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thefiery-phoenix · 1 month

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Hi I have been reading all your works and I'be got to say that its really good I mean like wow anyways I would like to request a platonic y'know fix with the oldies of lookism I mean Charles and tom Lee meeting up and Charles bragging about his child (the reader) there new awards , involvement in the business or you can do the geniuses instead of the reader being a genius she's named as the prodigy and is literally so smart like 400 IQ type shit and she literally saves the company's reputation, every genius admits shes smart and kinda like a learning genius where she doesnt have to copy it but masters whatever she wants to learn isnt a copy genius btw but can you like make the personality of the reader a bit like James like reserved nonchalant etc anyways thank you

Hello and thank you for liking my work, it really does mean a lot to have your support❤️

THE PRODIGY

"Long time no see Choi'' spoke a hulking and imposing man that stood tall and towered over the frame of the CEO of the HNH group as Charles glanced up from his newspaper to see none other than Tom Lee, the owner of the White Tiger Job Centre (Baekho HRM), known for being the best in the business to get rid of people in a sneaky and quick manner. "Oh please, you act like we haven't seen each other in years when we just met 2 months ago'' scoffed Charles slightly but a small amused smirk formed on his face. "You look happy...whose life did you screw over, you old crone?" chuckled Tom as he took out his grey bottle from his trench coat pocket and gulped a large sip of his alcohol from it. "Oh come now, you act like I'm a criminal or something...but I didn't screw anyone over yet...for now'' said Charles as he headed over to the table nearby and shuffled a few papers till a picture of you fell out from the stack of papers as Tom's interest piqued up and peered at your picture in an interested manner

"I didn't know you started hiring girls to do your dirty work Choi...props to you for following gender equality and such'' grinned Tom as he stared at the picture. "Ah, that's my newest recruit. One of the prized gems I've had the fortune of stumbling upon. Her name is Y/N L/N'' spoke Charles proudly as the lines around his eyes crinkled slightly out of pride for you. "This is the first time I've ever heard you praise someone other than those brats Gun and Goo...I wonder what makes this one here so special that has you singing her praises'' questioned Tom as he raised a brow in curiosity, awaiting for Charles' explanation. "In a way, she's kind of like James Lee...an exceptionally skilled and talented fighter, I daresay even stronger than Gun and Goo... she has training of the Indian martial arts called Kallaripayyatu along with Krav Maga which makes quite the deadly combination when used in combat. The advantage of her using her skills is that no one can predict what she might do next. She's even more unpredictable than Goo and James because if someone faces them a couple of times they'd be able to read their attack patterns with ease. But it's different for Y/N, you'll never know when she'll whip out a chain or a knife or just fight with her bare hands... that's what makes her quite the enigmatic fighter, she isn't afraid to fight dirty as well''

"She sounds like quite the catch then...'' muttered Tom as he continued to drink his drink and stared at your picture. "She's even won an award for her literary works as a writer, the Lindenberg award and is quite the over achiever if I must admit...a real prodigy of a girl. My daughter took an instant liking to her as do I. She simply cannot stop singing her praises'' replied Charles as Tom had an amused smirk on his face. "Neither can you and the amount of stalking you do makes me look sane'' answered Tom with a cackle. Charles smirked as he replied "That was mere research...her personality is a literal carbon copy of James, completely reserved and shy and nonchalant'' "Ah, so you're dealing with a touch me not of an introvert then eh, good luck getting that one to open up to you'' said Tom as he snickered and gulped down the last sip of his drink before he stuffed his bottle back into his pocket and glanced at Charles

"Doesn't matter though, I'll have to make her open up...what she's achieved to do for my company was more than what any of the Worker's affiliates could do, they're all mere useless inexperienced children in front of her...'' scoffed Charles as he hummed slightly and his gaze left your photo to focus on the view of the night city before him, several feet below him, taking pride in the fact that he'd gotten to a point where people had to look up to HIM. "You better be careful though...a little birdie told me that Steve Hong was looking forward to meeting with Y/N L/N'' said Tom with a slight grin as Charles' posture stiffened and his jaw clenched as he narrowed his eyes. "What did you say?" he asked in a soft voice, his tone laced with malice and hidden fury. 'That old bastard...if he ever thinks he can have Y/N and steal MY prodigy from me, he's got another thing coming...he can't have her..no...I'll make sure of it...' Charles thought to himself as Tom smirked, looking like he'd just read Charle's thoughts. "You look awfully nervous of losing your beloved little prodigy...wouldn't it be a shame if someone were to snatch her up like the little feather that she is for someone else to use?" asked Tom, his cheshire cat like grin evident on his face and his eyes glinted with malicious amusement, enjoying the sight of Charles Choi on the verge of losing his cool and his patience on the line

"Let me enlighten you with a little story...a while ago Eugene tried to recruit Y/N to join the Workers and he somehow thought he could keep it quiet from me but failed. Why else do you think I decided to meet with Jake Kim, the son of Gapryong Kim that night? We both know it wasn't out of sheer pity...Y/N is my ticket to destroy the crews and the Workers and expand my empire'' said Charles as he continued to stare at the city beneath him, just how he liked it, everyone underneath him, serving him. "I sometimes forget you're more unhinged and ruthless than me...I can't say if I'm shocked or proud'' spoke Tom as he trailed off and looked like he was pondering about something. "This is coming from someone who strips his clothes off and challenges his employees to a fight to the death. It's a miracle your so called employees lasted for so long'' replied Charles as he smirked at Tom. "Touche old Choi'' grinned Tom

"I'm planning to make sure she stays close to us...to me...at my residence. Of course, I shall fund for her schooling and such'' said Charles after a few moments of silence. "Doesn't she have parents?'' asked Tom with a quirked brow as his amused smirk grew even wider. It was such a sight to see someone like him be so obsessed about someone like you, and rightfully so, Tom could understand his friend's obsession with you. You were a natural gifted fighter, the sort of fighter people would literally KILL and spill blood to have on their side. "Do you think that concerns me? Her father is a software engineer and her mother is a stay at home housewife...hardly what I call a challenge. Her potential will be wasted if she continues to live with them. I've tried to convince them before to send her to me and they had the guts to refuse me even after offering them a fortune...I am Elite...if it means I have to get rid of her parents and have their blood spilled then so be it. It will also prove as a warning for anyone foolish enough to attempt to lure her to them. Besides, I've already spilled blood before, it's nothing new. What's a bit more going to do?'' answered Charles, his eyes glinting with malice as his smirk widened. Tom was now convinced you really were the prodigy he'd heard so much about from the people around who kept on yapping about you. He was just glad he managed to wring out the information from Charles which saved him tons of amount of research as he mentally decided to pay you a visit some day...even if it meant dealing with Choi's wrath which he could always deal with later. The main goal on Tom's mind now was how to get you on HIS side...

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gretavanlace · 1 year

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The Emperor’s New Clothes

Jake Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, alcohol consumption, flirting, light impact play, dirty talk, oral (fem rec), etc

Inspired by this gorgeous little bit and this one, too. You’re all evil geniuses ❤️💋

“Seriously, what is wrong with you three?” Danny grabs the pool stick out of Sam’s hand and shoves him aside. “Is being a shitty pool player a prerequisite for being a Kiszka?”

“In fact, it is!” Josh sounds off, leaning against the table, finger idly dragging over the kelly green felt. “They pull us all aside in the hospital directly after birth, and say…hmm, I’ve forgotten, it seems. Samuel?”

Sammy takes a long chug of his fruity pink drink around a nod. “They say,” he gestures grandly, so much like his eldest sibling at the moment. “Be as useless as possible if you ever get your hands on a pool stick. Fuck every play up royally, for this…this is your duty. It’s all very dramatic.”

“Ah yes,” Josh raises his glass in thanks. “That’s it, little brother. Good man, better memory.”

“Idiots.” Danny shakes his head, and sinks three striped balls before scratching and turning in your direction. “Jake, you’re up.”

Jake rises from his stool beside you where he’s been watching the scene unfold with a gentle hand on your bare thigh.

“My time to shine, kitty cat.” He plunks his neat whiskey down and swaggers away, calling over his shoulder. “Prepare to witness mediocrity at its finest.”

“Mediocre would be a compliment.” Danny adds with another shake of his head that sends his mane of curls swaying.

“Hey,” Jake points a lazy finger at him, “you chose me as your partner.”

“Only because the other two are even worse, somehow.”

He sounds baffled by it, and you suppose that makes sense. Normally, the brothers Kiszka float through life with seemingly endless layers of talent. It’s more than fun for the both of you — strangers to such endless grace — to witness their struggle.

Danny hurries to your side, so that you might enjoy the moment together, falling into you as you both dissolve into a fit of half-drunken laughter when Jake flawlessly (and accidentally) sinks the 8 ball.

“Tired of this, is all.” He shrugs, lying his ass off. “We never do anything real. Let’s do something real.”

“I’m real,” You taunt jokingly after a swig of the whiskey he’s left you in charge of, “you could do me.”

“Don’t be cheeky.” He scolds half-heartedly, with a wavering point your way.

“I love it when you talk ‘shitty british accent to’ me, jakey.” You wink with another pull on his glass, draining it to the dredges.

Daniel tries an accent of his own on for size, mimicking his band mate. “Name’s Jacob, love.” He reaches forward to kiss your hand, and you allow it with a giggle and a blush Jake pretends not to see. “I’m terrible at pool…and that’s not the only stick I don’t know how to wield.”

The brothers erupt into laughter as you roll your eyes affectionately.

“Laugh it up, pricks.” Jake sounds unbothered in the sexiest way…it takes a bulldozer to get under his skin.

“Aw, that’s alright, you gorgeous thing, you,” Josh allows his stare to fall dark upon you after a conspiratorial wink. “If my perpetually stupid twin wants to waste opportunities, I’ll allow it and take care of you myself.”

“Sounds perfect, josh…” you lend a breathy tone to your words. “Upstairs in your room or right here on the pool table?”

He pretends to think it over, “I’d say table, but look at all the balls left on the felt. That doesn’t exactly scream comfort. If only Jake could actually sink one or two.”

“Yeah,” you nod with a solemn sigh, “such a shame. Upstairs then.”

“Me?” Jake sloshes more whiskey into his glass and slides it away from you while miming a kiss so you’ll know he realizes this is all in good fun. “You didn’t land a single fuckin’ ball, Josh. Why do you even have this?” He raps his knuckles quickly against the shiny wood framing the table.

“I happen to enjoy telling people I have a billiard room.” Josh smooths his shirt flippantly. “It makes me sound refined.”

“Yeah,” Sammy speaks up from the bar where he is chaotically preparing himself a refill. “Break out the brandy and Tchaikovsky, already. I’m not feeling cultured enough.”

“It makes you sound stupid, because this isn’t even a billiard table.” Jake points out. “Totally different game.”

In reply, Josh sends a square of chalk sailing through the air directly at his head. His twin ducks at the last minute, avoiding impact. “You’re just mad because your girl wants me to take her upstairs.”

“Is that true, kitty cat?” His stare lands on you with mischief glittering there. “You wanna go upstairs with the sun, or stay down here in the darkness where you like it best?”

He saunters forward and pulls you in close, lips soft against your pulse point…but for a split second, you can’t help the way your line of sight lingers, locked with Josh’s.

Jake’s knee slides between your thighs, just high enough to be a little inappropriate. He’s claiming you. Reminding the room to whom you belong, though it isn’t necessary…the whole world can see you’re his.

It’s all right there in the way you look at him. In the way you move with him like a devoted magnet. In the way your body comes alive with electric love when he walks into a room.

Yes, you’re his. Implicitly. But sometimes…..

Shoving the thought away, you push him aside as well, with an embarrassed swat. “Quit it.”

“See?” Josh teases, never one to shy away from giving his brother hell. “She’s ready for the superior twin. Aren’t you, pretty?”

He sends another wink flying in your direction. “And who could blame her? She’s seen me in a jumpsuit or two.”

“Here we fucking go.” Sam groans loudly. “If you’re going to start in on a big dick monologue, I’m calling an Uber.”

“I’ll split it with you.” Danny concurs.

“Ah, fuck off,” Josh waves a hand in the air wildly, dismissing them both “jealous bastards.”

He moves to grab his drink, drifting through the room with that careless elegance that follows him around like a shadow, and you find yourself unable to look away the way you sometimes fall victim to when he’s owning one stage or another.

At times, Josh is like a song you can’t get out of your head. You don’t want to sing it, you don’t want to listen, but there it is all the same…dominating your attention.

You shake it off, but when your eyes reluctantly abandon him, you find Jake’s gaze, narrowed and knowing, tracking and all seeing. It burns into you, lighting a tortuous flame of shame, and something else, within you.

It’s an unsteady feeling. Unsure. Mostly because you can feel emotion radiating off of him like wandering hands reaching out to stroke over your skin. He’s live-wire-alert, thrumming with galvanic energy, but he isn’t angry. Far from it.

It’s analytical, this look he has fixed upon you. It’s hot, there’s no questioning that…but it also boasts a peculiarity. He’s honed in on something you’ve tried very hard to keep hidden, and he doesn’t necessarily hate it.

Brushing away what can only be labeled as intrusive thoughts - he can’t have seen through you that easily - you watch as Dan and Sam begin a game of darts, squabbling over who should throw first.

