y'all I am working on A Stain that Won't Dissolve chapter 17 and we have ascended to 'literal sickfic' where one character is kind of taking care of another and we have made it folks, we have made it to one of the hurt/comfort peaks. *cries happily*
of course it's still Alex and Sebastian so they're still like... dopes.
does anyone want an excerpt from this ridiculousness, lemme know and i'll post one
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i would love to read all your lacktwo thoughts :)
anon you have no idea what kind of pandoras box youre opening when you say ALL of them. … but since you ASKED,
lacktwo is such. an interesting character to me. not because he’s particularly well written (infact I believe the opposite) (COUGH who said that) but because he’s surrounded by so many Implications that bw2… does not get into. at all. like all of the reveals and info drops about lacktwo feel like they were only put there in order to get a shocked reaction from the reader and then they like.. expect us to just Move On from that bombshell. I guess.
like its crazy how lacktwos backstory is shown to us by like. lacktwo traumadumping it onto whitwo. and I wouldnt Mind backstories being shown this way IF LACKTWOS BACKSTORY WASNT FUCKING BATSHIT INSANE? like in his retelling lacktwo says that 1. he was orphaned as an infant (implying his parents died) 2. he was protected by interpol In A Crime Scene (which. was probably the one his parents died in why would he be there otherwise) 3. he was taken in by interpol (as an infant) and trained under them (AS AN INFANT?) and continues to work for them to this day 4. interpol’s main method of teaching him how emotions work was a manual. on emotions? A MANUAL? and 5. his entire moral code was molded by someone in interpol. that moral code happening to exactly align with interpol’s mission. peculiar..
and then after he drops 5 consecutive bombs it is Never. brought up again. Not once! WHAT? WHY? you cant just SAY this guy is BASICALLY a child soldier who interpol has honed into a perfect asset for their own purposes and NOT FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT???
oh and dont get me Started on the implications of magician’s direct involvement with interpol. during the beginning of the arc magician is established as a contact that lacktwo has outside of interpol, who works with him in exchange for lacktwo giving him a backdoor into interpols database or whatever. sure! that seems reasonable enough… but then at the very end of the arc. magician is revealed not only to be directly working with interpol but IS A MEMBER OF INTERPOL? atleast thats what the codename heavily implies! now. why does magician need a backdoor from lacktwo IF HE WOULD ALREADY HAVE ACCESS TO IT and WHY IS HE LYING TO LACKTWO (and looker) ABOUT NOT BEING AFFILIATED WITH INTERPOL. FOR WHAT REASON? even the ONE contact lacktwo seems to have that isnt under interpol IS ACTUALLY UNDER INTERPOL. WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? WH
and magicians meeting with the head of interpol does not make them look ANY less suspicious. why would Any morally upstanding organization feel the need to experiment (and they say EXPERIMENT) on one of their assets by Fake Firing them to see if they would continue on with their assigned mission despite no longer being affiliated anymore. For What Reason.
and then guess what! since that revealed at the end of the arc WE DONT GET INTO THAT. and guess what!!! WE HAVE NEVER SEEN THEM AGAIN. well we see lacktwo (as colress) very very briefly in alola but we are just left Completely hanging on that plot thread . what are they planning with him?? GET HIM OUT OF THERE
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alr bet!!!
eight was making their way through the metro and somehow got shrunk before they got to the elevator. themself, pearl, and marina shrugged it off for the time being, but when the elevator stopped, things went downhill. cue sani!3 attacking eight and ending up eating them, but eight manages to fight their way out after a while >:))) -pastel anon
Jack wasn’t sure how he got into his mess, and he definitely wasn’t sure how he’d get out.
Everything up to this had been poor circumstance for the runaway octoling- encountering an agent while fleeing from his old life, falling down into the metro, losing some of his memories, being forced to fight...he hated it. All Jack wanted to do was have a better life, he knew he wasn’t cut out for the army or fighting people...this wasn’t what he wanted for himself at all. But if he wanted to leave, he had to fight his way out.
Unfortunately for him, that was a hard thing to do when you were incredibly small.
The technology here was unlike anything he had dealt with at home, and a wrong move around a trap resulted in...being shrunken. It was harmless sure, but there was no way the octoling could fight his way to the surface in this condition. Unless the mindless sanitized octarians suddenly found doll-sized cephalopods endearing, Jack would have to stealth his way out of it. The idols that were helping him deduced that this would wear off in time, so maybe by the time he was out he'd be back to his original size....
Being this small made it easier to sneak around, at least. His escape thus far went off without a hitch, and thankfully the elevator up still worked despite his relatively tiny size. Just this last stretch and he'll be on the surface and free-
With a shake that nearly knocked Jack off his feet, the elevator came to a stop. That couldn't be good. Despite hating every second of it, instincts drilled into him by the military told him that danger was imminent, and he scurried his way to a spot to hide behind. Just in the nick of time too, because a familiar face made its appearance not a moment after. This was the agent he fought before, the old guy he was traveling alongside called him...Scratch? He sure seemed strong and reliable, more than he could ever be, but...
Something was wrong.
He had a large glob of that sickly glowing ink on his face, if Jack could even call it ink. Leaving him with that phone was a bad idea...Scratch had a wild look in his eyes, and was now scanning around as his target seemed to have vanished. Was he...looking for him? Jack shuddered; it wasn't like fighting him went well before, and being as small as he is would spell disaster. If he could just get this lift working again, maybe the others could help him when they reached the surface...
With this goal in mind Jack began to carefully move, keeping his eyes on Scratch's turned back as he moved. Maybe he'd be too hard to notice! Everything will be just fine-
"Target spotted."
All of a sudden, a hand came and quickly snatched up the smaller octoling, eliciting a startled cry from him. Having been so wrapped up in his thoughts he hadn't noticed that Scratch left his view, having spotted him a while ago. Attempting to wriggle free of his grip was only met with a tight squeeze as Scratch brought him up to his face and glared at him. Was this it for him? The sound of his whimpering was cut short by a different sound, barely audible to his captor but plenty audible to the little octoling.
A low, rumbling growl that came from somewhere near Scratch's middle.
Scratch narrowed his eyes, keeping his grip firm. Maybe it was something about the ink that drew this out of him, or maybe it was a hidden habit he had all along- Jack had no time to react as he was suddenly shoved forward into a dark, hot space, with something clicking behind him. It was hot and slick, and by the time he processed what had just happened, his surroundings shifted and tilted backwards. He was eating him! A few quick gulps pulled him down the inkling's throat, constricted on all sides and unable to so much as wriggle.
His destination wasn't any better. Spilling out into a slightly more open chamber Jack found himself in the agent's stomach, sitting in a small pool of tealish liquid. It was humid and cramped even at his size, and it grumbled loudly to announce the arrival of its new guest.
"Target secured."
Scratch's flat voice came from above, which lessened the growing panic in Jack's chest. Secured...so he was just being captured? Regardless of the truth in that he HAD to get out of here somehow, and he had no intention of sticking around to see a stomach in action. He began to kick and push around, but that only made the walls close in tighter around him, gently kneading at his form and coating him in even more slime.
How was he supposed to make it to the surface now?
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