#《 could've gone in more depth but it was getting long enough as is 》

[tuesdayscanons]

I hopped on the bandwagon even though I probably shouldn't have given how unbalanced this tier list is. (Games that I have no particular ranking for are in as close to chronological order as I can).

Starting with Nostalgia Tier—I haven't replayed these games (at least, not start to finish) since childhood, but I have fond memories of them. They're in chronological order (even though Platinum should be higher than DP for Giratina alone) because my memories are vague and it doesn't feel fair to rank them without having a fresh experience.

I Love It— Though I was initially nervous about pre-ordering it given my regret over buying Sword + DLC, I'm absolutely glad I gave Scarlet a chance. It's one of my favorite Pokémon games of all time—having the freedom to roam around, compelling characters that give me gender envy, a prehistoric motorcycle lizard who is my best friend...there's so much to love about it. Even if there's stuff I miss (like Pokémon Contests or Amie/Refresh), it doesn't feel as noticeably absent as other games. There's even mini-games in Scarlet, which I wasn't expecting—as in, mini-games you can do after post-game. It's no Pokéathelon, but I'm glad there's at least something there.

BDSP gets its own tier because I have complicated feelings about it. Do I wish I had something more, especially given my nostalgia for HGSS? Yes. Did I get some enjoyment out of it anyway, despite its flaws? Also yes. The tier is only so close to the top because I wanted it near Nostalgia tier, but it's not directly below it since I can't justify placing it higher than Scarlet.

If you asked me in 2017, Sun/Moon would be in "I Love It". Upon replaying it, the game was more of a slog than I remembered it being. I had to wait, like, an hour before I could even buy glasses! Scarlet gave me glasses for free! I'm still fond of the Sun/Moon characters, but I do not want to go through that tutorial again. X/Y is below it because I haven't gotten to play it until recently (went straight to Sun/Moon when I got my 3DS and getting X/Y wasn't a high priority). I moreso like the idea of what the game could've been than the game itself. I really like Amie too (which I found out about through Alpha Sapphire) and could totally see myself returning to the game just for Amie.

Alpha Sapphire is neutral for now because I have played it a little, but don't really remember anything from the playthrough. I could see myself potentially liking it.

Sword/Shield has some interesting character designs/town designs, but it felt like a slog to get through. I was amazed when I first started playing because I hadn't seen an "HD" Pokémon game before, though that novelty wore off quickly. I don't really appreciate being chased by Pokémon more than twice my current level either.

LGPE seems like fun—I was considering getting it instead of Sword in 2021, but I thought it would've been better to play the new gen instead. I'm disappointed I missed out on an opportunity to ride on a Shiny Charizard. Seems childish, but the nostalgic factor (I loved the anime) is appealing for me.

Then there's the games I wasn't old enough to experience upon release—not sure if I'll play any of them (especially when some of them already have remakes that I currently own). I own a Ruby cartridge, but nothing to use it with.

USUM isn't appealing to me because I already played SM. The Ultra whatevers aren't worth paying $30-$40 for the same game with an even longer tutorial. As for Legends, it doesn't seem to have a lot going on tbh. Seeing PLA stans constantly shove it down other people's throats and act as if it's objectively superior to every mainline game completely turns me off from it. Not to mention, I already felt anxious in the Sword wild area. Having wild Pokémon attack me would make my anxiety worse.

[alittlerobin]

Elbert/Kate/Alfons

tags: nsfw; threesomes; double penetration word count: 2.8k

“Ahh, nghh…” Kate buried her face in Elbert’s neck, muffling her moans against his fair skin. It was well past dawn, the sun casting light through the blue curtains of his room. Normally, they would’ve already left the castle, but how was she meant to do anything else when she awoke next to him? That fine blond hair that never looked out of place now messed with sleep, his long lashes blinking slowly over well-rested eyes, and the sweet, minimalistic smile that graced his lips as he greeted her. 

It was only meant to be a good morning kiss, light and sweet, and yet… Her nightgown was gone, discarded somewhere on the floor, perhaps alongside the shirt she’d nearly torn off him in her haste.

She straddled his lap, knees flush against his hips as she rode his cock, her fingers tangled in his hair as she took pleasure in messing it up further. 

“Kate… look at me.” 

As if she could ever say no. She tipped her face up, and then her heart was in her throat, her whole body shivering with the vision before her. A flush painted his face, from the bridge of his nose to the tips of his ears, pink and delicate. His lips were kiss-swollen and parted, his breathing heavy as he groaned her name like he owned it. “You’re so beautiful…”

That compliment could still make her laugh. He always said it so sincerely, as if offering a prayer, even though he was the one who caused crowds to gather with his mere presence. How many men and women literally tripped over their own feet for just a glimpse of him, and yet somehow she was the one lucky enough to drown under the weight of his obsessive love?

She crashed her lips against his, drinking in the heat of his tongue and moaning again when his fingers curled over her thighs. He pulled her down onto him as he thrust up, pushing himself further inside, trying to get himself deeper, always deeper, like it was never enough.    

She was so close, thighs quivering as she ground against him, muttering soft pleas against his lips to fill her up and make her his, please, just a little more until—

The latch on the door clicked.  

Kate snapped her head around to look. Elbert’s dark blue gaze cast in the same direction, both staring at the figure that’d just invited himself inside.

"My, my, you both are so very good at staying quiet, I had no idea I’d be interrupting. But I suppose I'd have to ask Roger to verify for me, if I were so inclined.”

The heat coursing through her body flared. She snatched up the bedsheet, bunching it against her bare chest because there was nothing in reach she could chuck at him. "You could've knocked!"

"I did, I assure you.” Alfons smirked, leaning back against the door after shutting it behind him. “Or so I seem to recall. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m mistaken. You two were very late for breakfast and I just wanted to make sure Elbie wasn't forgetting to feed himself yet again. But it seems that he's making more than a meal out of you, my dear."

"...Al." Elbert’s tone was a strained one. Not of malice or anger, but more of conflict. He shifted beneath her and Kate had to bite back a whimper, clenching her walls around his twitching cock.

“Yes, may I be of some assistance?” Alfons’s voice carried all of his usual amusement—with a touch of something more. “You know that I’m always happy to offer a hand, or anything else for that matter, should either of you need.”

No doubt if it were anyone else, Elbert would've covered her up already. And then gently laid her down while he went to gouge their eyes out. But even as Alfons stared at both of them, Elbert only tightened his grip on her thighs, his neatly trimmed nails digging in to leave marks on her skin. His oceanic eyes were dark, the depth in them unwavering. 

She knew that look. That was the look he got when he wanted something. 

From the day she'd met them, it was clear their relationship wasn't normal. And then came every interaction between them, every word exchanged, every gaze, every dangerous game and lingering touch… It wasn’t the relationship of a master and servant, nor one of close friends who’d known each other for years. She’d even wondered if, perhaps years ago, Alfons had insisted to Elbert that he wasn’t beautiful, simply to maintain their balance. Because without Alfons by his side, Elbert would have surely already met his ruin. 

For a while, she'd thought the emotion it stirred inside her was jealousy. But that wasn't quite right. It wasn't a worry of being replaced, of being betrayed, of being cheated. It was a desire for something she didn’t have, for everything that existed between the two of them that she could never replace and would never want to. 

It wasn’t jealousy; it was envy. 

But envy was an emotion more easily alleviated. 

She released the bedsheet and slid her hands up, cradling Elbert’s face to draw his attention back to her. She understood him better now, his wants, his needs, his curse and the darkness that came with it. Not perfectly, and certainly not as well as Alfons, but she was learning… through them both. "Can you be honest with me?"

"Always."

That response, a far cry from her first few weeks at the castle, made her heart flip.

Alfons was a walking temptation, a dangerous idea wrapped in an illusion. There was almost no doubt in her mind that he’d tempted Elbert before, even if she’d yet to gather the courage to ask exactly how far or how often. And then when it came to her, every time Alfons whispered in her ear or swept his fingertips across the nape of her neck, the heat that burned in her belly screamed to be sated. If it weren’t for Elbert, she would’ve already given in. But given that Alfons’s love of Elbert rivaled her own, he would never actually try to steal her away… 

Which made for a simple solution. 

 "You don't want Al to leave, do you?"

“No…” Elbert spoke softly, as if admitting something he felt he shouldn’t. "...I'm greedy."

"I know."

"You're beautiful, Kate. The most beautiful thing in the world. But..."

She smiled, nodding. "So is he."

"Yes. And sometimes I think, if I had you both… maybe I could finally be satisfied."

That wasn’t true. He would never be satisfied, never fulfill the gaping wound left by his curse. But Alfons had never stopped him from trying and, if she wanted him to be happy, neither would she. “I don’t mind.”

From across the room, Alfons cleared his throat. “Excuse me, but am I not invited to this round of negotiations? Is anyone planning to ask me how I feel?”

Elbert frowned, his brows furrowing cutely, but Kate cast Alfons a smile over her shoulder, as sweet as she could manage. “You can always leave.”

“And what fun would that be?”

Alfons crossed the room with the practiced stride of a man who’d done so countless times, and yet when he reached the edge of the bed, he hesitated. 

There was a line there, invisible yet blaring, that would shatter once crossed. Just like dropping a mirror. 

But Elbert was never good at waiting for something he wanted. His fingers hooked into the hem of Alfons’s jacket sleeve, the pad of his thumb brushing against a polished cufflink. “Al…”

“Now, Elbie, we both know you’re not very good at sharing. So what on earth makes you think you can share between two?”

“Because I… I don’t mind sharing with you.”

The triumphant smirk painting Alfons’s handsome face faded for a brief moment, transforming into a soft fondness like that of a slow-blinking kitten, and then he joined them on the bed—a gloved hand taking hold of Kate’s chin and turning her face toward his. 