The night drifts by languidly, becoming a little fuzzier and more dream-like with each trip to the bar to top up.

Jake has disappeared, but that’s nothing new. He tends to wander when inebriated. Likes the quiet. You’ll catch up with him sooner or later. Or perhaps you’ll find him curled up in the guest room that has been unceremoniously reserved for the two of you each time Josh hosts.

You’ve fought it as long as you can, ignoring the nagging ache in your bladder, unwilling to readily ‘break the seal’ that will render you popping off to the bathroom every ten minutes.

Josh is contemplating a song that has been trekking about in his mind, remaining hidden away despite begging to be written.

You nod sympathetically, offering up a squeeze of his hand in solidarity. “Hold that thought,” you smile, tripping on your slurred words so mildly no one but yourself would ever notice. “Off to the ladies room.”

“The ladies room?” He laughs, trotting out that barking belly laugh that is nothing short of infectious. “You make my home sound like an Applebees.”

“Applebees?” You hear Sam pipe up as you ascend the basement stairs “Are you ordering? ‘Cause they’ve got that queso I like.”

Danny’s reply comes muffled as you slip onto the main floor. “Applebees is fuckin’ disgusting, and anyway…”

Hands washed, and a smudge of eyeliner wiped away, you emerge from the bathroom, ready to rejoin the party when a hand slithers out in the dark, quick as a striking snake, to pull you into the spare bedroom.

“Hello, kitty cat.” Jake’s voice comes smoothly in the dark.

“Jake,” you’re working hard to quiet your hammering heart as your eyes fight to adjust in the darkness. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’d tell you I’m sorry, but I’m not.” You can nearly hear the smirk in his tone.

“Have you been hiding up here all this time?” You ask, as he holds tight to your hands, barring you from actually being able to touch him.

“Yes. Kept myself busy by going through my brother’s things.” He whispers, licking a soft trail along the side of your pinky. “Did you know he owns a vibrator? Wonder what he uses that for?”

“Probably the same thing you use mine for.” You breathe back in the pitch black of the room, picturing the way he sometimes holds it against his cock for you when you feel like watching. “Stop teasing your poor twin. And you shouldn’t go through other people’s things, Jacob. Naughty.”

“Oh? Shouldn’t I?” His lips skate across your own as he leans in. “I wouldn’t have found this if I hadn’t.”

He has timed his moment perfectly, and as the light flips on, the ability to form truly coherent thoughts becomes unattainable.

A completely self-assured expression warms his features as you stare on with parted lips and softly panting breaths.

Josh’s jumpsuit, stark white and swimming with mermaids and winking glitter, hugs his body like a second skin. It renders the tan of his complexion even more pronounced, leaving him standing before you like a sun-kissed god.

His hair is pulled back in a loose, low slung bun. It’s lazy and effortless. Obviously not executed before a mirror, and that makes it all the more right.

“Fuck, I…” you falter, unable to find the words for your thoughts. Probably for the best, lest you come off as some fucked out ninny in a poorly scripted porno.

“Will this do?” He bites down on his lip, hiding away a flash of insecurity that you spot anyway. It’s gone as fast as it came. Replaced quickly by that cocky smirk that makes your cunt ache for his touch. “Or should I go and gather my brother?”

“Jake…”

Your eyes are fixed on his cock, half-hard and deliciously on display behind the suit. So very much like his twin.

“What?” He yanks you in close and ghosts his mouth up along your pounding jugular until his lips are pressed against the shell of your ear. “I see the way you watch him sometimes. You look so pretty when you stare. Do you want to fuck him? Because you can. If you want him that badly, that is. You can have him.“

A moan in the negative is all you can hope for in the moment.

“No?” He’s got you up against the door now, grinding his fully hard cock against your clit, inching his fingertips up along the outsides of your thighs, higher and higher under your skirt. “You’ll settle for me, dressed up in the emperor’s clothes?”

“You’re the fucking emperor.” You correct, burying your hands in his hair, further loosening his haphazard bun. “I just like to think about it now and then.”

Oh, where did that little bit of honesty come from? Some things are better left unsaid.

“You like to think about fucking my brothers?” He couldn’t be further from angry if he tried. You can hear it. Territorial, perhaps…but that will do perfectly.

“Never said brothers,” you gasp, clinging to his bare shoulders for dear life when his fingers curl into the sides of your panties. “Just Josh.”

“Why?” He’s beginning to shine with sweat and need.

“I like his mouth…oh, fuck…” you whine when he slips your underwear down, mid-thigh. “It’s pretty. And the way he moves his tongue sometimes…”

“Alright, shut up…” he lands a harsh crack of a smack against your swollen clit. “That��s enough.”

“Jealous?” You smile, taunting him just a little before leaning in to dip your tongue into his warm mouth. He tastes of liquor, and cinnamon, and Jake.

“Maybe.” He smiles into your kiss.

“You’ve given me permission to fuck him, but you can’t handle listening to me talk about it?” You’re taunting him mercilessly, but he loves it and you both know it.

“Maybe you’re just needy.” He teases right back, easing two fingers snug into your warmth without warning. “Yeah? Maybe you’re just feeling slutty because you need to cum. Is that it, baby? Do I need to pet my pretty kitty cat a little?”

“Please…” you’re begging, and much too loudly given that there’s an audience one floor below, but you can’t find a fuck to give.

“Mouth or cock?” He curls into you, pressing perfectly inside your silken walls as you arch away from the door.

“Mouth.” You whimper, sounding as pathetic as you feel in your desperation.

It’s the correct answer. Had you said cock, he’d have worked himself into a frenzy thinking about the way you spoke of Josh’s mouth but didn’t ask for his.

He drops to his knees, without a word, eyes on yours until he disappears beneath your skirt, beautiful features now cloaked and hidden away.

You blush under the scrutiny of no one in the empty room when you hear him draw in a deep, lingering, lungful of you with his mouth on your dampened thighs.

“Pink and pretty,” his voice rasps from between your legs. “She’s just a little messy right now. Don’t worry, kitty cat…I’m gonna kiss her all better.”

A feral sound chokes out of you as you yank his face in close, burying him in your cunt.

At first, he’s louder than you are. Murmuring hungry little grunts and moans against your slick skin…sucking at you ravenously until the room is stifled up, full and hot, with the wet sounds of your cunt and his mouth.

Soon, though, you grow hotter, and lose yourself little by little, fucking against his face as he loves on your clit obscenely. Lapping at it, nibbling delicately, drawing it into his kiss tenderly as his fingers delve deeper inside.

He fucks you slowly, nudging you along as you whine and beg above him.

“Shh…” he warns around your pulsing bundle of nerves. “Or do you want him to hear you?”

“Only you.” You promise, rocking your hips frantically to meet him. “It’s all for you. Don’t stop.”

“Not gonna stop.” He swears, licking away at you like the sweetest lollipop is playing over his tongue.

It’s intrusive and definitely not called upon, but when the picture begins to tumble about in your mind on loop— both of them nestled between your legs at once with those gorgeous mouths of theirs, you’re cumming hard and fast…pouring over his fingers, likely ruining the front of a jumpsuit neither of you can claim ownership of.

Its blissful and for a moment, your soul is robbed from it’s earthly confines, spending a suspended breath ruminating with the universe.

“God damn…” Jake’s winded response scratches out of him as he peeks out from under your skirt, eager to get a look at your flushed face.

He’s covered in you. Glistening and catching the light in your release. “You came everywhere.”

His observation is beyond pleased, but when your eyes slide away, he presses you for answers while still on his knees. “What? Tell me.”

“It’s nothing.” You smile, stroking a bead of sweat away from his temple.

“Liar.” He grins lazily, licking the taste of you off his plush lips. “Tell me what got you off so hard.”

It takes a massive amount of charm on his end, but eventually, you admit that you’d been thinking about them both.

The look in his eyes is nothing short of devious when he goes to speak, only to be quieted by a soft knock on the door.

Your eyes meet in panicked anticipation when a familiar voice breeches the wooden barrier. “It isn’t nice to talk about someone behind their back, you know?”

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year

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With your language AU, I remember watching a video about a guy speaking angrily nonesense in an Indian accent and people thinking he was very angry. Imagine this as the Creator speaks angry gibberish to people and they just assume that the Creator is cursing them or something. (Or like when they speak gibberish to babies and everyone's like, "Aw the Creator is teaching that baby their divine language")

*AUDIENCE DRAMATICALLY GASPS.

✨️I look pretty good for a dead bitch✨️

She's alivveee!!!

Whats up i almost passed away from sheer academic workload, but im not in the ground yet 🥰 And with drafts outta my ass! :D

Hope yall ready for ur regularly scheduled Bullshit Genshin Sagau <3

SANDBEES THATS SUCH A GOOD USERNAME & ALSO SORRY I ANSWERED THIS SO FUCKING LATE JESUSSSSS 💀💀💀

SORRY ABT THE POLL I CANT BELIEVE I COULDNT FIGURE OUT HOW TO DELETE IT IM FUCKING CRYING I WOULD DO THIS-

Well at least i can do polls thru this in the future?? Idk tumblr is ass so we'll see how this accidental test works out...

☆

So these were the first thngs i thought of and its not super long bc ASKERS R GENIUSES OKAY

SOMTIMES I JUST WANNA PROFUSELY THANK U GUYS AS A REPLY FOR SHARING WITH THE CLASS THRU MY BLOG 💖💘💫

Saw the gif and couldnt help but think this is how ppl like Alhaitham or Diluc would react to u "speaking ur langauge"

"Our langauage" aka being a SIM 💀

◇

Stop Albedo would ask you to teach him ur lang/grammar rules 😭

What u gonna do when Zhongli asks you to teach him some words-

OH NO

NO DONT PASS ON YOUR BULLSHIT LMAO

U GIVING ZHONGLI SOME STUPID SIM WORD LIKE

Your ass: "GIGGLABAH means beautiful :) "✨️

Zhongli: "Oh thank you, how different from our own version, so excited sounding..."

You walk by him strolling the harbor and he just smiles at you and says

"You look gigglabah today my liege."

HIS REGAL FACE AND FANCY WALK WITH HIS HAND BEHIND HIS BACK AND EVERYTHING

(honestly ppl paint him as oblivious but he kinda seemed like the type of bastard who seems like he's not aware but sometimes he secretly knows the truth, he's just getting too much amusement out of it to stop doing it, LOL he does shit like the above to see YOUR reaction- LMAO)

◇

You're a maniac pls tell me u dont pass on simlish to all the serious characters-

XIAO WOULD SECRETLY THINK IT SOUNDS GOOFY BUT WANT TO BE INVOLVED BC ITS YOU ANYWAY LMAO

SO HE'S JUST SLIGHTLY SQUIRMING AND GETTIN PINK EVERYTIME HE SAYS A STUPID SIM WORD BC HE FEELS LIKE A GOOF HAHA

(& he's not the only one, others too like Kaveh, YELAN, Ningguang, Nahida, DILUC, AYAKA LMAO-)

◇

Some ppl i could see taking ur gibberish bullshittery and whether they believe its real or not is irrelevant bc theyre using it anyway-

And i dont mean in a good way 😭

LIKE IM THINKING OF VENTI.

CRAZY BARD INCLUDING SIMLISH ASS GIBBERISH WORDS IN HIS SONGS BC OF YOU

"Be cheerful like the hugkukie,

and may your cup never leaky!"

And Diluc loves you.

Really he does, deeper than he thinks-

But his eye is twitching LMAOO

◇

(Ok but if you did like multiple of these language shenanigans thruout the asks ive gotten, Kaeya would literally grow so fond of you and associate you with goofy funny shit that makes him laugh so hard that everytime he sees you he automatically is beaming with a smile, or trying to supress a warm grin- this got away from me but its 1:44am for me rn so i would love a smiley Kaeya rn -)

♡

Speaking language bs I have my 2nd oral exam for spanish tomorrow, pls send whatever good vibes u got and i am also really open to prayers from any religion as well. sobs

Hope anyone got any enjoyment out of my response bc tbh the ask is what rlly matters to me atp lmao

Until the next shenanigan-

Safe travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds mwah ♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

#hope u guys like those follower event posts when they here 😖🙏#so u would think the opposite but no-#those headcanons r gonna be so much more lore than u probably wanted #and the oneshot the opposite 💀#more absolute baffoonery than u ever wanted from me #genshin impact #genshin sagau #my asks #sagau #genshin imagines #genshin isekai #genshin sagau language barrier au #genshin sagau language au #should i attempt to make these tags #does it even matter or is it a fruitless endeavor #the language brainrot is endless #yall have lost brain cells reading my writing i stg #genshin sagau ideas #gender neutral reader

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nilsavatar · 8 months

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DAY 4 - SPANKING

Parings: Jake x Fem!avatar

Genre/Warnings: NSFW/MDNI +18, no use of Y/N, SMUT in the end, P in V, spanking, use of pet names (baby girl, sir), dom Jake, age gap, mentor-student relationship (difference in power), one night stand, cheating, mention of Lo'ak x oc, Spider has a crush on her. All characters are AGED-UP.

Summary: Aubree (reader) has just arrived on Pandora, her lifelong dream finally coming true. But a series of misfortunes will lead her to share a passionate moment with the sexy Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya. Starting with a broken shower.

Inside you will find a hint of Lo'ak x OC. Let me know if you would like a version with him as well.

