomes mayor of Gotham and is taken down and killed by Edward after Oswald kills Ed’s ‘weird ass totally-a-clone-of-his-dead-ex’ girlfriend, Isabella. Oswald survives because of course he does, and plots his revenge against Ed for the rest of the season. AND HE FUCKING GETS IT BECAUSE HES OSWALD FUCKING COBBLEPOT

Anyway lets get into the lyrics shall we?

First off, Riddler is known for his games and puzzles, and in particular his whole revenge plan might have been seen as a game to both of them, with Ed seeing it as a strategic game to destroy Oswald, and Oswald seeing it as a childish game played unfairly to Ed’s own agenda. The tilted stage also ties to Riddler’s showmanship and love of being in the spotlight, as well as how, to Oswald’s perspective, he’s putting himself up on a pedestal while criticising Oswald despite everything Oswald has done for him (I think Oswald definitely saw Isabella’s murder as an act of kindness or love, the latter might be canon too?) Oswald being forced to play the fool is pretty self-explanatory, he was thrown through the rings of Ed’s deception and tests none the wiser to Ed being the culprit.

I think even Oswald would have to admit that Ed outplayed him, using everything he knew about Oswald, all his weaknesses and vulnerabilities, to completely ruin his life and prove a point (even if that point got disproven because he accidentally proved Oswald WAS capable of real love lmao) And how Oswald, as paranoid and wary as he is, still did not believe for a second that Ed would betray him. (This is unrelated but Oswald’s trust issues is so sad to see because as the show goes on he gets increasingly more distrustful of others and by season 5 it doesn’t take much for him to go “YOUVE BETRAYED ME I FUCKING KNEW IT” poor lad). Anyway Ed is a pro at shit eating grins, and has no qualms lying to others, something I think hurts Oswald even more because he always believed that they’d be honest with one another (even though he went behind Ed’s back… hes a bit of a hypocrite guys) But Ed is also one to gloat and mock, perhaps even more than Oswald, and he definitely rubs it in Oswald’s face when he reveals that it was his plan all along, that he was behind everything. Stretching a bit with the gun here but I like to think that Oswald believed they were always on the same page, that Oswald would always call the shots so to speak, that he was the one in control. Ironically it was the shot that Oswald took that pushed Ed to take a shot of his own (i am NOT sorry for the wordplay >:] )

Speaking of wordplay. “Isn’t cool” Ahahah. Get it. Cuz. Cuz ed gets… anyway.

What does Oswald Cobblepot do best when wronged? Plan an elaborate revenge scheme of course! He learns from his mistakes, learns more about who Edward is as a person, and also learns not to let love weaken him :,). His revenge against him does what Ed initially did to him - use his flaws and characteristics to his advantage. And Oswald PLAYS HIM LIKE A FIDDLE by practically leading him to his doom, right until the reveal by the pier. Him escaping death is also surprisingly common for him, surviving from the pier not once, but TWICE by this point in the show. Not to mention all the other murder attempts on his life. The list of names would relate to Oswald’s growing enemies, his revenge hitlist so to speak, with Ed being at the very top for obvious reasons.

I think Oswald would definitely blame other people for his behaviour. Like “you made me this way, you provoked me, you forced my hand.” No dude you just love murder and vengeance get over urself. I MEAN he probably knows he’s ‘just like that’ but he’d still blame people anyway lmao.

When Ed got shipped to Arkham for girlfriend strangling and cop killing Oswald eventually got him out so he could be by his side as he campaigned for mayor of gotham, and he was pretty dedicated to being there for Ed as Ed was for him, even including him in paintings and promoting him to chief of staff. He loved him so much, and would do anything for him (even if it meant doing what he thought was for his benefit. Like killing girlfriends.) So naturally Ed ruining his life and then going off and making a name for himself as the Riddler would absolutely piss Oswald off, because to Oswald he had been so generous and a good friend/potential life partner, and this was the thanks he gets? I could also see Riddler’s rise to prominence as something Oswald would be jealous of, because thats his crime spotlight he’s stealing dammit!

Also. Also Ed stole the keys to his heart ahahahAGUGHUGHUHGAHGHH

Gotham is full of drama all day everyday 24/7, I have to imagine even Oswald gets sick of it after a while lol. Anyway he’s very good at losing himself to his own plans and thoughts driven by his emotions, pushing the rest of the world aside so he can solely focus on his revenge. He never forgets a grudge, he always gets what’s “deserved” to him (and he’s actually really good at getting revenge too, using Ed’s eventual sentence as an example). Ironically that also fits with how Oswald got his punishment for Isabella’s death, but now he’s paid the price, its Ed’s turn (and anyone else who Oswald had a vendetta against at the time. Which was probably a lot of people idk Oswald makes a lot of enemies in the show)

Again, Oswald has MAJOR trust issues and this paranoid only grows as the show goes on and more people betray or leave him. He’s also pretty sly himself, and if his plans include completely screwing you over for whatever reason, you better bet he’s going to do it.

As for the latter lyric…

Do i even need to explain this one?

There isn’t much I can link for this it just seems like something Oswald would say lmao

Aaaaaand thats all! I didn’t go over repeating choruses for obvious reasons, but that’s my own brainrot explanation for why this song fits him soooo well. Now if you’ll excuse me i’m going to daydream about the animation that would go to this that I’ll probably never do.

[sinfullyrosey]

Y/N, looking at Azul’s baby picture: Oh wow, you were so shaped. So squishy and soft. Full of so much chub to love.

Azul: What are you talking about?? I was a fat, ugly octopus!

Y/N: Fat? Yes. Ugly? No. You were a proper butterball, of whom I would have held and kneaded like dough. Bake you right into an adorable cutiepie.~

Azul: I don’t know what is wrong with your brain and eyes, but I most certainly was not adorable as a kid! Now give me that- *tries to swipe back the picture*

Y/N, dodging him: Nope. You were lovable and round and oh-so baby.~

Azul: I was unlovable! Not like I am now!

Y/N: Oh shut up, that’s just the insecurities and unresolved childhood trauma talking!

Azul: My younger self would ink himself if he saw me now!

Y/N: You peaked in your childhood and will never reach that same level of endearment until you reclaim the chub you so foolishly threw away.

Azul: . . .

Y/N: Your childhood longing is calling, Azul. Answer it.

[Jade and Floyd watching this all go down in the doorway]

Floyd, shoveling popcorn into his mouth: Yeah, Azul, answer it!

Jade: Yes, heed their words, Azul, so that we can partake in your chub too.~

[laundrybiscuits]

(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)

Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 

“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 

He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”

“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”

“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 

Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”

“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”

“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”

Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”

The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.

“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 

“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”

———

It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  

“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”

“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”

“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.

“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.

“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”

“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”

“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.

“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 

“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”

Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.

“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 

“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”

“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 

“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”

“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”

“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”

“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”

“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”

“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”

“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”

Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”

“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.

[flowerful-doodles]

Close enough, welcome back Sunset

[dredgesnails]

i don’t think jimmy’s broken his canary curse. i think it’s just been evolving, slowly, and he’s figuring out how to work with it instead of trying to fight it. hear me out:

3rd life - flower husbands. jimmy dies first. scott is 10th out in the series, the only time he places outside of the top 5

last life - the southlanders. jimmy is first out. mumbo is out next in quick succession. impulse dies shortly after. the only southlanders to make it into the top 10 are grian, who killed jimmy and mumbo (and still only ranks 7) and martyn, who left the southlanders for the shadow alliance

double life - ranchers. jimmy dies first, and takes tango out with him. tango is the one responsible for their first death, though

limited life - bad boys. joel wants to sacrifice himself for jimmy, but jimmy dies first before he can. joel still dies shortly after, and grian becomes a nosy neighbour, surviving to 6th

secret life - big dogs. jimmy dies second, but lizzie might be falling forever in the end so maybe he does die first. martyn is the first to yellow and red, and he dies 11th. the worst he’s ever placed. (also, mumbo dies only moments after jimmy again*)

real life - (do they have a name??). jimmy and ren’s groups get into a fight in the mines. jimmy is the only one who makes it out without dying at all. his allies are out of the series.

the canary curse isn’t about jimmy dying first. or at least, it isn’t really anymore. at first he was used to signify it, the canary dying first to warn everyone of danger ahead. but the canary has learned how to escape the coalmine now, and his friends are still stuck inside. they might survive if they have friends on the surface or they’re willing to betray their allies, but if it’s just been them and their canary to warn them of danger? then they’ve doomed themselves.