She’d kissed him before, but not like this, not like—god. His mouth was different from Elbert’s, lips thinner and firmer, but then he sucked on her tongue as his fingers rolled over her breast and she melted all the same. 

Between the three of them, they managed to strip Alfons off his jacket and shirt, his belt buckle clinking against the side of the bed as it fell. Kate hesitated only on his gloves, but then he pressed his mouth to her ear to purr, “Don’t worry, this is already all the fun we can handle,” and stripped those off too. 

Elbert’s hands returned to her thighs, spreading her legs wider as he rocked up, sending spasms through her. A moment later and Alfons’s chest pressed against her back, one of his arms snaking around her waist while his other hand slipped down to find the wetness between her legs, fingertips circling her clit. 

Kate quieted a whimper, throwing her head back against his shoulder. A memory flashed through her mind, of a room and a bed back at the palace, where Alfons had first teased this ill-advised proposal only for her to hastily dismiss it in a fluster. Saying no then had been the right thing to do, mid-mission with her still wearing the queen’s borrowed clothing, but now…? 

His fingers slipped lower, reaching where Elbert’s cock sheathed inside her and stroking against them both. Elbert shuddered under her, his long lashes fluttering as the pretty pink blush coloring his fair skin turned a shade darker. “Kate, I want… kiss me.”

Her eyes flickered momentarily back to Alfons before she leaned her body forward, her chest flush with Elbert’s as she settled her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. It was sweet and unrushed, a maddening contrast to the way he then snapped his hips to plunge deep inside her. She moaned on his tongue and rocked back, startling slightly when she felt a sensation like hard velvet brushing against her lower back. 

Elbert’s hands slid from her thighs to her rear, squeezing her buttocks before spreading them. “Al, come. Join me… Please, she’s greedy here too…” She gasped when he slipped two fingers inside alongside himself, stretching her further. 

“Can the dear little robin handle that much? Normally, you treat her like she’s so fragile.”

The half-sweet, half-mocking of Alfons’s unfairly low voice had her wanting to beg him and slap him at the same time. But then that wicked mouth touched the center of her spine, raining kisses up each vertebrae until he bit a mark into the nape of her neck and pushed the head of his cock inside her while having the gall to mutter, “Pardon my intrusion.”

It was slow, thankfully, or else she might just break between them. Elbert’s nails dug crescents into her skin, keeping her grounded as Alfons sank himself deeper, bit by bit. She moaned, trembling, her eyes shut as ripples of pleasure raced through her. So full, so much fuller than when Elbert fucked her roughly and pushed his fingers inside her alongside his cock, as if he could satisfy his own ravenous desire through her. 

Then, Alfons wrapped his arms around her waist, touching a kiss to the curve of her neck as a soft groan escaped him. “No wonder he’s absolutely obsessed with you.”

She wasn’t any better. If she were, maybe she would’ve had enough sense to object to this, but instead she was dripping wet and unable to stop the moans from spilling out when they both moved inside her. Alfons set the pace for them all and she could feel him smiling each time he kissed her neck and the backs of her shoulders, his slick-soaked fingers rubbing at her clit as if everything else wasn’t already more than enough.

She clung to Elbert, her breaths heavy against his skin, all of her words senseless but pleading. And Elbert, her darling, her beloved—normally so quiet—was panting and groaning along with her. Each push of Alfons’s cock sent her alight and clearly did the same for Elbert, with the way that he arched and tried to seek out more of them both. Greed had never looked more beautiful.  

“Al…”

Elbert reached a hand out for Alfons and Kate saw him take it, pressing his lips to Elbert’s fingertips and then his palm, like a proper servant in reverence of his master. It was so foreign, so out-of-place, and yet so fitting. Like Alfons had finally found something he’d wanted. Kate bit the insides of her cheeks, forcing herself to hold back a laugh. That was certainly something she’d never be able to forget, but she could humor him with that assertion later. 

Instead, she pressed her lips first to Elbert’s, then twisted to kiss Alfons. And when she pulled back, barely breathing, she saw a deep heat swimming in Elbert’s gaze. 

Oh… 

Sometimes, the ferocity with which he wanted things was frightening. Like the first time she’d seen him stride across a room, not caring for the agony his footsteps left in his determined wake, simply to acquire something he’d later carelessly discard. This was… different. This was more. This was how he’d looked at her when he’d gripped her hands and asked how it was he could make her his.  

But this time, his gaze wasn’t trained on her. 

“Al, I want…” He didn’t need to say anymore than that. 

Kate shifted as Alfons leaned in over her shoulder, his lips quirked at the corners.

“Oh? Then show me.” 

Alfons drew nearer to his charge, hovering but a breath away. And Elbert, as he always did, claimed what he wanted. He caught Alfons’s mouth with his own, the kiss demanding, hungry—and gorgeous. She saw the slip of pink tongues and the pull of teeth, and shuddered, biting down onto her lower lip as she came, clenching around both their cocks.

“My, my, is that what you’re into?”

“Don’t,” she gasped, the warning in her tone less effective as her entire body trembled with the pleasure ripping through her, her skin burning red. 

“Why not, if we all enjoy it?” Alfons’s teeth scraped against her ear, his exhales hot and not nearly as even as he likely wanted them to seem. “Will you kiss our dear Elbie for me? Please?”

She did, crying out against his mouth when Alfons thrust with purpose into her over-stimulated body. Elbert took hold of her waist, guiding her movements back on them both, and her moans built, needy and unrestrained, no longer trying nor caring to keep them quiet. The second wave washed over her in minutes and she slumped, no longer sure which name to call out. She heard Alfons swear, pulling out to paint her back while Elbert came in thick spurts across her stomach. 

What a blissful mess…

Her nerves buzzed as she sought a kiss from Elbert’s lips, bubbling when he smiled into it and pulled her closer, wrapping her in his embrace. 

Alfons, however, slipped off the bed away from them. They both watched him vanish into the adjoining bathroom, returning only moments later with a soft, damp, warm cloth to clean their skin of the mess left behind. Then, barely a minute later, he was redressed and presenting the form of a proper attendant, with not a raven-colored lock out of place. 

Kate blinked at him, not out of surprise, but curiosity. “I don’t think either of us would mind if you stayed.” It would take some time and some struggle figuring out, surely, but everything about life in the castle came with complications. And they hadn’t given up yet. 

“Surely, Earl Greetia and his dear robin will be famished. And the food prepared earlier will be cold. I trust the two of you can put yourselves together without getting too off track? Or should I send up one of the maids to ensure no further shenanigans?”

Elbert said nothing, his arms winding tighter around Kate’s waist, like he was making up for the loss of one companion by clinging to the other. He and Alfons were day and night, light and dark, but somehow she could figure out how to be the horizon to bridge them together. 

She laced the fingers of her hands through Elbert’s and offered a smile to the man standing over them both. “Breakfast sounds wonderful. And you’ll join us?”

“Of course. For as long as you’d have me, my dears.”

[jujitto]

𝟥 : 𝟦𝟧 𝖯𝖬 💭 沈泉锐

𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗇 ׂ ۪ 𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄𝗒 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ genre ۪ ׂ ۪angst & 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ cw ۪ ׂ ۪mentions of death of a family member ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ wc ۪ ׂ ۪𝟩𝟨𝟫 ⭒ ۪ ׂ ۪ rq 𝟦 ۪ ׂ ۪ @hannahhbahng

9:34 PM, how long have you been sitting here? You couldn’t help but wonder. The tears streamed down your face, not stopping anytime soon. As much as you wanted to stop crying, you couldn’t. It was pointless. Sitting there lost in thoughts, you couldn’t help but ponder the amount of time that had passed.

How long had you been sitting here alone staring at the photos, the one thing you had left, the one thing you had left of them? You didn’t even get to say goodbye. You couldn’t even remember the last time you saw them. Some part of you still didn’t believe that they were gone, that this was all real. The weight of their absence pressed heavily on your heart, making it ache with every beat. Memories flooded your mind, each one like a bittersweet melody playing in the depths of your soul.

The room around you seemed to blur as your gaze remained fixed on those photographs, capturing moments frozen in time. The smiles, the laughter, the shared experiences – they all felt like distant echoes now. Your fingers brushed over the edges of the images, tracing the contours of their faces as if trying to etch their presence back into reality.

“Y/N?” As the soft voice called your name, you looked up to find Ricky standing at the doorway, concern etched on his face. How could you forget? He was probably searching high and low for you all over the apartment. Your poor boyfriend.

Ricky's eyes met yours, and he took a step closer, his expression a mix of empathy and worry. "Hey," he said gently, his voice a soothing melody that reached the depths of your turmoil. "I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay?"

You tried to offer him a faint smile, but your lips quivered, betraying the façade you were trying to maintain. Ricky walked over and knelt down beside you, his warmth enveloping you like a comforting embrace. He reached out and wiped away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “I-I wish you could’ve met them.” Your words echoed through the quiet room as Ricky smiled, sadly, and yet glad to hear those words from you.

“I wish I could've too.” He says as you look down at the photo in your hand. Wanting to give everything to have them back with you, here with you. Your hand clutched tight to his shirt as he held you close. He held onto you, his embrace a shelter from the pain that was ripping apart your heart. You leaned into him, the scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body comfort that made the ache seem just a little more bearable.

In a world that seemed to be spinning out of control, his arms were the one constant that kept you grounded. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a reassuring presence that brought a sense of stability to your fractured world.

You weren't sure how long you stayed there, but the ache in your chest gradually faded as the minutes passed by. Ricky remained by your side, his presence a source of strength and solace. It was something you couldn't take for granted.