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist - Request a fic

“So, it is settled? There will be new entries in the AVTR Program. I don’t like the sound of it.” The last part was said in a whisper that Norm heard anyway, thanks to the amplified senses of his Na’vi-like body. “We’re understaffed, Jake. They’re trusted people, among the best minds on Earth, who love this moon just as much as we do.” “You love it so much that you rejected Faanì’s advances,” he chuckled. “That woman terrifies me. She is so…” “Confident, go-getter?” “‘Encroaching, pushy.” “Hey, it’s the Omatikaya ways,” he shrugged his shoulders. “They’re used to being straightforward, and taking what they want.” “Ignoring her isn’t direct enough?” “Evidently, their extreme sincerity doesn’t let them acknowledge the hidden meaning behind your evasiveness. Also, Faanì has several suitors; your coldness will be the reason for her apparent obsession.”“Apparent, really?” “Admit it, you’re at least a little pleased. She’s a stunner, and she’s totally into you. Come on, loosen up a bit. It’s fine to have fun sometimes. You're the last unmated dreamwalker and one of the few who didn't opt for the permanent consciousness transfer. Don’t tell me you’re still thinking about…” His silence was as loud as a scream. “It won’t bring her back. And that's not what she'd have wanted. You know that, right? Anyway, when are they getting here?” “In a week.”

“I thought you would make the first link with your avatar as soon. ”When her fingers touched the cold, metallic handle, she almost exulted. Dusk was fast approaching, and she longed to rid herself of the sticky, humid rainforest heat by jumping into the shower. Her head bent to hold her cell between ear and shoulder, a clipboard wedged under her armpit, and her badge lined up haphazardly toward the lector on the door.

"That's not how it rolls," she said, holding back a chuckle. “They put me through some tests first. Linkage can be risky if you're not in tip-top shape. I was in cryo for six years and woke up on a whole new world. You should know better than me, doc.” The woman on the other end of the phone chortled. “What can I say? I’m a therapist. Mind’s my thing; the rest is in the hands of you geniuses.”

The unlocking beep was covered by the resounding clapping of the paperwork that slipped from under her arm. Great. She rolled her eyes at the ceiling, opening the door and pushing the fallen papers in with one foot. Then she disposed of her purse and badge, leaving them on the shelf at the entrance. Aubree was about to answer her, but her voice lost its importance the moment the trill of an incoming email rose from the small monitor on the desk.

“It’s Max. My exams are ready. Tomorrow's the big day! My avatar's coming out of the incubator and I'm making my first connection.” “Amazing! Go freshen up, grab a good meal, and hit the hay early. Tomorrow’s gonna be a tiring day and the experience of the first link may be traumatic.” “Are you speaking as a friend or a psychologist?” “As both?” “Consider it done, Liv. Rest assured.” “And tomorrow night we’re going to have a momentous hangover. To celebrate.” The scientist smiled. “Doesn’t sound like very professional advice.” “Hey, I've been waiting for you on Pandora for a year! You finally got your doctorate, and you're not gonna party? You're the worst, you know that?” “Technically, I got it six years ago.” “But for you, it’s like it was yesterday. It’s a lot to process. What do you think we therapists are here for?” “Norm’s not gonna be so happy.” She heard her exclaim, “Can’t wait! Tomorrow it is! And eat.” “Aye, aye. See you tomorrow,” she signed off before hanging up.

She huffed as she laid the papers neatly on the desk, went to the bathroom, and hurriedly undressed, opening the jet. As soon as the cold water rained down on her heated skin, she let out a sigh of relief. Aubree hated the hot weather, the bugs, the sweaty clothes. All things she hadn’t considered moving here, but still wouldn’t make a difference. In the summer, on weekdays, she took two showers a day, sometimes one even at night when the mugginess prevented her from sleeping. Occasionally, she wondered where she found the strength to get out of bed at three in the morning to shower.

Out of the blue, as she was soaping her hair, the jet went off. She tried to turn it back on a couple of times, before walking out of the stall cursing, grabbing a towel to rub her skin and hair. Then she put on the first thing that came her way and left the room at a brisk pace. She refused to skip her beloved evening shower.

The girl walked down the long corridor until it opened onto the link beds wing, where she knew she would find Norm. And indeed, there he was, emerging from his pod; a tired expression painted on his face. Waiting for him, besides the medical team, was a tall Na’vi in warrior garb who struggled to keep his back straight because of his size. Just further away, another pair of natives who appeared noticeably younger, her peers presumably, but equally warriors judging by the cummerbund that wrapped around their ribcage. They whispered and nudged each other while laughing at something only they knew.

Their somber vociferation was abruptly ceased at the entrance of the girl, who, if she had not been so stymied, would have noticed the astonished stares and the sudden muteness filling the room. With the soles of her bare feet flapping in stride, her hair glossy with shampoo, her clothes clinging to the non-dry skin and showing off more than they should, and a livid expression, she planted herself in front of Norm, who stared at her with some embarrassment and intimidation, although the woman was noticeably smaller than him.

And the same could have been said for poor Jake, who tried to focus on everything else as long as he did not look down at her cleavage. The damp fabric not only perfectly outlined her breasts but also highlighted her air-conditioned nipples. The darker areolas showing through the white material, pointing at him like a pair of eyes.

“Norm.” She called caustically, and for a moment Jake swore he sensed him trembling under the accusatory tone with which she pronounced his name. Shit, he himself had felt an electric shock run down his spine and pour into his lower abdomen. "This is the third time in two weeks," she accused, arms crossed, foot tapping. That simple gesture lifted her chest just enough to knock the corporal’s breath away, the loincloth getting tighter and tighter. She was a sassy one. ”Something's definitely wrong with the hydraulics. We can't keep this up.”

At those words for a moment, the man felt pulled in, as if she was referring to his own plumbing problem. Well hidden between his legs, thank goodness.

“We will arrange it.” “We’d better.” At that point, Jake cleared his throat to signal that, yes, he was still there. “Um, Aubree, this is Jake Sully. Jake, Aubree Young, our fresh addition to the Avatar Program.” “Aubree, the PhD student. Nice to meet you.” She had to suppress a groan hearing the syllables of her name roll across his tongue; it was almost like feeling them tickle her back, spoken in that muted, persuasive voice. The girl was petrified under his impassive gaze (Jake was a talented actor); she had seen him portrayed several times. He was practically a rock star, but he didn’t look so handsome in pictures, which just didn’t do him justice — especially to those eyes. He extended his large hand toward her, however, she responded by bringing two fingers to the center of her forehead to draw an arc, bowing in respect. “Olo’eyktan, smon nìprrte’ (nice to meet you).”

Fuck, did she have to bow like that? From that angle, he could see her bosom in all its youthful splendor. A woman in her prime. Deliciously round and full against the thin material.

“Holy shit!” burst out a voice behind them. Spider. “What the heck happened to you?”

Like a bucket of ice water, finally, the revelation of her scant coverage crashed over her. She looked down at her body, realizing that she had her breasts basically sticking out, and a muffled sigh left her lips. In a magnanimous gesture, a colleague offered her his gown, which she fastened onto the very last button, mortified.

The lips of the Na’vi boy with the shaved right side of his head tensed in a thin grin, and a subtle — or rather, sadistic — gleam animated his eyes, not even deigning to move them from just below her face. “You do seem to have a conflictual relationship with underwear,” he subtilized wryly. Aubree wished the floor would have swallowed her all: she had forgotten her bra. “Lo’ak!” the other two Na’vi called back to him in unison, and he turned away without showing the slightest touch. “We’ve raised you better than that.” Jake wished he could have been more severe in his rebuke, but it was undeniable that his little dig had affected him.

What did he mean by that? The girl had a habit of publicly displaying herself in such an… unbecoming way? More likely she was just a hothead. Annoyance had driven her out of her room in that attire.

“Still the broken shower,” Spider guessed. “Yeah,” in all her awkwardness, still a hint of irritation shone through from the young woman’s mumbling. “My offer is still on the table until things get sorted.” "Thanks, but I don't want to be a burden. Liv said I can shower at her place. Anyway, Norm, please do me a favor and find a solution.” The man nodded, sensing more than well what she implied: ‘For your sake and peace of mind.’ She would haunt him until her bathroom was repaired.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Liv blocked a forkful halfway through to look up at her. ”I’d prefer that, trust me.” “Did you show up in front of the olo’eyktan and his sons drenched from head to toe, and with your tits out?” “I didn’t have my tits out!” “They weren’t in place either, though.” Her friend sighed, chewing quietly. “So, what do you plan to do?” “Ignore it?” ”Acting like it didn't happen won't make it go away.” “I will not humiliate myself further by going to apologize. I won't have many chances to meet with them, anyway.” “Probably not the clan leader or his eldest. But Lo’ak…” the tone in which she mentioned him did not please the doctoral student at all. “Speak.” ”He's a total jerk. He'll make your life a living hell after that. Avoid him at all costs.”

Aubree could add nothing else, not sure she could trust her voice as she settled what a mess she had just gotten herself into. She had come to Pandora to chase her dream, to make a difference and find her place in the universe, not to be gratuitously humiliated and mocked by an overgrown kid. No way she would allow that, not at twenty-seven.

With the addition of avatars as potential new clan members among the Omatikaya, a new rite of passage emerged - the Introduction. In general, it was comparable to the period when native adolescents were ready to embark on the path of rebirth. A night festival was dedicated to them in which dreamwalkers presented themselves to the people. It had been unofficially established for a few years now and usually coincided with the avatar’s optimal body mastery. It had taken Aubree a couple of weeks, a period when Lo’ak had not exactly spared her from prying and equivocal jokes and glances, but now that she was officially an avatar in training to become Omatikaya, things could only get worse.

Lo’ak was her assigned mentor.

To describe that being formed by the youngest Sully son was awful was an understatement. It was pure torture.His sole purpose was to torment her from the moment she stepped outside Hell’s Gate until the moment she put it back in. From sunrise to sunset, seven days a week - excluding a few sporadic days of freedom. Usually spent doing the work for which she had come to Pandora. Studying.

Fatigue marked her face to where it was impossible not to notice, and Lo’ak was keen to let her know he had noticed.

“Trouble sleeping, princess? Did they stick a pea under your mattress? Or maybe you had a wild night out. Bummer I couldn’t be there. I wouldn't mind seeing those pretty little boobies again.”

Asshole.

One day, dealing with the guy had become particularly untenable. Aubree needed to do something, and fast.

She interrupted the day's training and rushed back to headquarters to confront Norm and the olo'eyktan. Too bad the latter intercepted her first.

“Wuo-oh-oh, what’s going on here? Where you off to?” “I can’t take it anymore,” she confessed, almost breathlessly. “Your son is...is...” She would have had many unkind epithets to call him, one meaner than the other, convinced that Lo’ak deserved them all, from first to last, but in front of his father, she bit her tongue, merely grunting. “Lo’ak can be... difficult,” he said it as if an entire ecosystem was encapsulated in that simple word. And to some extent, it fulfilled its purpose, but simultaneously, it fell short. “What if we switch places?” “Excuse me?” “Since things aren’t going smoothly between the two of you, I’ll mentor you from now on.”

That was the beginning of the end.

Jake was a good karyu (teacher). Patient and understanding, aware of Aubree’s limited physical abilities. The girl was not a soldier; she was a lab rat, a bookworm, and going too hard on training made no sense. The man had a kindness towards her he had never shown, even to his daughters. Almost too permissive, and this made the Ph.D. student forget he was not just anyone.

Jake was the olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya.

This made her bold and overconfident. The formal tone disappeared with his title, replaced by more casual conversations, banters, and wry remarks. Sometimes even unmistakable glances. The boundaries of their teacher-student relationship were blurring into something unknown and dangerous. It was unseemly for Aubree to have a crush on him.

The girl took pains to hide her true emotions. He was a committed man; she repeated to herself, complete with children, and he was at least twice her age. She couldn't help but think about the man's age, which was old enough to be her father. But damn, she had never seen a hotter dad. He was smoking hot.

Shit, stop it right NOW.

“Are you still with me?” “Pardon?” “Stop daydreaming. Let's be honest, you do it often. It doesn’t work. Not if you aspire to be one of us.”

One of them. She wondered if she had what it took to give up her humanity. She shouldn’t desire someone else’s man to begin with.

“Let’s get back into position. Back straight, one foot back, hold your breath and draw your bow.” Jake stood behind her. “Your arms are too stiff.” His hands slipped from her shoulders and reached for her pelvis to turn it properly, but that made her gasp. He frowned as if to scold her for losing her posture.

He seemed to be in a foul mood today. The usual patience he seemed to reserve for her was gone. Aubree couldn’t see the growing frustration that had been eating at him since he had met her. She had no inkling of the thoughts that were gnawing at his soul. His mind kept wandering to the forbidden scenarios he dreamed up. Fantasies he should not have had, not about her. He was about to say something biting, but when he saw her face, the words vanished.

She had shiny round eyes, blushing cheeks and nose, and inviting parted lips. A purplish hue was about to invade her neck.

If he had kept staring, she would have seen him coming for sure. Instead, he ran right into her. With barely a rustle in the air, he forcefully lifted her face with his hand and imprinted his mouth onto hers. She stumbled backward, her head slamming against the tree bark. The impact left her momentarily dazed and a sharp pain shot through her skull. Closing her eyes or making any movement was impossible, as he had a vice-like grip on her cheek and neck. She tried to wriggle out of that almost grotesque contact.

