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#idk if its gone completely (doubt) but its actually managable for once
neosimi · 5 months
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i am happy to report that (for now) my game seems to be on good terms with me. :] this informative post was able to clear up my issue. i've recently begun playing silent peaks, and i'm so immersed in the story already. <3
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searidings · 3 years
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....🥺 can you please tell us more about that season 5 alternate ending where andrea ends up using the dagger pretty please, just like who does she end up hurting and the others reaction? if only you want to of course !
hooookay this ask got me to open that wip for the first time in a year and actually it's not that far from being complete! but idk how to finish it and i feel like i've done the s5 conflict resolution thing in multiple fics now like how many is too many? i fear i may have hit that limit. BUT since you asked, here is the beginning of it. please note:
1) this thing is angsty and also it's unfinished, so read at your own peril
2) because i wasn't ever expecting to finish/publish it, i've recycled bits of description from it into other fics. so if you see stuff i've repeated elsewhere no you don't <3
-
The last thing Lena sees is a flash like dark shadow pass over Andrea’s eyes, before a kryptonite dagger slides between her ribs.
The sound she emits is less of a scream and more of a surprised squeak as she sinks to the ground.
If you want to get to Supergirl, you’re gonna have to go through me.
It’s not that she hadn’t believed Andrea would do it. Lena was under no illusion of safety when she placed herself between Supergirl and the glowing green rock in Andrea’s hand. She’d come to terms with the possibility of dying for Kara long ago.
What she hadn’t been able to prepare for was the pain. The abstract of sacrifice was all well and good, but. Reality, this searing epicentre, a point of white hot agony turned molten, seeping through her body. No amount of her mother’s decorum training had prepared her for this.
Something is filling her mouth, thick and dark and oozing. She can’t scream. Kara sits, eyes silver, a world away. Kara. Lena has to move. She can’t. Andrea steps over her, and is that the pounding of receding footsteps or the dogged beat of Lena’s heart? Either way, it’s slowing. Every inhale cracks her body down the centre, each exhale buries shards of glass inside the gaping wound.
Her eyes are beginning to mist at the edges but she strains, listens. The sound that cuts through the haze is not the scream she dreads, Kara’s agony as her veins sear emerald. It’s not a scream, but a shout, and then a blur passes over her like light and shadow.
Concrete cracks, or perhaps it’s Lena’s ribs. Sounds are muffled now, the world dulled down like the inside of a snow globe. Underwater, time passes sluggishly to where she lies, drifting, encased in glass. But someone is fighting the current, resisting the pull. Hands grasp her shoulders, burning where they touch. Through the rolling fog comes Kara’s face, blurring out in red and blue and gold and sickly green. Lena wants to push her away, keep her separate from the venomous substance protruding from her chest, keep her untainted. But Kara’s hands are dancing there-away along her cheeks, her jaw, Lena’s own name sounding from her lips over and over, a siren song, calling her home. It’s raining now, wet spots peppering her brow, or maybe the sun is crying.
“Lena, Lena,” Kara is saying. It sounds like her heartbeat and she cannot bear for it to stop.
“Kara,” she manages, a whisper, a prayer.
Her face flashes within Lena’s line of sight for one perfect moment, and is she green-tinged or is it Lena’s failing vision? A shiver passes through the air between them, I’m sorry fluttering like a bloodstained white flag but whether it falls from her own lips or another’s, Lena cannot say. Then a sudden pressure at her ribs, a heavy push and release that feels like salvation and damnation all at once.
Lena hears a scream, two screams, billions. She is left gaping, open and exposed. Invaded by the air and exalted by the sticky-sweet blush of her own blood, her body purging itself. Through the slick of gathering crimson her head rolls to the side, darkness pressing in around her, eyes blazing with the final image of a limp hand on the ground beside her, veins shot through with glowing green.
-
For a long time, there is only darkness. The deepest blackness she has ever known, all-encompassing. Devouring light, thought, feeling. Lena floats, tethered to her own existence only by the pressing weight of the dark, closing in until the end of the world.
Slowly, sensations begin to blur in and out. Cold, a deadening flow, hooking into her very marrow and stripping her from the inside out. She drifts, and then there’s heat, scorching, radiating out from her ribs in scalding waves, and she wishes for numbness.
For a moment, Lena thinks she sees the star-burst of veins behind her eyelids, but then they are gone and all is black again. Sound fragments filter through her peripheral awareness. A great noise, banging and shouting and exploding. She slips back under.
Vibrations reach her, but they must be sounds because Lena no longer has a body with which to feel them. She floats, untethered, sinking beneath the surface of a dark ocean so vast it surely cannot know she’s there. In the deep, voices flicker.
“Haven’t you heard that you’re supposed to leave the knife in? She’s minutes from bleeding out.”
The blackness turns to blood around her, not vibrant red but sticky dark, the kind so loaded with the very force of someone’s life that it moves slowly, crawls under the weight of it, sucking light from all it touches.
“Her veins were green, Alex.”
An eternity passes.
She dreams of her mother, dark hair fanning behind her as she cuts through the still waters of the lake. The scene is calm, but the growing dread means Lena knows what’s coming and suddenly it’s not her mother but Kara before her, and the lake isn’t clear but radioactive, glowing green, and still Lena stands at the shore and watches her slip away, helpless.
Words float through the haze and Lena wishes she could reach out, grasp them, weigh them in her hands to know the truth behind them. Radiation and poisoned and flared and gone, the sounds making physical shapes in the darkness. She thinks of a child, two dark-haired children, of hours spent pouring over a dictionary. A cruel laugh when she got a definition wrong, grudging silence when she got it right. How she wishes now to be wrong, to mishear, a stay of judgment on the world these words conjure into being. But the focus is gone, and she slips away again.
“—whatever you have to do! Or so help me, I’ll—”
Though Lena is nothing now, just an exhale in the wind, she smiles. Warmth blooms, the blackness not crushing but caressing for a moment, and she drifts into memories of happier times.
A million years pass, a billion. Lena is upside down, and right way up, and no way up at all. If she still had a face, she might feel the pressure of a warm forehead against her own. If she still had hair, the imprint of lips pressed gently against it might still ache. If she hadn’t burned every meaningful bridge in her life in the year before her death, she might believe the trick of a whisper wrapping on the breeze, words of comfort, of promise.
But she had, so she doesn’t, and time collapses in on itself as Lena watches, motionless and alone.
-
Though she has always been nowhere, she can feel herself drifting further and further from the last thing that might just resemble a somewhere. The eons slow. If she were a doctor, Lena thinks, then this would be the time to make herself comfortable. To say her goodbyes.
She cannot look at blackness any longer, cannot bear the glowing green after-image that seems to stick to every corner and edge. She thinks of blue, of rain-washed skies and Kara’s eyes, conjures it into being with every fibre she has left. Wraps herself up in it, plunges headfirst, drowns.
“Like it matters!” Kara says, no, shouts, from somewhere far above and below her. Lena would flinch, if only she still had a body. The voice rings out through the void. “Like any of it matters now.”
Lena is privately inclined to agree. She tries to breathe, but the full weight of the universe, of every universe, presses in. As everything, even the blackness, dulls, there emerges a crushing, cracking suffocation, and Lena wonders why she can’t even die in peace. A high-pitched scream, maybe hers, maybe Kara’s, maybe her mother’s, maybe the world’s, stretching out before her like a pathway. Though there’s no doubt where it ends, Lena almost wants to follow it, if only to escape this sensation of being crumbled, submerged, denied life as its very essence is wrung from her being.
And then a hundred trillion bolts of lightning shoot through her at once, and Lena is gone.
-
When she wakes, she wakes secure in the knowledge that she must be alive. Sure that the pain that had burst through her, blighted every nerve with an agony so intense she feels its phantom grip even now, could only lead back to life. Sure that no departure could hurt that much.
When she wakes, it is through cracked, dry eyes to the sight of pipes and ceiling vents, the bland, industrial grey that can only denote underfunded government property.
When she wakes, Kara is standing at the foot of her bed, hands behind her back and looking every inch the righteous hero, and Lena’s unsteady heart sinks. She’s been on the receiving end of this authoritative pose more than enough for one lifetime. At least her hands aren’t on her hips.
But Kara’s eyes brighten as they meet Lena’s fluttering gaze. “Lena.” Quiet, reverential. “How are you feeling?”
Lena takes stock. Alive, to begin with. Every limb still intact. Aside from an unnerving constriction in her chest and the fact that her blood feels a little like it’s burning her cells as it courses through her veins, it could certainly be worse.
When she speaks her voice is hoarse, cracking. “What happened?”
The same darkness creeps into the edges of her vision as she listens to Kara list the extent of the damage. She presses her lips together, willing away the blackness, registering only snippets.
Stab wound. Kryptonite poisoning. Collapsed lung. Cardiac arrest. Resuscitation.
Leviathan, gone. Andrea, captured. Lex, escaped.
The words wash over her like a freezing tide, and Lena wonders if maybe the darkness had been easier after all.
It takes far longer than it should for her to realise that the room has fallen silent. Kara is watching her, concern etched into her features like tears carving through stone.
Lena swallows as best she can. “And you?”
A corner of Kara’s mouth quirks up. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”
But she doesn’t look fine. She looks exhausted, her face drawn, blue eyes lacking their characteristic shine. Even her hero’s stance can’t mask the fatigue weighing heavy on her shoulders.
But Lena doesn’t have the strength to argue the point. She rolls her head to the side, joints popping and releasing, noticing for the first time the tangle of IV lines threading into her skin. She lifts her other hand to touch them, feels the warning tug of more needles even as Kara steps forward, arms raised as if to stop her.
Her hands reach toward Lena, or at least, the spaces where her hands should be. Huge white dressings swaddle Kara from the wrists down, so bulky they do not resemble hands at all. Lena’s breath catches in her lungs as she takes in the unwieldy bandages, third degree burns and possible nerve damage echoing through her mind and she understands now why Kara had hidden them behind her back.
The inhale she aims for seems to stick in her ribs and she can feel again the crushing, the cracking, the dizzying lack of oxygen as her head spins. Kara is by her side in an instant, radiating warmth and just breathe, Lena, it’s okay, a comforting weight settling against her hip. Lena thanks the thick blanket for blurring the press of rough bandages where there should be warm skin, softening it into something just nondescript enough to be calming.
When her pounding pulse has slowed, the heart monitor downgrading to a less frenetic beat, she sucks in a breath despite her lungs’ protestation, waits for her vision to clear. Kara is still there, and dread opens up in Lena’s chest.
“You— you touched it. The kryptonite. You pulled it out.”
Kara doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just nods, her gaze locked on Lena’s own. Lena lies catatonic, paralysed with the knowledge, unable to move even as Alex enters the room. Dimly aware of low words exchanged between the two sisters and then Alex at her bedside, gentler than Lena’s been worthy of seeing her in years. Just rest, Lena, the press of a button on the IV monitor, and she sinks back into oblivion.
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writing-in-april · 3 years
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Origins
Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader
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Summary: Reader feels homesick after a particularly gruesome case. Spencer can’t buy a plane ticket, but he can try to help recreate part of home with them.
A/N: hey heyyyy- this is my eighth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April- I’m very nervous for this one to be honest- idk if it’s going to be a lot of peoples cup of tea- this one had me researching a lot lol since I have no clue about boats at all lol- I hope I did the request at least a bit of justice (sorry in advance if I fuck up any terms or anything) but I think I did pretty well with my research (I think). I originally got the request from @imagining-in-the-margins when she handed it over to me also thanks for some help on the folklore parts too! Here it is-
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I always want to hear from you guys so feel free to drop me an ask here- and hopefully y’all enjoy!!
Warnings: ~disclaimer lol I know nothing about boating~ Anyway into the other warnings- Takes place directly after season 3 episode 8 (Lucky with Floyd Feylinn) Spencer gets really fucking sea sick- poor baby, Reader is from overseas (originally Cornwall in the request but I made it a bit more vague) and Reader’s father is a fisherman
Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.8k
The air that floated around whenever I was out on the water, salty sea water or fresh salt water always seemed to breath life back into my lungs. The river that we were boating on was quite salty near its widest point, tides brought the saltwater in to mix with the fresh making the water quite brackish.
I was lucky to still live somewhat near water after I had moved over to America. I hadn’t had the luxury of picking exactly where I was going to live and work when I transferred to the FBI, I just happened to draw all the right cards. With my schedule I didn’t go out on the water as much as I used to, definitely not as often as I had as a child. I yearned often to feel the specific type of air people only felt when on the water, especially when my job got particularly gruesome.
Gruesome was a way to define the last case my team and I had been brought in to investigate. My stomach churned at the thought of our last unsub, his name couldn’t leave my mind and the images of his heinous acts certainly didn’t leave either. Floyd Feylinn Ferell had been his name, though I wished I could forever scrub it from my memory. His crimes were too vile that everything seemed to trigger a memory, specifically of the frozen corpses.
The team had even noticed how affected I was by the case, often sending me worrying looks whenever it looked like blood drained from my face over sheer shock- just like the corpses. Cases had been gruesome before, sure, but there was something about this one made me feel frozen by fear.
I needed air, and not just any old air.
Homesickness was another factor that was making me feel so ill. I hadn’t been back to my home in so long, the only time I spoke with my father was over the phone, no video chats at all. He was just as technophobic as Spencer, maybe even more so to be honest. My father’s life as a fisherman hadn’t made him exceptionally tech savvy. He did know how to work a phone now thanks to you, which was another similarity to him and Spencer. I had helped Spencer learn how to work his new smartphone just last week.
Spencer, my lovely boyfriend of a few months, wanted to help quell my dark thoughts as best as he could with all of his knowledge. His first solution was to always revert to books, which I didn’t mind, it only made him more special to me. He tried to find books that would remind me of home- and get my mind off of gruesome cases that were closed and shut cases.
Hotch had then suggested the team take a day off, just one. After weeks of back to back cases with little to no reprieve we’d finally get some time alone, even if it was only for a day. All I needed was one day to get on the water and cleanse myself of the negative thoughts I had been feeling lately.
It was actually Spencer that had first suggested this excursion. He had come to one of our dates with his arms full of pamphlets all about renting a boat for the day. He also had definitely read up about boats, I’d expect nothing less of Spencer. I had learned it was his way of subtly showing affection, researching anything that I even was passively interested in.
Spencer packed even more than I did when we set off on the day long date, packing to the brim at least one too many bags- to be honest he packed two too many bags.
Once we had gotten the boat out into the water, the relief was almost instant. It was like my body knew I was home. I wasn’t actually at home of course, but it somehow knew I was near the water again. Honestly, Spencer hadn’t been far off when he called me a mermaid on one of our first dates, I had gone on a ramble about my love for it.
The water wasn’t nearly as clear as where I had grown up, much more dull in my opinion. But, the breeze that danced across my skin as well as the water made me feel more at home then I had been in a long time. After letting the mist spray onto my cheeks for a while I looked over to check on Spencer, who was not doing well by the looks of it.
Spencer’s face was twisted up in a grimace, not used to being in a boat. Until I had asked him a few weeks ago, to make sure it would be safe to go out on the water with him, I hadn’t even been sure he could swim. I also wasn’t that surprised that he had this reaction, it would have been less of a problem if it was a boat that I had picked out and bought. But, I’d take what I’d get if only to be by the water.
He pretended to hide his urge to dry heave over the side of the small boat that I had rented for the weekend. He looked almost green at this point, I knew he was only staying for my benefit at this point making me a tad bit sad. Water definitely seemed to have the opposite effect on Spencer compared to me, being on the water always felt like instant relaxation to me.
I still, however, didn’t want him to feel any major discomfort like he was obviously feeling so I decided to pipe up since he wouldn’t tell me himself, “Are you sure you’re ok enough to stay, Spencer?”
He pulled his life vest around himself as tight as he could while crossing his arms around his stomach. It took him a second to answer and in that time I almost started to turn the boat around back to the bay.
“I’m fine!” He squeaked out and I could see a shiver run through him. If I had offered to turn the boat around he’d most definitely have given me a glare, not wanting me to turn it around for his own sake. I squinted my eyes in suspicion, he was not completely fine obviously, but if he was insistent on staying maybe I could find something to distract him from it.
“Do you want to hear a sea shanty or do you want me to tell a regular story?” I asked out into the wind, thinking that might distract him from his nausea.
“A story, but you can’t call them regular stories.” He teased back as well as he could with the urge to dry heave, as if he didn’t know what I had meant. I scooted a little closer to him before I prepared myself to tell my story.
Selkies were always the ones I started out with whenever I told the stories I had grown up with. Despite its dark undertones I had latched onto the story as a child, finding it similar to the mainstream perception of what mermaids were. Though I’m reality seals that could transform into humans were a far cry from mainstream ideas of mermaids, a Merrow would have been a better comparison.
I always gave Spencer the origins of the story, he liked to know exactly where they had come from and how I had heard about the story in the first place, “As you know by now the folklore about Selkie’s originates from Scotland. Well- let me think about what I haven’t told you about Selkies before…” I pondered for a moment before remembering an aspect of the Selkies powers I hadn’t educated Spencer on yet. There was no doubt in my mind that he probably had all this information stored away in his brain somewhere, it was nice to know that someone genuinely cared about the stories I liked to tell. “Selkies are immortal, but they can be killed by other creatures. And I know I’ve told you that part, but I haven’t told you that they are generally killed by sharks when they are in seal form.”
I then went into the whole lore surrounding Selkie’s immortality. My hands were waving around animatedly as I talked, just like how the small waves were rocking our boat. They had definitely calmed down by now, hopefully Spencer would feel better soon.
Once I finished my tale I beamed over at him, my mood had brightened significantly over this trip, even though I could sense that Spencer’s had not. Though the story might have helped, he seemed a little less sickly now. He then managed to ask again without puking, “Could you tell another story? Maybe about the Kelpies? Or the Pixies of Cornwall? You can pick anything though really, I love listening to your stories.”
My heart swelled enough from his words that I thought it might burst. I wouldn’t have expected anything less of Spencer, he always hunted for more knowledge about things he was maybe more ignorant about compared to other topics.
I opted to then tell him about the Kelpies, who were also water dwelling creatures, before moving onto the pixies. He even seemed to be getting attached to the same stories that you favored as a child, and even as an adult.