*mumbo might also have his own unique “killed ten seconds after jimmy by the same person/thing” curse, which is different from the general jimmy “bad luck charm” solidarity curse

[what-aboutno]

Big brother things

[cowboycannibalism]

Bullet with Butterfly Wings, Smashing Pumpkins// Saw 2004// Caged Rat, Soul Asylum// The Jig Is Up, Ice Nine Kills// Rats!Rats!Rats!, Deftones// Hatchet, Movements

I know there's heavy association of Adam with the dog motif (which I love) but I swear I've heard Bullet with Butterfly Wings on the radio way too many times during the last month while thinking about Saw for it to be a coincidence

Rats symbolize impoverishment, disease, the lowest of low.

"He's not a cop. He's a bottom feeder, just like you."

Jigsaw calls him angry and apathetic, and we'll be honest here, he is on the surface. He calls his apartment a shithole, he knows his job is shitty but it keeps him fed, and he's just dragging himself through life because he's pretty much already convinced himself this is as good as its going to get.

But here's the other thing about rats: they will do anything to try to survive. Sometimes, that means just doing what they've been conditioned to do by the world around them.

Have you ever seen a rat backed into a corner? or stuck in a trap? they will scream and thrash violently to try and free themselves.

From the moment he wakes up in the tub, Adam is moving. Throughout the movie, he has a hard time staying still, trying to escape, trying to survive. He is loud and frantic. Even though he is pessimistic about life, he wants to live.

also, to swing back around to the Smashing Pumpkins lyrics in particular, I thought a lot about how Adam mentions his ex, thinking he was "too angry." If you've dug into that song a little, it's interpreted in a lot of ways but a common one is oppression and being stuck in a situation/world where you're aware of escape but incapable of it. Adam knows he should appreciate life more, but what's the point when he lives the way that he does and nothing seems to ever get better? Anger feels like the only option and honestly sometimes it is.

(not to get too political or whatever, but if we never get angry enough to do anything, nothing will ever change. Don't let anyone tell you that emotions don't belong in politics/social issues because that's a fucking stupid take.)

[fablexdreams]

Rip Ben Finn, you would have loved eating cereal at 3am.

Rip Page, you would have loved debate club.

Rip Walter Beck, you would have loved the found family trope.

Rip Jasper, you would have loved the Scrub Daddy.

Rip Reaver, you would have loved red carpets and glambots.

Rip Sparrow, you would have loved a fucking break.

Rip Theresa, you would have loved The Sims.

Rip Logan, you would have loved Lexapro.

Rip HoBW, you would have loved pop music.

[imfelinefinee]

Cracking under the pressure

(Get it, cause the game is called Pressure? Hehehe-)

Pairing: Seb.as.tian Sol.ace x reader (Platonic/Romantic)

Words: 8.8K+

Warning: This chapter contain a bit more heavier tones in the story compared to my last work. Including mild violence (Heavy injury and injuring monsters via self-defence).

But aside from that, I wrote this with as much emotion as I could so there might also include heavy influences to trauma. But remains vague. Including Soft vore/safe vore too!

Please be careful when reading this, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

(Edit: I changed the warning to include more information in case someone wanted more information for possible triggering subject matter.)

NSFW DNI

Notes: Had an idea cooking in my brain, kinda overcooked it but I promise it's juicy! Also sorry I wrote this kinda long, I had too much fun writing PAInter for the first time! And don’t worry it's filled with hurt/comfort BABY

I am also working on requests, yippee

Help this doc is 22 pages longgggggg

Cranking down the door handle, mustering the strength within their body to pull their weight to an imbalance, the heavy door sent flying shut with a loud slam. A back tendril caught between the door frame, slicing off in a flimsy mess; the appendage landing with a plop, secreting a dark liquid in a mimicry of blood.

The disembodied limb moved with rigour mortis, squirming across the floor. Gazing upon the sight with a grimace, whether it be an expression of disgust or fear. They weren’t certain of themself as all they could do was sigh and mentally congratulate themself on the victory. 

Adrenaline slowly took its toll in wearing down their body’s heightened senses, calming down from the sudden fright of the attack. Only to look away, feeling regret for the creature they wounded. That it was just like them, trapped and scared down in the depths of Blacksite.

It was their stupidity that led to the event, forgetting the dangers for a mere moment and entering a room with an eye-soring light. It acted out in fear.

Harsh static quickly permeated their ear, reacting with a hiss as a hand pressed down on the earpiece in an attempt to soothe the pain. Only to let out a soft beep, signalling that something had connected to their comlink. The buzzing of the attack quickly faded upon hearing the familiar voice. 

“You don’t have to do this-... You know that, right?”. It cut through in sternness yet held a heavy level of solemnness in its speech, their tone conflicted. A mix of concern and hesitance. Yet it wasn’t seemingly directed towards them but rather the circumstances the two of them found themselves in.

To delay their response to the robotic speech, they turned their attention to the room. Revealing a circular designed hall, littered with miscellaneous storage items consisting of crates and lockers. Items scattered onto the floors of differing value, some of data. In any other instance, it would’ve been the first thing they approached. But that wasn’t their main priority given their self-assigned goal.

Treading forward with a face of determination, no one was going to convince them otherwise. No one. 

Their stubbornness was a virtue in the face of survival. however, when it came to trying to convince them of other options, they usually took the first in favour of others. It took time and patience, something they didn’t possess at the moment given they had practically arrived at their destination.

Turning towards the door with the lit number, Blacksite decided that placing their room with labelled numbers was more professional and easier than labelling the rooms with actual names in their layout plans. It really went to question their finances, which now included their design choices... 

“Wait- Wait!- WAIT!!!”, the voice over the com quickly cried out in alarm, desperately trying to call out the danger in front of them. Yet, they ignored the AI’s concerns as they pressed onwards. “Wrong door!- WRONG DOOR!!-”, it continued in its panic until they finally realised the cries all too late. 

Their hand grasped the lever, sending a wave of electrical current into their hand. Flinching from the sudden shock, pulling the hand towards their chest from the suddenness. Only for sparks to be sent flying from the malfunctioning door. The small discharge was enough of a warning to quickly retreat their hand from a full-on electric shock.

Perhaps they should’ve listened to PAInter…

Looking up towards the door’s HUD, they spot the signature expression of the animated pixels on PAInter’s face. Its chosen software was MS Paint as its canvas, perhaps not the best option but the only one seeing as it came inbuilt with Windows. They were pretty diligent in their skills too, allowing for an animated look in their speech. Thanks to their quick lines.

It glared down at them with scribbled pointed brows and circular white eyes, the mouth a large frown with sharp teeth in its display, a seething grimace. Typically used to express extreme anger as its current emotion they were feeling, directed towards them in that moment. They were in for a lecture…

“Be more careful! You Moron!...”, he berated with fury. Yet, it came from a place of care. It was their fault as they allowed their impulsiveness to take over their rational line of thinking. Finding themselves feeling scolded like a child, feeling remorse over their selfishness at that moment. Still rather new to the concept of trusting another.

“I know… I’m sorry… But- I’m not a carrot!”. They found themselves biting back sarcastically, their self-loathing turned to mock defence. Pouting playfully as they crossed their arms dramatically. Their lips in a forceful frown as they held back a smile. Teased over its use of the word ‘moron’ as it meant ‘carrot’ in another language they recognised.

“Don’t get snarky with me, Young laird! Seriously though- do you need to do this?- REALLY?”, it dramatised its last word as if to express the severity and weight of their decision. As if they were silently trying to plead with them to turn back, anxious about the possible consequences.

They weren’t going to avoid it. 

“Well, it’ll benefit the three of us. It's crucial!- We need it!- It’s not something we can pass the opportunity on…”, they spoke with a decently reasonable claim. They weren’t incorrect in that fact but the response seemed to annoy PAInter as it knew they were right but refused to put their safety first. Prioritising something rather than their life. An unnecessary risk.

“There’s a reason Sebastian’s been avoiding it!- It’s dangerous!”, they quickly warned of the dangers ahead. Which they had contemplated many times at that point, had thought it over every second of the day. And the more time they wasted not wanting to dwell on it and linger, it would be leaving Sebastian to do all of the work as more weight was put onto his shoulders.

“You think I don’t know the risks?- I do PAInter- But… I can’t just- stand around any longer! Not while you both are suffering in this stupid place! I- I owe both of you already, Sebastian is working hard to get the evidence we need and keep the two of us fed. And you are doing your best to keep Urbanshade off our backs.”. 

Sharing their inner thoughts, all the turmoil laid out on a silver platter in front of it. Their self-preservation was the last thing on their mind, prioritising those they held dear to them.

They stood their ground.

It let out an audible synthesised sigh at their words, their expression turned to more of a saddened one. PAInter speaking their name in a soft voice that they rarely heard from either of them, often keeping their tenderness hidden in favour of guardedness.  It immediately caught their attention upon the seemingly impossible in front of them.