What was it? A kiss? His lips were sealed, his body tense against hers and his forehead contracted. The grip mean. She pushed him away harder with the sudden urge to scream at him and finally broke away. She caught a flash of something in his eyes. Perhaps it was anger and welcomed it as a reflection of her own. The hand snapped automatically, and the acute pop on his cheek was as liberating as the burning in her palm. Aubree did not speak, still furious, and Jake took a few seconds to turn his face toward her.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he said, seemingly calm despite his clenched jaw and flashing gaze. She dared not answer, which only caused a sinister smile to cripple the man’s handsome face. “You’re in big trouble, baby girl.”

“Where are we?” ”The old shack." “But you said—.” “I know what I said,” he snapped. She bit her lip to stifle any giggles and we entered the abandoned, silent mobile laboratory, uncertain whether to say anything. Suddenly, the boldness she had had up to that moment seemed to disappear under the flickering neon light of the links section.

Aubree took courage and ventured to lift her head. It was like flipping a switch. The tension grew, and the door leading to the food court opened. At least a dozen scenes played out in slow motion in her mind, as they looked at each other reflected in the mirrored wall that outlined one side of the small room. But Jake didn’t look intent on taking her there. Not right away, at least.

Why wasn’t he talking? His lips were tight and his posture tense. Perhaps she had misinterpreted and was not attracted to her.

In silence, they reached one last door, which must have been broken down, because Jake had to force it open. He stepped aside to let her in, and with a hint of anxiety, she stepped forward into the dimly lit interior. The woman could distinguish a couch, a series of monitors on the wall, a few photos. The sound of the door closing behind her made her jerk, and she turned toward him, truncating him, already watching her.

“Jake.” Was he not going to turn on the light?

He approached her with an indecipherable expression, her heart beat faster in her chest, but she sighed with relief when she smelled his scent again. A million questions clogged her throat.

“Jake.” “Hmm?” “Do you want me?” she asked him in a thread of voice. His lips brushed her forehead, and she felt him smile in the darkness. “If I want you...” he said, leaving the sentence hanging. He grabbed her by the arm, making her turn around, and pushed her against the door. Then he made her body cling to his and whispered in her ear, “You’re having fun, aren’t you, little girl?” She felt goose bumps forming where his breath blew. “Doing what?” she asked, resting her head against the metal surface of the door. “To challenge me,” he said, rubbing his lips on her neck in an imaginary path. “That’s all you’ve been doing since I met you.” His rough voice was setting her on fire. “In that little white dress, without a bra, I’ve been thinking about it for days.” “I thought Na’vi didn’t mind nudity,” she provoked him.

I’m not Na’vi.

Jake closed his hands over her breasts and in response she bent her neck back, parting her lips to gather more oxygen. He lifted his arm, but before she could touch him, he grabbed both her wrists and locked them above her head. Then his lips were on her again, more firmly this time. She could distinctly feel the contours, the softness, the moist saliva that impregnated them. He found a flap under her earlobe and took it between his teeth, sucking lasciviously; Aubree stifled a moan and tried to move against him. It was not enough for her; she wanted more, much more. The fire was raging.

“Come,” he said, barely moving away. “Huh?” she mumbled, confusedly. He detached himself from her without letting go of her wrists and guided her to the sofa he had been eyeing earlier. Aubree would have liked to look at his face to see what he was up to, but she dared not to talk back. “Hands on the backrest.” The authoritative tone, the deep voice, left no room; this was the Olo’eyktan speaking. She swallowed and slowly placed her palms on the solid cushions. “Bend over,” he ordered again, and she shuddered as a strange instinct was surfacing within her. The scientist obeyed silently and turned her head, resting her left cheek, surely flushed, on the fabric. She could feel her heart pulsing against her rib cage and the edge of the couch pressing against her sternum.

She felt his hands curve over her hips and slide down to the fastening of her shorts. “From now on, these clothes are banned. You wanna be Omatikaya? Be Omatikaya.” With a powerful tug, he pulled them down. Aubree distinctly heard the fibers tearing. “You can keep these instead,” he asserted, running his fingers along the fabric of her lace panties. The woman held her breath as his icy fingers caressingly furrowed the flesh of her bottom.

As he thought about it, Jake realized that the delicate fiber and intricate designs of Earth women's lingerie were something he missed.

“No shenanigans to throw? You are so quiet,” he provoked her, and she exhaled an eager giggle. “On the other hand, you are talkative, sir.”

A harsh, searing pain shot through her the moment his hand spanked her; the air choked in her throat and she squinted. She licked her dry lips and let out a hiss.

“Say my name,” he ordered peremptorily, and she realized he had done it on purpose. He wanted her to answer him so that he could continue. Aubree didn’t really know the direction she was going, but she heard how a voice called to her like a muse. “Ma’olo’eyktan?” she ventured, and clenched her jaw, wincing at his second slap. She felt the vibration of his palm transmit throughout her body and the girl had no more doubts. The rush of glee that had electrified her brain was caused precisely by him. “Mr. Sul—.” He changed angles swiftly and she could not hold back the trembling moan that rang out perfectly clear in the silence. His hand caressed the burning skin and bent over her. “Don’t hold back,” he told her before another clapper echoed through the air. Her legs trembled, and this time, her cunt pulsed in response. Aubree moved her arms and clutched the edges of the pillows, searching for any foothold as she felt lost in a completely unfamiliar ocean of dire pleasure.

The fifth spank made her neck tense, and her lips twisted into a mute and perfect O, still trying to suppress any sound. She waited for a handful of seconds for his hand, which did not come, and relaxed her muscles. The pop came unexpectedly and louder than the previous ones. She groaned, caught by surprise.

She heard him click his tongue and his feet spread her legs; the embarrassment of being totally exposed suddenly rained down on her, but she could not move a muscle. His hand slipped between her thighs and peeled back the texture of her thong; his fingers grazed her glistening intimacy, and he moved them slowly, before slipping one in with disarming ease. She opened her eyes wide at that single touch and moaned even louder.

“Oh, come on, I barely grazed you...” his voice was hoarse, mocking, and he went deeper, beginning to kiss her back. Aubree hated the camisole that separated his lips from her skin. Her thoughts now disconnected, and arched her spine as she reached an exceptionally sensitive spot.

“Jake, please,” she gasped, and he bit her shoulder, now completely spread-eagled on her. Aubree sensed his erection pressing against her thigh and levered her arms up. She couldn’t take it anymore. She forced him up and turned away, ignoring the dizziness that rose from that sudden movement.

It must have surprised him, because he did not react immediately. She looked at him, scarcely illuminated by the moonlight glow peeking through the window. He was so handsome it was sickening. Taking his face in her hands, she kissed him, pushing him backward toward the couch. He grabbed her neck with his hand and pulled her away, stiffening. She could not look into his eyes, but she could hear his breath catch.

What was he thinking about? Were the kisses too intimate? Was this something reserved for Neytiri? He could fuck others like concubines, but he couldn’t romance? Was he going to punish her again?

She would never have known, but a few seconds later, it no longer mattered; Jake fiercely brought his mouth together with hers. His warm tongue explored the watery interior, the groove of teeth, rubbing against its twin. He took her head in his hands and she felt as light as a balloon, as if she had been drugged. She encircled him with her arms to hold him close, but the man reversed the situation and she found herself lying on the couch.

He stood for a few seconds and she looked down at her without a word as he unbuckled his warrior waistband, then abandoned on the floor somewhere. He was on top of her and Aubree soured on his scent, kissing any spot she could reach, hearing him swear at the loincloth.

His movements became eager. He carelessly slipped off her panties and spread her legs apart, tracing her body with his palms and then bringing her wrists over her head. The man entered her all the way, without warning, and she stifled a gasping sob in response to his choked sigh; he took a fast, pounding rhythm right away and the slight initial discomfort soon vanished. She encircled his waist with her legs, pinning him against her, without registering that her thong was sagging to her ankle, and tried to go at him with her pelvis.

Each mighty thrust was a jab into the bowels and then invest a violent sensation of enjoyment. The scientist murmured something incoherent as she felt the thrusts become erratic; he bent over her, felt her labored breath in his hair and branded her neck with the outline of his canines. She emitted a hoarse wail and realized she was close.

“Let m-my ... arms,” sounded more like a plea. The desire to hold him had become irresistible and disruptive. “Forget it. Come for me, baby girl.” The arching sound of that nickname set her on fire permanently. Liquid waves swept over her, clouding her thoughts, and her vocal cords made it inexorably clear, echoing through the hall like an echo.

He sank into her again, two, three, four strokes, before emitting a low moan and coming out of her, spilling onto her belly.

Aubree could not tell how long they stood listening to each other’s heart relaxed. Jake slumped to her side, releasing her wrists, and she brought a hand between his dark dreadlocks: they were softer and smoother than one might imagine. As she re-emerged from that velvet bamboozlement, she felt him rise from her.

Noises came from somewhere in the old, abandoned workshop. Then his figure came back into her field of vision, leaning over her to gently clean her abdomen. The woman was grateful because she felt as if sucked out of all energy.

She had not felt so deeply fulfilled in a very long time and wanted to enjoy that feeling to the fullest.

“You good to go back to HQ on your own?” he asked her, finishing removing his traces from her, breaking the magic. “Yes,” she murmured in a whisper, slightly intimidated and incredibly embarrassed now that reality was shattering over her.

It had been a quickie, a onetime thing consummated with the urgency of provocation getting the better on common sense.

Jake was Olo’eyktan, a family man with a spouse to whom he owed his devotion. An episode like that would never happen again, and Aubree clung to it as if that memory was worth her life.

The memory of the day she had really gotten into big, big trouble.

Notes: this fanfic did not turn out at all as I had wished, it should have been much longer, with a richer storyline, but I wanted to share it with you anyway. Hope you liked it💕

Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

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a-friendly-fangirl · 8 months

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Random thoughts on We're in Love (or "Your average Italian girl has had an awful week and Boygenius' love saves her ass again"):

So, I've been listening to the Boys and to their solo stuff the whole week (for the past 5 months, to be honest... but who's counting?) and I've been going crazy lately for the beauty of We're in Love.

I think we can all acknowledge that that song is one of the greatest songs in "The Record" and one of the best ever written. And then I started bawling, when my mind got stuck on its lyrics and realised just how heartbreaking and beautiful it is.

This will be kind of my personal analysis (also inspired by some suggestions here and there... thank you to all the geniuses around that have noticed certain things. I wish I could write down all your names, but my memory is awful), so if you disagree with it or feel the need to add something, do it. I'd be happy to meet more Boygenius fans!

Ok, I'd like to begin with the third and fourth line of the first verse, where Lucy sings: "I don't need the symbol of a scar/ So put down the knife, we're not swapping blood". And yet, in "The film", Julien still takes a blood oath with the young versions of Lucy and Phoebe. I think that this was such an interesting choice to make, considering the difference between the words and the actions. This actually makes sense though, when underlining that 20$ is Julien's song and these words belong to Lucy.

Julien, as her solo albums readily witness, has no real problem with hurting herself ('Cause I'm so good at hurting myself - Brittle Boned) both physically and psychologically. We also know, from 20$, that she does believe in being connected to Phoebe and Lucy in every universe or life (In another life we were arsonists). Lucy does too with them (And I told you of your past lives; In the next one [life], will you find me? - We're in Love). Same goes for Phoebe, even though it's a little more subtle with her. In fact, more than believing in other lives, she seems to believe in changing herself in the present life, so much that, even though Emily I'm Sorry is her song, she has decided to sing it with her best friends, because, maybe, she'd rather be someone that can be loved by them in particular and not someone only Emily "could want".

To better understand the scar line/imagery, I think it important to notice that Julien doesn't take the blood oath with her adult friends but with their younger selves. In my opinion, it's like a machine has brought them in Julien's universe or timeline to help her get out of her home, which, listening to her music, is a synonym of recovery or at least of a better state of mind (in Go Home and Please Stay, it is quite clear: "I wanna go home, I'm sick", while in Graceland Too she finally gets out once she's feeling better). But, not belonging there (and we know they don't thanks to Julien's surprised expression when she sees little Phoebe), pehaps she's afraid that she'll lose them once they're done with the car, therefore asking them to do that oath. Childhood scars never fully leave us, so Julien might be convinced that it'll help adult Phoebe and Lucy to remember her, once they meet as intended or hoped.

When you think about it, the layers here are so many that it's scary. Scars have always at least a touch of negativity, even when you get them for something not negative per se (I have so many scars I got from running around as a child...), because they always follow pain. Julien and Phoebe have dealt with it their whole life and have actively put themselves through it more than once, so of course Julien chooses to use a knife (which also brings us back again to Please Stay: "The hunting knife you kept by your bed". I don't think the mention in We're in Love is a coincidence) against herself if it means being sure Phoebe and Lucy know it's her. But Lucy stops her for two main reasons:

Julien won't have to wait for them to find her, because she and Phoebe will, according to Lucy, be the ones going to her, if they want to (Will you find me?);

Instead of remembering each other through something painful, they could use the happy and positive memories they've shared in this life. Lucy once again wants to do everything in her power to dismantle her friends' self-destructive tendencies and replace them with something good (even the "happy" in Letter to an Old Poet was her suggestion).