I looked over at him as I finished my last little bit of information that I felt I could muster up today. A smile filled with fondness crept onto my face, his fluffy hair strewn about. It was cute despite his lingering sea sickness.
His face was remarkably less green now, my stories must have soothed him which made me feel heat run to my cheeks. Each time Spencer took interest in my origins I felt deeper feelings bubbling up, that were more than what we had expressed yet. Instead of voicing my full feelings just yet, I leaned forward to give him a chaste kiss on the forehead. He may have not looked green anymore, but I’d wait to give him a kiss on the lips until after we got back to shore, just in case something was to happen.
“Can you sing now?” I knew that he was not requesting me to sing any silly old song. He wanted me to sing the sea shantys that my father had taught me as a child. Not that I minded his request, I’d do anything to make him happier and I loved singing them anyway.
I smiled brightly as I guided the boat back to shore while I sang, already feeling lighter. It had not just been the water this time that made me feel better, it was also because of Spencer. He had taken so much care to help me feel more connected with home, loving to learn about your origins.
Ask Me Anything
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Tag lists (message me if you want to be added):
All works: @shotarosleftpinky @oreogutz @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg @takeyourleap-of-faith I’m sorry 😭
All MGG characters: @muffin-cup @willowrose99
Spencer Reid/CM: @calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes @onlyhereforthefanfics @jareauswifey
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mostlymobilegames · 3 years
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I will win.
warnings: younger!Fencio, mentions of pain?? I think that's about it
summary: Unclaimed!Rebecca being herself
author's note: i get nostalgic about Rebecca every time I enter the app, this is just some ??backstory?? idk, i just missed her and I forced myself to not let this idea marinate in my notes for 29 years
My legs burn as I land on the ground violently again. Dust and rocks fly in every direction as I try to calm down.
Everything hurts. My back aches while my wings feel too heavy for it, my eyes are watery, my throat is unbelievably dry, my legs feel like they won’t keep me up for much longer and if I wasn’t so tired I might be bothered by the sweat making my clothes stick to my body. Almost there.
As I prepare to take off once again, something moves in my line of sight, but the wall of dust makes it impossible to see. Not that I need to, I feel him before I even hear his footsteps approaching. I take off immediately, every part of my body hurting in protest, my wings flapping with powerful moves despite the pain as I soar up and for a second I almost enjoy the brief sense of peace. I plunge back to the ground at full speed, my legs nearly giving out as I land once again. Fencio moves his hand leisurely, a strand of long, white hair along with it on accident, and the dust in the air vanishes as I try to compose myself. So much pain.
“Rebecca” he says in greeting, his voice distant but not hostile or arrogant.
“Throne Fencio.”
My voice comes out sharply as I struggle to control my breathing. My legs feel wobbly and I know I look completely unpleasant. I worry about embarrassing myself but Fencio doesn’t seem even a little put off by my current demeanor, although that’s not surprising. After knowing him for a short time, I figured he is not easy to read at all, which I find annoying, given that he usually has such a good read on me. He is either a good actor or there’s nothing worth his reactions. Or maybe I’m not good enough at picking him apart.
“Tomorrow is an important day for you.”  So this is why he came.
After that… incident with my first assignment, Fencio kept true to his word. He followed my progress attentively, helped me with my studies and my training, teaching me how to manage without him or anyone and interfering only when necessary. His help never came with the condescension I often got from other immortals, even the low ranked ones, my fellow students, and I always felt the need to prove myself to him because of that. And then to prove myself to anyone who challenges me, but I am not there yet.
“I know.” I say confidently as I can feel my body healing itself slowly. It’s not much but I would be nothing without it, and I know that by tomorrow I’ll be fully recovered.
Fencio says nothing for a moment and I feel uneasy. Something sparkles in his eyes and his lips twitch, which is something he does rarely, but I always notice, and I never know what it means. It’s all gone in an instant and he’s back to his neutral expression, as usual.
“I have no doubt that you’ll kill the Serpent and that it will improve your reputation greatly” he pauses and I feel something inside me stir. Does he actually think I’ll fail and he’s just being nice?
The thought of Fencio seeing me as a disappointment makes me angry, but I know that can’t be true. He noticed my potential, my drive from the beginning and took me under his wing. I worked and I work hard for everything, but I know I would have never gotten this far, this quick without him. Some days I feel like he sees me like his part-time project, someone to mold into a better immortal because he decided it’s his responsibility. Other days I can consider him my confidant, since calling him a friend seems out of line, but Fencio has done nothing to betray my trust. Most days however, he is, without a doubt, my mentor, and now I feel ashamed for questioning his intentions, even if his attitude is making me wary.
“I won’t be able to attend the competition due to some personal matters, but I’ll seek you out afterwards as soon as I can.” he says and I feel immediate relief. I was worrying for nothing.
“Of course.” I respond and he shifts as if to signify he wants to leave.
“I’ll let you finish your workout. Don’t stay up too late. Rest well and… good luck.”
I nod and scoff internally, he says nothing more but makes no move to leave.
Suit yourself then. I turn around and walk a few steps away from him so I can properly spread my wings, and take off, glad that the pain still lingers but is much more bearable. I swear I can feel his eyes on me as I ascend, but when I turn around to drop down he isn't there, and I can’t contain my grin any longer.
Good luck? I don’t need luck.
I open the window wide as the cold breeze of the night sweeps into my room.
After I finished training and took a well-deserved shower, I went to bed. Even though I wanted to sleep until the morning, my body apparently had other plans and I woke up a few hours later, feeling refreshed and infinitely grateful for my immortal powers and my fast recovering body.
I realize immediately I’m alone in my dorm room. It’s pretty late and dark outside, which means my roommate is out doing something I’d rather not know about, since I doubt she’s training this late. She better not bring back any issues with her, I have enough on my plate.
I take a deep breath of fresh air and let it soothe my worries and clear my head. Everything is fine. Cliffs and bits of land levitate in the horizon, poorly illuminated by the moon and the glowing insects of different sizes hanging around them. A giggle is heard somewhere below me but it stops almost instantly, returning the night to its comforting silence. Something moves in the distance, seemingly coming up from behind a tree. I can’t make out who it is, but I am sure the figure is facing me and I recognize the blood red colored wings in a second. They flap lazily in that inviting gesture I’m way too familiar with. There are no demands made, no expectations or formalities to deal with, just the chance to spend some time with him, and I know I have no obligation to accept or respond.
Still, I wait, unmoving. It’s late and the chances of us getting caught together are small, there is no one out there. But what if someone follows me? There are too many immortals that don’t like me and it’s not exactly like I try to make friends. A part of me doesn’t think any of them would go to the extent of actively trying to ruin me, but it’s better to never underestimate the hatred one can build up for someone else. For someone better.
I don’t get to think more about it since he takes my lack of reaction as a refusal and flies back behind the same tree. I should take his leave as a blessing and go to bed, or do something else, but I don’t. I think about what would happen if I got caught, all of my efforts going to waste for the most stupid reason. I think about how everyone who ever doubted me would be right and I’d never get to prove them wrong, and how I could lose everything in the blink of an eye like back on Earth.
I climb the out the window with newfound strength, as I concentrate on my surroundings. There’s no one after me. I spread my wings and jump, hoping no one is staying by the window to witness an Unclaimed breaking curfew. Thankfully, I get there quickly and quietly, and I’m surprised to see Winchesto sitting down, his back against a thick tree trunk. I was sure he left and I would’ve had to find him.
He turns his head towards me and grins, his face full of happiness. Seeing him so glad to see me hurts.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” he says but there isn’t a hint of anything negative in his tone, as if he wouldn’t have blamed me for not following him. I know he wouldn’t have.
I say nothing as I slide down next to him, so close that our sides touch. The contact is small and delicate, barely there, but it feels like a battle is starting inside me. I turn to look at him as he does the same, our faces so close I can’t tell if my breathing is so loud or his. Winchesto’s eyes are gentle and there’s something so peaceful behind them, something that makes it so easy to relax. This could end us both. I tense up as my thoughts go in the wrong direction again. He notices and, as if reading my mind, he backs away a little and I feel awful, even though I know it’s for the best. For both of us.
“I’ll cheer for you tomorrow.” he breaks the silence, like I didn’t just reject him indirectly moments ago.
I laugh, but it sounds forced even to my own ears.
“That would raise some eyebrows.” I say half jokingly, half concerned and Winchesto shrugs, as if nothing could ever get him in trouble.
“Angels and demons get excited for this too, even if they don’t participate. If you think about it, they probably enjoy it more than their usual competitions, because they get the entertainment without the repercussions of losing. Many of them pick their favorites among the Unclaimed so they can place bets on them or just make a big deal out of whoever wins and gloat.”
“Did you bet on me?” I ask genuinely curious but Winchesto ignores my question.
“My point is: no one will care if I cheer for you, they’ll all be busy cheering too... or booing.”
I laugh honestly as he smiles sweetly, the tension from before long forgotten. We sit in silence after that, looking every now and then at each other, and neither of us seems to mind it. Neither of us feels like the silence is painful and that it needs to be disrupted and I realize, in that moment, that Winchesto is so dear to me, that I trust him so much, that I want to be around him and share everything with him, knowing he’d never use anything against me. I want to tell him about my worries, about my goals, about my pain and my life from before, about how I’ll achieve everything I’ve ever wanted and how I’ll be at the top. For a second, I even want to tell him about how I scouted the path to the Serpent and memorized every detail, or how I’ve hidden weapons along the way into the secluded spots I found in case I run out of energy.
But I don’t. I don’t tell him anything, and the part of me that’s been trying to keep me at bay, the part that I’ve cultivated so carefully knows I am doing what’s right. For both of us. It’s safe for Winchesto to not know what could hurt him, even if he’d like to know as much as I’d like to tell.
It’s late.
I stand up abruptly, dusting myself off while he continues to sit, looking at me calmly. I start walking away, knowing how it looks and hoping he doesn’t feel the hurt as much as me. I don’t want to leave like this, but I feel lost and I don’t know how to deal with it.
“Good night, Rebecca.” he whispers loud enough for me to hear it.
I let out a breath I haven’t realized I’ve been holding on and turn my head to look at him. He’s still sitting comfortably, looking unfazed and I’m glad. I’m glad it’s not that bad for him, or maybe he just takes it better than me.
“You should bet on me tomorrow. I will win.” is the only thing I say to him before taking off, leaving him there and not looking back.
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Humans are Space Orcs, “From Heaven or from Hell.”
Ok so I had a ton of trouble writing today for some reason. IDK why but here you go :) as expected. 
The Kree popped the last socket from the wall, pulling the device down for a closer examination. Admiral Vir stayed back in shock. He thought all of the kree were dead, but this one , it looked more than alive enough to him, though it did occur to him that this kree was neither voiced or voiceless. He had only ever seen something like it on a battlefield over two years ago, and they hadn’t gotten close enough to examine them in a medical capacity.
Was it possible that Dr. Krill and the others had been fooled.
If that was the case, these guys had done a phenomenal job at playing dead. Nothing was supposed to get past Dr. Krill, but he supposed there was a first for everything.
He knelt in the darkness wondering what he was going to do.
He could leap out and capture this creature, in one on one combat the Kree were no match for a human, the only reason they had been such a problem was because they were armed and could fly the last time he met with them.
But this one, it was just a skinny bird creature with twig legs, and no wings, but if he followed it, he might be able to find the others. 
He melted a little further back into the shadows, as much as he could with skin and hair that might as well have glowed in the ambient light. Too bad he had forgotten his ninja costume, that would have really helped right about now.
The kree turned and with a small chirp to itself, it began moving up the hallway.
He followed after at a distance feeling for once like the hunter instead of the hunted. 
He bared his teeth in half pleasure.
The feeling was sort of exhilarating.
He was the monster in the dark, the dangerous creature lurking in the shadows. He was the one stalking in the darkness just out of sight. Human’s hand had to hunt things in close proximity like this for thousands of years, and most creatures on their home planet were way to fast, strong, or agile for him to be able to do anything.
But in comparison to this Kree, he was a wolf, or a mountain lion. He would have radioed for assistance, but he was worried that his voice or the light from his implant would alert the creature, and he wouldn’t want that, so instead he kept very silent and well back as he followed the creature though the ship watching as it plucked equipment form the walls and stowed it in a bag. On one or two occasions, they came across one of the engineers working to fix the problem, but when that happened, they quickly slipped in another direction.
They were heading down, towards the docking bay forced to dodge more and more people as they moved, but they managed to make it.  And once they reached the docking bay, he was more than surprised to be led back behind the alien ship, to where someone had cut a near invisible vertical slit in the plastic which surrounded it.
The little creature slipped through and vanished inside the ship. 
He stayed outside, crouched low. This would probably be a good time let someone know where he was, but when he went to do so, he was surprised to find that bridge communications had been shut down.
The little bastards must have done something to it.
Oh well, than he was going to have to think up something else.
IT was best to know what he had to work with before actually making a move. So he inched forward quietly scooting through the plastic barrier and up towards the ship. He kept in a low crouch as he slipped up the open ramp and into the darkness. His infrared eye helped to pick up anything that might give him away as he moved through the darkness.
The ship was small, so it didn’t take him long to make it back to the bay where the bodies had been found, and when he did, he was both surprised, and not particularly surprised to see what he saw.
A gathering of Kree sat in a circle in the middle of the floor. Together they were comparing parts they had looted rom the ship, warbling i their strange kree language, and with laughter about what they had done.
Listening to them talk, he felt his lips pull tight in annoyance his hands balling into fists.
Pirates. 
They thought they had duped the humans,
Turned them into chumps as they robbed them blind right out from under their noses. 
It was a smart enough plan, but there was one thing that none of them had accounted for.
The fact that a human might be listening in.
Anger welled up inside his chest.
These creatures were trying to make him and his crew look like fools, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. He was going to stop this, but….. Before he did that, he was also going to give them a piece of their own medicine.
And with that thought, he slunk back into the darkness.
***
The Kree sat around in a circle laughing to themselves. The humans were so stupid.
Even their doctors hadn’t managed to catch the kree, with their ability to shut down their bodies into a mild state of coma, which approached death in appearance. In this state their internal organs barely functioned, and their cortical zones almost completely shut off.
It used to be something they could only do under certain circumstances, but after one of their scientists had done a little experimenting, he had discovered the place in the brain that was responsible for the shut off, and managed to implant manual switches for the ability.
Originally no one had thought that would be useful in any sort of way but they were quickly proven wrong, or at least the pirates had proven it wrong.
“This doesn't explain how we are going to get out of this place when we are finally done.”
Their leader scoffed, “We have full control of their ship, I am sure we can find a way to open the airlock.”
“And what if we are found out?”
“By who.” he retorted, “The have no reason to suspect us. It is more likely they will turn to one of their own crew members being a sabotage than suspecting us. I mean, what is the logical conclusion, that one of their  own is doing it or the creatures in the cold room have risen from the dead to steal their things.” He looked around at the others, “See, it makes sense doesn't it.”
They were just about to begin nodding their agreement to him, when a sound reaches them from down the dark hallway.
The sound of claws being pulled over metal.
They all grew very still staring at the entrance to the dark.
“What was that?” Someone whispered.
“I am sure it was nothing.”
There was silence for a few moments as they went back to their conversation.
They were cut off as a rattling noise broke out behind them in the darkness on the other side.
Together they turned in fear, eyes wide as they stared into the abyss.
The scraping sound continued almost melodic in nature.
Silence.
“Go check it out.” Their leader ordered pointing towards the most junior member of the party, They tried to argue but there was n ouse  in trying, and they were shoved into the darkness. Arms held protectively before it’s body knees weak, it ventured into the darkness and towards the scraping sound.
It was close, probably around the corner from it when the sound stopped very suddenly filling the little ship with an oppressive silence.
It turned its head this way and that unable to see in the near darkness.
It scrambled around in it’s toolkit trying to find the light.
Finally it found it, the cold metal reassuring against it’s hand as it flipped on the little beam of light.
Directly into a pair of milky eyes and glistening sharp teeth.
The others heard nothing.
“Find anything!” They called after it, but there was no answer 
“Not funny!”
Still no answer.
The scratching sound started up again on their other side.
THey turned in fear, huddling together in the middle of the room. W-what is that.
A sudden rush of movement to the darkness at their right. They spun, but it was already gone.
Staring into the darkness, it seemed as if something they couldn’t see was just right outside their vision
Someone flicked on a light into the darkness and caught the flash of two white orbs before the movement scuttled back into darkness.
“We have to get out.” Their leader ordered huddling them together and then backing away into the darkness of the opposite hall If the creature was over there, than they were going to be plenty safe here, together in a group with their flashlights turned on waving about in all directions.
One of their number began to scream, and they turned just in time to see the flailing counterpart pulled violently into the darkness, a pale white hand gripped about their leg.
They weren't trying to be quiet anymore, simply screaming as they fled, picked off one by one.
Their leader was the last left, nearly making it outside before his flashlight came upon a figure blocking him. In the eerie light of the darkness, its skin was washed out and pale, its clothing pale as well, when the flashlight beam moved up it passed over pale hair.
The face grinned as the flashlight passed over its eyes.
A flash of blue, and it was over.
***
The crew heard the screaming almost as soon as it had started, but it took them a few minutes to gather their gear before running in. By the time they made it everything had gone silent. A group of marines stepped through the plastic just in time to see admiral Vir walking down from the ramp dusting his hands off and looking quite pleased with himself.
“Sir…. what’s going on.”
“Oh just fixing a little problem, nothing to worry about.”
“And what was the problem.” 
The man grinned one of his green eyes flashing, “Pirates.”
When no one understood where he was going with this, the man simply grinned again, “Pirates. Turns out that the Kree were just playing dead to get aboard our ship and steal our shit.”
They stared at him incredulously, “What.”
“You heard me.”
They shook their head sin surprise, but followed him as he motioned them onward, “here, come take a look.”
Not that they doubted their Admiral, but they still found it shocking when they discovered the Kree hogtied and incapacitated around their own ship. The Admiral had a look of smug satisfaction on his face.
“That should be all of them-”
That is until they came upon another group of Kree 
He paused in his tracks staring down at the unconscious bodies, “What the-”
“Good work, Admiral.”