He didn't say much, but then again, he didn't have to. His mere presence was enough to remind you that you weren't alone. That no matter how much it hurt, there were people who cared for you, who would be there for you. That was Ricky for you, your pillar of support, a source of hope in your darkest hour.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ricky pulled away, gently cupping your face in his hands. He gazed at you, his expression filled with so much love and concern, that it brought a lump to your throat.

"It's getting late, we should probably get some rest," he murmured. You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stood up. Ricky wrapped his arm around your shoulders, holding you close. As the two of you left the room, the empty apartment greeted you like a silent tomb, the walls echoing the emptiness that now filled your life.

Ricky stopped and turned towards you, his gaze filled with understanding. "Don't worry," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "We'll get through this. Together."

You nodded, the ache in your chest easing at his words. It may not be the end, but the pain is only temporary. The memory of them will live on forever. You knew that, and deep down, you knew it would be okay, especially with Ricky by your side.

[william-m-lucipher]

RATING A FEW OF MY PUPPETS!

THEY ALL HAVE THEIR UPSIDES AND DOWNSIDES! HERE ARE MY OPINIONS ON A HANDFUL OF 'EM!

SIXER: MASSIVE AMOUNT OF BRAIN SPACE, FILLED WITH COMPLEXITIES! ALSO A GOOD CHUNK OF EMBARRASSING NERD MEMORIES. HIS MIND IS WHERE ALL THE LUXURY WAS!

BODILY EXPERIENCE WAS INTERESTING, HIS EYESIGHT WAS LACKING EVEN WITH THE GLASSES. IT SEEMS HE'D GONE A WHILE WITHOUT RENEWING HIS PRESCRIPTION. SURE, THE GLASSES LESSENED THINGS, BUT YEESH! ONE EYE WAS ALWAYS WORSE THAN THE OTHER, BUT THEY WERE BOTH IN BLURRYTOWN. TALK ABOUT A LACK OF DEPTH PERCEPTION! THE EXTRA FINGERS THOUGH, THEY WERE FUN! AND THAT GUY HAD A DECENT-ISH PAIN TOLERANCE THANKS TO THOSE OLD BOXING LESSONS HE AND HIS BROTHER WERE FORCED TO DO. IT WAS FUN TO TEST THE LIMITS!

A SOLID 8/10, GREAT GUY TO WORK WITH, POSSESSION EXPERIENCE COULD'VE BEEN BETTER THOUGH!

PINE TREE: BRAINWISE, LESS COMPLEXITY, MORE COMEDY, AT LEAST IN MY EYE! HE WAS A SMART KID, SURE, BUT MAN, RERUNS OF HIS LOWLIGHTS WILL KEEP ME ENTERTAINED FOR AGES. IMAGINE AN ACTUALLY FUNNY CRINGE COMPILATION THAT NEVER GETS OLD! THAAAAT'S PINE TREE!

AS FOR THE BODY, BETTER EYESIGHT, BETTER JOINTS, AND THE PAIN TOLERANCE WAS TERRIBLE, WHICH WAS GREAT FOR ME! IT WAS THE FIRST THING I NOTICED WHEN I TOOK THE STRINGS, HAHA! THOUGH BEING SWEATY, SMELLY, AND TICKLISH KINDA RUINED THE DELUXE SUITE FEEL. EH, WHEN DEALING WITH THE HUMAN BODY, THERE'S NO WAY TO HAVE IT ALL, EVER.

7/10, AT LEAST I'VE GOT A LOT TO LAUGH ABOUT.

HIRSCHEY: I THINK IT'S PRETTY OBVIOUS AT THIS POINT THAT I'VE BEEN PULLING THE STRINGS WITH FLANNELBRITCHES FOR A GOOD WHILE NOW. LONG BEFORE HE EVEN SECURED A ROLE WITH THE MOUSE, I'VE BEEN A SUBTLE INFLUENCE!

NOW LISTEN, I'D LOVE TO SPILL EVERYTHING, BUT THIS GUY HAS ALL THE RIGHT CONNECTIONS TO RUIN EVERYTHING IF I MAKE THE WRONG DECISIONS WHILE USING MY OTHER PUPPETS IN THIS REALITY. LET'S JUST SAY, HIS BODY IS MID, BUT HIS MIND ALONE ADDS EXTRA POINTS! I CAN'T EVEN BEGIN TO EXPLAIN, HAHA!

9/10, WHAT A GOOD FRIEND!

BURNSIDES: OH WAIT, I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THIS YET! WINK! HAHA, COME BACK TO THIS POST FOR THE ANSWER ON SMOKEY'S BIGGEST FAN IN A FEW DAYS.

?/10, TO BE ANNOUNCED

EAS-Y: THE ONE I'M CURRENTLY USING! GONE BY SEVERAL DIFFERENT NAMES, BECAUSE THEIR MEAT SUIT IS LITERALLY STUFFED WITH SEVERAL DIFFERENT PEOPLE DUE TO CHILDHOOD TRAUMA, HAHA!! THE HUMAN MIND HAS SOME WEIRD COPING MECHANISMS. E.A.S STANDS FOR THE SILLY NAME FOR THEIR SYSTEM THEY PICKED ONE DAY ON A WHIM.

MY FAVORITE ONE HERE HAS TO BE ZILLARA, WHO I ONCE REFERRED TO AS "T" DURING AN APRIL FOOL'S EVENT ON THE SYSTEM'S ABANDONED ACCOUNT. (IT WAS SHORT FOR THE COLLECTIVE DEADNAME OF THIS VESSEL.) HE'S AN OLD HOST AND AN OLD PAL! Z'S BEEN SO... GENUINELY NICE TO ME FOR ALMOST TEN YEARS NOW. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH HIM?! HAHA!!! Ah... ENOUGH ABOUT JUST ONE GUY, THOUGH, THIS PLACE IS PACKED WITH EM! BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN THEY DON'T HAVE WIGGLE ROOM. THIS MIND IS MORE SPACIOUS THAN PINE TREE AND SIXER'S COMBINED, BUT IT'S ALL BEING USED ON KEEPING FOLKS COMFORTABLE AND GUARDING HARMFUL MEMORIES. LISTEN, I'M NOT SALTY ABOUT THE MEMORY GUARDING. I TOOK A PEEK, AND JEEZ, IT'S DEFINITELY FOR THE BETTER.

ANYWAYS, THIS PLACE IS LAYED OUT LIKE A WHOLE SMALL TOWN! BEST VACATION HOME OUTTA ALL OF 'EM! AS AMAZING AS HIRSCHY'S IS, IT'S BUSY BUSY BUSY EVERYWHERE, ALL THE TIME. PARTIALLY MY FAULT FOR GETTING HIM INTO THE ANIMATION INDUSTRY. SORRY THERE, BUDDY!

THE DOWNSIDE TO IT ALL IS THAT EVEN THOUGH THERE ARE PLENTY WHO LIKE ME HERE, I'VE ALSO GOT A FAIR SHARE OF ENEMIES WHO CALL THEMSELVES "PROTECTORS" AND "GATEKEEPERS." NEVER UNDERESTIMATE THE POWER OF AN ANGRY SECRETARY LADY, LET ME TELL YOU!

BODY WISE, IT'S QUITE THE PAIN BUFFET! BAD JOINTS, MIGRAINES, LOW PAIN TOLERANCE, AND MAN, THE TICS AND SEIZURES! YOU'D THINK GIVEN MY EXPERIENCE WITH BODY SPASMS WHILE PUPPETING PINE TREE, I'D HATE THESE, BUT THIS IS DIFFERENT! IT'S SOME OF THE FUNNIEST PAIN, THE PUNCHLINE HITS YOU OUTTA NOWHERE, SEVERAL TIMES, IN SEVERAL DIFFERENT WAYS!

8.5/10, TALK TO YOUR PROTECTORS AND YOU MIGHT EARN THE FIRST 10, OR AT LEAST A 9.8!!!

IN SUMMARY:

- SIXER'S A DECENT PUPPET, BUT A BETTER ALLY. STILL A SHAME HE NEVER JOINED ME

- PINE TREE IS A PERSONAL COMEDY CLUB!

- HIRSCHEY IS A GREAT PUPPET, AND A POWERFUL ALLY WHO COULD EASILY BECOME MY WORST ENEMY

- I'M UNDER NDA ABOUT GUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE

- EASY HERE IS, WELL, THE EASIEST ONE!!

MAYBE I'LL RATE A FEW MORE SOMETIME, LIKE CHARLES GUITEAU, OR WITH LUCK, YOU!

[tennybird]

I have opinions about TotK. This is your spoiler warning if you haven't played/finished it yet. Also all of this is, once again, just my opinion on it and not a decisive fact! I will probably misremember things!

Anyway.

Okay so basically as someone who got it on release and beat it within a week, I'm a little underwhelmed by the game now that I'm looking back over half a year later.

It's not a terrible game! I'll say that first and foremost. But after waiting so long for it, and trying so hard to not hype myself up for it (failing horribly at that), it feels just a bit... same-y. The story is nice, and it's different. The boss fights and abilities you gain during your travels are nice. Everything else, though...

I like the map having stayed similar, with enough changes that I have to relearn some areas. The Depths are really fucking cool, and figuring out on my own that they're a negative of the overworld was incredible! But the sky islands were a little disappointing, I think. When we were told we'd be in the sky a lot, I thought there'd be more large islands like the tutorial one that you could walk around on. More references to Skyward Sword, too. It feels to me that they put more love into the Depths than the sky, in a way.

I like the main story. Figuring out Zelda was the Light Dragon (but not really believing it until the final Tears), and that she'd essentially spent thousands and thousands of years trapped inside herself, was AWESOME. Every cutscene involving her as the Light Dragon hit me hard, and I felt genuine sorrow everytime I saw her floating around the sky.