Moving on to the next lines (Isn't it enough that we stripped down to our skin?/ Cold and porcelain like bathers in a painting), the beauty of this specific portrait delivered by Lucy kind of proves the point just made. Saying that the skin is "cold" and "porcelain" delivers a poetic image of extreme fragility that could be both literal or figurative and it shows just how much they trust each other. What Lucy appears to be pointing out is that she doesn't need any more pain to believe they're in love with each other, since they've already done the great sacrifice of showing themselves when they were most vulnerable (something they're still learning to do, according to recent interviews).

In Lucy's specific case (And I told you of your past lives, every man you've ever been/ It wasn't flattering, but you listened like it mattered), I'd go as far as to think that she did that by letting Phoebe and Julien listen to the stories of her past friendships or even relationships, telling them whom she had had by her side before them. She sings that that tale wasn't flattering: why? If I had to express myself on that, I'd guess, by her albums, that, just like any other human being, even Lucy has had a lot of troubled bonds with people she might have wrongly thought were as true and loyal to her as the Boys are now (take Strange Torpedo, Nonbeliever or Brando as examples). My personal take on this part is that she hasn't tried to tell Phoebe and Julien who they've been in the past, but to confess them who had had their roles in her life previously, feeling perhaps embarassed by it. But they're in no way bored or mad at her for that, listening, however, "like it mattered" (quoting True Blue: "It doesn't matter anymore", 'cause they're together now, but it is still important to her that they are paying attention to this part of her story).

She also admits being open to them about her own insecurities, especially the fear of being or seeming crazy (I feel crazy in ways I never say/ Will you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?/ I know what you'll say, but it helps to hear you say it anyway), making herself vulnerable by exposing this side of her she usually keeps hidden in hope of being reassured by them, which they've probably done a thousand times already.

Long story short, coming to the end of the first chorus: Lucy loves and values them for the trust they've put in each other and no scar will ever match that feeling. I have a lot more to say about the rest of the song, but this is mostly me ranting about it, so I'll see how it goes. Sorry for all of this :P

#boygenius #julien baker #lucy dacus #phoebe bridgers #i love them #music #we're in love #lyrics analysis

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uwublorbos · 3 months

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Blorbo Spotlight: Trynnt

Howdy gamers! In today's spotlight we have a character from Pip/Pyppyn (he/they) @pyppyn. Go check out their blog!

Who do we have the pleasure of speaking with today?

Excelsior! I'm Trynnt! That's Explorer or Artificer Trynnt if we're using titles, but I just like my name.

What's your background? Where do you come from?

I'm from a smaller settlement on the Tarnished Coast called Rata Kasus. It's a good way away from Rata Sum but there are just as many krewes and labs at work out there. Fishing too, your regular coastal town. I graduated from the College of Synergetics and apprenticed with a few different krewes before making my own way in the world. These days I live in Lion's Arch with my family!

What are some important relationships in your life? (romantic, platonic, familial, etc)

I'm lucky to have two romantic partners - my wife Seffi and our other partner Welxx. His name may not be on our marriage contract but he's every bit important to us. They both mean the world to me and I'm glad to have made a life with them.

My other closest relationship would have to be my older brother Czoll. He and Seffi always looked out for me when we were little and to this day he's the kindest, most caring person I know. I love 'ya, big guy.

I have some great friends as well! i could talk to Zexx for hours about jewelcraft and chronomancy and the same goes for Neffh's understanding of the magitechnical use of necromancy. It's been a delight to work and learn with them and I'll always enjoy the time we spend together. True geniuses and great people, both of them.

This ah- this list would get really long if I kept going, so I'll move on!

Have you done anything you'd like to brag about?

You're giving an Asura an opportunity to brag? You're either very brave or very foolish and will regret this by the time I'm done!

I'm an elementalist - a weaver specifically - and I've always been fascinated by the way different kinds of magic interact. It all exists in a kind of balance across a broad spectrum. Not just the four elements, but everything! It's always changing, working in harmony at one point or total dissonance at another. That kind of ordered chaos got me thinking.

I'm also an artificer - an inventor. I make machines and technologies that I hope to use to better the world around us. Tyria's changed a lot in the past decade, and now more than ever is it important that we rebuild and we've been given an amazing opportunity to do that thanks to Aurene and Her unique fusion of different magics that should react violently - but don't!

-ah bolts, I'm rambling. I made a machine that uses prismaticite to alter the state of magic from one input to another! I call it the Prismatic Aetherconverter. Turns out if you cut those crystals in the precise way, you can alter their output of magic. Put that assembly in a channel and feed magic through the whole system, you get a means of shifting its attunement to your exact specifications.

I use this for my other craftwork. It's a great way to speed up enchanting or charging magitech and it's a great source of magic for study in lab environments! I hope to improve its scalability and introduce a number of different form factors in the coming years, make magic more accessible to the masses.

What's your profession? What does a typical day look like for you?

I'm an explorer with the Durmand Priory. I joined almost ten years ago now and my responsibilities there vary from day to day.

If I'm out in the field it probably means I'm part of an expedition or a Pact taskforce looking to discover something or solve a problem. For me that often means I'm a small part of a much bigger team. Excavation, ruins-delving, anomalous materials handling. Everybody's important and everybody's got their role to fill. What we uncover tends to end up in my lab for analysis and adaptation into artifice.

If I'm working back at the Priory proper, I serve a logistics role. Any equipment requests for advanced technology, enchanted items, and specialized tools flow through me and artificers like me - a golem suit for hazardous environments, a camera designed to look into the Mists, or special munitions for use against dragon minions, for instance.

I find the work to be quite fulfilling!

What are some hobbies you enjoy?

I like to collect and restore old technology for starters! Really old - stuff my grandparents would have used. Datapads, audio devices, communicators, golems and golemites, that sort of thing. A lot of it doesn't work but it has a history all the same. We Asura don't have many connections to our past because of the Elder Dragons, so it feels like a way to look back on where we came from.

I play Polymock too. I was never good enough for the pro leagues but what could be more fun than some simulated holographic violence between Tyria's deadliest monsters? There's a card game variant too that makes for good entertainment on longer expeditions.

If all of that wasn't enough, Seffi's good at keeping me active! We swim or go on hikes or head out to Tyria's different mountain ranges for rock climbing. We don't bother with climbing back down though - that's what gliders are for! She calls me a cheater for using earth magic to speed my way up the cliffs, but she sure doesn't complain about more airtime after the fact. The Festival of the Four Winds is the best time for it - tall rocks, strong currents, and the summer sun? Alchemy, that's just perfect.

That's all for today! If you're an UWU guild member and would like to put your character in the spotlight, use this form!

#uwu blorbo posting #spotlight #scheduled post

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factorialsotherfandoms · 5 months

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Hello welcome to another installment of the XCOM QSMP au, in which we finally discover how Mike got himself kidnapped! As fair warning, the ending of this one is fucking miserable, and I still have an ending to write. You're also lucky. On ao3 this one is going to be chapterfic, but I've already written the last bit and included it in this post.

There's some also really weird shit going on with the soul link this time. Full on body swapping/sharing. The first section is a bit weird for it, but just go with it, okay? Thanks!

Oh and I did Felps' PoV of the middle bit yesterday. You can find it here

TW: self-sacrifice, suicidal thinking, open but miserable ending.

Tazercraft are exactly where, and how, they are supposed to be. Two minds, two souls, two bodies, but the lines between them are blurred. They're deep in the heart of a Federation office, searching for information on where the Hunter's base could possibly be - they've found the Assassin's, and Aypierre thinks if they hit the bases they'll find some way to take the respawning fuckers out for good, but they'll need to be quick so they don't get wise to it.

Pac drops out of a vent into the control room, and trades souls with Mike. Mike now pilots Pac's body through searching the computers, while Pac pulls Mike's body into the vents and through to the same room.

There's no need to speak, not like this, not when their thoughts are one and the same and every change in the plan is communicated as soon as it is thought.

Pac sings as he works, but he sings in his soul, ancient music replaying internally as he sways the hips of whichever body he's more inside, and where-ever Mike is that other body's foot taps along to the beat.

Another second, another sway, another shift of ideas, and they're both in their own flesh again as he scoots up into the rafters, keeping watch while his other gets to work on another of the computers. They might be puppetting their own bodies now, there's too much of them merging together to truly be Pac and Mike at all. It's Pac's body, and Mike's body, and Pac's mind and Mike's mind in perfect harmony as they swap back and forth, blurred and combined and shifting bodies as their skills are needed.

It's so nice to be like this again. In a full unit, it's good, but they have to watch out for everyone. There's no Pac getting lost in Mike and Mike getting lost in Mike until the division is meaningless and they can rest in each other when there's more people around. Because they truly do get lost in one another, and together they are more than the sum of their parts, but it's not conductive to a shootout in a backalley.

But when it's just the two of them? It's just like old times again.

Like this its just them, them, them, two people two minds two bodies two souls all blended together by years and years inside one another, catch and release catch and release, a standing wave, two harmonies fused into a single song. They've done this before, and they'll do it again - Pac and Mike, Mike and Pac, Tazer and Craft and a high security complex, one thought in two bodies and the sharp laughter of an expert at their craft.

Pac isn't Pac, he is Tazer, and Mike isn't Mike he is Craft, and together they are the greatest fear of every security detail on the planet. Paired geniuses in perfect synch and their eyes on a prize.

They dance and they move to a shared, silent beat, slipping around the guards and the workers and anything else that might be present. It's the fourth or fifth of these places they've come looking - there's time for maybe one more after this, before their supplies run dry and they either vanish into the night, or call back to base and get a pickup.

They've not found what they came for - yet - but there's plenty of other things they have learnt, things which will earn a pretty penny if they end up in the right ears.

Pac sits in the rafters, watching both with his own eyes as Mike's robotic rats scurry around each attaching themself to a different computer and draining it dry, even as Mike works on overpowering the main one.

Pac also watches through Mike's eyes as he lets software fight through seven different password screens, then navigate around.

And there it is - photos of the complex they need, and lovely, lovely coordinates. Another team will be sent to find the way - Tazercraft are too good at getting in, other people can't always follow, and it will need a team - but they have what they came for.

And plenty of other things to barter with besides.

Mike recalls his rats, tapping them each and ordering them to reassemble themselves into a tablet. He copies the data from the main computer to said tablet - the rats both speed up the process over many devices, and spread the data between them minimise what is lost.

Mike's soul whoops with the success, and Pac's joins him with a laugh and a twist. They let themselves merge in their delight, joy radiating back and forth, before seperating again. It's time to head out - not back the way they came, in case tracks were spotted, but out none the less.

Pac pulls himself back to his feet, ready to jump down.

Mike holds his gun ready as he reaches for the door, just in case a guard lies on the other side.

The door is opened.

A trap is triggered

Tazer slams into himself

Craft slams into the floor

"Mike!" Pac screams, as the shock of Mike being hit throws his balance, and he falls to the floor.

Tazer and Craft are no more; they are Pac and Mike once again. Pac pulls himself from the floor and reaches for his gun and - shit, he left it behind again. Mike's tablet splits back into robot rats. They run up to him - all over him - clinging to his jumpsuit even as their eyes meet.

The data they have taken, escaping from the trap.

"Pac!" Mike screams back, terror reverberating along their bond.

There's a net around Mike's legs, made with concrete and vines and awful, glooping gel. He's plastered to the floor, unable to get up - unable to run.

Pac stumbles his first few steps towards him, and begins to run. He reaches his Mike's side, and tries to cut away the ropes. It won't come - it refuses to come, it won't it won't, and it's the diamonds all fucking over again.

He can't even swear at him; Mike can't even speak. Wide eyes meet wide eyes, and their bond explodes through with terror.

Standing wave, amplification; Pac takes a moment to breathe through the fear, forcing it calm, forcing it tame. Mike takes a few seconds longer to do so; by the time his name is called, Pac has his sword out and is hacking through the ropes.

It's slow going, but it goes; they get out together or not at all, just like it's always been.

There's laughter - grim laughter - from the rafters. Pac grabs Mike's gun, and points it up that way as he shields Mike with his body.

The laugh sounds again - behind them - and again - no back the other way. They twist, and watch, and when finally his back is turned Pac hears someone screaming his name.

"MIKE!" he turns back, only to see... Purple skin, glowing purple eyes, hood covering his face and his body. Custom rifle, snake tongue flicking over very human teeth as he grins.

Hunter.

Fuck.

Pac grabs onto Mike, and tries to pull him out; the Hunter laughs, and steps forwards, every step shooting panic through Pac's spine.

"Look at what the cat dragged in, just for me," the Hunter grins as he says it. "Two little /rats/."

With the final word his features turn sharp. He lashes out, psionic whip snapping Pac's face to the side as it tears through his skin.

At least Mike isn't hit.

"There's at least eight rats in here, asshole," Mike calls. "You'll have to be more specific."

/Pac, run/

/Mike I won't leave you/

/Pac!/

/Mike!/

"Really?" another step; they're both stuck in the trap, the Hunter can take what he wants, whatever he wants, and neither of them can resist. "Because I can only see the two."