THe man scratched his head, “I…. I didn’t do this….”
“It was dark, you probably did and it just doesn't look familiar.”
He went very quiet for a moment before nodding his head. “I uh, sure I guess.”  
He handed off the stolen parts to he engineering crew uncharacteristically quiet
“Admiral, is your arm alright.”
“Yeay, yeah…. Just a…. misunderstanding .”
They looked after him in confusion as he walked away.
A misunderstanding.
***
Maverick was sitting in the half darkness of the ship chapel. A single light was on above the lectern, and she read by the dim lighting eyes scanning over passages of familiar words.
She wasn’t alone of course.
The Burg sat across the room, his wings folded easily behind his back as he perused through her collection of religious books. At first she thought that she wouldn’t like having a burg aboard, and had tried very hard not to show her unease around him, but he had proven himself to be affable, intelligent, kind, and very very helpful.
A lot of the crew didn’t understand that about him just yet, and so she had made it her mission to be his friend even if no one else would.
She hoped that he would appreciate the effort, and it seemed to be paying off.
It was just then that the door at the end of the room opened.
She lifted her head expecting one of the night shift crew to come in for a visit, but instead watched as Adam stepped inside and let the door hiss shut softly behind him. He had a thoughtful, and almost concerned look on his face as he approached, and she stood marking her page and setting her book aside as he walked up.
She was about to open her mouth to ask him if there was anything she could do, but he cut her off and spoke first.
Blurting out, “Do you believe in guardian angels.”
She paused in her tracks surprised at the question. Across the room, the burg lifted his head and also closed the book very slowly.
She was too stunned to speak for a moment as the burg scuttled over wings whispering lightly as they were tugged by air.
“Guardian angels.” She repeated, still not entirely sure what to make of it.
The Burg stopped beside them, “Guardian angel?” He wondered 
Maverick turned to look at him, “A divine being sent down from heaven in order to protect one of the living. Some say they are angels, others think they are dead family members, some have even gone as far as to assume dead pets, but generally an entity sent down from heaven to help someone whose work is not yet done.”
The man shuffled his feet, ‘And in that same vein, do you believe people can be…. haunted .”
That caught her off guard again as well.
The Burg looked at them for explanation, and the Admiral explained this time, “Like an angel accept an unholy being sent from hell maybe?”
She crossed her arms over her chest as he stood watching her, “Why the sudden interest.”
He looked at her and then sighed before sitting down, “If I tell you, promise you won’t call me crazy?”\
The expression on his face told her that he wasn’t joking, and she walked over to sit next to him, “Go on.”
“You remember the civilian transport.”
She shivered, “how could I forget. Never in my life have I entered a place that was corrupt and tainted in my life.” She shivered, ‘And I have been into some pretty dark places in my time.”
He nodded his head, “And you remember captain Everett?”
“The cannibal… the guy you had to kill? “
He nodded his head 
“Ok?”
“Well, ever since then, I have been…. Seeing him around. There have been times where he has been so real, it was like he could touch me. I would see him in mirrors and as a chill breeze….” He shivered again, “So I sort of assumed… based on the fact that I seem to have been followed from a tainted ship, that he manifests in the cold, and that I see him in mirrors that it was… well that it was a bad thing. At first I thought I was crazy, and then I thought it was a ghost.” 
“But-”She ventured 
“But then today I saw him again, and he seems to be helping me. Leading me in the right direction, assisting me, but in really really creepy ways.” He lifted his eyes, “What am I dealing with here? Am I crazy, is it a ghost, is it something more. I don’t know what to think.”
Maverick looked at him with a critical expression before slowly resting a hand on his shoulder, “Do you know why I joined the marines.”
He shook his head.
She sighed, “I don’t tell this to many people. I think Ramirez knows but other than that I don’t like to share, but on earth isn’t safe for me.”
He looked at her confused.
“I have had too many experiences with what you describe, and not all of them are good.” She looked around at the room, “I don’t claim to be an expert by all means, and I cannot be certain, but I think if it was bad you would know quite definitely…. Has it ever tried to harm you, to convince you to do things that you think are wrong?”
He paused and shook his head, “No… i, I guess not.”
“Than I don’t think you have to worry, but if you are still concerned, I would talk to Dr. Adric. Maybe he can help you.”
***
I don’t know what you are or what you want, but as long as you don’t hurt me, I won’t get rid of you. 
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helleborusangel where hath your ramblings gone. your ramblings my beloved. Sorry for the late chapter today, had a dip in motivation and then tech issues, but it’s longer than last one so hopefully that makes up for it. also pinging @petrichormeraki like always.
(also slightly warning, uh... how do i say this? it’s not explicit or really sexual so... horniness warning? idk. it’s near the end)
They had done their best to help Grum out, but when they turned him back on, he still was out of it. At the very least, Fundy had been glad to see that a face that matched Jrum’s, but blue, replaced the smiley face. Well, that wasn’t all true. Sometimes it flickered back, but that was better than staying looking like Dream’s mask.
Speaking of the admin, he had sent a message to Fundy, leaving the fox looking around, trying to learn where Dream had been hiding, because he obviously saw or heard what had been going on. Fundy reluctantly said goodbye to the bots, leaving them alone with each other.
Jrum was happy to hug onto his brother. “I’m glad you’re doing better!”
Grum nodded before looking at the top of Jrum’s head. “May I have your shears? I assume you still have them with you.”
“Yeah! Sure!” Jrum pulled his favorite shears out and handed them to his brother. His smile turned to confusion as he was pushed down slightly to make him crouch. He could hear the shears being used, and then a sudden sharp pain before it disappeared. “Ow! Be careful!”
“Did I manage to cut your antenna as well?”
“Yeah! It hurt!”
“I apologize, but something was tied around it.” Grum replied, letting Jrum stand up again before holding out a small red vine.
“Oh! One of those pretty plants! It must have gotten up there when I was exploring that cave.” Jrum took the vine and looked it over. “I think I can still pot it with the other sprouts I have.”
“You… have more?”
“Yep!” Jrum replied before going over to a furnace and throwing his clay in to cook. “It kinda looks like nether plants, but at the same time not? It’s slightly more redstony colored!”
“I suppose that is why you would be a fan of it.”
Jrum paused. What did Grum mean by that? It… It almost sounded like an insult. “What?”
“Redstone isn’t very useful.”
“Not that- What are you talking about?! We’re made of redstone and it’s Daddy’s job to work with it! It’s very useful!”
“”It takes too much time and it’s easy to break. Besides, what are you going to do? Make a secret door with it? People can still break through it.”
Jrum frowned. “Don’t say that!”
“It’s true, isn’t it?”
“No it’s not! Shut up! Or I could just make it so you can’t charge yourself!”
“Fine, live in an unfinished house by yourself. I’m sure you’ll be so safe with your diamonds. It’s not like anyone will want those for themselves.”
“I… They won’t be able to take them. I kept them when we respawned unlike most of my stuff. So even if they kill me, they can’t get them!”
“And so what? You’ll just keep them there? I thought you only had five slots in that chest of yours. What happens when you have something more important, or they’re out and you’re using them.” Grum asked, noticing how one of Jrum’s hands moved slightly. “Or are you fine losing that stupid toy of yours?”
“Don’t say that!” Jrum yelled and shoved his brother over. “It’s not stupid! Dad gave it to me and that makes it important!”
“If its connection to him is so important, he’s the one important. But let’s see, he’s not here. We’ve been here days and he hasn’t shown up. At this point, he probably won’t. And you know why?” Jrum refused to answer or guess, so Grum continued. “Because he doesn’t love us. He’s perfectly fine abandoning us. We’re not even the first one he’s done this too. He. Does. Not. Care.”
Jrum started tearing up before running off crying. Grum didn’t go after his brother and instead went back to work on the house, leaving Jrum on his own again. The younger robot was planning to go back to Puffy, but on the way there, he changed his mind. He changed his path and eventually ended up in the cave again. He nearly tripped over a large vine on the floor, but it was almost like it moved slightly so he didn’t. 
The robot went a bit deeper into the cave than he had when he first found it, following the vines on the ground until he reached the mass that the plants were coming from, the red, egg shaped plant towering over Jrum’s small size. It ever so slightly reminded Jrum of the heart of his daddy’s base. That thing was a sort of living machine as well, and he kept forgetting to feed it. He barely cared about it. And now that he and Grum were gone as far as their dads were concerned, it honestly made sense they wouldn’t come looking.
Jrum sat down next to the egg thing and curled up. He looked around and made sure no one was around before pulling out his special diamond block and hugging it. “I wanna go home…” and then he slowly went into sleep mode.
As Grum worked on building, he shut off a number of his functions, the most prominent one being his emotions. He had hurt his brother, but it was necessary. Something was wrong, and he didn’t know what. He didn’t want to hurt his brother, but he did so it couldn’t be worse. For all he knew, he could suddenly start attacking his brother. Even if this did lead to them on opposites sides of conflict, it would be for the better.
Grum paused in his building to check his battery. It was high, but not that close to full charge, which was odd. It currently felt like he was tired and needed to move to a reduced power mode, but also like he was fully charged and slightly buzzy with the energy.
Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: JoeHills. Assigned roles: Hermittown member, Acknowledged associate family, Operator, Higher Being of Unknown Origin. Banned roles: Hermittown member. Acknowledged associate family. Continue blacklist.
Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by 2%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 41.5% total.
Grum shook his head after realizing he was zoning out. Maybe he should go into sleep mode. The second floor was almost complete at this point. Once it was done, the place just needed to be decorated. The robot hopped down to the ground off the partially built roof, ignoring the damage he took, then went inside. He put the blocks away in a nearby chest, making sure it was organized and hopefully wouldn’t lead to a chest monster. Once everything was stored, Grum hopped onto his bed and started to shift to sleep mode.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been in sleep mode exactly, but Grum knew it wasn’t long when something woke him up. Specifically from someone coming inside the house. “What, back so soon? Let me guess, you’re low on charge again.”
“I don't really have that.” A voice that wasn’t Jrum’s spoke up and Grum sat up to see Dream.
“I apologize. My brother and I got into a fight.” The robot said, flopping back down
There was a short moment of silence and Grum could imagine the admin shrugging. “It’s fine. Not many people get along all the time here.” Part of Grum wanted to doubt this guy. There was always something off about him, but at the same time… “I see your place is almost done.”
“Yes it is.”
Grum could imagine a nod. “It’s impressive. You only started two days ago and it’s already almost done even at this size.”
Two days ago? That didn’t sound right. He had started… today? But then how had he…? : ) No, that’s right, two days ago. “Can I ask why you’re visiting?”
“Well, you and your brother showing up is pretty interesting. And even though we have people of all kinds here, no one’s a robot.”
“Well now my brother and I are here and we are.” Grum replied, finally sitting back up, knowing the conversation wasn’t ending anytime soon.
“Yeah. Makes me wonder how much we can figure out from you two. Like there’s one thing I figured out which is pretty interesting.”
“What’s that?”
“Hmm… you know I think it’s actually two.”
Grum rolled his eyes. “Yes, and those would be?”
“The first is you can’t remember the last few minutes before you crashed.” Dream said, leaning in the doorway as if what he said was something simple like ‘I saw a cloud’ or ‘it’s almost night time’. It stunned Grum and made him take a moment in processing it. He had trouble remembering before crashes? How did the admin know that? Had he seen it happen? I mean, he would have-
“The second is for some reason you tend to crash when that one person Fundy knows gets mentioned. I think his name is… Iskall?”
For a moment, Grum could almost hear the grin of the admin, before everything went magenta, then black.
He wasn’t sure how long he had been in sleep mode exactly, but Grum didn’t think it had been that long when something woke him back up. Specifically from someone coming inside the house. “What, back so soon? Let me guess, you’re low on charge again.”
“Uh, yeah he is.” An unfamiliar voice spoke.
Jrum was slightly jostled from sleep mode when something moved him. He wanted to get up and move to see what it was, but the 12% battery he had left didn’t really give him much cause to try. Instead he just shifted slightly to tell whatever was disturbing him that he had woken up.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not planning to hurt you.” A voice spoke, and they sounded really nice, so Jrum was pretty sure they were telling the truth. “You look a little tired. I don’t have a bed with me, but maybe some food will help?”
Jrum half comprehended the apple that was moved into his vision. He knew it was red and that it was supposed to feed him, so he weakly grabbed it and smacked it against his monitor screen. When he wasn’t able to eat it, Jrum whined, and a moment later the apple was taken back. “I guess no food then. Let’s find you a bed instead. My place is right nearby, so we can use that!”
“B-b-battery.” Jrum stuttered out, clinging to the fabric of whatever this person was wearing. His power conservation was making it hard to talk, but he was trying his best. “N-need ch-charge.”
“Argh! And it’s not a thunderstorm. What are we supposed to do instead?”
“H-house. Ch-charger.”
“Okay, where’s that?”
Jrum didn’t try answering verbally and just sort of tilted his head so the screen could be seen, displaying coordinates on it. He heard the person repeat it a few times before he darkened the screen again to conserve power.
He could feel the slight bounce from being in the person’s arms as they walked, and while at first it was a little jarring to him, it slowly felt more and more like it was being rocked. He kept expecting feathers to gently brush against him as his dad held him, but it didn’t come. He just fell back asleep.
His brother yelling at him unfortunately woke him back up and Jrum was clinging to his dad again. Grum was scolded, and Jrum realized it wasn’t his dad. He could feel himself being set on a bed and some fumbling around. “Where do I plug this thing in?” Jrum held out his hand and was given the charger cord before plugging it into his port, glad to be charging now that he was all the way down to 4%. 
“You should really build yourself one.”
Jrum didn’t respond, just charging, but the person replied for him. “Can’t you share? I mean you both live here.”
“I’d rather we not. He’ll just taint it with redstone everywhere or those little plants of his.”
That was enough for Jrum to respond. “Uggggh! Shut up and let me charge!”
“You’re the one in my house.”
“It’s our house!”
“Our house? I’m the one who built it. You didn’t even make that whole charger yourself, you got my help as well as Sam’s.”
“Well I need the charger just as much as you!” Jrum yelled, sitting up, and immediately regretting doing that as it felt like his head was spinning. “Stop being so selfish!”
“Oh shut the fuck up!”
“Hey! Language! And don’t talk to your brother like that!” The person said. Jrum was glad they said something, because Jrum just started crying again. Tommy… he cursed a lot. Doc also did plenty. Ren wasn’t quite as bad, but often you could catch him catching himself. Jrum had heard Xisuma throw a few curses out here and there, and even though his dads tried their best, because he was around them so much, Jrum had heard them curse. But this was different. 
He had never heard- okay that wasn’t true. Grum had cursed a few small times, but usually it was something small and when he was more upset at a mistake he made. But this? Grum yelling at him? That had never happened before. Plus, sure Grum tended to be the slightly more mature of them, trying to talk properly and ended up seeming much more robotic, but Jrum knew his brother could be playful and kind too. But recently he had seemed so cold and upset. It was like Jrum didn’t even know his brother.
As Jrum was hugged by the person who had been helping him, neither of them knew what was going on in Grum’s mind as he came to the same thought. It was if he didn’t even know himself.
“Oi! Stop being such a fucking bitch!” Tommy yelled as he flinched away from another piece of TNT Grifter had placed and Tommy had almost run into. “I still don’t know if I’ll fucking respawn!”
“I said you will!” Grifter said, holding back evil giggles.
Tommy grumbled before taking another stick from his inventory and chucking it at the explosive material after walking a few more blocks. The moment the stick touched it, the TNT exploded, leaving a hole behind. 
“I still don’t understand why the fuck we’re here and not back in Helscraft. I thought you wanted to see your boyfriend.”
“He's not my boyfriend, he’s my husband.” Grifter corrected. “And I said there’s something we need to pick up first.”
Tommy rolled his eyes, but continued to follow the hels avian since he didn’t want to get stranded here. “So, you’re also an avian like Grian.”
“Yes I am.” Grifter responded along with a flutter of his wings. “And?”
“Well it’s prettt fucking obvious Grian’s a parrot. I know my Phil’s a crow. The Phil here looked basically the same, but if it’s something else maybe a raven? I heard they have really similar wings. But what are yours?”
“Magpie. And yeah, dad’s a raven.”
“Cool, cool.” Tommy nodded, trying to think of something else to ask. “Uh, what exactly are we after?”
“Aww, don’t you want it to be a surprise?”
“Fuck no. For all I know it’s some trap to try and kill me.”
“I would never!” Grifter said sarcastically. “It’s just something I’m sure Sense wants to see just as much as me. I put them here just before getting trapped and made sure you couldn’t get them again without going to the right coordinations.”
“And how much further do we still need to go?”
“Not much. I could have been there ages ago if I wasn’t dragging you along.”
“You’re the one who kept putting down TNT!”
Grifter responded to that comment by placing down another piece of the explosive, Tommy running into it this time and it lighting, the teen desperately running away before it actually exploded.
“You bird bitch!”
“Oh shut up, we’re here.”
Tommy looked around and saw nothing. “And what’s here?”
Grifter didn’t answer, just smiled as the ground shifted and part of it started to rise from the ground, slowly shifting into an elongated spiral. Tommy watched as the material shifted into bedrock and then magic emanated from it with green particles. Grifter went over and reached a hand in, then a second, and the. He put his whole head in as he continued to look for whatever was on the other side of… Tommy was pretty sure it was a portal.
“THEY’RE AWAKE!” Grifter shouted at the top of his lungs when he pulled his head out again, scaring Tommy and making him fall over in panic.
“Man, what the fuck, don’t do shit like that!”
Grifter didn’t answer, just went back into the portal, this going through time all the way up to his hips. He was short enough his legs were just left flailing around as he tried to reach something on the other end. An arm started to come back and Tommy was surprised it was dragging something along. “What the fuck. Is that Jrumbot?!”
Grifter came back dragging along what looked to be Grumbot. “Oh? They exist in your world? That helps explain it. But no, these are Sefter and… did we ever give the second one a name?”
“You and your version of Mumbo built these?”
“No, not really.”
“Then did you find them somewhere or some shit.”
Tommy regretted asking when Grifter looked at him with a smirk. “You see, when two people love each other a lot, they end up taking all their clothes off and-”
“Don’t you fucking continue with that! And how do you even make something like that when you two are not that?! Wait, never mind. My brother had a fox with a fish.”