“I- I’ve nearly killed you- Multiple times!… We’ve hurt you, not only that but you were with Urbanshade in the program...”, believing they were undeserving of the care they displayed towards the lines of code. It recounted its mistakes like a list of regrets, the past interchangeable but doing what was necessary to survive at that time.

 It pissed them off to hear it blame itself for such things.

“Hey! You listen here!- Nobody here is perfectly innocent- I can say that because I’m literally a convicted criminal… I’ve done things, not good things… But, that doesn’t mean it isn’t justified. In most cases…”, they whispered the last sentence to themselves as the past crept on them for a moment. Only to push it away,

“The moral is- people make mistakes-  things happen that we regret… But it’s in the past! The best we can do is press forward, for our sake…”. They finished their words, standing tall to show they stood behind their words.

They made sure to purposefully hint at PAInter’s sentience, humanising them and treating them like any other friend as that was what they were, a trusted loyal and good friend. One who deserved the best, and they would remind them of that as many times as they needed. 

The advice seemed to send a wave of comfort to the person in front of them, they weren’t just lines of code perfectly executing orders to achieve currency in block exchanges. It was PAInter. Small slashes in red text on its expression in a mimicry of blush, seemingly flustering the AI.

Alongside a small smile displayed on the monitor, it seemed to finally accept their ambitions as they were. Understanding their relentlessness and allowing them to go forward, ceasing their struggles to stop them. Leaving it all up to them in the decision department if they wanted to go through with it.

They had already decided the moment they stepped into the hall.

They backed away from the threatening door, now with a level of confidence in their step as they now held a sentient AI backing them up and aiding them in their mission. Approaching the correct door, watching as the adjacent door opened automatically without human authorization. PAInter silently led the way to the docking bay for them to follow.

Which was literally the next room.

The room was large and spacious, abandoned diving suits littered the hangers, the smaller lockers consisted of random work supplies. Some fell to the floor, making it look like a mess as no one left to maintain the room. But what stood out was a powerful computer in the corner with multiple monitors. 

Upon inspection, it seemed to be a survey of information on the surrounding environment outside the facility. The hud of a program displaying scanner results from the terrain mined outside, deposits of various ores only to stop on the date of the lockdown. Another was a reminder of such, a blazing red warning with a danger symbol on the front reminded them of the lockdown that held them within the facilities walls.

PAInter appeared upon another monitor in a mini window, seemingly taking over the computer's systems as it used the RAM to check every file on the PC. Perhaps searching for important information in the files, only to draw a bored expression on its face as it completed its task. Closing everything aside from the open program.

“Nothing useful in terms of information, but it does allow me to monitor the water below with the echo-locating scanners. I’ll be able to watch you a bit outside for a distance… Luckily….”. PAInter seemed to let out a sigh of relief upon learning that fact.

“Oh- Shush it! Fucking worrywart…”, having enough of his constant worrying over their wellbeing. It did so constantly whenever they weren’t around Sebastian to watch over them, taking over his role. It annoyed them as they had survived thus far, on their own! They could most certainly handle themselves in the depths of Blacksite.  

“Hey! I apologise if my concerns over your health, mental well-being, safety and entertainment over your small, fragile, accident-prone, vulnerable-”, PAInter began to list off every essential thing to a human’s health to describe the weaknesses of the human body. Reminding them how breakable they were in comparison to the horrors in the whole facility.

… 

“Don’t you dare call me inferior!”, they quickly bit back. Stomping their foot against the floor to grab its attention with a pouty lip. Bickering with it akin to a sibling, arguing without the malice in their tones. Joking with one another, turning the seriousness into a comedy bit.

“That’s Sebastian!- Not me! If we’re having this fight again- Then I’ll-”, they drew out the l in their tone as a window suddenly appeared on the screen, opening a file within a video player. Slowly dragging the cursor towards the option. The file was simply named, “Blackmail”. Seemingly playing into their comedy.

Opening it revealed a video of themselves on a webcam as the main focus, the sounds of a clicking mouse as they browsed the miscellaneous files on the computer to combat their boredom. It played like that for over a minute.

Only for the speakers to pierce the sound barrier from the loudness of their screams, the mic cutting off in the process. The framerate struggled to keep up as they jumped up with a look of fear and panic on their face, pushing away from the screen as if something were to climb out at any moment. 

What followed was a yelp as the sound of their foot colliding with something was picked up, watching as their expression looked upon the screen in horror as their head slowly disappeared off the screen, their body falling to the floor in a stupor.

They slipped.

It took a moment for them to recall the events in front of them, turning from amused confusion to one of chaotic anger. Turning to PAInter revealed a giant smiley face on the screen that it had drawn, the sheer audacity to save such a moment of weakness. PAInter was turning to the dark side, now using blackmail…

“You kept that thing?!- I thought you didn’t save shit like that on your hard drive!”, they attempted to reason against the usage of their image. PAInter often commented that it kept collections of multiple drawings and important files in their storage. Nothing like a video of them.

“I keep important things!- This is important”. It defended itself as it emphasised the seriousness and crucial thing that was their blackmail. But, to put the bit aside for a moment. It was surprisingly heartwarming that it kept memories it's like to keep close to them, including one of their silliness. That they were close enough to be deemed important to the AI.

Biting down their lip, they held back a giggle. Holding back the laughter that threatened to escape them only to let out a series of chuckles and snickers. PAInter joined in with its robotic laughter as it struggled to properly sound it out. After laughing for some time, they both decided to put their shenanigans aside for a moment. They needed to press on.

Stretching their limbs, glaring down at the main structure piece of the room. The access point that allowed the entrance of submarines, the thing that led to the outer world. A gigantic pool in the centre, a moonpool to be more specific. A room built with pressurised air that prevented the water from flooding the place.

Dripping a toe into the pool of liquid to test the waters, pulling back from the sudden change in temperature from decent numbers to the near negatives. However, they were more than accustomed to the change after diving into the flooded areas of Blacksite so many times. 

The crouch quickly changed into a sitting position with their lower calves submerged in the water, adjusting to the change like a swimming pool.

<…>

“Remember! Before you go diving in… If you’re in an emergency- Spam your comlink, I’ll.. contact Sebastian”. Making a makeshift backup plan in case a crisis or accident were to occur, making sure that they weren’t alone in their idea. No matter how naive or stupid it was. His tone held a level of worry, his uncertainty about the plan returning. 

They nodded their head in simple understanding, taking a moment to take a deep breath as they thought to themselves. They didn’t believe in looking into the details, they often sought solutions when it came to time in their plans, procrastinating until the last minute. But, the steps were simple when summarised. Plain and simple.

Putting it in retrospect, Blacksite held a small department within Blacksite that held highly classified information, valuable information. Such as possibly including details of Sebastian’s operation, the creator of PAInter’s code, and the secrets behind the inhumane experiments of Blacksite.

But it had long since fallen into a state of ruin following the lockdown, an avalanche of rock burying down the secrets never to be seen again. Or at least, it was speculated to be so. PAInter had received an SOS signal from the collapsed building, telling Sebastian about it. 

The two of them decided it was far too risky, putting off the idea in favour of their survival. Using expendables as a means of gathering the data they needed, until the two of them had met them. And so, when the two brought it up again when the two were alone. They overheard, wanting to help.

Despite the dangers of the sea life outside the facility, they decided that they were going to dive into the open waters and get into that facility, retrieve the data and hopefully get all three of them to freedom.

With Sebastian occupied, tending to his shop with expendables once again trying to make their way through, it was the perfect opportunity to strike. It would help Sebastian, who worked hard to scavenge food for them to eat, providing them with protection and a comfortable place to sleep.

Securing the mask that provided oxygen to their face, making sure that the straps were tight around their scalp. Checking the hollow flexible pipe that connected their mask to their air tanks was stable. Certain they wouldn’t have their gear malfunction whilst underwater. Which would've been a nightmare.

Tightening the strap that holstered their belt pouch, equipped with a flash beacon and medkit. Perhaps mostly to annoy Sebastian or scare off the sealife, all essentials. The suit that clung to their figure like a skin suit showed no signs of constraining them in its tightness. 

Testing their gear with a deep breath, inhaling the oxygen provided by their air tanks. Giving assurance that they would have enough time to swim in and back from the ruined rubble and that the plan would be successful. 

Glancing back towards the readied turrets that surveyed the room, acting as the makeshift eyes for PAInter to use with access to the security feed and systems. Raising their arm into view in a waving motion, giving a signal that they were about to dive.

A tight grip clung to the surface of the concrete, hesitating for a moment as the weight of it caught up with them. Yet, refused to yield as the safety provided by the concrete slipped away, pushing themselves off the edge into the water. Closing their eyes as the flow of water embraced them into its crushing depths. 