/We have to get the coordinates out/

/The rats could send them/

/The radios are blocked here/

/Mike/

/Leave me. I'll be fine./

"Maybe you need glasses. I've spares in my pocket if you want to try."

"I don't think so."

/There's two billion people living in this territory, Pac, if we can get the coordinates out and someone to stop him.../

"/Fuck you/" Pac thinks, and he says, because fuck it Mike is right, but he doesn't want him to be.

He isn't seventeen any more; this is no museum, or art gallery, or even a lab. He's not holding paintings or diamonds or stolen pharmaceuticals. It's six robotic rats, and a set of coordinates, and a half of Mike's soul.

If Tazer lives, then Craft can never die.

"Already down to such foul language? Such a shame. I was told you were worth something," the Hunter sneers.

"Fuck the both of you," Pac hisses in Mike's ear. "I'll come back for you, asshole."

He will, he will, he has to, he takes his knife, throws it at the Hunter, and in the distraction Pac runs.

Behind him, Mike screams profanities fights and struggles and Pac catches the drift of hands picking him up and manic laughter through the bond - not a shot, a kidnapping, he /can/ come back at least but oh god the torture and he's left Mike be and what do they want - before Mike shutters most of it off.

Pac clings to him as he runs, feet pounding on old concrete. All around him he can hear the echoes giving chase, but he has to get out, he has to - get the coordinates away, get out, get help, come back and save Mike!

And-!

And Pac's grip on Mike drops and, fuck, he's been teleported. Somewhere away.

He could be... He could be /anywhere/ Pac doesn't even know if he's still on /Earth/.

Fuck Mike, fuck Mike in paticular; once all they had was themselves and each other, and all was well in the world no matter where they were. And now Mike is gone - gone, gone, in cruel hands, to be tormented and tortured and Pac tries to reach out but he's too far, too far, distant and hurting and all Pac can hear is his screams.

Pac keeps running.

The Federation's hounds are gaining on him.

He can't stop the tears, when they come, they come and keep coming and never seem to end.

Left and right and up and out and then he's in the city ruins but they keep coming and coming and coming. They're slower out here - the ruins are his domain, child of crime and the streets as he once was. He rips himself through blown-out windowframes, yanks long-broken shelves down behind him, scutters and leaps and crawls and twists through the ruins.

Mike is faint, but alive, pained, but alive, screaming, but alive, their bond weak but throbbing like an open wound as whatever is done to Mike is done.

Pac does his best to send hope, and surely only manages terror, and keeps running.

---

Pac cannot run forever.

Eventually, he collapses in the shelter of a ruin. The sound of the guards, the aliens, and whatever else are distant. He's not lost them - not exactly, they know his general direction, just not where /he/ is.

The robotic mice scramble out of his pockets, rebuilding themselves into a single entity again. It's almost tablet shaped, but not quite - the important part is their small screens align to make one larger one. Pac pulls out his radio, and navigates through the files.

He's not as quick as Mike, not at things like this - the rats belong to Mike, Pac's just also keyed in to use them. Pac knows the construction but less so the coding of the masterpiece; he rests it on his keeps and starts sobbing all over again, at what might be the last piece of Mike-Mike-Mike he ever holds.

Without the presence of mind to be complicated about it, Pac just hopes the settings on his radio are fine. He shoves the batteries back in, and turns it on, and begins to read off the coordinates on screen. He isn't sure how well he does - he's sobbing and it's all be can do to cling to his legs and the radio and not rock, not risk dislodging the unstable wall right behind him.

He recognises the voice that answers, but that is all. The words make no sense, so he keeps chanting, chanting, chanting what he can see on screen. Coordinates for the Hunter's base, coordinates to where the fucker lives, too close to be where he took Mike but distant all the same. Pac repeats it and repeats it and barely hears the words from the other end of the line.

He hears his name and... A request for clarification. Pac stumbles his way through, stuttered and confused, does his best to say, to explain. There's swearing and the tears bubble into a laugh because - yes - shit shit shit is very very correct.

And then the voice asks about Mike, and Pac's crying all over again. He tries his best to say, but he clings to the bond, and doesn't think he ever could.

The line goes quiet - is that the end? Did he do what he needed to?

Can he let himself be caught, now, get them to bring him back to Mike?

Will they finally-

A wall nearby is blown up.

Pac shrieks.

It startles him enough to end the tears.

No, no, they wouldn't be so kind as to bring him to Mike. If he wants Mike... If he wants Mike, he has to bring himself to him.

He's lost his knife, but he still has Mike's gun.

Pac reloads it quickly, and aims through the window - just in time. A Federation guard notices him, raises a hand to it's comms.

There's a bullet through it's skull before it can press them, and then another few for good measure.

"Pac!!!" The radio crackles back to life.

Pac finally, finally recognises Felps' voice and, oh god, for how long has he been screaming for Pac to listen.

There's terror in Felps' voice, and Pac wonders if his eyes are blown just as wide as his own.

"Just..." Pac gasps for breath, still unsteady. "Just a guard. Just a guard."

"Pac, you need to run." Felps' tone is dire, serious, and it makes shudders up Pac's spine. "Please, Pac?"

Having passed the message on, Pac can feel the adrenaline crashing. Every bruise and every break from the fall, every strained muscle, every wound where gunfire just missed him - or hit less sensitive flesh. The skin around his prosthetic smarts, and he knows he's pushed it too far.

He's pretty sure his left wrist is broken, but he can prop the gun on his forearm, so he'll live.

He's also tired, he's so fucking tired.

That might be harder.

And Mike...

Pac does the opposite of what Felps asks, slumping against a broken wall, "But..."

He doesn't know what to say.

"For me?"

The request from the radio is soft, gentle, almost lost in the static. Pac /whines/ in response, but uses his good arm to push himself from the wall. He clips the radio to one strap across his chest, and the rat-screen to his belt.

Grabs the gun, blinks through the wave of black threatening his vision.

He's always been weak to be asked to do things for others.

He's always been weak to be asked to do things for /Mike/, but he's been weak to Felps for a damn long time too.

"Okay," he whispers, pretty sure it won't be heard. "For you."

Pac stumbles more than runs, unsure where to head except /on/. Away from the corpse, away from the facility, away from everything that's going on. Vaguely he's aware that he's following his soulbond, staggering closer and closer to Mike despite knowing he's too far, that he'll never reach him like this.

Worry brushes him along the bond, sharp worry, and Pac can but hysterically giggle; Mike is captured, surely being tortured or at least waiting for it, and yet he has time to worry about Pac?

He won't say no, though; Pac rests his mind against the worry and lets it switch off. He stops listening, stops hearing, just one foot, one foot, one foot, stumbling along like he was asked to.

"Pac, don't leave me," the radio asks of him. "I need you."

It's a low blow; Pac barely even registers as more words are said to him. Mike needs him out, to stage a rescue. Felps needs him... Pac isn't sure what Felps needs of him, but he'll give it all the same. Carve his heart from his chest and hand it over on a platter, if it will help.

Mike gets first refusal, after that... After that it could be anything.

He misses Mike.

Pac begins crying all over again, continuing to stumble on.

And on.

Until his body gives out beneath him, and he clatters into a heap. He can hear Felps calling for him, begging him, screaming for him; Pac can do nothing. He exists in a haze of pain and grief, still sobbing but now unable to lift his head from the concrete.

The sounds of the Federation have gone quiet now, at least.

...

Pac almost wishes for their company, rather than be so alone again.

---[chapter?]---

When the world fades back in, it's to arms belonging to worried eyes scooping him up from the concrete. But they're not the eyes Pac wants - not Mike's eyes - so he doesn't listen to what matching lips have to say. He's carried from the dust to a helicopter, handled carefully as he's strapped into place. Listlessly his eyes follow strong hands, at least until they come near his face.

It taps his cheek, and Pac leans into the warm, and realises he is still - somehow - crying.

"Pac?" a low voice asks.

"Hi Fit," he whispers back, voice dead and broken and full of water.

"Take it easy," Fit replies, brushing his cheek. "Let's get you home. Do you need anything?"

"Mike," he says, without even thinking.

Fit's face breaks, his fingers twitching, "I'm sorry, Pac... I can't... I'm sorry."

Pac knows that, but he needs Mike, he needs Mike like a tree needs the rain.

There isn't anything else; he shuts his eyes, focusing on Fit's warm hand on his cheek and the now dull bond with Mike - he's sleeping, Pac can tell, actually sleeping, with dreams.

He hopes they're good dreams.

His aren't going to be.

---

The next time Pac fades back in, there's saline solution being dripped into his veins. Fit is gone, but Felps is there - holding both of Pac's hands, and leaving none of them for a pacing Forever.

"We told Fit to get some sleep," is the first thing anyone says that Pac actually understands.

Pac thinks he's supposed to care.

He isn't sure he does.

"Where's Mike?" he asks them, he ask them because it's the only thing that matters.

He watches Felps and Forever share a desperate, despairing look.

"We don't know," Forever is the one to bite the bullet and answer. "I'm sorry Pac, I'm so sorry... We've got people out searching. Do you know...?"

"He teleported," Pac whispers. "Hunter... Teleported... I want Mike. I want Mike."

He feels like an idiot - he knows that's the one thing in the world neither of them can give him. Felps even drops his hands, reaching around instead to hug him tightly and shake against Pac's skin.

Pac is shaking too.

Forever joins the hug, trying to soothe Pac and Felps both.

It only serves to make Pac cry all over again.

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mellothetic · 6 months

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How is near v light more interesting than l v light ( not hating I’m really curious cause I’ve never seen anyone say that)

Yeah, that is an unpopular opinion xd. My thoughts on this are a bit vague, but I will try to articulate them as best I can (disclaimer: it turned out to be very long lmao)

Hmm, I said that I find Near vs Light rivarly more interesting character-wise. Now, I really enjoy L vs Light confrontation in an "engaging plot" kind of way. Their interactions are very interesting. Their endless battle of wits is super entertaining, you never know what each of them is going to do next etc etc. But character-wise, it falls a bit flat to me. Why? Well...

Tbh death note is not very good at giving depth to its characters and really exploring their feelings in general lol. But I feel like L and Light barely interact as characters, as humans and not as pieces in this deadly game of chess. Maybe it's just the story DN tried to tell us. Maybe it's due to the fact that L and Light are placed on the pedestal by the narrative. Not in the sense that they are framed as being good or right but like. They are geniuses first and humans second. They are so out of reach for us ordinary people, if you know what I mean xd. And because of that the story explores their relationship on the human level even less than usual.

Now to the Near vs Light. A lot of people say that it's just a cheap repeat of L vs Light, but I disagree. Yes, just like with L, Near and Light are narrative foils. But there are also other interesting and unique concepts tied to their rivarly.

L and Light were very different, but they were also very similar. But Near and Light? They are different in almost every way. And I love that. It's also very interesting to see a character fighting not their original "different side of the same coin" enemy at the finish line, but their enemy's successor. It adds layers and complexity to the story and to the characters' relationships. Also, there's an argument to be made about the stakes of their rivarly being higher. After all, the world is one step away from falling under kira's full control and Near (and Mello) is the last line of defense.

And I guess Near vs Light dynamic just feels a bit more personal. Despite not seeing each other until the very end, it's as if Near and Light engage on a more human level. I love how much they hate and look down on each other and how obvious it all is lmao.

Light thought that he finally won. He was being unchallenged for five years. He became too relaxed and his ego grew even bigger. And that is why he's so pissed that someone came back to bite him in the ass now. And I don't think that Light truly respected L, but he respected Near even less. He thinks that Near is "far inferior to L". And so Light doesn't even try very hard to hide his animosity towards him. As Near himself put it, Light is "lying through his teeth" now all the time.

And Near. He despises everything Light is and he says so himself (and I'm so here for it ghgjdhgd). He's "just a crazy mass murderer" to him. And imo fighting against Kira is more personal for him than it was for L. There's an element in it for Near of wanting to avenge L. And when Mello died, it became even more personal.

I'm going to stop now xd. Not sure if any of this makes any sense, but I hope it was at least an interesting read. Thanks for asking <3

#near #death note #asks #my post

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mickgaydolenz · 1 year

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i was tagged by @birdie-hop (thank you birdie <3!!!) to do a fun new tag game where you list your favourite musicians and (if you want) explain why you like them so much!

so i feel kind of like a bit of an outsider when it comes to music because i tend to be super particular and i don't actually like a lot of musical artists beyond a song or two. there are a lot of little things that tend to put me off of songs or artists, so when i find one i like i tend to latch on to them with everything i've got. this is going to get really long winded because i have a lot to say about one of these artists in particular (Bowie duh), so fucking feel free to just ignore this!

The Beatles -> let me start with my biggest cringefail flop moment of my whole life. i had sworn to never like this group, i used to make fun of my friends who enjoyed them, and then like the biggest hypocritical asshole of all time i watched the stupid fucking get back documentary and have not recovered since. other than being bewitched by their faggotry and crazy internal dynamics, i genuinely really love their music (that was so painful to type...). i think what i appreciate most is something about their music feels both timeless and yet beyond its time??? and the sheer level of musicianship in their works is mind boggling (like holy fuck not to jerk off paul or anything, but watching him pull that song out of his head in -3 seconds in get back rocked my world). they also just genuinely seem to be having fun (until they weren't) and it comes across in their music. as people they fucking suck ngl, but also that's part of the charm (not john lennon though he has issues i can't see beyond so sorry dude dni on sight buddy) because it just shows that they aren't these giga brain geniuses that are beyond mortal comprehension.