...That being said, I DO wish we could have a game where you get to actually travel with her. I WANT her to tell me about the minor lore of the world! I want to know about the various flora and fauna, and I want her to talk about Hyrule's history! Zelda is part of the royal family, and I'd imagine that part of her studies pre-BotW she'd have to learn about the history of her family (especially because of the importance of the Goddess' blood...). With how pre-BotW went between her and her powers, and her and her father, I'd imagine she'd make it a point to learn more about their history that ISN'T just the prophecy.

I, personally, did not like most of the temple boss fights. I can't really explain much of why- except for Queen Gibdo. I HATED Queen Gibdo because of all the smaller Gibdo chasing you, trying to chase down Riju for her power... It was a lot of things stacked on each other, and simply not my thing. Colgera was an absolute favorite however! The boss theme is AWESOME, the mechanics of being in the air and having to watch for projectiles, as well as crashing through the ice sheets to take it down? VERY, VERY FUN. Climbing through the sky just to get to the temple itself was one of my favorite experiences. Going up and up and up, and finally reaching the top where you break out above the storm clouds and see clear skies...

A thing that bothers me about the temples is that the cutscene at the end, where the ancient Sages gifts their powers to the new ones... I feel like they could've spent a little more time making them different, even if that meant more time in development. I would be okay with that! I think games should be in development longer in order to produce a good, finished product! Anyway.

The fight with Ganondorf was fun for me. I get SUPER immersed in it, so it was a fearful moment when I thought I'd beaten him, only to see his health bar fill again... and then go offscreen. And the DEMON DRAGON FIGHT? Holy SHIT.

I just wish there was more... substance to the game, I guess? It feels weird saying that. There are more things to do, but it's missing something I can't name. Something BotW had, but is now gone. I like TotK, like I said. It's clearly had love put into it, and I'm glad the developers spent more time on getting it as close to the perfect image they wanted as they could. Maybe it's just cause I've spent more time with BotW (over 300 hours), but I think I'm a little biased towards it. Maybe I'm just getting older and grumpier about vidya games, too. Who knows!

If you read all this, cool! I will reiterate that this is simply my view on it! If your view is different, good!! I'm happy to know there are people out there who enjoy it more than I did. Or if you hate it more than I do, maybe you have other things you want to point out about it that I missed.

[occulthours]

out of curiosity, are you a hosie or a hizzie? you're pretty loud about your dislike for handon, but i rarely see you post either hosie or hizzie.

Honestly, I had to think hard to answer this because I really did enjoy aspects of both ships. Short answer, I like both but don't love either. If I had to choose I would likely say Hizzie.

With Hosie I feel like they lacked a lot of the depth despite them being the most popular ship in the show. Ironically enough, they followed in KC's footsteps in that sense. They never really had enough build-up for them to start a relationship at any point in the show and it didn't help that the writers seemingly put a ban on them in s3. After being called out for queerbaiting the audience they just decided to completely cut Hope and Josie off from each other, even in situations that would've called for them to interact (s2 literally ended with them having an episode heavily centric on their dynamic, yet there was no follow up in s3?).

Their dynamic for the most part bored me, even as someone who enjoys the friends-to-lovers trope. Often times their scenes felt a bit empty, which definitely could’ve been intentional on the writers part to dissuade people from shipping them to be fair! They just didn’t get enough content for me to fully jump on board. I do think that out of Hope's popular ships, they had the best chemistry. They felt very natural in the scenes they shared and could've been great in canon. Had DRR and Kaylee been given the chance, Hosie would’ve been one of the few canon Legacies ships that had real romantic chemistry.

Hope and Lizzie’s relationship very clearly the star of the show. The best elements of the show were jumpstarted by their relationship (their rivals-to-friends era in s1, their hilarious scenes in s2 and 3, and their tribrid/heretic, sirebond, and enemies era in s4). The writers put more effort into Hizzie than any other aspect of the show, including Hope and Lizzie's canon relationships with their boring boyfriends. Typically, Hizzie is the thing the Legacies writers are praised for the most, and the praise is deserved.

Based on the writing alone Hizzie would've gone down as one of my favorite TVDU ships, maybe even one of my favorite ships period. But I don’t think DRR and Jenny have much romantic chemistry. Very close friends and platonic soulmates, yes. Girlfriends... I'd have to actually see it to believe it. They had the potential to start something, especially in season 4, but I’m not sure how it would feel to actually watch them have romantic scene.

It’s hard to say which I'd rather have been canon because of this. I can't see how Hope and Josie’s relationship being entertaining to watch (assuming that I can't go back and rewrite their relationship) and unless DRR and Jenny were specifically toning down whatever romantic chemistry they may have, I can't see myself rooting for them to kiss on screen. If I absolutely had to choose? Before s4 I would’ve said Hizzie by a long shot, but s4 gave Hosie an edge (I love ships where one or both of them are obsessively down bad and s4 Josie fit that to a T. Josie caring more about the girl that beat her father nearly to death, threatened to kill her mother, and actually killed her sister? EAT EAT EAT!), but also the sirebond gave Hizzie a bit of an edge (how could you not get even a little buzz from “I hate you for making me love you”?)… Hizzie was the first Legacies ship I fell for so I feel like I’m always gonna be a bit bias towards them.

I’d choose either one of these ships over the train wreck that was Hope and Landon in a heartbeat though! Both had potential to be excellent in their own ways if H.ndon wasn’t shoved down our throats.

[fastcardotmp3]

forever thinking about the narrative we could've gotten if Kali had stuck around long-term and thinking about it specifically in conversation with the character arc of Abby in TLOU2, because like.

obviously the source materials are tonally different enough to not make it a clear-cut comparison, but there's something about the cycle of violence there and the desperation that comes with a years-long search for justice or revenge or closure, right?

these young women who were so deeply wronged by people more powerful than them, and so then run away and seek their own strength, seek out ways to use it. Abby gets this amazing storyline where we first see her exclusively from Ellie's perspective as the villain who killed this person she loved more than anyone, but who then becomes a person and who is given reasons and who is given a fullness of self that makes not just her more of a gut-punch to the world, but everyone around her too.

and I just keep thinking about what that sort of care could have done for a character like Kali who is so similarly caught in a cycle of violence in her search for closure, so similarly set in her pursuit of it, and what it might have been like to see her instead of seeing El's witnessing of her.

where are her hurts? what scars does she carry? whose death does she believe will be the one to make her feel okay again and when will she realize that none of them will?

Abby changes through relationships with people, through a relationship with a young boy who comes from such a different background to her but who has been hurt and who has lost in so many similar ways and Kali has that too.

Kali has El to show her a different perspective, to give her something worth loving again, to give her something to protect rather than something to fight.

I dunno where I'm going with this, I've had Kali on the mind lately and I'll always live on the Abby defense squad, but I really do mourn the direction the story could have gone if Kali had been offered the same level of personhood and depth by the narrative that Abby was.

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

Prompt: “i think the world of you.”

For Tolya x Reader please!!

For you, of course.

Miss Me? - Tolya Yul Bataar

Content Warnings: Not Beta/Proof Read.

"If you are sulking, please stop," Tamar says taking a seat.

"I am not sulking," you say defensively. Tamar gives you a withered look.

"You've not been half as chatty since he left," Tamar says.

"Maybe you're just not as much fun as he is," you jab. Tamar laughs at you, the laugh pulling itself from the depth of her.

"We both know that's not true," she says. You shrug. "It's okay to miss him."

"I know," you say, "I have no qualms about missing him. I have issues with him being gone."

"He misses you too," Tamar says, "if it helps."

It does, in a small way, makes you feel more reasonable in this dwelling sadness that comes from him being so far away for so long.

Tamar takes your silence as doubt. "No one knows Tolya like I do," Tamar says, "and my brother, he misses you."

"And you know that," you hadn't felt the need to challenge her before, and you dont really now, but part of you just wants to hear her be sure of it.

"I know that because he misses you when you're here," Tamar's laugh is gentle now, like she's trying to calm you.

"He does not," you throw her a look.

"Yes he does," Tamar says. "I bet those crows are sick of hearing about you."

"Enough," you say, shaking off her exaggeration.

"If he talks about you half as much as he thinks about you, then I will bet most of Ketterdam knows who you are by now," Tamar says, leaning back in her chair.

"He does not think of me," you say, rolling your eyes.

“I think the world of you.”

You look up and see Tolya in the doorway. He smiles at you and you rush to your feet. Pausing just shy of throwing your arms around him. "When did you get back?" You ask.

"Just now," he pulls you into a hug.

"I missed you," you say hugging him back.

"I always miss you," Tolya replies letting his chin rest on the top of your head.

"I didn't expect you back so soon," Tamar says grinning at her brother.

"The job Nikolai sent us on wasn't difficult," Tolya says.

"Don't let the King hear you say that," you joke.

"You could've enjoyed the scenery," Tamar says.

"I wanted to get back," Tolya admits.

"I wouldve enjoyed the scenery," Tamar says, and Tolya throws his sister a small bag.

"But I did bring you something back," Tolyas smile seems to give away the suprise.

She catches the bag and decides to thank him with her silence. "I do, you know," Tolya says, pulling back from the hug.

"Do what?" You ask.

"Think the world of you," he says.

"Oh," barely a whisper, and then louder and with confidence, "I think the world of you."

"Well you too are... delightful," Tamar says, "but I have to be... anywhere else."

[opheliajupiter99]

A Word to the Wise Pt. 1

It was late, terribly too late to be up and about in the Feywild, the faint flickering flames of the campfire fading into the distance as a long Gatorfolk walked aimlessly. He was circling around near the camp, trying to tire himself out enough to get back to sleep. It was hardly the first time Kremy had startled awake from a paranoia induced nightmare, and it surely wouldn't be the last.