“Huh, not adopted then? Good to know. But yeah, I’m sure you’ve heard the parrots and the bats before. And these two came out of one very wonderful night-” “I said don’t talk about it!” “-though they didn’t seem right and so we tried checking them out, but nothing. Then I sort of got a bounty on my head and I hid them away here!”
“So you just had versions of Grum and Jrum before they were built?!”
“Uh, I suppose so. It’s a shame they had to build them and not-“
“Can you please fucking stop and just get us to Helscraft.”
“Of course! I’m sure the kids will love to see their papa.”
“I would ask another question, but I think I know the answer.”
“I can tell you’re right.” Grifter smirked before taking them to Helscraft. “Oh Evil X! Guess who’s back in town!” There was no answer and he pouted. “Hello? Where’s the fun of showing up if no one is here to freak out?”
“Uh, going to see the person you came to visit? Tommy suggested. 
“Well yeah, but I don’t know where he is while you do.” Grifter crossed his arms before looking up at the sky. A few moments later, the reddish purplish hue of the shy shifted into the same color of an ender pearl, maybe a bit brighter. “There, that should let people know I’m here. Now where’s Sense?”
“Uh… we go through the portal on the main island, follow a path with blue clouds until we get to NPG’s place. We pick up something to let us breathe, and then you go right.”
“You go… right? Like is that east? West? North or south?”
Tommy shrugged. “Dunno. It’s just right.”
“Alright fine, just show me where we’re going before everyone shows up to try and trap me again. Come on boys!” Grifter called to the two robots who had been running around who quickly came back over to him. “And maybe on the way I can think of a name for you.” Grifter booped where a nose would be on the hels version of Jrum.
As Tommy guided them, Grifter spent the time brainstorming ideas for names while ignoring all the mobs that were trying to kill them. Tommy did his best to fight off the monsters, but he still didn’t have much gear, still only having what was salvaged from the one room in the prison.
“So obviously my other side and I had the same idea with names, so something based on that, but I’m not sure what would fit there. Do I just use a d as well for defter?”
Tommy shot another of the living cloud things out of the sky, wishing the thing had infinity since he was down to seven arrows. “It was actually a J, but I guess it does sound like Drum instead of Jrum sometimes.”
“Hmm, you’re right, I can sort of hear a difference. Now, I could also do something else… Where did the J come from again?”
“It was from the word junior I think.” Tommy said before needing to dodge an attack, nearly being hit by a second in the process. “You think you want to help out at all?!”
“They’re aggroed on you, not us, so it’s fine. Hmm, maybe something that’s a synonym?”
“Well if I die to these things, then they’ll be after you!”
“Ugh, fine.” Grifter rolled his eyes and summoned some gear for Tommy. “Put on the armor and use that instead of a bow. It works better and is less affected by gravity.”
Tommy took the armor and put it on before looking at the tube he had been given along with a bunch of darts. He tried firing a few of them, but he just kept missing. “I’d prefer arrows over these things!” Tommy shouted back, making the Listener get closer and use some magic on the bow, giving it infinity.
“There? Happy? Now maybe Befter for Brother? Brefter? Hmm, younger Yefter? No, that sounds stupid. I could try another name mix? But already used Sefter and while Pergrift sounds nice, that’s supposed to be our name. Maybe Grifter then Sense? Grise? Grense? Or maybe use Perfect instead and get Grifect. Oh yes! Grifect! Sefter and his little brother Grifect! Oh it’s just right!”
“Great! Now that you figured it out can you please just fucking help out and shit?!”
Grifter rolled his eyes, but did start to help, but he also gave the two helsbots some weapons to see what they could do. Grifect did okay, but Sefter seemed to take to it like a fish to water. Tommy thought it was even a little scary how well the kid was doing. But at the very least it kept them safe while traveling and they were able to move faster, arriving at NPG’s base before too long. 
Grifter refused to take a single step into the place, claiming NPG was his mortal enemy or something, so Tommy was the one to go inside and find what they needed. Rifling through chests, Tommy found some wood called skyroot, and used that to make a chest and sign, dumping the stuff from the prison into it. He then put a sign on the front of the chest for NPG for whenever he got back. ‘Theseus replace me. needed gear. Srry about grifte. Tommy’.
It was a little hard to get the message out while fitting it on the sign, but Tommy hoped it would be enough. He then went over to the nearby armor stands and took armor from the stand that had a set of purple armor as well as an elytra. Based on what Tommy had seen people wearing the short time he had been there, he was pretty sure the pink armor was the equivalent to netherite here, but diamond equivalent would do fine and he didn’t want to steal good armor.
After that he went looking for tools and weapons and food. He grabbed a sword, pick, axe and the masks he came in here for in the first place. During his search, he also grabbed what seemed to be a special crossbow, some more arrows, fireworks, blocks for making bridges, and some food. Finally, just to be completely safe, not knowing how long he would be stuck with all this gear, Tommy also grabbed a wooden bucket filled with water in case of MLG jumps, and a shulker box that he emptied out into other nearby chests.
Out of all the things he was glad to grab, Tommy didn’t expect the water bucket to come in handy so soon, but when he left the base, he was greeted with Grifter putting TNT down to blow the place up. The teen rushed to each of the explosives and covered them with water before detonating them, which left Grifter upset, but at the very least he didn’t seem to try it again.
“Okay, now time to go find Sense.” Tommy spoke up, getting Grifter to stop being as angry as before. He led them on the same path NPG had taken them on the initial visit, eventually leading them to the bridge of purple clouds. Tommy showed the hels avian what he was supposed to do, but instead he just picked up one of the kids and flew them over before grabbing the other and doing the same, leaving Tommy wondering why he hadn’t just used his elytra.
From there, they walked further ahead until they saw a small house. The moment Tommy pointed at it, Grifter raced off towards it, yelling at the top of his lungs. “SEESEE!!! I’M BACK!!!” And just as he was reaching the building, Sense was coming through the door and got tackled by Grifter. Tommy was left to catch up, dragging the kids behind him, glad that this place seemed to be permanently devoid of mobs and he didn’t need to deal with any of them too.
The teen honestly didn’t know what he expected when he found the two helsmits still on the ground kissing each other. The only thing that Tommy didn’t expect at all was the green magic around them, and when Grifter finally pulled away, the teen was surprised to see the scar that had been on Sense’s neck was gone now. “Did… Did you just fucking kiss him to heal him?”
“I mean, I didn’t need to…” Grifter started.
“Oh but it was definitely the best way.” Sense finished for him, sitting up. “And are those who I think they are?”
Grifter jumped back up. “Yes! They were kept perfectly safe and now they’re even active!” He pulled the robot kids over to introduce them. “This one’s Sefter as I believe you probably remember, and now this one is named Grifect. Unless you think another name would do well.”
“No, it fits quite well.” Sense replied before pulling Grifter close to him again. “And you said they’re active? How did you manage that? Was it all those planning sessions?”
“Oh no, I’d never manage to pull off the things you could. It just seems that they showed up before they had counterparts, and now they’re working with them.”
“Ugh, must we be the alternates and not the originals?”
“For all you know, that could mean we end up like those prude mirror versions of ourselves.”
“Hmm, I would miss the mind blowing s-”
“O-Kay! Since you’re together, does this mean I can get back home now? I got you out of prison and now got you to your husband, so now it’s your turn!”
“Yeah yeah. You’re going to need to find EX because I can’t get you there without extra help.”
Tommy’s eyes widened in shock, then anger. “Are you telling me I did all of this shit for you and you can’t fucking do anything?!”
“Hey, I got you out of season four. You couldn’t have done that alone. But I’m just a Listener. If I had help from someone else like a Watcher, then maybe I could do something. EX is an admin, a hacker, is linked to Hermitcraft and that dimension from his brother and the fact that he’s not 100% biologically a hels being.”
Tommy grumbled. “Fine, but can you at least teleport me to him so I don’t have to try and find him myself?”
“No he can’t. He’s not around.” Sense spoke up. “Word went out that he’s off visiting Hermitcraft again.”
“Again? How long has he been going?”
“Since a few months ago when NPG pulled someone over. The message goes out every once and a while leaving someone else in charge. With the bastard that attacked me gone to visit family, Prof’s the one in charge.”
“He’s actually not gone for family. The bitch replaced me instead.”
Sense raised an eyebrow at that. “Is that so? My my, and that lead to Grifter getting out. Wouldn’t it be fun to him coming back and finding someone else in his place.”
“Look, I’m sure you two want plenty of time with each other to do evil and gross things, but unless you can figure something out, I’m gonna bother you two until you fucking do something!”
Grifter rolled his eyes before pulling away from Sense. “Alright fine you little shit. We’ll figure something out. And if we can’t, then we can kill you instead.”
Tommy started backing up. “Uh, did I say bother you two, I meant, I’ll ask politely every once and a while. I’m sure that sounds good, right?”
“No no, Gri’s got a point.” Sense smiled. “With you gone you’ll be gone from Hermitcraft for good, and when that happens, well, the same thing will happen to Theseus. Making sure he can’t try anything more.”
“Aww, c’mon. Maybe since he’s there and I’m here, it won’t work?” Tommy asked in a somewhat pleading tone. “Please don’t kill me.”
Grifter pulled out a piece of TNT, ready to use it on Tommy, when Grifect tugged on his tunic shirt. “Aww, what do you want sweetie? Do you want to have fun with him first?”
“Wouwdn’t uwu wanna huwt the pewson who huwt papa fiwst instead of him?”
Tommy was very conflicted by that. On one hand, it looked like this kid was going to save his life. On the other, did they really need to do it by dealing him who knows how many points of psychic damage? “Uh, yeah, listen to the kid.” ‘Either to make you change your mind or make your ears bleed.’ He continued in his mind.
“Aww, my little pumpkin is already talking!” Grifter cooed, and the second option went out the window. “Well do you have any ideas on what to do?”
“Maybe hacking awnd wistenew powews wowking togethew cawn wowk!” Grifect answered and now Tommy was wondering if maybe death wouldn’t be all that bad. 
“Oh my! Are you telling me you know how to hack! That is wonderful! Oh Sense it’s like the perfect family!”
“Well it’s my family, so of course it is.”
“Yes, everything with you is perfect. Perfect plans, perfect family, perfect-”
“Oh my god please just kill me so I don’t have to listen to this anymore.” Tommy groaned. Fortunately, that seemed to work because apparently he kept ‘killing the mood’ anyway. Within a few moments, Tommy felt like he was falling even though everything around his was a weird purple color. And then suddenly, his feet were on the ground and he was standing in what seemed to be a large empty building. And based on the noises coming outside, said building was in the nether.
“Ugh. Well, at least I still have the fucking gear.”
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dai-ou-sama · 4 years
Text
meimeng fic (pt 1)
post-canon, featuring mei hanxue coming over to sisheng peak to have a sleepover with mengmeng, and flirting (kind of).
no title yet,, just something i’ve been writing,, it’s supposed to be a 2 part fic on ao3 and this is literally the first quarter of part 1,,,,,,, but like idk when i’m going to finish writing this and I DON’T WANT TO DROP IT so i’ll put it up here as i finish it section by section hhhhh ENJOY?
“I’m sleeping with you tonight. We’re having a sleepover.” Mei Hanxue boldly declared, standing outside the door to Xue Meng’s room in his glorious, splendid silk sleeping-robes, with a gigantic bag of – what seemed like – everything he owned in his arms.
Xue Meng, too, was dressed in silk sleeping-robes, though his were a simple white rather than the embroidered, resplendent mess that was Mei Hanxue’s. 
Xue Meng stared at him speechlessly. “No.”
Mei Hanxue smiled kindly and the beauty of his face was enhanced by the soft, orange glow of the fire-lamp hanging above him. “Why not? We’ve already slept together when we were children anyway, it’s like we’re reliving the good old days!”
Xue Meng’s face crumpled and he fumed, “What do you mean ‘why not’? The past is the past, and now is now. As if I’d let someone as immoral as you even come close to my sleeping quarters now - who knows what you’d do at night?! In fact, I must’ve been mad to actually have slept in the same room as you when we were kids. I really put myself in danger!”
Mei Hanxue was completely unbothered by Xue Meng’s rant. “Don’t be so paranoid, Sect Leader Xue. What in the world could I possibly do to a character as grand as you?”
Xue Meng’s frown deepened. “Who knows! If it’s you, fucking anything is possible! And don’t call me ‘sect leader’!”
Mei Hanxue’s eyebrows rose and he selectively ignored Xue Meng’s words. “Oh my, Sect Leader Xue, what dirty things are you thinking about?” 
Xue Meng’s expression changed and he sputtered, “I– What– Who said–” 
But Mei Hanxue’s eyes were glittering now and he cut him off mercilessly, efficiently seizing the opportunity to taunt Xue Meng, “It couldn’t be… Were you thinking of me laying my hands on you? I simply wanted to relive some old memories and play around like we were kids again, but Sect Leader Xue, were you imagining–”
“–You! Obviously not! Stop putting words in my mouth, are you crazy?! Who said I thought about– about anything!” Xue Meng shouted loudly to cut Mei Hanxue off.
Xue Meng had been the one to bring up these matters in the first place, but it was just in his nature to be loud and unreasonable like that, so Mei Hanxue let it slide. Xue Meng’s face was slightly red now and he looked very much like an agitated bird that had puffed its feathers up. Mei Hanxue was faintly delighted by the sight, but he hid his smile.
“Well then, since there’s no doubt in my decency anymore, there’s nothing to fear, is there? I’ll be sleeping here tonight.” With that, Mei Hanxue easily brushed past Xue Meng and stepped into his room, shamelessly setting his things down onto the tea table in the center of the large space. 
Fuck?! What kind of fucking logic was that? Xue Meng stared at the blond-haired man in his stupid, flashy silk robes, looking left and right around his room, saying in appreciation, “Wah, Sect Leader Xue, your room has really gotten an upgrade now that you’ve become a Sect Leader now, huh. What luxury. Even my room is only half the size of yours – hm, although it is a little bit empty and dull.” 
Xue Meng felt his eye twitch in annoyance. He contemplated throwing the teapot at his face in retaliation, and the urge only grew stronger when Mei Hanxue had noticed him still standing frozen at the doorway and asked gently, “Are you going to stand there all night, Sect Leader Xue? No offence, but you look a little stupid.”
Wow, Xue Meng almost threw the entire table at the man who still had a crystal droplet still hanging at his forehead despite his sleeping clothes. In his mind he spitefully (pettily) thought, ‘You look stupid with that crystal in your hair still!’ 
However, Xue Meng was indeed a sect leader now, and he’d gone through hours and hours of Elder Xuan Ji and Elder Tan Lang’s nagging – really, enough for him to wonder if he could really endure another second more of this etiquette training before he went mad with frustration – so he restrained his anger and simply slammed the heavy wooden door shut. 
“Stop calling me ‘sect leader’,” Xue Meng said gloomily, “Why are you even here? To suddenly have an urge to have a– a fucking sleepover – have you gone mad?”
Mei Hanxue and a handful of Taxue Palace disciples had arrived at Sisheng Peak a few days ago with a letter from Palace Master Mingyue Gelou. The letter had explained that the Palace Master had heard that Sisheng peak was starting to do some reconstruction in the towns around Sisheng Peak and felt that she wanted to help as well, so she sent a few disciples over together to assist in their endeavours. Surprisingly, Mei Hanxue had been amongst this group of disciples too.
Mei Hanxue and the disciples would stay for as long as they were needed – until the towns were fully repaired, or at least, until all the ordinary civilians had a proper roof over their heads and they could resume their normal ways of living before the war between the two worlds had broken out. It was a completely no strings attached offer of aid and Xue Meng had been extremely touched by Palace Master Mingyue Gelou’s sincerity and generosity. What he didn’t understand, though, was why someone as reputed as Mei Hanxue – as much as Xue Meng resented the idea of admitting this – was here to help with such menial tasks as well. 
While Mei Hanxue and Mei HanXue had come over to visit Sisheng peak rather often ever since he’d become the sect leader and having their presence around him had become quite normal, however, they usually didn’t stay long and would leave after they finished up their matters, or after a dinner together with Xue Meng.
At first, Xue Meng had thought that maybe Mei Hanxue was just here for courtesy sake and would only stay for a while to supervise his disciples before returning to Mount Kunlun. However, not only had Mei Hanxue actually stayed and gone with the lower disciples to help with the renovations, he’d also been obediently helping Xue Meng with some administrative sect matters. All in all, he’d been very helpful in the time he’d spent here, and Xue Meng had been simultaneously pleasantly surprised, annoyed, and suspicious. 
He had no idea what this frivolous pretty-boy was scheming now, or if he was even doing so. But the past few days had been completely unproblematic, and Xue Meng had almost started to believe that Mei Hanxue was really here to just help out of the kindness of his heart. He’d even started to feel a little sorry for his earlier suspicions – though he would never say a word of it aloud, and thank god for that because just as he had started to feel so, Mei Hanxue had barged into his room and demanded they have a sleepover. Xue Meng really wanted to spit on any of the previous guilt he’d felt just before.
In front of him, Mei Hanxue turned to face him. He paused for a moment, and something flickered dimly in his eyes, but it vanished before Xue Meng had noticed it. Mei Hanxue smiled brightly. “After staying at Sisheng Peak these past few days, I was reminded of the time we’d slept together as kids. Then I realised it’s actually been a while since we last sat around and had a good chat, so I decided to come over tonight and reminisce with you!”
As Mei Hanxue said this, he nimbly untied his monstrosity of a bag and, to Xue Meng’s horror, pulled out a five-tiered tiffin carrier from it’s midst. A few pieces of his luxurious robes were accidentally pulled out along with it and they slid to the floor, already creating a mess in the few minutes he’d arrived. The tiffin carrier itself was a beautiful, polished black, and there were elegant gold engravings all around it – it was almost as extravagant as the dozens of pastries and desserts that were contained inside.
Xue Meng was rendered speechless once more. “You– …Mei Hanxue, that could feed six people at least. Are you actually stupid?”
Mei Hanxue shrugged and sat down, already picking one of the pastries up to eat. “Not as stupid as you.” 