Ryuichi Sakamoto -> not going to lie i got into him by way of watching Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence, so that will always add a level of endearment to him as an artist for me. vocally, he isn't the strongest performer, but there is something charming about the sincerity in which he delivers his lines that i appreciate. i love how sakamoto sculps sound, he's so insanely good at cultivating atmosphere especially in his instrumental pieces. the mcml soundtrack is a great example of what he's capable of, and considering he'd never scored a movie prior to that is just insane. his dedication to experimentation and genre hoping is also super admirable, i love that he has experimental sound work but also classical pieces but also 80's poppy numbers. i really appreciate how he incorporates cultural instruments and melodies into his work, modifying them in a way that both retains their significance while allowing room for change. actually here is one of my favourite pieces by him if you want to check it out -> compute, compute, compute

Micky Dolenz -> and like i suppose this also includes the monkees in general, but specifically she is EVERYTHING TO ME!!!! vocally i'm slain every time he opens his mouth, like what a fucking voice and it just keeps going strong. i know every one says this, but micky is truly one of the most underrated vocalists, he deserves so much more recognition for his talent than he has received. also, as a songwriter??? FUCKING WOW!!!! i WISH to GOD he had written more songs, because man oh man the ones he wrote for the monkees are just banger after banger. i think micky's intelligence as a song writer is super insane, his ability to spin a narrative while also handling intense topics all wrapped up in a soft voice that belays the seriousness of the song???? uhm yeah give me more bitch, love that shit. also micky just seems so chill and so kind. not to mention modest; the guy is too modest for his own good, babygirl please you deserve so much more okay??? all in all he seems like the friend that would take you out and get you fucked up beyond belief, but then he'd make you some coffee in the morning, y'know?

David Bowie -> okay, okay, okay, fuck, um he literally means too much to me to even begin to put into coherent words. i've never connected more with a body of work than i have with his music. every facet of his songs -the style, the lyrics, the themes, the sound- speak to me on a visceral level. i still get literal goosebumps listening to certain songs, it's insane how much emotion they inspire in me. he is also the only musical artist where i've listen to his complete discography AND enjoyed most all of it (you don't even understand how HUGE this is for me). As an artist, Bowie is simply unmatched to me; he pushed himself constantly, reinvented himself constantly, tried constantly for his art. that mindset, the desire to push and try new things and not stagnate in the preciousness of your own ego, is something i've tried so hard to incorporate into my own practices. beyond just the music and his art, as a person i've never related more to someone (the good and the bad). so much of my personality has been ripped from and formed by him (that should be embarrassing, and it kind of is, but his mask of confidence and poise has served me soooooo fucking well). Bowie always saw himself as an observer, removed from people, living on the outside looking in on the world and its workings. whether it was a perceived alienation, or a real alienation, or a combination of both, he always felt other. and man oh man if that isn't just the most persistent feeling in my life. anyways to make a long gay story short this dude rules my world and just writing this has me tearing the fuck up <3

okay now that that is done i tag @reignoerme, @sunny-lie-melody, @squeesbysophie, @vintagecocacolainthesun, and @jathis (but only if you want to man!)

#sorry this literally went on forever. but the music i love i really love #david bowie #micky dolenz #ryuichi sakamoto #the beatles

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birthday-of-music · 1 year

Note

RAE hi its leoooo . anywyays. was pondering ritsuleo as one does and had the fun idea of what if they write music for each other but in a way where they're saying something reaalllyyy specific with it. like specific enough that they can have conversations by just handing pieces they've written back and forth. their skilled use of idk specific chords or something (i am not knowledgeable whatsoever in music theory and u can tell) and they can get the specific emotions through just playing or reading the piece. conversations thru music but not through code they're just both music geniuses . you like ritsuleo right any thoughts

HI LEO oh my god i love this so much theyre so... the sillies ever. ALSO ALSO i think bc ritsu definitely is more emotional and stuff with his songs and its like a different side of him that he doesnt express much otherwise? and while leo is. basically the opposite he doesnt really hide how hes feeling if its emotional or sappy it would be a good way to get those emotions across rather than. actually having to say them...... and leo can understand them just as well if not better than if they were spoken because hes just like that and. they make me so insane thank you for this ;-;

#asks #☆ leo 彡 #hope you are okay with. tag.

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lemonluvgirl · 2 years

Text

Blazing Free-An Everlark as Mentors Fic

I’ve been wanting to begin cleaning up my first fic for a while now, and I’m finally getting around to it. Going back and editing your own work is such a weird experience, let me tell you! But since I’ve started the process, I finally got around to making some cover art for 🔥 Burning Bright and Blazing Free 🔥So I decided to share/promote it here on tumblr because I was too embarrassed to promote that story when I first wrote it. I didn’t have a beta reader back then! But hopefully now that the story celebrated its 1 year anniversary a little while ago I’ll be able to edit it properly with an unbiased eye.

Here’s a sample of the first chapter

(Katniss POV)

The 76th Annual Victory Tour,

Two years after Katniss & Peeta’s Hunger Games

President Snow’s Mansion

The Minister of Energy Production places a slimy wet kiss on the back of my hand. I grit my teeth in what I hope looks like a smile.

“My, my, you’re looking lovelier than ever these days Miss Everdeen.” He says in what I think is supposed to be a seductive purr.

I bite back the urge to tell him he’s due for another round of plastic surgery to pull back his double chin that grew in since the last time Peeta and I were here at the President’s mansion, two years ago.

I murmur a quiet thank you and turn away as quickly as I can. I look around for Peeta or Effie or even Deen Sparrow, District 12’s newest victor and the whole reason why this party is being thrown tonight. But I find no one I know. My nose wrinkles up in frustration. Where could he be? We’re not supposed to leave each other’s sides for more than 5 minutes at these kinds of parties, he knows that.

Finally I spotted him. He’s surrounded, cornered really by a group of giggling women in outrageous colors and styles. One of them is wearing a dress so low cut her breasts barely manage to stay contained within the practically sheer fabric. She gripped his bicep through his suit and squeezed playfully. Peeta looked extremely uncomfortable and was slowly trying to inch his way away from the group of predators. I rolled my eyes. He was still too polite for his own good. If it had been me, I’d have stomped on a few toes by now.

This sort of thing has been happening a lot lately. Peeta had mentioned to Haymitch how aggressive the Capitolites had become in pursuit of him ever since we announced our engagement at the beginning of this year. At first I thought he was exaggerating, but this sort of thing has been occurring with increasing frequency.

I stiffened my spine as I quietly slipped over to their group. I knew he needed me now. He never left me to fend for myself when we were in the Capitol and I in turn did the same for him. It was what we did, kept each other safe and alive in this dangerous place. His admirers didn’t even notice my approach, they were too busy fawning and pawing at him.

“You’ve grown so much this year! Taller and handsomer!”

“Your muscle tone is absolutely divine these days! What kind of regimen are you using?”

“What cologne are you wearing? It's simply scrumptious!”

They throw out compliments fast and hard, and Peeta, who is known for being silver tongued, finds a way to bring the conversation back into his territory.

"At my age I've got a few growth spurts still in the cards." Peeta replies quickly. Subtle way to remind them you're barely legal, and most of them are old enough to be your mother, good on you Peeta. I thought as I neared enough to catch the edge of their conversation.

"It's just the cut of the suit, our stylists are geniuses when it comes to tailoring." Oh, yes make them all think it's just a tailoring trick or the lighting.

"Katniss picked out my cologne tonight. I thought it was a little too earthy but you try arguing with the girl who took down three careers twice her size." I almost laughed at that. That was far less subtle. He was practically waving a warning sign at them. Cinna and Portia aren't the only geniuses here tonight.

But for all of Peeta's deflections and warnings the women continued to try and close in around him, staring at him hungrily like starved animals. I study his broad back covered in the expensive silk suit Portia dressed him in and the light catches on his carefully styled hair, making it gleam white gold. I can't deny that any of their assessments are wrong. He has grown up quite a lot this past year, and he's undeniably handsome no matter what he wears. But that doesn't give anyone the right to size Peeta up like a cut of meat at the butcher's shop. I quietly slip an arm around his waist. He bristles for a moment, until he turns and sees it's me. Then his whole body relaxes. There’s an uncomfortable silence that follows when my presence is noted. But I don't care. Let them see. Let them remember. Peeta's not here alone. I will always have his back.

By the tense set of his shoulders I could tell Peeta was searching for an escape from this just as I was. I just want to get away from this horrible party and these vapid people and sneak off into a coat closet somewhere with a plate of those apple and cheese filled appetizers. So I go for broke and snake my arms around his neck and stretch up to catch his mouth in mine.

The kiss takes him by surprise for a moment. But then he recovers and returns my kiss with slow languid responses from his lips, and eventually his tongue. I kiss him unhurriedly, almost lazily, like I have all the time in the world. Of course this kind of kissing starts to make me a little breathless. It's still fairly new, but since we're engaged now Haymitch and everyone agreed we need to make it explicitly clear that Peeta and I are a packaged deal. Practically sealed and signed. Most days that thought scares the living daylights out of me. But in moments like these I'm grateful for the protection we can provide each other. Even if it pushes my boundries slightly.

Peeta's lips continue to work on mine and it sends a little shiver down my spine. After all this time practicing we’re really good at this. It can be unnerving, since we’re really just friends despite the outward appearance we show to the world. But a little heat and showiness is required right now to make my point. These harpies will never let him go unless I stake a public claim. We kiss like this until someone clears their throat, and for a few beats after that. When we break the kiss, look around at the group of women with an unconcerned gaze.

“Sorry, sometimes I get a little impatient when he hasn’t kissed me in over 20 minutes. Right handsome?” I say, laying it on thick, as my gaze locks onto Peeta’s blue eyes again. His pupils are slightly dilated, and he looks a little flushed. I wonder if he’s been drinking too much champagne.

“Right, beautiful.” He answers perfectly on cue and drops his mouth to place a small kiss on the side of my neck. Which is new, and makes me feel just a slight bit wobbly in these horribly high heels. But his arm is around me now, and I don’t stumble. He must be eager to escape these women, since he’s laying it on thick.

“Oh, of course dear. Completely understandable. I'd be the same if he was mine!” Someone says in a high trilling Capitol accent. I can’t tell if it's the woman wearing the rainbow colored hat that’s blowing wisps of smoke in the air behind her head, or if it's the woman wearing what looks like a bikini made of vines and strategically placed flowers.

I frowned at her comment and tightened my hold on Peeta for emphasis. But Peeta cuts in to save me from biting back verbally by smiling and smiling at me in an adoring manner.

"I wish everyone could have what Katniss and I have with each other. There's nothing like it. Nothing and no one else even comes close." Peeta says in such a romantic tone I have to bite my lip as I stare back at him to keep myself from slapping his shoulder at his dramatics. But one glance at the the circle of harpies tells me their eating this up with a damn spoon. They're about two seconds away from ruining their expensive make up and hairdos as they blink their eyes against tears and pull anxiously at their hair.

After that most of the tension drained out of the conversation and topics turned to our highly anticipated wedding. While the women babbled in about colors and flower choices I remained tight lipped and took to simply studying them.These Capitolites were so strange and their fashions were simultaneously over the top and overly sexual. It made my head spin. I could only imagine what kind of mischief Deen was getting up to right now. He wasn’t as strong willed or morally fortified as Peeta. Hopefully Effie was keeping him out of trouble. Which meant everyone would probably be too busy to check on Peeta and I if we sequestered ourselves in a coat closet for the rest of the night.

We could get away without mingling for maybe the whole night! The idea took shape in my head and I could tell Peeta knew I was thinking something. He arched an eyebrow at me, as he fielded questions about our upcoming wedding, while I had been tuning out of the conversation.

“Look Peeta! Isn’t that the President’s head baker? You said you wanted to ask him about our wedding cake! Excuse me ladies, but I need to borrow my finance.” I say in a loud enthusiastic rush and grasp Peeta’s arm tightly as I tug him away. He chuckles soft and low, as we zigzag through the crowd.

An attendant carrying an entire tray of the appetizers I adore steps in our way.

“Grab that!” I tell Peeta in a gleeful tone and he has a quick word with the attendant and the tray is handed over promptly. Sometimes I’m really grateful for his silver tongue. I snatch a bottle of champagne and two glasses to go along with our provisions and Peeta actually manages to grab two slices of chocolate cake. I give him my best grateful smile and he grins back at me, obviously in a good mood now that he escaped the clutches of those handsy women.

Read the rest on AO3.

#lemonluvwrites #fanfiction #everlark #canon divergent #everlark mentors #engaged everlark #long fics

17 notes · View notes

randomkposts · 1 year

Note

Can you do a hesdcanon on fem mello, matt, and Near? You can take your time!

K:- thank you for your patience. It can take a bit to find a good time to brainstorm between life and living in diffrent timezones.

E:- I kept thinking at some point in childhood Roger has to get Mello out of juvie.There are very specific rules they aren't allowed to do anymore and that mostly on Mello and Matt....and Near.

K:- Eclipse, that's not a surprise. The real question is what did he get caught doing.