He walked and walked, counting his steps to make sure he was still near the camp, sighing softly to himself as he rose up his snout to peer at the sky. The stars shined softly, dotted across the sky. The sight gave him some comfort at least; for as different as the Feywild was, the sky was the same, for the most part anyways.

He continued to walk, until something out of the corner of his eye made him stop abruptly. He looked to the tree line and squinted. He could've sworn...no, he must've been imagining it. He swore he saw the edges of a top hat, the wearer seeming to dart out of sight once he spotted him; but it -had- been raining earlier...perhaps he just saw his reflection amongst the leaves?

He shook his head and looked forward once more, continuing on despite the nagging feeling something was wrong. But he quickly began to notice the edges of his vision blurring, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand thinking perhaps he was tearing up, but was met with the realization his sight was only fogging more...

But...no. It wasn't his -vision- fogging. It was the air ITSELF fogging. A chill ran down his spine, backing up instinctively, and as he backed up, his clawed foot snagged on something, and he tumbled backwards with a yelp of surprise. He blinked blearily, seeing small, blurry forms beginning to crowd around him amongst the fogs.

Voodoo dolls. So, so many of them, clawing their way from the wet soil like dead rising from their graves, as the rumbles of ominous jazz began to flow through the air. The cloth skin of the dolls stitched and stained with dirt, their wide button eyes staring into the depths of his soul, wielding needles as they approached with eternal, stitched grins.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a sob came forth, tears quickly stinging the corners of his eyes. He tried to get his muscles to move, but his bones felt frozen in place as the realization of his damnation quickly set in. He wanted to fight, he wanted to argue, he tried to get his mouth to move or legs to spring up...but Gods, what was the point?! As much as he tried to cling to hope, he knew what these sights meant, he knew how hopeless any attempt to scream or beg was. He might as well already be dead.

Then heavy footsteps came, squishing through the mud, until the tall figure loomed over Kremy. Mr. Garou, his form only illuminated by the glowing pair of dice that floated just above his open palm, his cold gaze looking down at Kremy with almost a look of disappointment.

"I thought ya'd make it a bit longer, Kremy." He said, his tone a mocking fatherly one. "Ah well." He said with a shrug and a devilish smirk. "A hundred more where ya came from, boy." Kremy just stared up at him, mouth hanging slightly agape as tears flowed down the corners of his eyes. He steeled himself with a deep breath. "P-Please...please sir, I...I-I just need a bit more time." Garou merely scoffed. "Ya got any idea how many times I've been told dat? And ya know how many times that actually -worked-?" He barked a laugh.

Kremy couldn't help but whimper, bringing his hands up to cover his eyes, not able to bare witnessing whatever fate the man had in store. He heard Garou laugh, and the doll's needles scrape against each other, as if to sharpen them, then-

"Kremy! Whatcha doin' out here?" Came Gideon's voice. Kremy's body only scrunched more, at the idea of Gideon having to witness this. "Gid, I-I'm sorry, just go back-" He stopped mid-sentence as he uncovered his eyes. It...it was all gone. The fog, the dolls - Mr. Garou. Had he been sleepwalking? Gideon walked up to him and knelt down, holding out his hand. "Ya trip or somethin', buddy?"

Kremy opened his mouth, prepared to ask Gid if he'd seen any of that, but quickly closed it again. Of course he hadn't; it wasn't real. It was just a night terror, or...or he was starting to crack up. Whichever it was, it wasn't Gid's problem. He cleared his throat as he pulled back to his feet. "Y-Yeah, yeah, was just tryin' to walk off a nightmare, that's all. Let's head back."

Gid's brow furrowed a bit, knowing him well enough to know something was wrong, but decided not to press it for now. He patted him on the back, before the pair started to walk off, Kremy sneaking a paranoid peek over his shoulder, as he could've sworn, he saw the thin string of a balloon float through the tree line and out of sight.

[eliza-makepeace]

murtagh book thoughts

okay, it's been a while since i finished the murtagh book, and i've managed to figure out in coherent thoughts what it made me feel. it's coherent thoughts but it's not a coherent exposition, so you're warned.

in terms of the story, how its divided and all of that -- i liked the first half of the book very much. very enjoyable, murtagh's dealing with his past and his issues, trying to find where the stone comes from, we see his and thorn's bond... fun stuff. some parts are heartwrenching, but in general, it's interesting and enjoyable. still, it feels a bit like a videogame, where you have to get to point a, to point b, to point c in order to get your objective. and as much as i appreciate the new depths of worldbuilding paolini takes us into in "murtagh", i still feel like it's not "proper" worldbuilding.

by that i mean it feels like one of those old western movies where you know the characters can't walk too far away because what you think is a long field is actually a painted wall. the concepts are there: lyreth, the girl who fancied him at court... but you try to look a bit further into them and they're hollow.

the second half of the book, when they meet bachel and chaos ensues... not really my cup of tea. and it's not because i don't like storylines like that, where there's an interesting and fucked-up female character, cults and so forth. that's actually a pretty interesting idea, if only it had been properly executed. personally, my biggest issue with it is that murtagh already had gone through this. he'd already gone through having his agency taken from him, having to do horrible deeds because he can't help it, feeling hopeless and used... and i'm not complaining about this decision because murtagh is my poor little meow meow (although he is). i'm complaining because i feel like it reduces his experiences with galbatorix to nothing. back in inheritance, him being galby's name slave was the worst thing that could and had happened to him. now? bachel's worse. but it's the same principle. and i still think galby had more reason to be worse mentally and in terms of identity, for murtagh, than bachel was.

it also erases all of the healing and character development he'd gone through in the first half of the book. you could argue "oh, now that he's experienced freedom he can deal with bachel better than he could with galby" but i don't really agree and i don't really care. what's the point in destroying him in the ic, putting him relatively back together in the first half, and then obliterating him again (and worse, apparently) in the latter half. and then he's sad, and tired and devastated, but less so than in inheritance (which doesn't make sense if bachel was worse for him than galby), when he sees nasuada again.

the irony that murtagh's bond with alín feels more organic and natural than his with nasuada.... not in terms of characters being alike, just in the way it's written. paolini could've bothered with showing scenes of m and n at farthen dur, bonding, "courting" as he put it, so that the rest of their relationship actually has a strong base for the rest of the ic (giving a proper explanation which originally isn't there because the ic is in eragon's pov and not murtagh's), and so that their reunion is far more meaningful because it shows nasuada and him knew each other, actually bonded with each other before murtagh was kidnapped in eldest, to the point of developing romantic feelings for each other. if paolini hadn't put murtagh in random side quests throughout the book, he could've shown this and it would've worked better imo.

personally i think we didn't get enough tornac, or selena. i think murtagh should've pondered more about what it meant that eragon was brom's kid. what it meant about selena, how that changed murtagh's perception of her as a person. i'm a bit tired she gets reduced to just being his and eragon's mom, and it seems like that's the only way paolini wants them to see her too. murtagh seeing his mom like an individual, a person with her lights and shadows, with her depth, might have been an interesting thing and a new way to see himself as her son. every time paolini is about to reach something interesting with his characters, he changes course and i think that's a shame.

[stupidcanofpeaches]

okay!! finished s3 bitches!!

highlights:

lila and diego take the spotlight!! best messy couple hands down. dad diego!!

sloane and luther were honestly really heartwarming

blackout drunk five

the wedding episode was pretty fun if bittersweet

allison getting her happy ending after all the shit? i realize that this might be a controversial take

uhhhh five's arm getting cut off? just for a few minutes but the whump potential is there!!

reginald was a magnificient bastard, really enjoyed seeing more of him in action this season

more spotlight on luther in general! the moon flashback, more emphasis on his stress eating which i found really relatable

bitchy ben was fun!

allison's villain arc although with Big Caveats

harlan bc i actually kinda enjoyed him reconnecting with viktor

did not like:

the way the sparrows were handled? not enough time to really get to know the character, especially marcus who was offed almost immediately. the dynamics and parallels were interesting, but they were gone way too quickly despite their interesting designs and potential. i would've loved more flashbacks with them at least, like the dojo sparring match

i'll fully admit i did not expect them to actually kugelblitz stanley. i really did not.

allison's villain arc goes right here too bc while i feel that she was long overdue for it and its been brewing since s2, and i do like that they showed her trauma more in-depth, but they had her cross a boundary with barely any repercussions. the whole thing with luther was uhhh. uncomfortable. though i do like that at least they showed him to be freaked out and angered by what happened, stress eating and almost fearful the moment he saw her after the incident. being a shitty sister as she said does not cover it, and luther forgave her way too easily. they Could Have Handled It Better

harlan and the mothers storyline that served as the catalyst for the kugelblitz was interesting and worked fine as a setup for an apocalyptic scenario but i can't help but feel like there could've been more? idk what else i want and what i would've done considering the limited runtime of the show honestly, so i might be just complaining

five the founder?? goes against his character and i suppose it might be a setup as to why the total reset was bad in the longrun and that future slash past founder five is somehow aware of this and is probably a survivor of a similar scenario sans arm which our five recovered after the reset but but butttt. i don't get it. it just goes against his established character traits, with his persistent focus on saving his family and his complete and utter wilingness to do anything to save them. i can mostly understand him being exhausted and eventually giving up when it seems like there is really no way out this time but not fully, not to this point. i can't help but feel like he would've been all for going to the hotel oblivion if there was even a slim chance of saving everyone, not voting to stay and die right there. idk. him getting that tattoo just to complete the loop also led nowhere - you could cut it out and it wouldn't have changed a thing bc he still would've saw the symbols and recognized the sigil on the floor of the hotel oblivion. curious but im not a fan.