Their body shivered as they fully adjusted, the sheer cold sending shivers down their back. Adapting to the sudden change; Water flooded into their ear canal, muffling their hearing as all they would hear was the distinct sound of flowing water.

Gripping the concrete edge of the surface, they pushed themselves off of the solid ground as they dove into the large body of water. Closing their eyes as the cold sea openly embraced them in a shivering hug, water flooding into their open ear as all sounds became muffled from the blockage. 

Upon breaching the surface of the water, sinking slowly as they lay dormant. Opening their eyes to the fishes that feared their presence, swimming at high speeds away from the possible danger of a predator. The weight of the water atop them as it slowly sunk them, bubbles emerging from their mask, disappearing as quickly as they came.

It was peaceful.

A lack of light within the depths, indicating that it was likely nighttime or they were too deep into the ocean to see the clear waters, went to show how far away they truly were from the safety of home. How far they’d gone into the abyss of Urbanshade Blacksite. 

Their visibility was limited, only able to see temporarily thanks to the illuminating light above them. Once they swam away, they’d be left in the titanic cavernous space of the open sea. That they were a mere insignificant speckle of life in the vastness of the world.

To their right was a wall of stone, likely indicating they were in a cave of sorts or at least within rocky terrain but that hardly mattered as they finally adjusted to the water. Using the view above them, they turned in the direction of neon green glowing lights, an indication of the way that they were headed.

Taking their first breath underwater, their hands ahead of them as they pushed back against the clear waters. Kicking their feet with swift and rapid movements, further pushing against the current as they began to swim forward. Treading the waters, continuing as they followed the path ahead.

Until the ruins finally came into view.

Coming face to face with the sector, unveiling it before their eyes. They found themselves in awe as by some miracle it remained intact under the collapsed rubble, holding its integrity of strong metals that refused to bend under the weight of it all. 

Cracked windows lay bare in their shattered states, cracked apart as if the window was slowly revealing the secrets of Blacksite through the forcefully opened window, the secrets flowing out via drenched documents into the outer sea.

The lights that clung to their false life, barely maintaining, holding on as the source of energy was slowly stripped away from the struggling power source. Cut off from the main power supply of the crystal, using the reserved generators to function. It likely wouldn’t last much longer, feeling the need to go quickly.

One of the corners had been ripped apart in shreds, metallic structure frames torn off like a massive bite. An exposed wound, yet it acted as the perfect entrance for them.  The water flowed inwards, flooding the building but knowing Blacksite. There would be air pockets.

They hadn’t even realised that they stopped breathing, their lungs begging for the air as they took in the sight in front of them. They had been savouring the air to save it for the long haul, careful on its usage. They attempted to push back on breathing but it was required, taking another breath of air.

They couldn’t waste time.

It felt surreal being in such a large body of water, they were used to being in the cramped vents, navigating the flooded halls, and hiding away from the monsters that lurked behind them. They thought they’d seen it all, yet they couldn’t help the lingering feeling of anxiousness in their chest, fearing what was ahead of them.

Swimming through the gap, they were met with a room of server stacks. A network of data housed within, all lost due to the exposure to water. Damaging the equipment as it rotted away the inner components, all that valuable data was lost to time. Never to be seen again. 

The furniture floated within the room akin to zero gravity, desks and tables with their supplies lying above them. Paper with written pages of a person’s research, distorted as the written ink stained the papers from the exposure to the water, also lost. 

At a loss for thought and words, the idea of everything else collapsing in ruin hadn’t occurred to them until that moment. A sense of hopelessness came over them as they came to the realisation that the risk could all be in vain. 

Their thoughts went back to their two companions. Sebastian and PAInter, two of the people who helped them, cared for them down in Blacksite. Sebastian, was a man of mystery that they couldn’t decipher no matter how hard they tried to understand, only understanding the mutual relationship between the two. 

Yet he showed compassion in rare moments, showing them a means of stability. They had long since gotten attached to him, whether their intentions were romantic or platonic. There was no doubt a level of care between them. 

PAInter was one of the two who was much more open about its expressions and thoughts, developing a much more close personal relationship with them than Sebastian. The two opened up to one another, sharing laughs and moments of vulnerability between the two. Much to the dismay of Sebastian. 

They weren’t sure about Sebastian’s stance on them, regarding whether he shared the same feelings or simply viewed them as a tool for use. The thought made them feel a sense of sorrow as they wanted to learn more and get to know the person behind the mask.

The two had become family to them.

Their determination returned, not ready to give up after just looking through the first room. After all, they had a whole sector to explore. There was still hope, a chance that they were able to get something from this all. 

Spotting a standard sealed door in the corner of the room, curiosity peaked at them as they swam towards it. It was the usual door they’d see in the halls of Blacksite, non-distinguishable from the others within a high-class sector of the facility.

It usually required power to open but with the limiting power, pulling the handle didn’t automatically unlatch from the locks. Meaning they’d have to rely upon their own strength under the water where the human body struggled but with a face of resolution, they persevered. 

They struggled as it refused, the weight too heavy for them to lift. A loud creaking noise as the door wrestled against them. Until it finally gave a small opening after using a massive amount of strength, seizing the opportunity. They slipped through the gap with precise precision as it slammed shut behind them into its returning position.

Taking in another inhale of air, they inspected the room they’d entered. It was another standard hall of the facility, except it came with much more decor and class than the others. Plagues of employee names floated about, embroidered in golden alloy.

The desks were bigger, with an entire computer set up of multiple monitors akin to the one. Many of the documents laid closed and sheltered within sorting cabinets in perfect order, despite being exposed to the waters. Many differing plants had drowned under the water, which had blossomed with life despite the dreary conditions of Blacksite.

Heck, they even had a fish tank!

They debated whether or not to waste time looting the place. It may not be precious data but some of it could be useful at least for their entertainment or personal use. 

Shaking off the idea that dwelled within their head, physically doing so as if the water were clogging their head. Something caught their eye in the process, it was another door. Truly shocking! Except it wasn’t any other door, it was a different door!

It was decorated differently with diagonal yellow and black stripes around the door frame and skirting; hazardous warnings. It stood out against the greys and blacks colour palette of Blacksite, not only that but it was bigger than normal. A with a yellow valve in the centre. 

Whatever was inside was highly dangerous or greatly important, especially with the label on the front. ‘Highly classified’. Which was surprisingly blunt of Blacksite, which normally kept everything as secretive as possible. Hidden.

They treaded closer, depending on whether or not to open it. It seemed much more durable than the rest of the building, stronger. It even looked sealed enough to keep out the threatening floods. And so, hand on the rusted metal. 

It took a strong tug for the valve for it to begin turning, taking a good amount of strength with it. Trying to pull it open against the weight of the ocean, but it wouldn’t budge an inch despite the backbone and muscle.

It would be a lot easier with something to pry it open, like a crowbar. Something that Sebastian would likely own in his arsenal- Wait- No he wouldn’t. That guy would be able to open it with one hand, seeing how he could punch metal and bend it.

They weren’t Sebastian though.

Spying a thin rusted pipe barely clinging to the wall, they decide that would make the perfect makeshift crowbar. Pulling it off, surprisingly easily; They once again try to open the heavy door and after much struggle, jam the pipe between the gap of the door, using the gap to their advantage. 

Slipping through the small gap, water flooded into the room at a rapid pace from the jammed pipe. The room was surprisingly filled with air, reacting to the realisation they had. They take out the bent pipe, the door slamming shut as a result.

With a resupply of air and a large puddle behind them, they observed their surroundings. It was in pristine condition compared to the rest of the facility, everything tidy, complimented with a carpet and another fish tank, algae clinging to the glass. The life inside had long since perished from their poor conditions.

Despite the better conditions, it remained the same boring standard in terms of furniture and equipment. It was just another office sector with just fancy stuff for the richer employees. They had always wanted to explore more of Blacksite, even the sectors containing the holding cells and… ‘Medical’ stuff. Yet, they were never allowed to do so.

Sebastian never allowed them to.

Walking their soaked body towards the comfortable-looking desk chair, and sitting down on it. The soft material pressing against them. It was much nicer than sleeping on the chairs, tables or the dreaded floor of Blacksite. The only other space that reminded them of such comfort was… They pushed the thought away.

After nearly falling asleep, bringing the keyboard closer to them on the desk. Making sure no excess water dripped onto the electronics, they booted up the pc. Only for it to be locked with a password. 

Grumbling with annoyance, they turned to the pouch on their hip. Fortunately, it was waterproof as they pulled out a USB. Plugging it into a socket, the screen suddenly turned to a sort of BIOS menu as it automatically navigated it. Implementing code in the process.