E:-Its easier to cross off what have they not

K:-No, I think Mello got away doing a lot of things she shouldn't have. Because to report it, the reporter would have to admit it was a kid and successfully persuade them. Until Mello was caught in the act, and built a rep.

E:-An adults bruised ego tends to help so much getting out of trouble. I also feel like even if they are geniuses they'll occasionally do dumb kid things.

K:-And Mello is testing how much he can get away with by explaining it as L training.

E:-Someone stuck that fork in that plug in K, and I bet it's Matt

K:-No bet...Hmm, I do think Mello would do it deliberately for Fire.

E:-"Mello how are you even committing tax fraud you're barely 12"

Mello is an arsonist canon!

Lol. Blame everything on L training and L would probably approve!

K:-Wheres the counter evidence.

E:-L: Well it is handy

Roger: Please stop encouraging them

L: .....tax fraud is literal childs play, Roger-

K:- Roger demands a pay raise and a vacation. He's unsure about the vacation. Should he let L have unsupervised access to children? Watari is an enabler. So hes no help.

E:-Roger:"....Watari can control L......I hope"

Roger isn't even out of the driveway , K. Its sad he's the boss ahahah. Wait do they have nannies?

K:-I have no clue

E:-Who's taking care of the literal kids? Who are even their teachers? God to get hired there must be good fucking pay.

K:-I know something about Japanese orphanages, nothing recent about English ones, and 0 about Orphanages dedicated to raising Batman.

E:-Dealing with actual smart asses who can make anything out of literal glue and glitter.

Accurate

I barely know about the American system but more about Japanese ruling of custody affairs than orphanage.

K:-Presumably there are teachers to counter the usual unfortunate reality of orphans being behind in their schooling for a variety of reasons.

E:- I hope so. Looks like we gotta make OCs for death note at some point.

K:-And presumably there are people in other parts of the system to flag kids who would have potential there. I would expect that given its training batmans, there are a lot of teachers and Tutors, and probably caretakers.

E:-This is starting to sound like human 🚥

K:-Like Watari and Rodger deal with L-I will eat every dessert I come across- and probably shared a look, and hired someones to teach the next generation proper nutrition.

E:-Mini batmans to unleash on the whole world

K:-Mello is not following it as he broke away to join the mafia, and so might as well eat chocolate.

E:-After all from what anime and comics show us nothing more terrifying than an avenging motivated orphan. I feel like Mello and L give their dentists nightmares.

K:-I presume Mello and Matt know how to fight, as Mello is running the Mafia. Near specialized in de-escalation I guess? Or maybe like Mello, Near also uses a gun if needed?

So like, even though the whammy orphans are smart most of them didn't seem to be on the L career track.

E:-True. Since Whammy's is originally for gifted orphans from various groups of artists and athletics and intelligence he would have some teachers for training in defense and offense.

Seriously Whammy is just making batman. Near: While Mello was learning how to castrate a man, I learned how to kill them with words....literally.

K:-Which takes it up to 11 when Near uses the death note to kill Mikami.

But that probably means theres like, a scientist or something out there, who has a coworker murdered, and the police just receive a detailed report from said astronomer detailing how the murder happened and motives, and then the person just goes back to sciencing and leaves everyone stunned.

E:-Omg the scientists was a Whammy kid!

Lmao well gotta use that detective skill set they learned at some point.

K:-So like, they probably took at least one art class. Who do you think took what?

E:-They have to take art as its mandatory lol.

Hmmm I can see Mello with paints depending which ones but I am biased to say watercolor maybe Mello would have patience for it.Buuuuut acrylics or gouache.

K:-Or encaustic

E:-Mello works with their hands a lot so maybe with clay too. That too!

K:-Wait no, that would get banned fast… at least heat based. Cold encaustic maybe would stay.

E:-Matt is in graphic designs and photoshop...she does it for the memes

Near has face masks of L and himself he made those.

K:-So Near and Mello got into different kinds of sculpting.I assume they know how to play an instrument, but which one?

E:-Mello got the electric triangle. Just to piss off Roger!

Matt going: I know guitar

Roger from the office: Videos games don't count!

Matt: I know some strings!

Near: the flute dunno why but I can see it.

K:-Lol, but like in seriousness I do imagine them knowing classical instruments. Matt is Piano. And Mello is maybe cello? Or Viola for the stereotype.

E:-Lmaoo! Mello cello it rhymes!

K:- I didn't even consider that angle

E:-What!! Lol! Crack gotta do it!

K:-point. I'm sure normal subjects like math and writing, and reading comprehension were taught. World history would be big, as well as science. Phycology, poker, and Criminology! All taught at the worlds most intense orphan cram school for future detectives

E:-I wonder if Roger had to deal with other people trying to enroll their kids at his orphanage. Kinda like the X Men.There is one non mutant kid who goes there and because its the school with the best teachers.

K:-Hmm…Its probably kind of exclusive but on the other hand

Funding!

E:-Who would be funding this? Roger has money right? As does Watari.

K:- They do. And I think L is not the first L.

E:-Maybe patents they're using or military sponsoring?

K:-But like, if regular people go to intense detective cram school, its probably at an intense tuition. Which pays for orphan care. Whammy's is just more then an exclusive name with a reputation, though it is also that.

E:-Yes that could be it! …I think we veered off a bit lol

K:-Matt is best karaoke singer of the three!

E:- agreed. Sings all her favorite game op. Near has a cute voice. Not the best but can hold a note.

K:-Mello goes loud and chaotic but can sing.

Or maybe the opposite? Surprisingly soft voice?

E:-Oooh I love both Ideas! Soft but goes for loud chaotic songs! She's gonna go raspy by doing that.

#always a diffrent gender #female near #female matt #female mello #random k #a conversation with my friend #death note mello #death note near #matt death note #female l #death note #plot bunnies #answers #headcanons #l death note

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dispatches-from-the-lorecord · 1 year

Text

How old are these S9 kids anyway?

[January 31 - February 1, 2023]

{Haji:}

@Krizste psst since Stars has kind of become your boy, how old would say he is / was during the run? :RaccAttack:

{Krizste:}

he was always my boy, who do you think gave him that goofy hair? :Kappa:

{Haji:}

I currently have him at 17 just guessing his "real" counterpart to be at the older end of the host spectrum but Host Stars is usually so cute and nervous, I wondered if he's actually younger

{krizste:}

i have no

fucking

idea

:Keepo:

i guess around 14-15?

{Haji:}

Alrighty, that works too

{Krizste:}

hacker is def older in existence, but his appearance is a dice roll, lol

{Newbie:}

after having written for Hacker Stars a bit, i wanna place him as appearing in his early twenties at the oldest and being Frozen In Time thanks to hacker magic or whatever :Kappa:

{Haji:}

That's kind of what I'm thinking too.

But I wasn't sure about the host version

{Krizste:}

he sure acts like a jaded old man :Kappa:

{Newbie:}

he's Seen Some Shit :Kappa:

{Krizste:}

i love stars :Kappa: its a combo deal of trauma and depression and its lovely

{Haji:}

Okay, now for Quotes and Yuu

{Krizste:}

age? yus gotta be 17+

{Haji:}

Yeah ages

I'm so close like down to the last 6 :BegWan:

{Newbie:}

I think Yuu is about 17. That's Wes's canonical age according to Word of God

{Krizste:}

pjixdhfc i was judt giving him joker p5 age

{Haji:}

I mean, not wrong

{Newbie:}

Quotes has a flashback with her and Alex celebrating her 15th birthday in the past so she is at least 15 during RTHE

I personally place her at 16-17

{Haji:}

Good to know :SeemsGood:

{Newbie:}

She and Alex are implied to be around the same age and by the run's end he was talking about college

I put RTHE like a year before GrandCol so that would make her either the same age as or a year older than Yuu in my timeline :RaccAttack:

{Haji:}

Alrighty

Thanks :tppAYAYA:

{Krizste:}

haji making host dex?

{Haji:}

Just using the tentative timeline to plot out ages for my current "arc"

There's smaller arcs within it, but damn I realized everything being interconnected means it's from Ultra Sun on down

{Newbie:}

If you need ages for the other season9 hosts, I can't sleep rn :Kappa:

So I'm like... open to distraction

{Krizste:}

alright, the charitydual two, go

:Kappa:

my brain is saying ness age

whatever ness age is

{Brespawn:}

{Newbie:}

Ehhhh I'm breaking from the mold and making them like... 18? They're med students that got roped into the charity fundraiser as part of their program

Maybe 16 at the youngest if we go child geniuses :Kappa:

That's me anyway

{Krizste:}

maybe they do assistant nursing / apprenticeing

{Newbie:}

Could be, yeah

{Krizste:}

not a med genious job

{Newbie:}

Then again this is pokemon world where 10-year-olds venture out into the world without adult supervision so like

{Haji:}

I was about to say. Since when does Kanto seem to care about child labor? 😂

{Newbie:}

Idk

14 at the youngest, 18 at the oldest

Is my gut instinct

I feel like Barbie is older

{Krizste:}

speaking of that, i place forrest/hugh vw2r combo as some years older than 10 (dunno how many), as forrest specifically gets fucked over on the day of what was meant to be his pokemon journey starting

and spends an undefined ammount of time being hunted/etc in kanto, then moving, and then spening more time just being in school, then starting his poke journey

hugh would also be in the bucket of 'start poke journey late' due to fun family deaths and stolen pokemon! no wonder he was happy when startying with forrest

{Newbie:}

I think Forrest appears like 14 in human years. Glitch time? Heh. Glitches aren't bound by arbitrary laws of physics, much less temporality

I still go with the "he became a human" interpretation so age is uh. how does one track that exactly

When you are a pile of broken reality

{Krizste:}

ah cool cool

idk what im doin for forrest, he’s half half. his human side is whatever, 14? but glitch side is whatever. so- ohh ohh ohh.....

{Haji:}

Oh really? TPP doesn't matter but I thought he'd be closer to 15/16 like they are in game

{Newbie:}

I don't think there's an official age for Rosa or Nate in-game. Hilda/Hilbert are implied to be 14 in BW1 according to Word of God but that's it

{Krizste:}

tempraraly, forrest is both, yet neither 'glitch become human' / 'human become glitch'. human forrest lived human like life, basic temperarily forward and aging, at pokemon journey age, he got capowed top half glitch. but glitch forrest always existed , bc as u did say glitches do b outside the scope of temporality. glitch mode forrest is both very very young in human forward years if we count from the capow event, from that event, but is also incredibly ancient, as the worlds code itself

so its like lil

human>>> ya boi <<<glitch

not

glitch>> half glitch

human>> half human, etc

{Newbie:}

So... fusion dance

{Krizste:}

yeah

a getting smooshed in a collapsement of plasmic spacetime

{Newbie:}

Steven Universe, glitch style

Two beings coalesce into one

reverse Stars, if you will

Interesting

{Krizste:}

that actully feels like the most glitch thing to be

bc glitches need Stuff and Thinggs to make them be

they need Events, they need Items, they need Environment,

{Newbie:}

I still maintain Jirachi's involvement in Forrest's predicament... but you've given me a brain worm about Xavier now...

{Krizste:}

fuck! my xavier comic

{Newbie:}

Dammit I'm about to head back into XG Remix brainrot

Lmao

As for the others... I peg Xavier at 13, Tulio at like 11, and Terra roughly at 15(?) maybe :RaccAttack:

I'm still undecided about Terra

Run was too recent

Timeline still settling

Haji you now have ages for the season9 kids

Oh shit I forgot gigi

Uhhh

...I wanna say like 12? 13?

She and Lillie are the same age and Star is one year after SM, during which Lillie is 11, so like

12-13 seems safe

{Krizste:}

tulio so tiny

wait

what if this is homestuck scratch

scarlet tulio is 15

scratch happens

vio+ tulio is 10 and terra is 15

{Newbie:}

I personally subscribe to the idea that Tulio has graduated by now and is in another region. Maybe looking into how to help stop whatever the fuck is going wrong in Paldea

Or blissfully ignorant

Either works

{Haji:}

All I'll say at the moment is some of these ages are going to be ~approximate~ because I rounded everything to years and half years and the 6 months may have thrown me off. Also some are just going to look weird because of character circumstances 🤣

So like Xavier being a machine doesn't really age??? So I laugh at the idea of just 13s across the board

{Newbie:}

Aaaaaaanyway. The X-Factor, the creation of the artificial Subject XG000... I have Thoughts™️ and I still need to go to bed

I view him less as a machine and more an artificially-created human

Technically organic in genetic makeup... origins, not so much

...and now I'm thinking along the lines of glitch-fusion enhancement

{Haji:}

Gotta make this hard for me, huh? :Kappa:

{Newbie:}

Hey, my interpretation doesn't have to dictate your thingy

Whatever the word is

Compendium?

That's a word right

{Tranzi:}

forrest is just a teen

his age is teen (not 10) :Kappa:

{Haji:}

I guess with ScVi still fresh in my mind, I kind of thought he'd be more like the professor AI. A sort of animatronic made to fight but gained a level of sentience enough to say he doesn't want to do that. Really kind of funny because that's what I imagined in the first place, just now we might have some weird explanation to how such a machine could be made. He's much more primitive than the ScVi AI though, since they're made from technology not possible yet, but Cipher has always been super dubious in the TPP lore for pushing what's possible :HYPERRACC:

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