Xue Meng threw a teacup at him in rage. Mei Hanxue dodged.
Somehow, Mei Hanxue, with his careful words and honey-soaked voice, had managed to coax Xue Meng into sitting down and eating with him. Although Xue Meng was still grumpy at first, he soon relaxed once more. Firstly, because the snacks really were quite delicious – not that Xue Meng would admit that – and secondly, because Mei Hanxue was a master at flattery – not that Xue Meng was aware of it.
Before the little peacock had even realised, hours of chatting (bickering) and snacking had already passed, and by the time Xue Meng yawned, he was in a much more agreeable mood than he’d been in when Mei Hanxue had first arrived.
Mei Hanxue watched him quietly with his face resting against his palm. Then he smiled and said, “Sect Leader Xue, it’s getting late. We should probably rest soon.”
Xue Meng humphed and stood up, heading straight for the bed. “Don’t call me ‘sect leader’.” Behind him, Mei Hanxue laughed a little and responded with an appeasing ‘alright, alright’, then went about the room putting out the candle lamps.
Because Mei Hanxue had managed to spend the last few hours plying Xue Meng with good food and an ample amount of less-than-subtle praise about all the wonderful things Sect Leader Xue had been doing nowadays, Xue Meng didn’t kick up a fuss when Mei Hanxue slipped under the covers beside him.
For a moment, it seemed as if Xue Meng had already fallen asleep, then his eyes fluttered open and he turned to glare at Mei Hanxue warily. “Mei Hanxue… I’ll say this again: you better not try anything funny – otherwise, I’ll actually murder you.”
Mei Hanxue simply returned his glare with an unbothered curl of his lips. Something gentler was hidden in his gaze, but it was too dark for Xue Meng to notice it. The sheets shifted, then Mei Hanxue reached out and flicked Xue Meng across the forehead. “I’m not going to, Mengmeng. Now get your head out of the gutter and go to sleep.”
Xue Meng bristled and made to push himself up. The words ‘you fucker’ were already halfway out of his mouth, but then, Mei Hanxue started… snoring? 
Xue Meng paused, then rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Hey.” He reached out and jabbed Mei Hanxue’s cheek with a finger. “You dog, stop pretending.”
Mei Hanxue remained motionless, his face the perfect picture of tranquility and ease. The only sound in the room was his peaceful snoring, sounding oddly elegant. Xue Meng continued to jab his cheek, pinch it, pull at it; at one point, he even shoved a finger up Mei Hanxue’s nose. In response, Mei Hanxue only frowned a little, and unconsciously swiped his hand away, but he remained asleep.  
Minutes passed like that, and Xue Meng eventually gave up with a frown, the rest of his annoyance already washed away by his disbelief and confusion. He muttered to himself, “He actually fell asleep…? Is that even possible?” Then with a final, incredulous glance at the sleeping figure beside him, he scratched his head, turned and settled back beneath the blankets. 
Xue Meng hadn’t realised just how tired he’d been. He fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. Eventually, at some point through the night, he’d turned in his sleep and ended up facing Mei Hanxue. 
Unsurprisingly, Mei Hanxue hadn’t actually fallen asleep. Xue Meng was just a little dumb and Mei Hanxue was just very committed to his act.
“I can’t believe you actually dared stick your finger up my nose, Ziming. How rude.” Mei Hanxue said quietly, his hand coming up to stroke Xue Meng’s cheek. His touch was featherlight, the lightest brush of his fingers. “What an idiot,” Mei Hanxue laughed to himself silently, then he flicked Xue Meng’s nose, causing the sleeping man to scrunch his nose a little and swipe his hand away, quite similar to the way Mei Hanxue had pretended to do earlier.
For a while, Mei Hanxue just watched the sleeping figure in front of him. Xue Meng’s features were softened by both sleep and moonlight, making him look much younger now that he was just breathing. It was only now that he was lulled by sleep, that his face looked peaceful; that it was free of worries and anxieties. Mei Hanxue felt some of the tightness that had been in his chest since he’d first seen him when he first arrived ease.
Mei Hanxue took in the paleness of his face, the inky shadows that stained the delicate skin beneath his eyes, telling of the exhaustion that now plagued his entire being. His thumb continued to stroke over Xue Meng’s cheek, perhaps in an unconscious attempt to provide him with some comfort. 
The newly inducted sect leader. The foolish peacock. The darling of the heavens that nobody could care for. Dared to care for. Thought of caring for. Arrogant, and radiant, and too far out of anyone’s reach to be properly comforted. Mei Hanxue caressed his sleeping face with gentle hands, quietly hoping it would ease some of the pain that now marred the deepest part of his being. To take away some of the hurt that was hidden out of sight to everyone else who only spared him a passing glance.
‘It’ll be okay,’ Mei Hanxue said with the touch of his fingers against Xue Meng’s skin, with his gaze. ‘I’m here now, Ziming. It’ll be okay.’
oook that’s all for now; hope you enjoyed this very unedited meimeng crumb
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vynnyal · 4 years
Text
Throwing random thoughts, headcanons, and a variety of pasta at the wall (but only those having to do with vessels and/or their biology this time): The Thrilling Third Installment™
...aka pretending i can be dark and dramatic jskhdfd
Thk's larger form is not the standard, but the exception. Thk was cited as being "raised and trained to prime form", which people take to mean pk assisted in the vessel's natural growth. However, that conclusion leaves a lot of unanswered questions, most important of which being “then what about Ghost?” In short, I think that train of thought is backwards. Vessels can't grow- they are ageless, and immortal. We know this due to Ghost, despite living as long if not longer than thk, being completely unchanged over the years. The only thing pk trained into "prime form" was thk’s mind and fighting prowess. Their body... well, I think it was mutated. Most likely either directly by pk, or ordered by him- and with the shenanigans happening over in the sanctum, I wouldn't be surprised if Soul was involved, too. In any case, it was in no means natural. Vessels are corpses reanimated by void; neither corpses nor void tend to make drastic changes on their own all that often. Whether pk predicted the vessel’s “issues” and intended to manually “upgrade” them from the beginning, it's hard to say. But... yeah. Unless Ghost goes out of their way to make themselves grow- if its even possible, now that pk is gone- its fairly safe to say, they never will.
...with that in mind, we are promptly gonna ignore that for the rest of this post lmaooo
Grown-up vessels wouldn't look like thk; while they are described as being raised into "prime form"... prime form, to whom? Rather than looking like an idealized pk soldier, it sounds much more fitting that they’d have an entirely different, natural adult form. Consider: their cloaks being longer and fuller, perhaps filling out into something with a more practical use to their “species”. Better yet, they could even grow up to be more beast-like. Feral vessels, YEhaW
The black egg temple is cited as being "built to sustain [vessels]", yet it can't be their lifespan that is sustained. Rather, it seems the egg is specifically designed to keep the radiance from tearing thk apart, physically and/or mentally. Ngl its p obvious, but worth noting.
Sorta-au where Ghost’s shade has 8 eyes, and/or is generally all-around more cryptid-looking.
@ the sharpshadow charm and the strange, 6-eyed creature their shade turns into: kudos to this post, they bring up something super interesting- the creature not only resembles the Shade Lord, but the lord outright becomes it during the Embrace the Void cutscene.
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makes me respect the ol’ civilization a whole lot more if a single charm can turn a baby shade into a baby lord.
The concept of finding ghosts unconscious body, laying next to a corpse, while they battle in their dreams. Alt: when ghost enters the dream realm, their shade leaves their shell... And protects their body from harm.
If steel soul mode is taken as canon, just how did ghost and the shade meet? Alt: Ghost may never have “met” it at all, as it technically doesn’t exist in that mode- instead, its more of a metaphor than an actual entity.
What the vessels looked like- or were supposed to look like- before the void. Alt: a story following a child, alive and untouched, that somehow managed to be spared. They could even have a gender. Alt alt: the void intentionally spared them for some purpose, or even out of simple kindness- or at least, something that resembles kindness.
Re: the shade inexplicably having a nail: all the vessel's swords are crafted from “will-bearing rock”- of which i’ve come to lovingly call living stone- and as such, are of void themselves. That's how the shade seems to conjure up its own copy; it merely shapes it, from the ground, using void. And, while more of a stretch, Ghost’s nail being some sort of living stone/pale ore alloy could explain just how Ghost can do seemingly pretty crazy things with an otherwise ordinary nail. Better, while 100% a baseless hc, its material might actually enable Ghost to build it up and modify it to suite their size as they grow older. finally, a logical reason adult Ghost has an adult-sized nail-claymore. hdsfghjfghdsjf
On that same thought: Ghost outright invented the "art" of manipulating- or creating- living stone to make their nail. ...gimme a sec. The other escaped vessels have nails, too, right? Either meaning they also discovered this ability... or that theres some legitimate ground for the “vessel gang” hc. Or, yanno, i’m reading too much into Ari’s sprites but sHHhh
How did all the vessels know to race to the top? They seemed to be falling merely because they had just been born and had literal, actual baby strength; yet not only did they inexplicably risk everything competing to the top, they somehow knew death was waiting if they lost. Alt: pk just, bringing a fucking megaphone and telling them like a sports announcer.
What if Ghost made it, and instead of falling, they managed to joined thk at the lip? What would pk do? Push them off the edge??? Or just adopt them both?? Oh fuck au where they're raised as twin sacrifices. Or worse yet, they’re raised unequally, and one is trained only as an afterthought. As a backup.
Alternatively, pk keeps all the vessels au, only a few years later when they're grown. Pk now has a literal army of pure knights. Radiance is fucked.
Hm. If vessels were fully coherent entities from the moment of birth, why was there a crib in the white palace? Did... did they use it? I have a feeling team cherry made that asset before the abyss scene lmaooo alt: they did, uh, use the crib. Cue a very awkward scene of thk, clearly not a normal baby, staring at wl with like... idk, the poofy baby hat and pacifier. I can’t tell if the image is more funny or more sad rn shdfgfjsdgg
The og notes that inspired this post, in case my rambling makes more sense (and w/o the awful comic hjsfgjsdfhj): Oh oh OH i GET it now. The void is all about "will" and whatnot, right? And shades are "fragments of a lingering will"- will, like the one you leave after your death, but instead of inheritance its the vessels' desires...last regrets.... DAMN team cherry, that symbolism is clever as heck. That took me a while. Kinda funny how a will is, technically, a person's last regrets Like I knew they were last regrets but I didn't understand WHY. Duh, it's because they're literally Made Of Will. They are the vessel's "wills". I'm so stupid.
Ghost, walking thru the abyss, getting increasingly fed up / freaked out, ducking into a crack in the wall. They follow the crack into the Scream Chamber, pause, then exhale in relief that this was EXACTLY what they needed.
Ghost's shade rolling up its void-sleeves like “fuck it, ima defeat thk myself”
Why was thk's sword there? Was its pedestal decayed? Did it fall from their body? Was it place there as an afterthought, or hurriedly? alt: taking thk's sword before freeing them, but doing the mom thing like you're grounding them hdhfjchjch
I can’t believe it just occured to me now, but... as objectivley stupid as the vessel’s test was, Ghost... technically came in second place. What if that whole scene was a metaphor? Because really, it’s just too silly to take seriously. To do so isn’t too far fetched, either; many other elements in the game’s story are better taken as symbolic or metaphorical, anyways. Take the PoP cutscene- while it could’ve been a literal moment, where they just happened to find themselves standing around and took the moment to appreciate each other... imo it makes much more sense to read it as the concept of their faint ~forbidden love~ and parental pride itself. Or, better yet, the scene at the end of the 4th pantheon. Sorry, but I severely doubt that was an actual event. What I’m trying to get at is the significance of “second place” in the cutscene. My brain is too fried to chase down any other possible connections to this theme rn (if thats even what the theme is), but even without proof, the theory smooths out a few interesting tidbits related to just how Ghost could tough it out when all others failed. All except for #1, anyway. Either way I’m just happy to take this as an excuse to pretend that cutscene didn’t literally happen because like, l m a o
The story of a small group of vessels as they work together to escape hallownest. (aka the aforementioned vessel gang hc... im sure theres a more formal name but you get the idea). Its impossible to tell how long it took them to discover that near-invisible hole, the last exit remaining after the king ordered the abyss to be sealed up. Once they did, however, the remaining vessels were quick to make a desperate scramble to escape- only for the entrance to suddenly crumble shut, far, far too soon. The remaining 8 slowly made their way through deepnest, their numbers quickly dwindling as the jouney started to take its toll. The group was nearly wiped out by those terrible, spiney-legged creatures that used their own kinship against them. Only three finally escaped the deep, yet only two made it through the basin- the third, largest sibling, left to fight alone againt a hopeless battle, just to buy the others time. It was in greenpath, so close yet so far to their goal, that the second succumbed to the infection. It was a mercy killing, that nail through the heart. The last, after all of that, finally made their way to the very precipice of howling cliffs, hesitating for just a moment to gaze out upon the still-fresh ruins of hallownest. But only for a moment, before Ghost jumps down to begin their journey beyond this wretched place.
A vessel running from its shade as it tirelessly pursues them, the vessel refusing to put it to rest.
tw: suicide, + personal on main
Ugh ugh ugh ugh Either thk was fully conscious and in terrible pain for all those years... or they couldn’t feel anything at all. The former is horrible, but imagining thk waking up, chained, unable to do anything but wait for Ghost to heed their call? Did they turn their nail on themselves to help Ghost, end the pain, or some awful mix of both? For someone who has personally dealt with close friends and family that struggled with suicide themselves, hollowknight is one of the worst horror stories I've ever seen. And the fact that the story is so personal, so open to interpretation? The fact that each character is so genuine yet vague enough to be read completely differently to someone else’s biases? Its why hollow knight- the game, and the character- will forever be one of the most powerful stories to me.
in short, good LORD THIS GAME IS SO FUCKING SAD
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lovelylogans · 3 years
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what are your favorite episodes of gilmore girls?
ooOOOOOOH GREAT QUESTION i’ll break it down season by season:
season one
pilot. i mean, obviously. it sets them all up so well, character-wise; plus, you can tell some episodes in season one that were filmed shortly after the pilot vs a while later, just bc of emily’s differing hair lengths
the lorelai’s first day at chilton: introduces such great characters (paris, madeline, louise) and also is such a great way to continue the transition into learning about this world
rory’s birthday parties: god. just. the stark difference between emily and richard’s world vs stars hollow...... the found family of practically all of stars hollow showing up to rory’s home party...... “lorelai’s right. i don’t know my daughter at all.”...... God
forgiveness and stuff: like, gOD. a masterclass of acting especially from kelly bishop and lauren graham; it hits so differently after edward hermann’s actual passing. luke and lorelai’s relationship displayed on what he’d do for her. lord!
paris is burning: paris................ the Beginning of turning from enemies to friends...... plus, like, you get to see some of lorelai’s commitment issues, which plays out throughout the entire series (sometimes To My Great Aggravation)
concert interruptus: the bangles 🥺paris and rory 🥺
christopher returns: i mean. you see the dynamic between rory and christopher, lorelai and christopher, and emily, richard, and christopher, which just paints such a clearer picture of what lorelai’s life might have been like back then. PLUS, emily being soft toward rory; it’s one of my fave relationship moments for them, and i kind of regret taking that line from her and giving it to christopher in wyliwf.
star crossed lovers and other strangers: the same way we get to see emily and rory, we get to see richard and lorelai; also, you can see how lorelai’s commitment issues might have inadvertently affected rory in this. plus i love love LOVE the backstory of the stars hollow lovers festival, i wish they’d repeated it in later seasons!
emily in wonderland: i really wish you’d gotten to see the effect of learning about lorelai and rory living in the shed play out more than a one-episode arc, i really wish we did, but like. emily bishop, once again, acting her damn heart out. phenomenal.
season two
the road trip to harvard: you get to see the beginnings of how rory leaving for college might affect lorelai, plus you get to see rory in her ivy league habitat. luke getting so suddenly, “inexplicably” cheerful when he hears that lorelai’s not marrying max. and at the very ending emily being sympathetic to max. bless it.
nick & nora/sid & nancy: first jess ep. “dodger.” what else is there to say. points off lorelai tho for immediately losing it at jess when he snarks at her, when, like, that is your move, lorelai, you should recognize that?
presenting lorelai gilmore: rory stepping more and more into her grandparents’ world in a way lorelai never wanted to; though i don’t ship christopher and lorelai, their dance scene is adorable. plus, emily and richard fighting a bit and the beginnings of richards (seasons long!) arc about his journey with his work.
the ins and oust of inns: MIA. you get to see mia for the first time! lorelai and sookie having a fight is :( but you get to see lorelai’s turmoil over actually leaving the inn. emily coming to see mia! luke yelling at the town over them being rude about luke! lorelai coming to his defense! rory telling jess off and jess wordlessly fixing luke’s toaster in silent apology!
the bracebridge dinner: GOD. love it. the horses and carriages! the absurd historical acting! emily and richard! rory and jess! luke and lorelai! it’s fantastic!
a-tisket, a-tasket: I LOVE THIS EPISODE. some of the town absurdity that was just A Plus. “it’s not like she’s shipping off to ‘nam!” is a great line. jackson proposing to sookie! and poor lane........
there’s the rub: emily and lorelai, seeing how great they could get along, but seeing how either of them wreck it just when it’s getting a-okay. god. it’s just such a great microcosm of their relationship.
dead uncles and vegetables: luke......... Luke. lorelai and rory and jess all rallying around him in their ways, and stars hollow by extension. even tho they were pretty shitty at first, they, like. managed to make it up to him in the end.
lorelai’s graduation day: GOD LAUREN GRAHAM, KELLY BISHOP, AND EDWARD HERMANN KILL IN THE GRADUATION SCENE!!!!! i ADORE that shot of the three of them, gets me every single time!!! the only thing i dislike about it is rory accidentally missing the graduation bc....... :/. like. i really like jess. but. come on.
i can’t get started: sookie’s wedding!!! her freaking out over the cake so much in her dress is So Her, she looked so pretty omg! plus, if the spa ep is a good microcosm of emily and lorelai, this is a great microcosm for christopher and lorelai. plus!!!! RORY AND JESS FIRST KISS!!!!!!