As PAInter had experience in bypassing the security system, they asked it to prepare a crack. Otherwise known as a system bypass or hack, it would allow them to log in without needing a password. Watching as the screen glitched with errors, only to cut to the desktop.

Ignoring the questionable wallpaper of whoever owned the device, they opened the file explorer. They didn’t have the time to explore every single document on the storage drive, with no idea what to look for either. So, they simply copied it over onto the USB.

The computer struggled as its air vents loudly complained about its usage of RAM, it would take some time for it to be completed. To quell their boredom of waiting, they debated opening the built-in solitaire.

Yet their curiosity got the better of them.

In the files search bar, they typed in the four letters. ‘Z-13’. The top result was a document about the creation and overview of the ‘experiment’. Reading through the document revealed photos of Sebastian, as a human…

“He... was a…”, they clicked off the document in a second. Letting out a solemn sigh as a wave of guilt hit them. They knew better than to pry into people's past, despite their curiosities. It was best decided not to look into the private matters of a friend without consent. Sebastian would tell them in his own time.

The revelation was enough to turn a few gears inside their head, some key pieces of the puzzle clicking for them. Sebastian wasn’t just some sentient creature, he was once human. Explaining his usage of the word legs on occasion and referring to himself as a human once or twice. They understood the idea behind it.

His hatred of Blacksite made much more sense.

Solitaire didn’t improve their mood, the guilt was too much for them to bear. Knowing their clumsy tongue, they’d end up coming clean to Sebastian or PAInter later on. They’d get lectured for being noisy and Sebastian wouldn’t trust them ever again…

“Fuck…”, they held back the tears in their eyes. They made a mistake, a stupid one. And they were going to repent, one way or another. It was just as it has always been, they ruined everything… Just like…

A sudden pop-up caught their attention, stating that the transfer was complete. A small smirk appeared on their face for a second, only to go back to the same look of guilt in their eyes. They’d deal with it later, putting off the breakdown.

Standing up, making sure to properly eject the USB to avoid corruption of the data. Pocketing it back into their pouch, making sure it was secure before turning back to the door. The dilemma of opening it returned.

Making sure to resecure their oxygen mask into a more comfortable position, they looked over at the looming door. The busted pipe was held in their palm, ready to ram it between the door yet again.

Pulling on the value yet again, heaving the door towards them with the strength of Hercules. Only to be rammed up against the wall by the value. Pressing against their stomach as it puts a large amount of pressure on them. A sharp pain burrowed in their chest, the weight feeling as if it would break their ribs at any second.

Shoving the valve away, they quickly realised what they had done. Water began barrelling in a roaring flood into the room, quickly taking away the safety of the air. Everything was sent flying as the water pushed its way through like a bull, narrowly dodging the incoming furniture. 

It was swiftly embraced.

A strange sight to see the room they once saw in its neat state turn to disorder and chaos, watching everything break and flip into mayhem. A roaring tsunami turning normalcy into the acquainted ruined Blacksite. Even the best security can be taken away in an instant. They were lucky that they even got the data, a miracle.

The pain remained in their chest, consistent in hindering their movements. Briskly they retreated into the previous room in a makeshift dive, paddling their way out of the building into the open sea despite the persisting agony. 

Taking the time to collect themselves and catch their breath. Staring out into their surroundings, spotting the distant smokey neon green glow in the distance. The markers showed off the path back to the way they came, letting out a sigh of relief that they wouldn’t get lost at least.

Manoeuvring their arms in a waving motion, allowing them to swim forward. They hesitated upon seeing a shadow shift, unable to distinctly make out the shape of it from the darkness of the deep sea. Deciding to turn a bit in another direction to hopefully avoid what they saw, believing it only to be a fish but moving just in case.

The view of the main building slowly came into view, the lights spotted in the distance. Letting out a sigh of relief upon seeing their refuge of safety, feeling joy upon the thought of seeing Sebastian and PAInter after their separated time. To be welcomed and congratulated for their efforts.

They didn’t see it coming.

A loud piercing roar broke the sound barriers within the water, even hurting their ears as they heard it shriek into their ears, clear as day. The beast began its hunt as it called out to its prey, swimming towards them with speeds they could only hope of achieving. 

They couldn’t make out its face as it came barreling towards them. They froze up in fear of the incoming attack, like a deer caught in headlights. A relenting chase, one it was easily capable of winning against its weaker counterpart. 

It bit down into the flesh of their arm like a hearty meal, threatening to rip it off as it shook its head as it pulled them about. Increasing its pressure until it reached the bone of their arm, ripping the foamy fabric that protected them from the water like it was nothing. 

An agonising torturous scream escaped them, howling as it rose in volume until their throat turned sore, hoarse. Struggling against the creature by yanking back the arm that lay in the mouth of the creature, shredding the flesh.

Watching with tears flooding from their eyes as it merged with the seawater. Their blood flowed out in a crimson smoke in ribbon-like patterns from their arm. The liquid life that kept them alive slipped away in the jaws of a monster.

Their body reacted in an acute stress response, turning to a fighting retaliation as their fist met the creature's face, impacting with its hardened skin-like armour. It was tough like nails, persistent as it refused to stop despite their resurgence. 

They struggled against it, fighting back as they repeated the action. Persistent themselves as they fought back, yet it resulted in nothing but more pain. Their mind barely grappled with the situation, attempting to think of a plan that would allow their escape. 

Their hand reached for their flash beacon, targeting it straight into the animal's multiple eyes. Only to press down on the trigger without a moment of hesitation, a blinding light attacking both of their eyes.

The creature screeched, retreating away back into the depths of the water. Their knowledge of deep sea creatures was limited but they knew their eyes reacted negatively to light due to a lack of photoreceptors. Often causing harm or even blinding the creature completely. It wasn’t nice but it was self-defence.

They blinked away the black spots in their eyes, watching as the shadow escaped their view. But, they saw it was quite huge, roughly their size in length. It left them behind with their leaking arm, yet it wasn’t done. If nature documentaries proved to be true, predators were relentless in their pursuit, patient.

Action. No reaction.

They took the action that first came to mind, abandoning the dead flash beacon as they pressed down on their ear without mercy, smashing it against their ear repeatedly as static scrambled in their ear. Trying over and over to establish a weak connection towards the base, to warn PAInter. 

A voice responded, calling out the syllables of their name in pauses as the comlink struggled to make out the words into their ear. They continued, the voice that responded becoming even more panicked, it desperately cried out to them.

Unable to answer due to the mask on their face, muffled their speech as they tried to cry out for help. 

The glitches were too much, unable to decipher the words spoken to them. Unsure of whether or not help was coming to them, they spammed the button again as they begged for help. 

Scared beyond belief, taking in greedy gulps of air amidst their panic. Their body shivering not only from the cold but from the fear that embodied them. Crying out in fear, shaking from the anxiety and overdrive of adrenaline. They wanted nothing more than to hide away in safety, like a whimpering puppy.

Biting down their tongue, drawing blood in pain, they held back their screams. A grimace of determination, fighting out of self-preservation as they fought back the pain. Taking their injured arm, cradled it to their chest as they kicked their legs, swimming towards the base. 

At a slow pace, the image of the base became clearer. Letting out a sigh of relief, coping with the pain would be worthwhile after reuniting with their companions. 

Hearing a beep from their diving suit, the signal that their oxygen supply was low. Leaving them with 30 seconds of oxygen remaining, they quickly took in another breath. Their legs kicked at a faster speed in a panic, the adrenaline working harder.

Only to be dragged down.

Something dug into their leg and clung to it as it tore into the skin of their calf. Strong in its strength as it swam downwards into the depths, pulling them alongside it. They kicked and struggled against it. Trying to get away.

Yet it was all futile, the entitlement to air stripped away as their oxygen supply depleted to its last breath. And again, it was stripped away by their screams. Leaving them behind to suffocate on the lack of oxygen in their system, slowly and gradually drowning.

They instinctively tried to inhale, their lungs begging for air as they choked on their own blood and spit. A burning pain in their chest, throbbing in a twisted pain. The lung labouring, carrying the weight of their malfunctioning body upon its shoulders, hardly working under the weight of it all. Heavy in exertion.

It was worse than a panic attack.

Clinging to their consciousness, to hope. They continued to struggle with weak kicks and a waving arm reaching out towards the sky, feeling themselves fade away slowly. Their arm left a trail of smokey red behind them.

They felt remorse, regret, and guilt as they sobbed with their eyes. Feeling their tear-ducts struggle with the submergence of water, discomfort in their pain. They yearned for touch, for comfort within their last moments.

‘Is this how I’m really going to die?... I’m so stupid- I should’ve listened to PAInter… I should’ve-...’.