[jazzpostsstuff]

Chapter: AXL Development Documents, Initial Story Concept PART 3

If you happen to wonder why this project has some psychological or just some heavy themes that haven't been explored by the series prior, it's because the creation of this fanfiction happened to coincide with some bad and traumatic stuff I've experienced a mere month after I decided to make Chapter: AXL into a real thing. Usually when you feel like something is getting really good, there would be a moment you will just spiral down to the depths. Both your existence and mental state fall so deep you would look back at who you were before and not recognise that person anymore.

Going through a sudden loss of a loved one while you're still a child (or rather a teenager in my case but I can say I had a mind of a child at that time) is always devastating, and going through that together with your family can be even more soul-crushing because you see their pain and suffer even more from inability to influence your other family members, feeling weak and even going insane from that sometimes. Knowing that the last time I was optimistic was when I wasn't accepting the death of a family member and was trying everything to make them open their eyes and speak again has been making myself sad everytime I looked back at who I was just one and a half years ago. I am even tearing up while writing this right now, so I am clearly not helping myself here.

You can never truly recover from something like this. You can only overcome, let go and enter a new chapter fo your life as a new person. You would look back at the past, at the good moments you had so long ago, maybe you'll smile, maybe you'll get sad again, but just try looking at the bright side. Those happy memories were something that happened to you. The people you see in them might be gone, but it would've made them sad if you just gave up after the loss. You was strong enough to get back up and learn how to live again, despite everything you went through. And if you're still there, at the bottom, it can motivate you to get better for them and maybe regain the optimism or happiness that was lost.

If you fear death after an experience like this... I know how hard it isfor some because I've been there, but just try to accept your mortality. Knowing that you can't stay alive for all eternity would make you cherish the time you have on this Earth more and live a life to the fullest (within reason). Eternal life would just make you less human eventually (which was also something that happened to X prior to Zero series as well so here's an example of how living forever can suck).

"Why is it in a Megaman fanfic?". Well, I always related to Axl and I managed to bond even more with him after what I went through (the loss of a family member at a relatively young age, to be exact). Besides, Axl's story was supposed to be grimmer and deeper according to one of the producers of X7. I felt like taking a psychological approach to the story of Chapter: AXL and exploring the trauma that you get after experiencing horrific events only made sense. However, I am still not going into that topic too deep because I am still writing a Megaman story, but maybe you can argue that I still can do that because it's based off MMZ, but we have to remember that it's a story about war and hope - a hope for a better peaceful future that comes after the worst, like the light in the darkest depths you could've fell into.

You have to retain this hopefulness, give a breathing room after a disaster and not bombard the player reader with depression all the way through.

[highwaytothedangerzone502]

Ghost Story - Chapter 44

Pairing: Rooster x Female OC

Word Count: 1583

Warnings: Mention of near-death

Summary: No one will miss a ghost. It'd been a running joke for as long as anyone could remember, something Ghost herself started, and she always said it with a smile on her face or with mirth in her voice. The untouchable stealth pilot in every sense of the word, no one could've predicted the depth of her turmoil over recent events, nor the extremes she would go to in order to protect the man she loved, not even those closest to her. Now, all that was left of the young aviator for Maverick, Hangman, and Rooster were the memories of the past, which would slowly fade with time. She'd come into their lives and made an unforgettable impression, and then, like a ghost, she was gone... Then again, ghosts can't die a second time.

Notes: None

Chapter Songs: Midnight Rain My Wish

****

Ghost

Ghost remained primarily bedridden for the rest of the trip back to port, only getting up for meals, and even then, she hardly ate. The pain kept her hunger at bay. If she ate too much, nausea rolled in, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurl while she had broken ribs. Those were painful enough. Ghost didn't need to add to it.

When they docked, Maverick and Hangman carried hers and Rooster's backpacks, considering they could barely lift themselves out of bed without injuries, let alone a heavy bag. The Daggers, Penny, and Amelia greeted the aviators jubilantly, which Ghost had expected. However, to her surprise, there were two more guests alongside them.

"Hollywood! Wolfman!" Ghost exclaimed, hurrying over to them as fast as her aching body would allow her to. Wolfman reached Ghost first, and she hugged him tightly, thrilled to see the man she considered an uncle. "What are y'all doing here?"

"I couldn't be here for you when your mom died, so I wanted to be here when you came back," Wolf replied, looking her up and down with concern. "What the hell happened to you?!"

"Turns out crashing into an enemy plane and ejecting twice wreaks havoc on your body," she joked lightly, wincing when her ribs let her know laughing, even the smallest of chuckles, was unacceptable.

Hollywood gently hugged Ghost. "Penny told us when you were returning and that you'd gotten into some trouble. Looks like you took a beating."

"It's a miracle she's alive," Maverick said, joining the group. He placed a gentle hand on Ghost's shoulder. "She even had me scared."

Hollywood whistled high to low. "Now that's saying something."

"Guess you really can't kill a ghost twice," Ghost remarked, trying to wriggle a finger down inside her wrist's cast, "but this itch might prove me wrong if I can't reach it."

"Don't use your finger," Wolfman chastised, swatting her hand away. "You need a wire or something."

"It's somewhere in my bag, but I don't know where. I can't wait to get home and go to sleep."

"We're having a celebratory dinner tonight, but you should have plenty of time to get some rest before then," Penny said, coming over to hug Ghost. The Daggers were soon to follow. Twenty minutes after a brief catch-up, the group dispersed but promised to be there for dinner later. Hangman, Ghost, Rooster, Penny, Maverick, and Amelia ambled to the parking lot. On the way, Penny said, "Hey, Ghost, Rooster- Maverick and I were talking, and we decided we weren't comfortable with you being by yourselves after such severe injuries, so we want the two of you to stay with us for a little bit, just enough to put our minds at ease that you won't have any complications and until you get your bearings living with the injuries."

"Oh, I don't want to intrude," Ghost protested. "I'll be fine, honestly. I've been through worse-"

"No, you haven't," Hangman interrupted, shooting her a disapproving glare. She shot him one back that silently but clearly said: Not helping.

"You're not intruding with us inviting you, and we want you to stay with us."

"Please?" Maverick asked, offering a small smile. "Put an old man's mind at ease?"

Ghost sighed, reluctant to crowd the Benjamin household but unable to say no to Maverick. Besides, she still needed to talk to him. Her mom had lied about when she knew him. There was still the possibility that he was her father instead of Nathan Winchester. "Fine, but I need to swing by my apartment to get some stuff to spend the night."

"I can take you," Hangman offered immediately. "I need to get my truck first, but I can-"

"Here," Maverick said, handing over the keys to his Jeep. "Take mine. Rooster and I can take his Bronco with the girls back to the house."

"Thanks, Mav. We'll be back soon." Hangman casually saluted the captain and then offered his arm to Ghost. She graciously took it, thankful for the support he provided, the same support he had always given her. He opened the car door for Ghost, and she slid in. After carefully buckling herself in, Ghost leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes, grateful to be home, alive, and mostly in one piece.

She recognized her body was exhausted and in need of some rest, but she severely underestimated how much because she had no memory of Hangman starting the Jeep, let alone the trip to her apartment, so Ghost found herself more than a little disoriented when she opened her eyes, and they were sitting outside her apartment.

"You with me?" Hangman queried, resting his hand gingerly on her leg. Ghost nodded, smiling sleepily at him. She meant to reassure him but judging by his hesitance to remove his hand, she failed to fully achieve her goal. He helped her out of the Jeep, and the pair strolled up to her apartment. Ghost kept her head down, the only thing that prevented the sun from making her headache worse. Hats and sunglasses hurt her head, too, so those were out of the question as well, much to her chagrin.

When they entered, Hangman grabbed the suitcase for Ghost while she set to work, getting enough belongings to last a week. Hangman helped her pack, bringing her things that required bending down or heavy lifting. 

Hangman stayed unusually quiet, and Ghost never would've mentioned it had she not seen his trembling hand as he placed her hairbrush in the suitcase. Reaching over, Ghost gently grasped his shoulder. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, refusing to look at her.

Ghost opened her mouth to prod but then remembered the last time she did such a thing, it'd resulted in them having a fight, and she had no energy for a repeat of that situation. So, Ghost reluctantly let it drop. She tried to refocus, but her pounding headache- a side effect of the concussion- decided Ghost would focus only on that. She massaged her forehead. Pain medicine was out of the question since she'd taken some only a couple of hours ago. It helped but didn't fully rid her of her pains.

"Ghost? You okay?" Hangman asked worriedly.

"Yeah, yeah, just a headache. You?"

"I-" he cleared his throat- "I'm not okay..."

Ghost faced him, staring him down with concern. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"You," he croaked out. "You almost died because I wasn't fast enough taking out that last enemy. Hell, you did die on me temporarily when you coded during surgery."

"Jake-" 

"I know death comes with being an aviator, especially when you're near or in hostile territory, but of all the people in my life I thought I'd lose because they were shot down or- or had a malfunction with their plane, it was never you. You weren't even on the list, so when I saw Rooster holding your motionless body in the waves..."

Tears welled in his green eyes as he dropped his gaze from hers. He quietly continued, "They train you for a lot of shit in the military, but they don't train you for this, to lose your best friend that you grew up with, the person you go to for anything and everything, the person who will always have a piece of your heart no matter how far apart we grow physically or emotionally... I'm not the guy you're supposed to be with, I know that, but-" Jake met her eyes once more- "that will never change how much I love you. The idea of not having you in my life, my best friend, it- it's paralyzing. And what's worse is that you almost died before I could make amends and apologize for how I treated you that evening at Maverick's hangar. I'd bottled that in for so many years, and I hated myself for letting you go, so I took it out on you, and I'm sorry, Annalise. For everything, I am sorry."