season three (look, full disclosure, seasons 3/4 are like. my faves. so)
haunted leg: gosh. lauren graham kills it in that last couple scenes. plus! kirk asking lorelai out on a date is hilarious! emily and lorelai’s lunch at luke’s going So Bad! and i know that not a ton of people like the francie chilton student politics intrigue subplot isn’t great for some people, but i do think that the potential was Great and there are definitely some really good scenes that arose from that subplot, so
take the deviled eggs... like. just. a great blend of town insanity (patty’s new boy, the town loner pitching a protest no one knows the reason behind) and lorelai and rory bonding (by deviled-egging jess’ CAR) and just!!! yes!!!!
they shoot gilmores, don’t they?: i mean. come ON. what list would be complete without this? literally every single favorites list has this episode on there. the dance marathon is the perfect example of town insanity! lane and dave getting their bonding! that little luke and lorelai moment about having kids! that scene of rory crying into lorelai’s shoulder!
a deep-fried korean thanksgiving: i love the whole “three thanksgivings” thing. Can Relate, Do Understand. i think that lorelai freaking out at rory for applying to yale is definitely a contrived subplot (i mean. she was never going to apply to only harvard. ma’am.) but i do like seeing sookie, and luke and jess, and just.... Yeah
dear emily and richard: our ONLY flashback ep! while i do think that only lauren graham can really pull lorelai off, the actress is, like, fairly decent (young christopher, however, does not really fit) and you just! yeah! you get to see them back in their youth and FINALLY get the context of how lorelai ran away!
the big one: like! yay paris! lorelai’s reaction (”i’ve got the good kid!”) is Gross, Frankly! it’s gross and bad! but also poor paris 🥺but!!! rory helping to comfort her afterwards!! richard falling asleep in the middle and having No idea of what just went down is also inexplicably hilarious to me!
those are strings, pinocchio: i mean. it’s the graduation episode. God. i just???? god. it’s such a great episode, there’s so many great moments, i just. 🥺
season four
the lorelais’ first day at yale: a great little titling parallel to chilton, but also, rory panicking when lorelai leaves is like. such a Thing ya know??? i just. yeah. i really like that ep it’s a nice introduction
the festival of living art: one, this show won its only emmy bc of the makeup, so that alone is great. uh, kirk being so adversary to the guy who plays judas is god tier humor! plus! sookie and jackson having their baby!
ted koppel’s big night out: THE FOOTBALL GAME EPISODE! i actually kind of love it, but more the first half than the latter; it’s such an emily and richard way to prepare for a football game, you know? and then meeting pennilyn lott! igniting the arc of emily and richard having doubts about their marriage which has Acting! Moments! but this also has jason and lorelai’s first date, which i Dislike, bc i Dislike Jason Very Much.
nag hammadi is where they found the gnostic gospels: seeing jess come back into town and you get to see how unfinished things are between him and rory..... the luke angst..... Yes.
the incredible sinking lorelais: a very realistic part of college, imo, in which you feel overwhelmed and anxious and EVERYTHING SUCKS NOW CAN I JUST CALL MY MOM, though i wish they’d set it up a bit more and followed it longer than an episode, and also that rory hadn’t gone to dean; but also, trix, and richard standing up to her, which!
scene in a mall: idk i just love this episode? seeing emily in her shopping element; seeing her break down in that way; seeing how shopping is like, one of her Only ways to execute power, and how she’s kind of jealous of lorelai’s career bc she was born into a generation where the only thing it was really acceptable for her to do was cultivate a husband and a nice house; plus!!! that last bit of emily and richard and the apples at the table just BREAKS your heart!!!
girls in bikinis, boys doin’ the twist: SPRING BREAAAAK which is so unexpected for paris and rory and therefore very funny. you get to see madeline and louise again—i actually really love their characters, lmao! paris and rory kiss! just! yeah!
tick, tick, tick, boom!/afterboom: another “idk i just enjoy it” episode. richard and floyd coming to a head; kirk’s easter egg hunt; seeing little davey. however i have some Words for rory because lindsay deserves better??? i understand that she could get a part time job but also MIND YOUR BUSINESS?????? dean’s the one taking classes! that’s an unnecessary expense! he has two jobs!! he’s allowed to take a pause!!! also i can’t believe i’m forced to defend dean right now!!! fuck asher, tho, but yay! breaking up with jason!!! yay breaking up with jason!!!!!!
luke can see her face/last week fights, this week tights: i can’t, okay??? i literally had to. the beginning of jess’ (admittedly mostly off-screen) development arc! luke and the self-help books! the absurdity of the renaissance wedding! the WEDDING DANCE!!! 
raincoats and recipes: truly an episode has never gone from such a “FUCK YESSSSSS FINALLY” scene to a “FUCK NOOOOOO WHAT ARE YOU DOINGGGGGG” but honestly it’s just. it’s Such a fantastic episode like i can’t
season five
written in the stars: their first date 🥺the horoscope 🥺”i am in, lorelai. i am all in.” 🥺 HER GOING DOWNSTAIRS IN JUST HIS SHIRT 🥺 HIM YELLING AT THE TOWN ABOUT HOW IT’S THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND NONE OF THEIR BUSINESS 🥺🥺🥺
we got us a pippi virgin: literally the concept alone of “nearly coming to blows via bop it” is great. also luke being like “rory is like pippi!” and showing off what a high regard he holds her in 🥺
emily says hello: LITERALLY so many great little things about this episode. emily deciding she wants to try dating! rory and christopher snapping at each other! KELLY BISHOP’S ACTING AFTER THE DATE WHEN SHE CLOSES THE DOOR ON HIM AND BURSTS INTO TEARS!!!!!!!
women of questionable morals: the dog. 
wedding bell blues: HUNDREDTH EPISODE couldn’t NOT make it on here, so here it is!!! luke and lorelai looking at each other when she’s next to the aisle! luke and christopher both yelling and logan—AcTING! also emily being so manipulative even on her second wedding day, it’s just So classically her, and kelly bishop and lauren graham in the final scene is just. Mwah!
so... good talk: rory literally stepping into lorelai’s shoes for a dinner and being the one to snap at emily and richard is Such a role reversal for her but honestly whenever it does happen i actually really enjoy seeing the dichotomy between the grandparents seeing rory as their perfect little second chance and lorelai seeing her as her mini-me and how rory walks the line between each. AND THAT ENDING KISS SCENE BETWEEN LUKE AND LORELAI????? I CAN’T?????
pulp friction: LORELAI CONTINUING TO ICE OUT EMILY AND RICHARD!!!!! the yelling scene at the diner!!!! plus seeing the chilton skirt come out again was nice imo i too have reused private schoolwear
season six (the season, admittedly, i have watched the least)
we’ve got magic to do: the outfits of the dar bash. paris’ sudden dedication to the proletariat. emily’s rant to shira. that is all
twenty-one is the loneliest number: them finally starting to talk; “this is luke, my soon-to-be-stepfather”; the pastor scene is also just. hilarious. but also so very richard and emily
let me hear your balalaikas ringing out: lorelai’s emotions toward paul anka being sick Oof and luke and the soccer team lmao but also JESS RETUUUUURNS!!!!! RORY SNAPS OUT OF IT!!!!!! FINALYYYYYYY!!!!
friday night’s alright for fighting: literally the montage of all of them intercut with fighting and them sitting in silence while the other two yell in the background to them laughing is just. Peak gilmore
this turned out..... even longer than expected lmao
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neonxrain · 3 years
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Hi .. Hello... its rambling/venting/info dump time . 
So i realized today after listening to “sleep baby sleep” by Broods on a loop for what seemed like forever that I have passed on so many opportunities to be in a meaningful relationship with someone who genuinely cared. 1/3 because I am clueless, 1/3 because I am usually chasing after someone who is later proven a complete waste of time, and the last part because I am scared of having an actual meaningful and very very real relationship. 
Like ya’ll this is a thing I am constantly bitching about ... Wanting true love and how I am always feeling lonely... And I’ve kinda closed myself off due to bad experiences and my own insecurities. 
Idk. I feel like I should be a little more open and not just expect the worst from someone. Maybe once things get back to normal and the vaccine obliterates covid I would be open to maybe dating in person again. 
Right now I am feeling slightly confused about my feelings. I feel like I am falling for someone I have felt attracted to in the past. But I doubt he feels the same way. That and he lives half way across the country. I kinda deleted most of my social media. I will prob only leave tumblr... I have gotten rid of fb and ig... next is snapchat . But at the same time thats the only place I talk to him.  🤷‍♀️. Like my delusional self would love it if we exchanged numbers but again doubtful. 
So maybe I just need to start fresh. Meet new people... and not continuously recycle old flames. I mean there is a reason things didn’t work out at blank time/times right? 
Anyways yes... I feel like once snapchat is gone I can finally just put every and all things behind me. But also its going to be very isolating.
If you managed to read my whole soap story THANKS! ha ha .
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nattikay · 4 years
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Just trying to sort out some thoughts, came here cuz not sure where else to do it. Might delete later.
So we’ve had Maisie for almost a week now an honestly, it’s...caused me a lot more stress than I’d expected it to. Don’t get me wrong, I like her, and I don’t plan to give her back to the shelter or anything, good gracious, no--but tbh I feel a little guilty for not being ~euphoric~ over the whole scenario, and I’m just trying to work out why.
Don’t worry she is being well taken care of! This is an emotional issue, not an ability-to-care-for issue.
I think some of it may have its roots in our old cat, Harry Pawter. We got Harry when I was around 9 years old and I loved him. However, being a child when we got him, I was never really super good at taking care of him; most of the animal care wound up falling on my parents. 
Harry, for the most part, was a pretty good cat most of his life, but he started developing health problems around his last two years or so. By this point I was in high school, and for all intents and purposes should’ve been old enough and responsible enough to step in and help take proper care of him. But by that point, I hadn’t really formed those habits and...I never really did. Not as much as I should have. And looking back...tbh I feel really bad about it, and wonder if I didn’t love him as much as I should have, or as much as I thought I did. My dad would certainly imply at much when he got frustrated with the cat, and that...kinda sunk its way into my brain, I guess.
I’ve mentioned before that we lost Harry my freshman year of college, my very first semester. But I haven’t told the whole story, because well...I feel really bad about it. But maybe it’ll be good to get it off my chest.
See, Harry’s health had been declining for a while at that point (he was now 9 years old btw). He was struggling to keep himself clean and having more and more accidents outside the litterbox. My dad took him to the vet, and the vet suspected he may have had a brain tumor. All this was happening recently after I started my first semester of college, so I wasn’t home at the time, only getting this info via phone calls. 
My dad didn’t want to pay for expensive tests and surgeries for a cat, so was considering putting him down. I was obviously not in favor of that idea, so we decided that we’d wait until I came home for Christmas and then discuss what to do about the Harry situation.
But we never got the chance. Around November, there was some sort of leak under the fridge or something (I don’t remember the details; again I wasn’t home at the time) and we had to get a lot of work done in there to fix it, which included having all the tiles completely removed and huge fans placed in the kitchen to blow away the ensuing dust. In order to keep Harry out of the way of the construction, we wound up regulating him to the screened-in back patio (and for further context: Harry had always been an indoor-only cat, and never showed much interest in going outside). Needless to say, on top of his health concerns, this construction and jarring change in environment was probably really stressful for him. One day, he found his way out of the patio...and never came back. 
We...don’t really know for sure what happened to him after that. I like to say that he passed away rather than ran away, partly because he didn’t really have great survival skills and between that and his already-present health issues, well...I don’t think he would’ve survived long as a stray, and I prefer to imagine that his suffering ended as quickly and painlessly as possible. Even if he did manage to survive for a while then, he’s almost certainly gone now, given that he’d be nearly 15 by this point...but I digress.
All that said...idk, I guess I never really got any proper closure with Harry. And the more I learn about how to properly care for a cat, especially doing all the research I’ve been doing for Maisie...well, the worse I feel for him.
It’s not that we were bad owners, per se, and we certainly weren’t malicious in any way...but man, we could’ve done so much better. Harry was definitely overfed and undergroomed and we didn’t really know how to deal with his issues later in life...again, we weren’t malicious, but I think we were ignorant. I can’t really blame myself in the early years given that I was a literal child but by the time I reached high school and the like...idk I just feel like I could have and should have done so much better. I wonder how many issues could’ve been resolved if we’d been more attentive, more vigilant. Had been willing to put in more effort than just “meh fill up his food bowl twice a day and have Dad change the litter once in a while”.
And with all that considered, well...let’s just say I have doubts as to my prowess as a cat guardian. I want to make sure what went wrong with Harry goes right with Maisie and I just...idk. It’s just been a lot more emotional pressure than I expected it to be, even more so considering I haven’t yet quite formed the emotional bond with Maisie that I felt with Harry (not that I necessarily should have expected to at this point, given that we’ve only had Maisie for less than a week whereas we had Harry for nine years). But still.
And I mean, it’s not like taking care of Maisie has been difficult from an objective standpoint. It boils down to just feeding her (and making sure it’s the right amount of food), cleaning her litterbox, and playing with her, all of which are pretty simple and straightforward (well actually trying to figure out the right amount of food for her age and size has been a bit of a chore but I digress). 
Again, it’s not the tasks themselves that are an issue...it’s, I guess, the emotional baggage, or something. Knowing that as my cat the responsibility rests squarely on my shoulders (as opposed to having Harry where my parents took up most of the tasks) probably contributes as well.
Probably doesn’t help that this was a rather sudden development as well. It was only a week ago that we even seriously entertained the possibility of getting a new cat, and now here we are. It all happened so fast, it...almost doesn’t seem real.
Then again, not much has been feeling “real” to me lately. But that’s a separate issue and one for my therapist. :P
I also, despite all objective evidence to the contrary, feel almost like I’m being a burden my bringing Maisie into the house. I know that I shouldn’t...it wasn’t even my idea. My brother made the suggestion, my mom endorsed it, my dad ultimately agreed. The whole family seems to like her, even my dad who is by far the least of a cat-person out of all of us has pet her and talked soft to her (I expected him to mostly ignore her).
But...well, ok, another (shorter) storytime. My parents, while they don’t dislike pets, have had enough of them to last their lives, especially after Harry’s troubled final years, which we kids (regrettably) did not do much to help with despite being older by then. About a year or two after we lost Harry, a family in our church was giving away a bunny for adoption after their two dogs didn’t take well to it. My sister, who has always loved bunnies, begged and begged and begged to adopt it, and after promising and promising to take care of it, my parents finally relented. Alas, the bunny did not wind up being as friendly and cuddly as my sister expected, and after a few weeks she lost interest in it, leaving the bulk of the care responsibilities to our youngest brother (who, to his credit, did pretty well...honestly he’s just pretty good with animals in general, of all types...dogs are his top preference but he’ll happily work with just about anything). Not long later, the poor bunny injured itself, and upon doing some research my parents found that bunnies rarely heal properly from that type of injury (I forget what it was exactly, again I was away in college at the time so don’t recall all the details) and that the most humane option was to put it down. We only had that bunny for a few months.
After that, my dad was (understandably) hesitant to bring another pet into the house, however hard we promise to care for it, cuz last time he relented he got burned and a poor bunny had to suffer. When he agreed to let us get a new cat, he included the (reasonable) stipulation that if it ever seems like we’re not taking proper care of kitty, he’s allowed to make the call to give her up back to the shelter.
Now, I have absolutely zero intentions of pulling a sister-and-the-bunny on Maisie, and I very much plan to take as good care of her as possible. But...you can see how there’s some emotional pressure there, yeah? ^^; 
I feel like I have to be an absolutely flawless owner else I’ve let everyone down and proven that my promises to care for her were just talk. I’m afraid people will get mad at Maisie for doing Cat Things and I’ll take the fall and it’ll be assumed I’m not taking proper care of her because I can’t train her well enough. I’m afraid any inconvenience that naturally comes from owning and animal will by default get pinned on me, that I’ll be at fault because I’m the one who technically owns her, I brought her into the house, were it not for me we wouldn’t be dealing with Animal Inconvenience. 
And yes I know that’s irrational...I know my brain is exaggerating and none of them really expect an 8 month old kitten to have flawless behavior or blame me for it and as long as I’m keeping her happy and healthy it’s fine...and yet...
I don't know.
Pressure, I guess. A big life change that happened pretty suddenly and it’s gonna take a little while for it to become the new normal...I’ve just gotta hang on until it does, I guess...
anyways...
R.I.P. Harry Pawter, 2005-2014
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(last picture we ever got of him)
Maisie, I will do my best ;_;
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(first picture I ever got of her...which, I am just now realizing, is similar to the last pic of Harry ;n;)
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fimawari · 4 years
Text
Thoughts/theories on White Door (Spoiler Warning)
Ok so after playing this repetitively, I wanted to talk about some theories, some out their and some not so much, and some thoughts on maybe what is going on? Because I'm obcessed with this series.
- I think the White Door is separate from Rusty Lake, though maybe it's just the continuation. As we know Rusty Lake is presumably still there, but it's status is vague. Last time we saw the outside was in Roots, though we know if must be somewhat operational because Laura won the contest. Though the rest of the world seems oblivious to its existence as it takes Dale several trials to find the link. Mr. Crow and Mr. Owl are at Rusty Lake right now, so I don't think the manager is Mr. Owl, even though his computer file starts with "O".
- I think the White Door may be competitors or enemies. They seem to have a different method of extracting memories than Rusty Lake does. They advertise their services and then completely remove the memories for unseen purposes. At Rusty Lake we know they go to feed the lake, and they use dead people usually.
- This is just a thought but it would be kind of a fun scenario where the player or a character had to choose between the White Door or Rusty Lake.
- (More spoilers I'm warning you)
So it's kind of obvious Sarah is legitimately trying to help Bob, though I don't know if this is for selfish purposes or not.
She obviously knows how to operate and "change" memories if you play through her ending, as she erases Laura's existence from his memories. Though once again, whether it was to genuinly help him or not I'm not sure.
If you access the managers emails, it's implied that Sarah is new to the white Door, and is in more of a nurse role. Though it looked like she was involved in the procedure on night 3. It's presumed they failed the extract his memories, and had to retry, so Sarah stepped up, sending an email to the manager to try it herself. However Theo Hoorne sends an e-mail to the manager suspicious of Sarah.