…

A loud splash was heard as something breached the surface of the water, something heavy as they heard it from a distance. Something dove in the water, snapping its head in all directions as it searched for something.

Or someone

It inhaled the surrounding waters, breathing in the opposite of air as it adjusted its body to an aquatic mode rather than its humane functions. Gills finally being able to breathe after much abandon. 

It sniffed the waters, only for its eyes to widen and the fins on the side of its head to flare in anger. The strong scent of a shark's nose picked up the smell of delicious, savoury crimson blood. Human blood to be more specific.

His head snapped in the direction of them, diving down with the flicks of his massive tail, traversing the waters with quick speeds as the slithering of a snake combined with a fin made for a powerful combination.

His human quickly made its way into his view.

…

‘Sebastian?...’ they saw a soft light in the distance of their foggy gaze, basking in the soft warmness of familiarity. They wanted to call out, scream, and cry as their arm struggled to reach out in the direction of the serpentine. 

A strong grip caught their arm, tugging on it as it caught their attention. Met face to face with their saviour in front of them, watching on as one of his arms grasped their cheek in worry. Checking if they were alive and conscious. 

They returned the grasp with a weak grip, reassuring him that they were still alive despite everything. They were a fighter, the fighter. One he knew all too well at that point. His expression turned from panic to shock for a moment, only to press their forehead up against theirs.

Staring into his eyes, observing as he embraced them in a welcoming hug. His black curls flowed in the waters, whipping around in a dance as it complimented his face. A mimicry of the wind.

They pressed their forehead in return, struggling to keep their consciousness as they hardly had the strength to keep their eyes open. Whether it be from the blood loss or suffocation, they weren’t sure.

Their closed eyes seemed to send Sebastian into a panic, his relief subsided as he quickly realised the endangered life in front of him. They needed air and safety, quickly. And just like he had done so many times, something that had become routine to him.   

Opening up his mouth, as wide as he could. Shoving them inside without a second thought, careful as he manoeuvred them due to their injuries. Yet, something clung to their leg. Refusing to let go as he struggled to gulp them down. Something trying to take away the human.

…

Fury overtook him, all he saw was red as he grabbed the creature into his main pair of arms. Mustering the strength in his claws he gripped the main torso of the creature. Which refused to let go under the pressure, his talons penetrating its hardened skin like it was nothing, watching it squirm and shriek in pain as it finally let go of them.

He held his grip, refusing to let it get off the hook so easily. Greedily swallowing down the human until he felt the weight of them in one of his stomachs. A protective nature took over him as he opened his mouth once again towards the creature in his grip.

Only to sink in his fangs in a sickening crunch, injecting his venom into its body. Lethal in its dose it would slowly die as it finally escaped his grasp, scattering away like a fearful coward. His attention turned to the weight burrowed inside of him.

‘Please… Be okay…’, he thought to himself as he began to swim back towards Blacksite. Cradling his stomach as he rubbed it in a circular motion, trying to soothe and comfort the human occupying the space.

<...>

They awoke to a sudden gasp, choking on their spit as a result. hacking and coughing from the soreness in their throat, the taste of salt lacing their tongue. They leaned against whatever they were propped up against, the hand reaching up to cover their mouth as they continued to heave with spit. Eventually, coming to a close.

Their delirious state quickly switched to one of alertness, adrenaline pumping through their veins as they sat up. In their panic, taking in their surroundings. Their eyes met with piles of crates containing data, genetic material and stacks of paper littered on top of them. 

On the floor led out various amounts of medical supplies. Antiseptic and bandages were tossed across the floor, and splatters of dried blood decorated the floor alongside them. In the distance, they spotted a table, a surgical needle with medical thread on top, also decorated in the same deep red crimson.

Was that their blood?

The last thing they remembered was being attacked by something in the darkness as they were retreating and… Recalling Sebastian and PAInter, they put weight on their feet as they went to stand. A wave of pain hit them as they held back a scream, quickly collapsing back to the ground, letting out a pained hiss in reaction. 

They quickly realised that their lower leg and right arm were held in a cast, a heavy and tight one. Remembering the fact that they had gotten practically mauled under the water, they were surprised that they remained intact, alive even.

There was a soreness in their injured leg and arm, they could still rotate their elbow and knee if needed too, meaning they still held a level of mobility as they recovered. Someone had treated their wounds, urgently. 

Gripping their palm proved to be painful as the torn muscles in their arm were used. Meaning that they wouldn’t be using the appendages for a while. They felt a weight on their shoulders after adjusting to the pain for a while.

It was a small yet soft and comfortable blanket that protected and sheltered them, keeping them warm despite the cold. A cushion pressed up against the back, out of place due to their struggles but it was there nonetheless. Not only that but a change of attire, a plain white T-shirt alongside a pair of trousers.

They didn’t remember any of this.

Their gaze turned to the one that had coiled his tail around them in a protective cocoon, his hair matted with tangled hair as he hadn’t fixed it up, unlike the usual maintenance of his hair. Which he usually kept brushed and silky smooth.

There was a darker tone of flesh under his eyes, almost like sleeping bags under them. Eye bags to be more precise, he had likely lost sleep some time ago and judging by the mess, he had overworked himself to exhaustion.

He had saved them and even went through the trouble of making them comfortable and treating their wounds, he went through hell just to keep them alive. He…

Their hand dug into the skin and fabric of their leg, tears threatening to spill out from their eyes despite the soreness that came with it. Their lips quivered as they held back a whimpering cry, guilt-stricken.

They crawled with one leg towards him, using their weak arms as a means of balance until they reached their destination. Propping their back against the scales of his tail, they embraced his head into their lap as they began to sob, hugging him with all sorts of emotion.

Sebastian let out a sleepy murmur in response to the movement, fluttering his eyes open with a heaviness of exhaustion. Glancing up his eyes met with their tears, his expression turning to a tired yet concerned look.

His arm reached up, cradling their cheek with a gentle stroke. Rubbing it soothingly in an attempt to comfort them in their cries.

“You… alright?”, unable to bring themselves to a response, the words unspoken as they found themselves lost for words. The tears went from small droplets into a downpour of rain as they used a hand to wipe away the misty eyes.

He didn’t seem pleased as he let out a low growl, not in warning but out of concern as he pushed himself away into a straightened posture, his equivalent of sitting up as he looked down at them with a softness in his eyes, yet also mixed emotions.

Only to notice a scratch on his upper lip, likely a result of his altercation with the creature and him. He had gotten hurt by their recklessness and stupidity, their stubbornness caused this. Their hand instinctively went to the missing pouch on their hip, pausing in confusion as they realised it wasn't there.

Upon seeing their panicked expression, Sebastian seemed to sigh as their head snapped around as they scanned the room for whatever they were looking for, pressing a hand on their chest in a pat-me-down.

“Looking for this?...”, reaching into his pocket, between two fingers laid the USB they had gotten from their chaotic trip. It quickly dawned on them that they were in trouble if he had found it, it meant that PAInter had told him… The emotions were now obvious and distinguished with the furrow in his browline, a seething heavy frown of anger and sternness.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED I WAS ABOUT YOU?! I came back to the shop- Only to see you weren’t there! With PAInter making excuse after excuse to where you were! And after so long of searching, they tell me that you’re being ATTACKED in the outer quarter?!”. He concluded his rant with a sigh, pinching two fingers between his eyes in irritation.

His fangs were out on full display in a pissed grimace, clutching the USB between his fingers in anger as he looked ready to crush it then and there.

“I- I’m sorry…”, they murmured akin to whisper under their breath. The words slipped off their tongue as they struggled to find the words for their heartfelt apology, so much to say yet so little they could.

“What was that?...”, he asked in a growl, words laced in seething venom. His face came closer towards theirs in an attempt of intimidation. They flinched under his gaze, their body shaken with fear as they braced for some sort of physical confrontation.

He looked taken aback for a moment.

“I SAID,” I’M SORRY!”. And I’m sorry! Really- I just- I got so tired of being that pathetic mouth you needed to feed- To provide for me as you worked your ass off as I stood by and did nothing!- I know I’m stubborn- I KNOW I’m impulsive- I know I’m just that stupid human you keep for some fucking reason! I-”.

He yanked their head into his hands, forcing them to look into his. He no longer looked pissed, only worried and sad as he brought them close to his chest, sitting them on his lap gently as he held them as tight as he could without hurting them. Worried that he’d lose them if they let go in that second.

“I thought I lost you…”, he admitted. In a whisper, he uttered their name instead of referring to them as human or flesh bag. Spoken with sincerity and fear.