Without a word, Ghost pulled Hangman into a tight hug, ignoring the screams of protest in her banged-up body. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, his giant frame shaking as a few, quiet sobs escaped from him. Keeping him enveloped in the hug, Ghost whispered, "You are not to blame for what happened up there or afterward, do you understand me? It's my fault for chasing after that enemy when I wasn't physically in shape to do so. I should've disengaged from the fight once you and Maverick got there. Do not blame yourself any further for that, okay? And I'm so sorry for scaring you the way I did. I would never intentionally hurt you. I could never do that to someone I love." 

Hangman pulled away, wiping the tears off his cheeks and then brushing off the ones rolling down Ghost's. She hadn't even been aware she'd been crying too. Sniffling, he said, "We good?"

"Absolutely," Ghost replied, a weight lifting off her shoulders since she and Hangman had worked things out. Now, if only she could figure out how to salvage whatever was broken between her and Rooster. He'd been strangely quiet, hardly talking to her unless necessary, and while Ghost told herself it was the pain and the medicine causing him to act out of the ordinary, deep down, she knew better. Deep down, she knew that it had something to do with her...

****

Tags: @supernaturaldawning @shanimallina87 @polikszena @lgg5989 @callsign-milano @bradshawsandbridgetons @harper1666 @shadeops21 @double-j @copaceticwriter @rotating-obsessions @sharkprestige @thedarkinmansfield @lapilark @mickeyluvs @starshipfantasy @bennypears00 @avabobava @the-navistar-carol @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @carmellasworld @0hb0llocks @nicangelinee @summ3rlotus @3picklesinajar @magentamistress @the-other-hawkeye @elisha-chloe @emilymarie105 @persephone11110 @luckyladycreator2 @boogdleyboo @k0k3 @bibissparkles @lilmonstrjedi @stinkyrat09 @cocoag19 @suburbzchick @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @goodstuff28 @georgiasimpson95 @horselovers2016 @tanithpriad125 @davidshawnsown @sowolfstudentme @agagafafa @callmemana @sec17 @brxklyn15 @h0ppy0the0sheep @tomanybandstolove @abigailannz @mini-bee-bee @super-btstrash-posts

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[practically-an-x-man]

Sunshine (Kyle x Jasper)

Summary: a few gentle moments lead to Kyle regaining what he'd lost.

Tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, mentions of necromancy

Word Count: 2.4k

____

He lost his sunshine when he came back. After all, how could he find that warmth within himself after everything he'd been through? After seeing the depths of Hell with his own two eyes? After being plucked from that, stitched back together, scarred over, the way he had?

Jasper always called it his sunshine - golden light, warmth, comfort, endlessly radiating. And he knew it comforted them, he knew it made those bad days a little better, but somewhere in the cold and the dark he'd lost it. Possibly for good.

It wasn't so much an overcast day as it was total nuclear fallout. The smog was impenetrable.

Or so he thought.

The first flicker returned quickly enough.

He was in bed. It had only been weeks - two or three, though time was difficult for him then - since he'd been thrown back into his life like a fastball to a baseball glove. He hadn't quite found speech yet. Coordination came and went. He could've sworn he could still smell the sulfurous fires of Hell lingering on his skin.

And Jasper, somehow, still laid beside him. They'd been asleep for hours now, as if nothing had ever changed. Kyle couldn't even bring himself to close his eyes. He couldn't surrender to the nightmares, not now.

He wondered how they could lay beside him, to stay so close when he could still smell the acrid scent of rubbing alcohol and formaldehyde all around him, the smoky perfume of purgatory clouding his lungs with every breath. Maybe it was a memory. Maybe it was all in his head. But he couldn't seem to wash the smell away.

He wasn't warm like he used to be. He still felt half-dead, perpetually cold no matter what he tried. That was the first time he realized he'd lost his sunshine. That was the first time he realized how much it once had warmed him.

Jasper didn't seem to notice. They lay just beside him, pressed to his side as they always had before, as if they didn't notice the way his chest was too slim and his hands were too broad and the heart that beat in his chest wasn't his own. As if they didn't notice the hellfire-stink on his skin, the necrosis-chill instead of his usual warmth.

All at once, he found himself flooded with guilt. And so Kyle tried to slip away, at least as much as he could before his uncoordinated limbs sent him tumbling off the bed.

"Mm. No." Jasper mumbled, breaking the silence of the room and sleepily pulling themself back against his body, "Stay. You're warm."

He froze in place, glancing down at them as they settled back in against his chest. They were already asleep, if they'd ever really woken up to begin with. His heart was pounding in his chest like it was the first time they'd ever pressed this close.

Tentatively, carefully, he let his arm fall around their back. Jasper turned their face against his chest with a deep, contented sigh.

And the sun peeked out from behind the clouds.

____

The next shift came only a week or so later. He'd found a few more words in that time - after all, his mind was still painfully intact despite all he'd gone through, and there wasn't much else to do on those long days but try to find himself again.

Jasper had brought him an AAC board. As soon as Kyle got past his own pride about using it, he'd admit that it helped. At the very least, it saved him from stumbling and stammering for words that weren't ever going to spring free. And they'd promised him, time and time again, that he didn't need to force himself to speak. Communication with the board was still communication. It was all the same at the end of the day.

But in those long days, when Jasper was off at their classes and the witches were... well... doing whatever they did during the day, when Kyle was left alone? He practiced. He didn't need to get back to where he was. But he wanted to. He was tired of feeling like Frankenstein's monster, shambling along and groaning.

So he practiced. For hours, he practiced. There were a few words he needed to get back under his tongue.

The door closed with a bang, and Jasper's footsteps danced up the staircase in a flurry of motion. He knew it was them from the very first step. Nobody moved quite like they did. He found himself smiling before they even reached the door.

"Hey, babe," they said, looking tired but smiling at him as they entered the room, "Doing okay today?"

He nodded, working to loosen his tongue from the roof of his mouth. It still infuriated him, how hard it was to find words these days. It used to be so effortless. He'd taken it for granted.

He stretched to grab his AAC board from where it lay on the bed behind it, and Jasper made their way to his side to watch as he pointed to a few of the symbols.

How... work?

"Fine. Tiring. It's all that summer dehydration, y'know? Can't count the amount of IV's I had to put in today." Jasper muttered, sliding onto the edge of the bed and kicking their shoes to the corner of the room, "And I have a bout tonight."

"Mm. Tuesday." he mumbled in agreement. Jasper nodded.

"Yeah. Oh- hey, d'you want to come? Get out of the house for a while?" they asked, the idea striking them like a bolt of lightning, "We're up against one of the smaller leagues, so it shouldn't be too crowded there."

He thought on that one for a minute, but eventually shook his head with a low sigh. Jasper frowned, tucking their legs under them as they slid a little further onto the bed. They reached out, resting their hand lightly on his forearm.

"The others know what's going on. At least... they know enough. I'll find a chair for you, right up front." they promised, looking up at him with empathetic eyes, "If you want to go, we can make it work. I'll put everything together."

Again, he considered it. But again he shook his head. He didn't know if he was ready to be out in public again. Especially after what happened the last time. He didn't trust this new anger festering inside him.

"Alright," Jasper said, though their voice was sad. After a moment, they seemed to brighten a little and leaned into his side, "Anyway, I definitely need a nap or I'm gonna fall asleep on my skates. Wanna lay down for a bit?"

That, he could agree with. He slid back on the bed, giving Jasper room to take their usual place against his side.

"Ugh, hang on, I'm not sleeping in a binder," they muttered, taking a moment to wriggle out of the garment before curling up beside him. Kyle kept himself still until they made themself comfortable, not wanting to jostle them with his uncooperative limbs.

"Jazz?" he mumbled, praying his tongue would cooperate with him. Just once. Just for a few more words.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

He wanted to say more than that. He had paragraphs, pages, whole encyclopedias of words for them. He had monologues of affection that he couldn't bring himself to say, essays and theses and declarations of gratitude for how they'd stayed with him, how they'd helped him, everything they'd done for him. But he knew his tongue would freeze up again if he tried. He was forced to make do with this.

"I... I love you too." Jasper's voice was choked, breath hitching as if they were holding back tears. He hadn't been able to say those words since he returned, though he knew they could feel every ripple of affection that coursed through him at just the sight of them.

And as they leaned over and caught his lips in a kiss, he caught another sight of the sun.

____

Time passed. He found more words, both on his own and with the magical aid of the witches. Gradually he settled back into himself, and those lingering clouds began to drift away. If it weren't for the scars, or the way his words still fled when he got flustered, it was as if he'd never he'd never been through the horrors of his past.

But he still hadn't quite found his sunshine. The clouds came and went, but there still remained those lingering shadows hanging over him. And he'd stay there, some part of him still trapped in his mind, and wonder about how to regain those final missing pieces. Life was good, wasn't it? What else was there left to do?

He sat on the edge of his bed, indiscriminately smearing ointment on his scars. Most days, he did it twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. Any less, and they got maddeningly itchy - itches he couldn't scratch, of course, knowing the scars were about the only thing holding him together. When he began with the ritual, he'd been careful about it: covering every patch of scar tissue, rubbing it in until the cream vanished, diligently inspecting the skin to make sure it wasn't broken or cracked or infected.

Now he hardly cared. What had begun as a dedicated fifteen minutes was now a careless four-and-a-half, slapping on the ointment almost roughly and calling it good enough because he couldn't stand to focus on the scars any longer than that. He'd been careful in the beginning because he'd thought they would fade, that being diligent now meant one day he could relieve himself of this little habit.

But they hadn't faded. Not enough. He could still count every rough stitch in his skin, and he figured he always would. They'd stay this way, raised and pink and all too obvious, until he died- again.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Jasper until her hands were wrapped around his own, taking the little tub of lotion from him.

"It's fine. I've got it." he muttered automatically, already reaching to reclaim the tin. He wanted this over with. Two more minutes, and he could move on to something less painful.