- Theo Hoorne was also murdered sometime closely after or even during the white Door. Who killed him? Sarah would be a main suspect because he was on to her. But I also wonder if it was Dale or Bob even. Depending on the time, Bob couldn't have done it till after the 20th when he was able to leave, though I don't know any direct motive he would have against Hoorne, more the agency. However in Hoorne's article he says "Did you know we had a rudimentary in-house email system back in the seventies?" Implying this happened a while ago. The article is still up on the website, despite old footage of him being murdered was found. It couldn't have been too old however. So I wonder if it's possible Dale may have had something to do with it. Some people say they saw Dale in the video but I think it is just a man that looks like him. But if it were, that would say Dale was outside of Rusty Lake right now, either escaped or by choice. Say he did agree to work for Rusty Lake, maybe he's taking out their competitors under the cover of a homicide detective.
- I think there's going to be murders until all five doctors listed website are gone. (I've actually been hanging around the youtube channel waiting for another murder to happen) There's a lot of little tidbits and hints on the website that I'll leave for now while they're still being worked out.
(It's also shown in the games files secret ending - which I don't think has been released yet - That she willingly releases all the captive people in the basement and takes them to freedom.)
So while Sarah's motives seem unknown, I definitely believe she has had some prior knowledge of corrupted souls and such, and that she is against the White Door, working against them from the inside. (The manager emailed her specifically not to release or let the basement people escape)
- An odd headcanon I'm working to is that I wonder if Sarah is working for Rusty Lake? Or perhaps against both establishments. Though it would be kind of neat if she was some sort of inside agent, though I don't know why Rusty Lake would need that besides competition (if there is any?) Between the White Door.
- As of motives for Sarah, she could just be a genuinly nice person wanting to help and free people. Some people speculate she may have an interest in Bob, so she erases the memories of Laura to help him, but also leave focus on her? Though I doubt this for some reason. She doesn't seem to be acting selfishly as she did go out of her way to free all those people. There must be a reason.
I also wondered if she may be a child of Laura and Bob in the future? As she does share some similarities with both of them, but that just may be the art style and unintentional. In Paradox we see a timeline where Laura lives, and same with the white Door, where Bob lives.
- Dale says he will "find her" meaning Laura. So either he means he will find her body, or he will find her alive. Dale is also being chosen slowly by Mr. Owl as his heir to the lake, though idk if he's going to go along with that or not.
Idk these are just my mad rambling speculations, I'd love to hear everyone else's theories, because I love this game and everything about it.
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shawnpetermuffins · 5 years
Text
Pictured with You (vi.)
A/n: I wrote and rewrote this because it wasn't good enough. It's short and still not that great, actually. Also, in sorry for the ending
Summary: idk what Shawn and y/n expected to happen when they end up in his room together after a night out.
Warnings: it's like maybe 5% smut, also angst but like what else is new (and it might only be angsty to me tbh)
Word count: 2k
***
My legs are draped over his on the bed while we laugh about absolutely nothing. It's clear we're both still trying to sober up, but we've also come a long way from how gone we were at the bar. He's playing with my fingers while we talk and I can't help but lean into him, resting my head against his shoulder.
"Tired?" He asks and I only grunt in response, my eyes already fluttering shut.
"I should go back to my room." I whisper, afraid of breaking the comfortable silence.
"Stay," Shawn pleads.
"Come on, rockstar. You know I can't."
"You can have whichever side of the bed you want. Just… please stay?"
I wish it took more convincing, I really did. But I mutter out an okay and now we're under his covers and even though he gave me the choice of either side, I make my way to where he lays, cuddling into him, my head on his chest. His hand is combing gently through my hair, lulling me deeper and deeper into sleep. But then his hand strays from my head and I feel the ghost of his fingertips playing with and pushing at the hem of my shirt. And then they graze my skin, the warmth of his hand causing me to shudder at the contrast between his core temperature and mine. He's not doing it to get anything, though. I know because his movements are lazy, there's no underlying intentions, he's simply just doing it because he can. And I don't stop him because it feels good, his rough, calloused skin against my smooth hip.
"You keep doing that and I just might kiss you," I mutter into his chest, toying with his necklace.
"Then I guess I'll keep going," he says, amused. I hum as his whole hand slips under my shirt, rubbing gently over my tummy, his pinky slipping into my belly button and back out with a small laugh eliciting both of our mouths. I sit up, my hand resting on his chest.
"Shawn," I stop. I know I should tell him no. Because I know this shouldn't happen. That it'll change everything for us and I don't want that. But my want - my need - for the intimate contact overpowers my better judgement and before I give myself the chance to second guess myself, I lean in and I kiss him for the third time tonight. And it somehow feels even better now, when we're both just here, completely vulnerable in front of each other. There's no one watching us this time, betting on how far we'll go.
It's soft, my hand still holding its place on his chest, but both of his cradle my face, deepening the kiss. And before I know it, I'm on top of him, my lips trailing down his jaw and neck. "Is this a bad idea?" I ask when our lips connect again.
"This," he takes in a sharp breath when I pull on his bottom lip with my teeth. "This is the best idea we've ever had."
---
I wake up around 6:30, the sun still hidden by the night for another few minutes. My clothes is strewn across the room in messy piles. My bra near the chair by the window, leggings beside the bed, my shirt is god knows where, but that doesn't totally matter because Shawn's is adorning my body right now (and it seems to be the only thing on me besides his heavy arm.)
I struggle a little to get out from under his grasp, but manage to do so with only a small fight to keep him asleep. A couple protests leave his parted lips, but he stays asleep, soft snores following his words. I let out a deep breath and search the still semi dark room for my abandoned clothes. My head pounds as I try to slip on my bra, and I almost topple over when I pull up one leg to shimmy into my panties. I'm as quiet as I possibly can be as I pull my phone and room key from the bedside table. I'm about to just leave the room without a second thought, but I stop short and turn back to the beautiful boy's sleeping figure.
Shawn's on his stomach, arm outstretched as if my body were still under it, face turned to the side I was occupying. I press the softest kiss to his temple and murmur, "It was fun, rockstar," before taking my stuff and exiting the room.
I lean against the door once it's latched shut and sink to the ground. "Jesus, fuck," I mumble into my knees. I had sex. But I didn't just have sex. I had sex with Shawn! My friend! My employer! I feel gross, like I ran a few miles in the sticky, humid air. My hair is matted to my forehead and neck, and I just overall feel dirty. So I somehow manage to pull myself off the ground and into the restroom. The rush of the water hitting the porcelain tub echoes through the brightly lit room and while I wait for it to warm, I strip to nothing. I dare myself to look in the mirror, even for just a second and when I do, I'm nearly thrown back by my reflection.
My face is flushed, but that's no doubt from how I was laying in his bed. But my hair, it definitely looks out of place, like it was being pulling one minute and caressed the next - which I was. My eyes travel further down, noticing the ungodly amount of hickies that coat my body - on my neck and shoulders, around my breasts, an entire line of bite marks trail down my stomach, and just when I think that's all of them, I see the ones on the insides of my thighs and my face is red for a whole different reason.
The memory of last night comes in a little fuzzy, and I may not remember everything, but I do remember this:
He works so well with his fingers. They start by tracing delicate patterns on my chest and down my stomach, but when they get to where they're most wanted - most needed - they become a little less gentle. They leave me arching my back as they curl inside me and I have to bite my tongue to keep from crying out. But it's not just his hands that are making me feel things I never have before.
His tongue. Oh my heavens, his tongue is magic. Shawn starts slow, cautious, still giving me time to tell him no. But I would never. And after a few minutes of agonizingly slow kitten licks, he becomes bolder, licking and sucking and inching his fingers in and out of me at an ungodly, borderline pornographic pace, causing equally as erotic moans to leave both our mouths. And I know I shouldn't look down, but I do it anyway and what a sight that is. I swear I could come undone just by looking at him. He's laser focused on pleasing me, his mouth and fingers working nonstop all while he holds my body down with just one hand, and stares up at me with those dark, lust filled eyes.
The Shawn I've always known is gone and replaced by this hungry, ravenous man who lays between my legs. But in the midst of our drawn out moans I hear, "You're just so fucking pretty like this," and I know he's still here. But those words are also enough to send me over the edge. I'm yanking on his perfect curls as he helps me ride out my high. He pulls away with a final lick and I whimper at the lost contact. He's smug though, a smirk transforming his face as he moves off the bed.
"Where are you going?" I ask, still breathless.
He chuckles, pulling something out of his bag. "Can never be too careful, mea vita." He comes back, condom between his fingers and I sit up, tugging at his boxers before he can get back on the bed.
I sigh and let the still warm water pound against my aching muscles. Last night was… it was everything I ever thought it would be and more. But it can't happen again. Not on tour, not back home. It was a mistake. But if I could go back in time, I know I'd make it over and over again.
---
I'm just finishing off my makeup when there's a knock on my door. I pray it's not Shawn, but when I see who is behind the door, I take it back.
"Connor, what do you want?"
He holds up his phone, a white flag lighting up his screen. "I'm calling a truce." He shrugs with a lopsided smile, "I miss my best friend."
I can't help but smile at his proclamation. "Okay," I pull him into my room, wrapping my arms around his waist. "I miss you too." I say as the door slams shut.
"So," he plops himself down on my still made bed. "Can we talk about last night?"
I cringe, "you came in here with a truce. Don't go back on your bullshit."
I just want to know that you're being careful. Okay? With the way things were escalating with you and Shawn at the bar, you can't expect me not to be a little curious."
"Con, please."
"That was one hell of a kiss you two had. And god knows what happened in that bathroom, and I don't- I don't want to know any details. It's just that, if something did happen, I want you to feel okay enough to tell me."
I claw at his shoulders while he continues to push his way into me, hitting somehow deeper with each thrust. I'm breathless as I let out moan after moan into his sweaty skin. "You feel so good," he swallows an oncoming moan from my throat when his tongue slips effortlessly into my mouth.
I sigh, "nothing happened," I lie, brushing out my tangled hair.
He didn't say anything for a long time, but I know he was processing it. He didn't believe me. "Okay," he mutters finally. "Can we go down for breakfast?"
I hum out an affirmation. "I just need to get my shoes."
Everyone's already downstairs, except for one. Shawn. And by the constant buzzing of my phone, I can guess why he's not with us all now. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and see the four texts that light up my screen.
Y/n where'd you go???
Why aren't you answering your phone?!
Y/N!!
Can we talk over breakfast pls?
"Everything okay?" Connor asks from across the table and I startle at the sound of his voice, not having realized that he was watching me.
"Yeah, no. Everything's fine. It's just Mom checking in. Guess I haven't been good at keeping her up to date with my whereabouts." I shove my phone in my back pocket, ignore the new wave of messages. If he really needed to talk, he'd come find me.
---
When he does finally come down, it's clear he isn't too thrilled, and I wish I could bring myself to go talk to him. Tell him that even though last night was perfect, being tangled in the sheets with him, it couldn't happen again. I don't get the chance though. Because not even two minutes later we're being ushered outside to the two waiting vans.
The crew is piling in, squeezing into seats, to head to yet another talk show performance, and Shawn visibly frowns when he sees I've taken my seat near the window. The seat next to me would be his on any other day, but today's it's taken by Connor.
We manage to get a few blocks from the hotel before my phone buzzes in my pocket again. I sigh and pull it out, reading the text over and over again.
Why are you avoiding me?
I'm not confident enough in my answer, so I tuck my phone away without a response.
***
Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste @dino-16-avocado @sleepybesson
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softmakoharus · 5 years
Text
makoharu story - makoto’s parents
the whole tachibana family probably loves chocolate. imagine makoto's parents met as customers in a pastry shop their first year at university. as usual, mr. tachibana orders a piece of chocolate cake at the counter to take home. but this time, it's the last piece mrs. tachibana (idk what else to call her asdjkf) is a few people behind him in line. she had an awful day and really wanted that cake, so she runs out the door. mrs. t: that chocolate cake! you have to give it to me! it's the polite thing to do! mr. t: *laughs* well... ok then. mrs. t: ehh? just like that? mr. t: if you want it badly enough to chase after a stranger, you probably need it more than i do. she feels horrible. this guy is so nice and she can't take advantage of that. mrs. t: i'm so sorry! that was... i'm sorry! please enjoy the cake. mr. t: ah, maybe we could share it. she laughs and agrees. they take a seat on a nearby bench, setting the cake between them. he asks about her day, and she vents about everything. she doesn't even realize it, but he only has one bite of the cake and lets her eat the rest. they talk some more and discover they're both first year students at the same university. time passes quickly; it starts to get dark, so he walks her back to her apartment, conveniently on the way to the train station. she suggests they get together to study on the weekend. after that initial meeting, they become good friends. on a day when mr. tachibana needs it most, she shows up at his apartment with a pan of homemade brownies. it's a special recipe that's been in her family for generations. mrs. t: i thought you might need these. mr. t: *smiles* they look amazing. please, come in. they sit and finish off nearly the entire pan while watching movies and chatting about nothing in particular. a few months later, she gives him valentine's day chocolates and asks him to be her boyfriend. of course he accepts. many years later, she gives haru the recipe for those brownies, thinking that one day he might surprise makoto with them. haru wants to wait until makoto really needs them, and during the fall of their first year at university, he gets the perfect opportunity.
they're in the library studying when haru notices makoto resting his chin on his hand, fast asleep. he reaches over and pokes his cheek. m: ah! haru? h: you were sleeping. m: i wasn't. h: your eyes were closed. m: i was... blinking. h: that takes you five minutes? m: sometimes!! h: your breathing was slowed, too. m: because i was concentrating so hard on my studies. h: you were also starting to drool. m: *wipes his mouth* shouldn't you be doing your homework?! h: let's go back to my apartment. m: eh? h: we should have just gone there in the first place. on the train ride back to haru's apartment, makoto once again falls asleep. he suddenly feels someone gently shaking his shoulder and sees haru holding out his hand. h: we're here. m: ah, thanks, haru. *he takes his hand* h: you were blinking again. m: *laughs* shut up. when they're back inside haru's apartment, haru doesn't waste any time. if makoto falls asleep now, he won't have the heart to wake him up, so he immediately uncovers the pan sitting on his kitchen counter and starts cutting a brownie. m: you made brownies?? h: i did. sit down. makoto's entirely confused, but he does as he's told. h: sorry, i didn't have a chance to buy more milk. m: it's fine! *takes a bite* haru... *takes another* are these my mom's brownies? h: you can really tell? m: of course! they're the best! ah, it's perfect. h: *smiles* good. m: you don't want any? h: i'll try a bite of yours. makoto cuts a piece and holds out the fork to haru's mouth. he blushes, realizing that haru probably meant for him to just hand over the fork. he blushes even more when he notices haru blushing, but he takes the bite anyway. h: they're good. m: you just felt like making them? h: ... m: haru? h: when you texted me back this morning. you were... kind of short with me. m: ah, i'm sorry. h: no, it's ok. i figured something must be wrong. m: *smiles* nothing's wrong. h: don't lie. you're exhausted. m: eh? h: you didn't want to swim this morning, which is fine. and then at the library, and the train... even now your eyes are half shut. m: *opening his eyes wide* they aren't!! h: you're sleeping here tonight. m: ok... h: and resting all day tomorrow. m: but you have your match in the morning! and i barely got any homework done today. and there were-- h: you're banned from my matches. m: eh?! h: at least tomorrow's... m: but-- h: makoto. i appreciate you supporting me. but you're doing too much. you need to rest. m: this week was really busy, that's all. h: i know. so turn off your phone alarm and sleep. i'll leave you some food. and of course, there are brownies. m: *smiles* haru... thank you. thanks for looking out for me. h: of course... m: i'll get out the futon. h: just take the bed. haru grabs makoto's empty plate and heads back to the kitchen. m: you mean share the bed with you? haru stumbles and drops the plate, the fork clanging loudly against the floor. idiot. haru's not sure if he means makoto or himself. he crouches down as makoto rushes over. h: nothing broke, so it's fine. m: *crouches down* are you sure? haru looks up to answer him and it's only then that he realizes how close makoto's face is to his own. those big green eyes stare back at him, expecting an answer to the simple question. haru looks away quickly. h: no, it's fine, really. look, perfectly intact. they stand up, and makoto follows haru to the sink, leaning on the counter while haru runs the plate under the faucet. h: your mom told you the story, right? about how she and your dad met. m: the chocolate cake! h: ah. m: she told you about that? h: a few days before we left for tokyo. i came by, but you were doing some shopping for her. m: oh, i remember! it started pouring, so i was stuck at the store for a bit until it stopped. when i got home, mom had made brownies. h: *smiles* she and i made them. that's when she taught me. did she tell you about them? m: you mean how the recipe has been in our family for so long? h: about how she made them for your dad. m: oh... she never mentioned that. what did she say? h: your dad told me, actually. the day she brought him those brownies, that's when he started falling in love with her. m: *smiles* really? h: mm. he knew she'd always be there when he needed her most, and he took it as a sort of invitation to fall in love with her. well, that's what he said. haru feels his cheeks start to redden and fights every urge to turn away from makoto, managing instead to face him. by the time he realizes what makoto's doing, he can only smile a little before their lips press together. m: if the brownies you made were also an invitation then... i'm sorry, haru, but i started falling in love with you a while ago. h: *smiles* me too. m: and haru... h: hm? m: i think that plate you've been washing is clean. *laughs* h: oh. right. haru had completely forgotten about the plate he was scrubbing in the sink. he shuts off the water and dries his hands. although it's still early, makoto takes haru up on his encouragement to go to sleep and lies down. and at makoto's request, haru lies down beside him. m: text me right away tomorrow after your match, ok? h: sure, but why? m: i want to know how you did! h: there's doubt that i'll do anything but win? m: *laughs* so confident. h: i won't let you down. m: nothing you do would ever let me down. haru leans forward and kisses makoto again. it's better this time; his hand is free to wander. he cups makoto's cheek, letting it rest there a moment before moving it up into his hair. he can't remember the last time he felt makoto's hair, but he's surprised by its softness. m: you know... that brownie recipe has always been kept strictly in the family. h: *smiles* oh? and your mom gave it to me? m: *smiles* of course. h: i'll have to tell her i made them for you. m: and that we kissed. h: leave that part out. m: *laughs* it's important! h: fine. now stop fighting sleep and close your eyes. m: ok, ok. h: we'll have time tomorrow. m: mm. and every day after that. h: *smiles* ah. goodnight. when there's no response, haru places a kiss on makoto's cheek. m: hold my hand. h: i thought you were asleep! m: *laughs* not yet. h: then why didn't you respond? m: i wanted to know what you might do if you thought i was sleeping. h: you... m: *laughs* sorry. ok, goodnight. haru slides his hand into makoto's, interlacing their fingers. m: thanks, haru-chan. h: *smiles* goodnight.