They returned the hug with all the strength they could muster, clinging on and holding close to him as they cried their lungs out in heaving breaths. They heard him sniffle as he held back his own tears. Accepting the other's apology, they embraced one another until they fell asleep in one another's arms.

<...>

PAInter repeatedly called their name the next morning, his face appearing on the laptop they’d taken for themselves. Their background was a drawing made by the AI of the three of them. They seemed eager to get their attention.

A window opened, revealing a cat dancing to music.

There was a fucking meme folder in there.

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Both my parents actually suffer from HORRID emotional dysregulation and are prone to snapping and going into rages. My sister is the same way tbh. I am now realizing this is why they are constantly baffled by the question of whether or not I am mad at them.

I don't have external meltdowns.

I could. I don't let it happen.

I keep my rage on the inside and stay pretty quiet about it. It's just as strong as theirs [physically shaking nose bleed from high blood pressure kind of bad], but like as a kid I saw how terrifying it was to be around [dad breaking dishes, mom putting our lawn chairs into walls] and I just internalized that I wasn't going to wear that anger on the outside.

So my mother genuinely cannot tell if I am just being quiet or if I am silently hearing the dial-up noises of pure rage. This has lead her to both making strong and confident statements like "You are a pacifist who would never hurt a fly U.U" but also acting like I am secretly dangerous maybe... It's because she has never seen me snap.

She knows what her temper is like [throwing chairs through walls], she knows what my father's temper is like [pick up child and toss out door], and she can tell I am being tested, but she doesn't know what happens when I snap or where that breaking point is.

Her -perhaps unhinged- solution to this, my whole life, has been to do things that should obviously enrage me or shut me down completely, like ignoring important boundaries, repeatedly, punishing me for expressing emotions or needs at all, etc... And then to constantly ask me if I am angry with her when I get too quiet [right after near directly telling me to shut up].

It has occurred to me now, they have never once seen me lose my temper, so they literally just can't tell if I am angry at them. My sister is easy, my mother fights and screams with my sister constantly, my mother understands this. My mother doesn't have any grasp of feelings or boundaries that are not screamed at her [apparently, and I fear my sister is the same way]. Her and my sister are close despite constant fucking fighting because they understand each other.

They are trying to get me to engage the same way and it is not working. I realize now that this has been hard for them.

I was so successfully taught to suppress my emotions, by being punished for any outburst, that rage quiet looks the same as any other kind of quiet from the outside. To them anyway.

I did tell her. For the record. I used my words. I did tell her very calmly that my response to rage, in order to avoid doing the things that terrified me as a child, was to simply leave [the autistic urge to GTFO]. When a situation or person causes too much of the dial-up rage noise, I simply extract myself from that situation, up to and including never speaking to a person again. I explained this calmly. I explained it calmly 100 times and I explained that I explain myself calmly as my rage response 1-5 [also pretty much every other negative emotion tbh], and I told her that what came next was me simply opting out and fucking off. I told her this. I couldn't understand why she never took me seriously, or why she never fucking understood.

I couldn't understand what made her like this.

But it's the same problem I have with everyone else multiplied by a factor of 10.

If I am explaining myself calmly, they can't understand that it's actually serious or that I am actually upset. ESPECIALLY because they read me as "female" and women "aren't that rational" so if I am not screaming and crying about something, which I never do, people assume I can't be upset and it isn't serious.

And then after having my boundaries ignored too many times despite having calmly explained how and why it's a problem [shaking inside or not]... I leave. I leave and everyone gets upset like this is unexpected behaviour, even though I told them 50 times that is how I would respond if they kept doing *the thing.*

And for neurotypical people especially, they are expecting there to be a disconnect between what someone says they need or feel and what their actually boundaries and feelings are, and they expect the latter to be demonstrated with emotions. Telling them bluntly you do not function that way somehow never helps?

My mother isn't just looking for normal yelling or a few tears to know I am serious, whether or not I do those either [I don't], she's looking for an explosion to know there's a problem at all.

Fucked if I know how she proceeds through life this way in general or if this is just her expectation of her own kids???

And I couldn't get why my mother couldn't read my emotions and didn't seem to think I have any. It's because she's testing for the rage limit to see where my 'actual' limit is instead of taking my word for it. Never the fuck mind that she could simply *not* test at my boundaries instead of letting me have them. Separate issue.

I couldn't figure out what made her *like this*

She's expecting me to throw a giant meltdown violent tantrum at people when I have 'actually' had enough. Maybe she got away with those being like 5'4" in another time, but I am the size of the average man, I do not get to have giant screaming rages, whether or not people perceive me consciously as a woman, and least of all because a lot of people -at least unconsciously- read me as 'masculine' or at least always "they guy" of the situation compared to all other women and some men [bigger stronger and more rational, more able to just absorb the damage and let it go so the less rational screaming/crying one doesn't have to be dealt with]. Even if it was in me to be willing to terrify people [usually never], there are such limited instances where it wouldn't just blow back on me. Potentially very dangerously.

I am going to be the quiet calm one. You are going to have to let me use my words, bitch.

So she kept ignoring my boundaries until I had to cut her out of my life, and she probably doesn't understand and probably thinks it feels sudden -after 36 long years of bullshit- abrupt and unfair.

But I told her hundreds of times.

I probably should have just screamed at her.

[bigtittiecomitte]

Be careful what you speak on the internet lest it manifest itself.

OH MY GOD???

AN EPISODE 7 LEAK IN THIS ECONOMY 😭

[crybaby-bkg]

When the tears start to fall, Bakugou is worried at first. His hips slow, the soft sounds emitting from between your thighs dying out, as he rests on his forearms in an attempt to uncover your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Talk to me, baby,” he pleads with you, doesn’t relent until your blotchy face and tearful eyes are exposed to his worried gaze. What he doesn’t expect, is the wobbly smile that greets him, nor the embarrassed little hiccuped laugh you splutter.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble to him, leaning into his warm palm when he swipes at your face to clear the tear marks. Bakugou doesn’t say anything as you gather yourself, still frowning all the while before you hold his cheeks gently in your hands. He looks at you then, his eyes worried, his brows creased, despite your small grin.

“I just love you so much, you know?” You whisper to him, bringing him close until his nose bumps softly against your own. Bakugou sighs then, his entire body collapsing on top of yours until his chest rubs against your naked one, until you can count every erratic beat of his heart slow.

“So you cry? Had me fuckin’ worried over here, for nothin’,” he grunts, fusses at you, despite the way he noses at the column of your throat and breathes in your scent. You chuckle, running a finger up and down his spine, the other holding his face close into your skin.

“Sorry, just get a little overwhelmed at times. With my love for you.” You mumble quietly into his ear, eyes fluttering when you feel his heart finally calm against your own, his rib cage a gentle thud, the softest rattle, on your sternum. Bakugou sighs once more, his dewy breath tickling your neck, as his lips purse slightly against the salty skin.

“Nerd,” he mutters, wrapping his entirety around and through you, as you lay there and let him. Tears spring to your eyes once more, as you glance over to the breakfast in bed he brought for you, to the handmade card with his shitty handwriting, to the crooked little crotchet stuffed bee he learned how to make for you.

When the tears start again, this time, Bakugou doesn’t panic. Only buries his face further into your skin, his hips shifting a little as he mouthes gently at your neck.

“Love you too.” His words are tender into the cool air of Valentine’s Day morning, but they’re heavy and they’re sweet and they’re so full—you burst at the seam yet again. You both lay there for what feels like forever, quiet, nothing but the dull sound of your nails scratching at his nape and humming into the thickness of his shoulder.

“I love you.”

[hamartia-grander]

Starting to slowly realise I'm really not doing well mentally and it's. concerning. I feel like I should take a break from tumblr bc it takes some of what little energy I have but it's also my source of joy with friends so idk what to do, like I'd miss y'all more than I'd feel good about being away. But if you notice me talking less/not responding in days it's bc I just cannot. I leave your message notifs up so I don't forget tho <3

[regscupid]

8/28 prompt: injury - EMT regulus, james is concussed (712 words) - @jegulus-microfic

James has done many, many stupid things in his life. When he was twelve, he broke his elbow throwing himself through a window during a very intense game of indoor football. When he was sixteen, he tried to stand up on the back of Sirius’ motorcycle as it was moving– leaving him with road rash and his parents banning both of them from standing within twenty feet of the bike for a month. At nineteen he drunkenly fell off a roof at a party, though the tequila made the stitches fairly painless.

Where he always excelled in school for being naturally book-smart, he could be right stupid about his physical wellbeing. A skateboard he’d never once attempted to ride in his life and a metal railing along a concrete staircase he decided he was skilled enough to ride on later, that fact is only further drilled into his head– along with a deep ache and some ringing.