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vaguely-concerned · 4 years
Text
I played Death of the Outsider finally and I have some Feelings about it
and most of them not very positive. nice stuff first tho!
THINGS I LIKED:
- billie is such a good character. still new to her old self and slightly tender from coming out of the protective shell of lies that was meagan foster, full of old scars and doubts and bitterness but trying for something better, something kinder even though she still doesn’t quite understand what she’s walking towards -- the genuine care and tenderness in her voice when she talks to daud or thinks about deidre. I love her.
all that and she effortlessly IS also the queer disabled woc the gamer bros refuse to believe could possibly exist. exquisite. 
- the idea of ‘killing’ the outsider is compelling, but it’s the sort of idea that needs a full length game to support it and its implications. cool idea, completely wrong execution.
- saying that: I love that the injustice of the outsider’s creation being righted is only made possible by a long unbroken line of mercy and kindness. daud saved billie from the streets, corvo spared daud, daud saved emily and spared billie after her betrayal, billie tried to save aramis stilton and became entangled in the void, emily spared billie, billie took this job in the first place partly because she loves her dad daud and wants him to find peace. that idea is so beautiful that I wish the rest of the narrative was strong enough to hold it up lol.
there’s also something going on here with other people holding on to the important pieces of you -- that billie is ‘all that is left’ of daud after he’s dead. once he saved a child from true loneliness and gave her a purpose, made her feel seen again, gave her the closest thing she had to a home, and when he’s completely lost himself in the void... that kindness is still alive in billie, and she helps him find his way. again that is really touching and thoughtful and plays wonderfully into the chaos system in these games thematically! too bad about all the stilted dialogue and characterization messes and uh. everything else. 
- most of all I love how clear it is that billie and daud love each other. it’s a quiet love that has nothing to prove anymore, it’s survived all the blood and the ugliness and everything they’ve done to each other and to the world, a love with no demands left. it’s not the sort of love you usually see, in all its unsentimentality, but it’s real. when daud tells her he’s proud of her and trusts her no matter what she chooses to do, you feel how much he means it. (making his insistence on trying to make her choice for her all the weirder -- see my long rant of lamentation about his characterization in doto below lol)
there’s something about daud’s undramatic yet complete acceptance of and respect for billie that... I didn’t know I needed this, but it was a nice gift nonetheless haha, thank you. (it’s similar to how good it feels in D2 when you realize corvo just likes emily a lot as a person, even aside from her being his daughter. a good series for father & daughter stories)
- this carries over from D2, but I think the journal/log entries are better written and more insightful than the stuff out in the world.  
- it cannot be overstated how much the gameplay loop of these games is just... pure crack cocaine for my brain haha, very few things give me this specific kind of brain tingle. I love the sound of looting and I love the art style and ambiance and I love planning out a strategy after finding all the options and I love never being spotted or killing anyone and I love the puzzle elements they put into exploration sections and I love the feeling of how you move through the environment. it’s one of the few games where I routinely get so into it I end up with a crick in the neck because I’ve been so focused for so long and never noticed I’ve been sitting in a way that makes my entire spine hate me. I needed something to get me through the last few days and it did deliver that, at least. karnaca is pretty enough that I didn’t even mind that most of the levels were recycled from D2 either. 
- I’m not quite sure whether I understood this right but there’s a woman standing behind daud in the void -- I wonder if that is actually his mother and he’s been so close this whole time? at first I thought maybe it was jessamine but god no I hope she’s finally at peace after All That Nonsense, she shouldn’t have to hang around there anymore. there’s also a figure near him I could swear was corvo with his mask on, but he’s not dead canonically so that would make very little sense. oh well I’ll take my feels where I can get them even if I have to make them up wholesale  
- the bankheist was cool as fuuuuuck, that and the emotional impact of daud dying was sadly the height of this game for me, after that it all went mediocre real quick     
- paul nakauchi as shan yun was, as I have said before, a blast. ‘ugh I cannot continue my throat is as raw as a plucked pheasant’ fsdkfhlsadjkhfas
- daud’s funeral is genuinely touching. she gave him the entirety of her old life for a sendoff, battered and worn and dear as they both were. someone hold me 
THINGS I  H A T E D:
- the stuff they did with daud’s characterization. I am so unreasonably angry over this haha, the more I think about it the more I hate it. I think there are paths you could go with his ACTUAL character to make this work, but this was not it. I’ve said this before, but his most iconic, most defining scene is him surrendering himself to corvo’s judgement without justifying himself or deflecting the blame for any of what he’s done. this isn’t even regression in his character, it’s just.. a different character altogether. they could have gone for the angle that delilah almost managed to end the world b/c daud showed mercy and that’s the reason he’s moved to action, I think that might be a more compelling motivation for him at least. OR have him be more conflicted about how to do things -- violence is still the only tool he knows how to use but it’s not what he wants to or even can be anymore and the conflict troubles him, ‘His hands do violence, but there is a different dream in his heart’. or even use a different character for the ‘kill kill kill’ angle, he didn’t need to be here for this dlc at all.   
also, just on a purely practical level... for all his flaws and longstanding moral shortsightedness daud is not a stupid man. why the FCK would he be so sure that killing the outsider will fix anything? if I, dumbass extraordinaire, could within half a minute wonder if maybe something even worse would take the outsider’s place if you removed him... why does that never occur to the Knife of Dunwall tm, a man about Void for like half a century or whatever?? ugh fuck this, I’m having a hard time explaining exactly why it all feels weird and wrong to me, but know that it does and that I Do Not Like It lol. I feel cheated out of something important I thought I had.  
- again, this should have been a full game. (I think it is sold as one already, but it just hm isn’t) there’s way too much shit of literal cosmic importance for the game’s universe being picked up here for something this short to cover. save this HUGE idea for a rainy day should you ever want to do another game in the series and do something else with the dlc, honestly. 
- god but the outsider is insufferable in this. I don’t know what happened, but by the end I was like ‘*thoughtfully strokes chin* maybe daud has a point billie keep that knife handy’. he’s annoying and boring, which is wild to me because he was always a lot of fun in the other games.
for real tho I don’t know if this is just my atheist-but-still-angry-at-god-somehow??? talking, but daud HAS a point. people are responsible for their own actions, but the outsider didn’t have to do any of what he did either. he could have chosen to be bored through the centuries instead of seeing what people would do if you gave them such ~*morally neutral*~ abilities as y’know summoning a bunch of rats to eat other people. the game wants me to buy the ‘but really this black eyed boy is woobie tho uwu’ so badly and no I’m not buying that give me my refund I want my chaotic neutral bastard back pls. I’d probably be more inclined to want to help him like that. where’s his salt gone, arkane. if you didn’t want him to be edgy why did you make him look like that.  
- this is the lamest possible version of the outsider’s backstory lol, it feels like the pearl clutching panic about satanic cults back in the day all over. listen if it’s this easy to make a god the thrill is sort of taken out of it, if these randos did it anyone could. also how the fuck are they just normal-ish people anyway? why do they follow modern fashions? haven’t they been hanging around for thousands of years, haven’t their culture changed in any meaningful way? (I realize these aren’t the same guys as back in the day but it’s just weird) why do they speak a language billie and the player can understand? why did anyone think ‘idk some cultists no one’s ever heard of before with no thematic significance whatsoever’ was the way to go world building wise? they’ve taken all the unknowable eldritchness out of the eldritch horror and we’re all poorer for it now haha 
relatedly the last level is... just not very good. you come down from the awesome bank heist and then there’s... whatever the fuck this was.
- while I do like billie finding daud in the void and him remembering her I hate that he goes out still full of self loathing and rage when you talk him into the nonlethal option, that he can’t forgive himself or find any sliver of hope or peace. I wish there had been a few more moments for the two of them to come to peace with themselves before he gave the outsider back his name, some real catharsis. as it is I was annoyed when the outsider ‘woke up’ or whatever b/c it felt like he was stealing attention from what I was actually emotionally invested in and not done with.    
they had  n o t  built up billie’s or my sympathy for the outsider well enough either. again this is something I think they could have done if they’d structured things differently, if they’d been more deliberate in making you understand he was basically a child and letting you dwell on it. because there is a parallell there between him and billie, and billie and daud, but I, how do I put this, did not give a fuck  
in short this was really similar to my experience with D2 in that there’s enough good there that it’s all the more painful when it fails to deliver on it again and again, and it ruined things I already liked about this story from the first game (daud’s arc and everything to do with the outsider, mostly). give me some months of denial and hard core headcanon work and I’ll probably be able to live with it
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Battle for Haven
Nanowrimo day 15 Featuring Jak and Torn Dystopian sci-fi idk Jak and Daxter saga, post Jak 3, violence, war, death, etc. Unfinished and unedited
Jak hissed as yet another volley of ordnance fell close to their position, too damn close. He had assumed the Metalhead threat was long gone and had grown complacent. He knew that now, of course, but now was too damn late. The next round was close enough to spray them with hot sand. Torn grunted and hauled himself closer, elbowing Jak in the ribs. 
“Next ridge,” he barked, “there’s a platoon of the bastards. How’d it get this bad, Jak?”
Jak shook his head, reflecting momentarily and wondering how they had allowed the numbers of their greatest enemy to rise once more. The parasitic beings known as the Metalheads were all but gone when Ashelin had taken her proper place as baroness of Haven. Torn was once more head of security, but for the League, a peace-keeping force, rather than one dedicated entirely to a special brand of tyranny. 
They had made close, good ties with the people of Spargus and trade had opened up between them. Both communities were thriving and why not? Had they not earned this? Had they not suffered and bled for this? Were they not still bleeding? Torn kept one arm tucked closely around his midsection indicating that yes, they were indeed still bleeding. 
“We’re gunna fall back to Spargus,” Jak shouted over the cacophony. Nattering away in the distance, the gunfire drew ever closer. Their position was not quite compromised, but if they did not leave now, they never would. “Abandon Haven,” he added, “for now.” 
Torn’s tattooed visage was a mask of frustration, fury, and understanding. He was not a fool and knew when to cut his losses. They had both lost much, this day and on the few weeks preceding this final stand. Ashelin’s blood still likely soaked the commons out front of Haven’s newly-constructed senate building, as if the Metalheads had been waiting, watching for the ideal opportunity to strike.
“Move!” The ugly whistle of a falling shell all but deafened the pair as Jak threw himself on top of Torn and, at the very last moment, transformed into his light form, wings flashing, and a shroud of energy encircling and protecting them. If not for that instinct, they would have both been chunks, at best.  
Torn recovered quickly, regaining the air in his lungs with a gasp. Sand immediately filled his mouth and he spat it to the side, grimacing. He was bruised, but alive. That was more than he could say for a good portion of their troops. No one knew whence the Metalhead’s new strength had come, but they were not holding back.
“We gotta move,” Jak observed in his strange, ethereal voice. White eyes gave off a gentle, eldritch light and sent a shudder of awe down Torn’s spine. Jak’s light eco mutation—Torn was not sure how else to think of it—took almost all the growl out of the young man’s voice and left it serene and gentle. But for its current tone of urgency and the shells falling around them, Torn could have stayed where he was, might even have fallen asleep.
Jak stood and hoisted Torn by the front of his armor, not bothering to ask permission. There simply wasn’t time. He was pleased, at least, to see that the man had finally taken his advice and had begun to clothe himself in more than his light accoutrements, which in general included more leather and rough spun cloth than actual plates. But under this kind of heavy fire, not even his blue-white shield would hold forever. What chance had physical armor? A particularly well-placed round answered his question and the barrier cracked, spidering like glass, from the impact.
The sound of the barrier giving way galvanized Torn into action and he took off, headed toward Spargus and the sizeable barriers the wastelanders had managed to erect at the first signs of trouble. There was one thing to be said for Jak’s scrappy people: they were always prepared. He thought the people of Haven were prepared as well, however, having borrowed a page from Spargus’s book. Evidently, he should have grabbed more than one.
On several occasions, he and the council had sat in long, dolorous meetings regarding Haven security. Torn had brought up the initiative to reinforce the walls and double the guards in the sewers and really any potential, lower entrance to the city. Metalheads were not known for their ability to fly high enough to evade basic perimeter defenses, thankfully, so what was already atop the walls was decided to be good enough. The council gave him that. They did not give him the draft.
“Our forces should remain voluntary!” Once council member had insisted, blustering over a full mustache and an even fuller belly. Torn tried not to judge based on appearances, but this man appeared to be just another fat cat looking to line his wallet and pad his behind. He understood the sentiment, but they simply did not have the luxury of laying about and waiting for an attack.
“Then mandatory two years in,” Torn countered. “Everyone sixteen and up.”
“Sixteen?!” A council member shrieked this in such a melodramatic fashion, Torn nearly laughed. “Surely you’re joking, Commander!”
He bristled. “I was fifteen when I joined the Krimzon Guard.”
This had silenced the council for but a moment before all hell seemed to break loose. Some argued for Torn’s suggestion, one or both of them; most argued against it. He wished they had the luxury of doing that, but after the initial attack and now that everyone knew of the Precursor ruins beneath the city, they had to watch their backs more than ever. Or, rather, they should have been doing that. What they did instead was argue. Now most of them were dead. Arguing had gotten them an early grave and he had lost good people trying to defend the rest of Haven. Yes, a few more pages out of the wastelanders’ book would have done them some good.
More than once, on diplomatic missions to Spargus—or just a social call to its leader—a few of the rough-and-tumble citizens had invited Torn to stay with them, saying he and his tattoos would fit in nicely, that he’d do well in the desert. Had it not been for Ashelin and his responsibilities to Haven, he might very well have taken them up on this offer. Time was not kind, however, and what had happened was in the past, repairable by no one and nothing. He cursed under his breath as he hauled himself into a heavily armored Hellcat, modified here and there and painted blue. Jak vaulted the vehicle gracefully and returned to his normal, non-glowing state as his rear-end landed in the passenger’s seat.
“You good to drive?” Jak’s eyes were bleary, the blue of his irises accentuated by the red of his exhaustion and the bags underneath them. Neither man had slept in what felt like years, though it was probably only a day or two.
“We haven’t got time to switch,” snapped Torn as the vehicle’s engine turned over. He tested the accelerator and, satisfied with its performance, put the pedal to the floor. The vehicle tossed up a significant rooster tail of sand and then, as the rockets gained traction in the dry air, they were off. Jak pushed himself up in his seat and craned his body around to ensure they were, in fact, out of range. When no more volleys landed around them, he settled and turned his attention to his taciturn companion.
“You signaled the retreat an hour ago, Torn; why didn’t you leave then?”
“You know the answer,” said Torn, wishing his pulse would cease its relentless pounding. He was not bleeding heavily and they were well out of danger with a vehicle that, though it was not made to traverse the desert, was moving along at a decent pace, leaving patches of glass in its wake where the terrain forced it upward and the jet downward, into waiting sand. 
Rather than responding verbally, Jak nodded, understanding completely. He did not feel foolish for asking, of course; it was his duty as a friend to be concerned for Torn. They were of a mind in this, intent on fighting to their last breath, but that did not mean they had to be stupid about it. Torn had been covering the retreat. Jak had no doubt several people had stayed behind, refusing to leave, intent on helping their commander. 
He knew they had not made it. 
Jak knew, too, that Torn would inevitably blame himself, if he did not already. This was not a pain borne as a poet might, gnashing his teeth and lamenting his losses. It was something Torn carried in silence, a massive burden slung across proverbially broad shoulders. This was the weight of leadership and if anyone had the right qualities to bear it, in Jak’s estimation, it was Torn. 
They crested a hill and finally, the barriers were in sight. Mounted guns were placed at intervals along the retrofitted Precursor tech shield that ran the entire perimeter. These were automated, people were absolutely on standby, ready and willing to man the towers, should something happen to the auto-turrets. 
Jak felt himself sigh, releasing a breath he had not realized he was holding, at the sight of his home. He kept the sensation of relief to himself, however, as he realized that the closer they drew to Spargus, the farther they were from Haven, smouldering ruins though it was. That place had been Torn’s home. He was born there and Jak guessed he had fully expected to die there, as well. Not on my watch, he thought to himself, sparing a glance at the man in the driver’s seat of the Hellcat. 
The vehicle was sputtering, sand having lodged itself firmly in the intake valves. Here and there, it had crystallized under the extreme heat of the vehicle’s inner workings and the display showed several areas of vulnerability. Torn paid these no mind and instead continued to guide the thing in toward the secondary barrier, the walls of the savage city. 
He knew that if they stalled out, a contingent of Spargus soldiers would come from behind the safety of the walls to assist; Jak was their king, after all. This brought Torn some comfort as the Hellcat sputtered more fervently beneath them. He shifted upward once more and pushed it as hard as he thought it could manage, knowing that a stall would bring them slamming into the ground and skidding through the sand, but also willing to do just about anything to get them as close as possible.
The auto-turrets tracked their position, but Jak had alerted his people to their arrival, likely before coming out to save Torn, and the guns did not open up. He had come a long way from the enraged seventeen-year-old kid who had barreled his way into the underground all those years ago, demanding to see The Shadow. Torn was, in his way, proud of Jak, though he knew he had no right to be. 
It was not until he felt a rough warmth on the back of his right hand that Torn realized he had been lost in thought, completely unaware of his surroundings, save that they had still been going forward and they had not crashed. Jak’s hand closed over Torn’s fist, which was gripping the Hellcat’s gearshift with white knuckles. 
“We’re still here,” Jak said simply. “And as long as we’re here, the fight is, too.”
This time, it was Torn’s turn to nod. He had no words to either affirm or to combat this statement. It was the simple truth of everything and precisely what this conflict boiled down to: whether or not they were willing to take a stand.
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