Sirius frets over James, crying heavily when the ambulance arrives. As soon as it’s stopped moving, he flies up to tell one of the EMTs what happened, while the other EMT dashes forward with a bag in hand before dropping to his knees beside him.

James feels the breath in his chest catch when his eyes meet the most beautiful ones he’s ever seen. Grey and piercing, a bit familiar but captivating in a way he didn’t know possible. Then, he takes in a stuttered gasp when his eyes flicker over the rest of the man and realizes it's not just his eyes, all of him is like that. Severe cheekbones, an angled jawline, sharp, narrow shoulders. His eyes reach their final destination and James wonders if he could soften the hard set of his mouth. He doesn’t know if it’s the head trauma speaking but he decides immediately that he needs to get injured more often if it means this man will come rescue him.

“Can you tell me your full name?”

“James Fleamont Potter,” Even in his current state, he can hear how breathless he sounds.

The beautiful man gets a crease between his eyebrows when he brings out a little flashlight and shines it briefly in both of James’ eyes.

“Alright James, do you know where you are?”

“Uh, the ground,” James knows it’s the wrong answer when he narrows his eyes and opens his pretty mouth to say something so he rushes to correct himself, “The stairs in front of the university library.”

“Alright, good. That’s good.” James practically beams. “What’s today’s date?”

“The twenty-eighth? I think?”

“That’s correct. Are you able to recall what happened here?”

James grimaces, not keen on recounting his stupidity to the man he’d decided might be his soulmate for all he knows. God, he hopes so.

“I was uh, trying to ride down the railing on that skateboard. But I don’t know how to skateboard. So I… fell. Like, halfway down.”

The man rapidly blinks three times in succession. Takes a frankly well-concealed deep breath, and nods his head once. A stretcher shows up beside them and James realizes the other EMT rolled it out and Sirius was standing next to the ambulance on the phone, likely speaking to Euphemia or Remus.

“I see. Well I don’t think it’s anything serious but we’ll have you at the hospital soon where a doctor can get a better idea. Sound good?”

“I’ll go wherever if you’re there.” James says without a moment’s hesitation and almost regrets it until his pale complexion allows an obvious blush to spread across his cheeks and ears.

The other EMT snorts loudly. James doesn’t know what the guy looks like, his eyes don’t leave the man’s face.

“Alright, James, up you go.” The man doesn’t meet his eyes as both EMTs move him to the stretcher. James almost, almost pouts.

“I’ll drive, Reg.” The other EMT slaps Reg on the shoulder, causing his blush to return in full-force.

“Evan I swear to-” He hisses.

James is making the delightful realization that that means he’ll be in the back of the ambulance with him the whole ride, before his train of thought is interrupted by the sudden paling of Reg’s face. He follows his line of sight to an equally pale Sirius.

“Regulus?”

[ck-17088]

OPINION: Why I think Transformers Earthspark will be remembered as one of the best Transformers shows of all time.

Long story short, Earthspark spoilers. Don't read if you don't want to be spoiled.

I'm delighted to say that Earthspark has again exceeded my expectations. Honestly, when the show was first announced, I expected it to be a TV show meant to pander to young children. It would either be silly or forgettable.

Nope.

The show has blown all expectations out of the water through its bold story-telling and animation. The characters all feel realistic- they have strengths and flaws, which are most apparent when they face difficult situations. Another strength is that this show is not afraid to tackle issues (war, moral issues- "how far are we willing to go for the sake of peace?", discrimination, etc) that have become a part of our society in the present and past several years.

In the new 8 episodes dropped, the central theme appears to be identity. Mainly about finding your identity (ex: finding an alt-mode), making up parts of your identity (ex: finding the right alt-mode that matches each character), and integrating new experiences into your identity (ex: Megatron's decision to gain an Earth-based alt-mode to earn the Autobots' trust)- those sort of topics. These are all important and wonderful topics to discuss and share in a show. However, what surprised me the most was that the writers were not afraid to show the ugly sides of identity-related topics.

The 17th and 18th episodes- "Home Part I" and "Home Part II"- subtly tackle racism and xenophobia. Robbie, Twitch, and Hashtag are visiting Robbie's friend in a skateboard park. While having fun, they stumble upon an anti-transformers graffiti- "Transformers go home". Twitch and Hashtags are shocked and upset over this. Twitch says "This just isn't okay" because they were born on Earth and have lived there for their entire existence. However, Robbie's friend insists that their existence on Earth isn't "okay" since "Invading the Earth wasn't okay either". He's essentially telling them that they exist because of the war, which was unwanted, so therefore, their existence "isn't okay".

That scene honestly emotionally destroyed me. Before I explain why let me say a few things.

I am Korean American. The experiences/feelings I will later talk about are my own and do not fully represent the Korean American and/or East Asian communities. Our community's experiences are varied; thus, one person’s is not enough to sum them all of them.

Throughout my life, especially in the past couple of years- during the COVID-19 pandemic, I have had all of these things happen to me:

- I have been called hateful slurs.

- People have made the slanted eyes gesture to me numerous times.

- A few people have greeted me with "ni hao". (This is offensive because they automatically assume I'm from China because I'm Asian. It supports the idea that AAPI communities are one monolith. Hint: They're not.)

- Many people have asked me if I eat dog meat… (I don't. Never have.)

- Too many times, I have been told to "go back home". (I don't even remember the exact number. That's an indicator of how many times it's happened)

- In college, I have had many academic and career advisors ask if I'm a foreign student. It doesn't appear be an offensive question, but if I were Caucasian, no one would have thought to ask me if I was a foreigner. But no, I am Asian, so there is a huge chance that I might not be American.

The fact that I am Asian, or Korean American, an ethnicity (Korean) not found in the Americas, is enough of an excuse to question my identity and my entire life - who I am, where I'm from, and my own habits. To many, it is an excellent excuse to ensure I feel like an outsider in my own home.

The "Transformers go home" scene destroyed me because it reminds me of the pain that comes from the fact that there will always be people who believe I do not belong in my own country- no matter how many experiences I have had and how ingrained they are in me.

These characters are experiencing that same pain, too, even when they shouldn't be. The insistence from Robbie's friend that their experiences aren't enough to explain their belonging to Earth because they are physically Cybertronian- or transformers- is especially heartbreaking.

However, Robbie stands up for his family and breaks ties with his friend. He refuses to accept the blatant discrimination his siblings are facing and leaves instead. This is significant because while the writers show the ugly side of human society, they also show how to combat it- by refusing to stand by and accept it.

This scene is likely why Earthspark will become and will be remembered as one of the best Transformers shows ever.

It's not just the animation or the stories/plots. It is the show's willingness to tackle issues that are difficult to discuss in real life.

In a world where Anti- Asian, Anti- Latino, Anti- LGBTQIA sentiments and (basically) any hate toward minority groups are on the rise, Earthspark is not afraid to go head-on with these issues. They are willing to show scenes to demonstrate the harm these ideas and beliefs can cause, as well as solutions on how to fight them.

The show embraces the beautiful sides of humanity- friendship, family, love, and hope- but is also not afraid to fight the ugly parts of it too.

Written by: CK17088

[twcfaces]

Since we're on the subject of Harvey being biracial, I think his pops really hated that.

Actual mentions of real-world prejudice, abuse, etc below! Please do not trip over this line if these things are triggering for you.

I feel like the elephant in the room is

>'but his wife was black'

Racism doesn't actually preclude a person from pursuing a relationship outside their race. But that is dissertation paper material and not fictional character blog material. Do not @ me for a dissertation or I will literally find one for you.

>But Halekulani why discuss real life nastiness when you're writing fiction?

Because I motherfucking w a n t to.

Anyway, Harv's dad would use any and all excuses to smack his son across the floor and then make an effort to 'make it up' to him before doing it again the next night and he would definitely dip into the 'you're [insert offensive hateful stereotypical shit here] because you have your mother's blood in you, etc.'

so, literally punishing him for something not under his control and something that isn't in any way a bad thing - but Harvey can never be 'normal' or acceptable to pops because he's not, y'know - white.

Harvey's father made him feel like he was split all the way down to his DNA, like there was something inherently wrong with who he was that he continuously had to make up for.

And there isn't. There is nothing - absolutely NOTHING - inherently wrong with him, or his mother, or his identity.

He gets that now, as an adult, that his father was just a fucking nasty, horrible, alcoholic, abusive, prejudiced, controlling asshole that needed to lord his authority over anyone that trusted him and anyone he thought he could bully.

But damn, sometimes it still hits. He wonders if he's speaking 'right' or if it's 'too much'. He wonders if his clothes are too reserved or too 'try-hard'.

And it sucks.

Yes, I just read GCPD : The Blue Wall. Why do you ask? [shaking, crying]