"You're miserable."

"Not fair, Jazz." Kyle sighed, sure she'd simply peered into the tangle of emotion swirling inside him. Jasper shrugged.

"I don't need this," she said, tapping her chest to indicate that strange empathic sense of hers, "I can see it on your face. Y'know, like any normal person."

That startled a laugh out of him, a small one, and Jasper smiled as she sat down behind him.

The first touch almost startled him, cold lotion against the back of his neck. That, of all the scars, was his least favorite. It was so... inhuman. Reattached limbs were one thing - rare, yes, but Jasper had assured him more than once that she'd seen it happen. And she'd said, just as frequently, that there were surgeries that could leave scars like the one on his neck - tracheal, laryngeal, she'd even shown him pictures. But those scars didn't go all the way around. And nobody survived decapitation.

Jasper's fingers were gentle, moving in smooth and comforting circles as she rubbed the lotion into his skin. She ran her thumbs along the base of his shoulders, pressing in firmly like she was giving him a massage. Just for a moment, basking in the touch, it was easy to forget about the scars. Kyle shut his eyes and leaned into the touch.

When she'd finished with the area around his neck, she wordlessly shifted her grip to his arm and began working at the scars around his shoulder instead. Her fingers migrated a bit, gentle around the scars but pressing more firmly against the muscles of his back. He hadn't realized how many knots had accumulated there.

Kyle found himself continuing to soften into the touch, until he was practically propped against Jasper's body where she sat behind him. He could feel her shoulders hitch as she laughed, pleasantly amused at his reaction. Another moment, and she'd turned her head to kiss his neck, just under his jaw.

"Y'know..." Jasper murmured, trailing her fingers over that scar on his shoulder, "I think it's kinda sexy. Kinda rugged."

"Really?" he asked, a bit too much of his disbelief bleeding into his voice. Even if it hadn't, he was sure she could feel it radiating from him all the same.

"Mm-hm." she agreed with a hum, "Would've driven me nuts if I was still in my emo phase."

"Did you ever really leave?" he teased, pointedly flicking his eyes down her brightly-dyed buzz cut, her multitude of tattoos, the new nose ring she'd gotten the week prior.

"Shut up." Jasper huffed, though she was stifling laughter, "Now I'm punk, there's a difference."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Get it right." she told him, prodding him jokingly in the shoulder, "Seriously, I expected better from you."

"Alright, alright, I'll go revisit the notes." he drawled, dragging the words out with an exaggerated sigh. Jasper giggled, dropping her forehead against his back and weaving her arms around his waist.

It was that, the sound of her laughter, the feel of her arms around him, poking fun at each other like they always had, that finally scared off those last lingering clouds. Sunlight bloomed, full and unimpeded, for the first time in nearly a year.

Jasper felt it as much as he did. As that warmth spread, the chill finally chased from his skin, she let out a slow breath and melted against his body. He could feel her breaths, deep and content, brushing over the skin of his back.

"Did you do that?" he found himself asking. It wouldn't be the first time she'd woven those strings of emotion within him. Some nights he still needed her to bring him calm before bed, or he'd never escape the nightmares. And it was Jasper who'd untangled that knot of anger that had settled in when he first came back. He assumed this was another one of those, her trying to mend what had been broken and eroded within him.

But she shook her head, the edges of her buzz cut faintly prickling at his skin.

"All you, babe." she mumbled, sounding more relaxed than he'd heard her in months. She gave him a little squeeze, arms tightening around his waist.

"I missed that sunshine."

[dangoarts]

i realized something as i was falling asleep yesterday: if i want people to like the au i'm making, i need to actually share what the hell's happening in my brain. therefore

Blotted AU Masterpost!

I've mentioned the Blotted AU a bit here, but I've barely gone in depth about what it actually is. In short, it's a Batim/Batdr rewrite AU inspired by Epic Mickey. It roughly merges the concept of the Cycle with the early game story of Epic Mickey, ideas from Ink Machine and Dreams Come to Life, and the story of Dark Revival. The general plot is that the cast from Bendy and the Ink Machine are all dragged into the Cycle by the Ink Demon and now have to survive as a team.

Before I go in depth (and it's gonna be long i apologize), here is the google doc where I wrote down every idea dump I had for it, a cast list with their roles and brief history in the au, and a rough timeline. It won't be any better of a tl;dr for this post since it's a barely organized mess that only makes sense to me, but if you're interested in seeing how the au developed over time, feel free to give it a read! A lot of the idea dumps ended up being about Sammy whoops (he's my favorite).

~*~*~

The rewrite starts off when Joey commissions the Ink Machine from Gent. Originally it was to cut down on animation costs and time, but when he realizes he could make 3D actors with it, he starts to experiment.

His first attempt that lives is Ink Bendy. His disfiguration and uncannily human appearance is immediately met with hostility and rejection, and Joey basically crams him back into the machine to try again. Unbeknownst to him, that creates the Cycle and Bendy never actually died. The rejection and isolation along with being trapped in a realm that mimics the fleeting glimpse of the real world he could've lived in started brewing up his very negative feelings towards Joey and humans in general.

Joey tries to make Bendy again, but the only surviving clones are the Wandering Sin Bendy and Concept Bendy, both of which are "scrapped" like Ink Bendy. Once he accepts that Bendy won't work, he tries with the Butcher Gang. A lot more clones survive, but they all end up horribly disfigured and mutilated. All of them are thrown into the Cycle.

His attempts with Alice Angel make incredibly humanoid creatures (original Lost Ones minus the dead employee bit), and that leads him to try creating an actual human with the Ink Machine. Everyone is really concerned about his actions and the ethics behind it at this point, and they get Henry to try and stop him. Naturally, Joey ignores them, makes a secret room for it, and continues his experiments.

After numerous failures that end up creating the population of the Cycle, Audrey is born in 1941. Joey discovers the joys and struggles of being a single dad working an executive position until 1946, when the Ink Demon finally gathers enough power over the Cycle to control the Ink Machine. Joey Drew Studios floods with ink, and every employee in the building is dragged into the Cycle.

Nathan Arch inherits the studio rights and adopts Audrey like Joey's will requests. A lot of her childhood with Joey is forgotten due to normal childhood amnesia, but she still goes by Audrey Drew. Her life is relatively uneventful and she gets hired as an animator in Archgate Studios like normal.

Meanwhile, in the Cycle, the studio employees quickly have to find shelter from the hostile toons. After finding refuge in Artist's Rest, they start pushing back against the Ink Demon's relentless aggression. It turns into a war of survival, with each side fighting to trap or destroy the other.

The animators start losing the fight when Sammy gets his eye torn out by the Ink Demon. The ink from the wound creates a mental connection between the two, and he's slowly corrupted from the inside out. It culminates into the Ink Demon puppeteering him, forcing him to lead the toons into the animators' base. A massive fight breaks out that kills most of the studio employees, and the Ink Demon consumes Joey's soul to permanently kill him.

Besides Joey, the employees who died are reincarnated as toons or Lost Ones, dubbed "conversion death." Usually their memories of their past life are blocked off, allowing their original personalities to stay but creating a blank slate for the Ink Demon to control. Conversion killed toons can keep memories from their past human life, but they never keep all of them. They can also regain their human memories again, but the process is usually very confusing, drawn out, and painful, with the memories coming back as visions accompanied by migraines.

Sammy was conversion killed after the fight that killed Joey. He was made into the Ink Demon's second in command, complete with receiving a fraction of his power as shifting through walls and manipulating his ink appearance. Susie and Norman were conversion killed during the fight, and they became Twisted Alice and initially a Lost One respectively. Norman's body was incredibly unstable and needed mechanical implants to survive outside of the Puddles, resulting in the Projectionist.

Henry steps up in Joey's absence and leads the surviving few to the Gent workshop after a few days of living precariously without safety. They switch their focus from fighting against the Ink Demon to surviving, now locked in a defensive stalemate with the toon forces. During the time, Thomas uses the familiar tech and supplies to create the signal towers, sealing off the workshop from the toons.

During the stalemate, the animators still had to brave the studio to gather food and materials. Jack, Wally, Shawn, and Daniel did most of the scouring, and Allison and Thomas only ventured out whenever they needed more supplies for his machines. While on those missions, Daniel was conversion killed into Buddy Boris, Jack's left arm was slashed and corrupted, and Allison and Thomas were conversion killed together into Allison Angel and Tom.

Boris forgot everything from his past life, but still shows sympathy to the animators. He lets them stay in his hideout he made if they need to and helps them evade the other toons. Allison and Tom forgot most of their past, but they remembered that the Ink Demon was dangerous and the animators weren't. They quickly went back to their side as soon as they could.

In 1963, Wilson disappears from the real world after finding out what the Ink Machine does in Archgate's museum honoring Joey Drew Studios. In the Cycle, he picks up where Thomas left off on the development of technicolor to combat the toons, along with trying to create his own ink life. He succeeds at both with the creation of the Keepers and technicolor ink, and the war flares back up.

Eventually, he uses the technicolor to gravely weaken and imprison the Ink Demon after a large fight. Henry is against his actions and torturous experiments on the Ink Demon, and he leaves after getting into a massive argument with him. To everyone else, he completely vanishes, but he instead takes up residence with Boris.

In 1973, the Ink Demon escapes from his physical prison Wilson trapped him in. He starts to recover from Wilson's treatment, but still can't get past the mental prison of Dapper Bendy he trapped him in. On the anniversary of the studio's disappearance, Audrey is lured into the Cycle by the Dark Puddles. Most of the story here follows Dark Revival's, with Allison finding her after a Piper raises the alarm, Audrey discovering Bendy and accidentally shocking him with her power, the Ink Demon getting released periodically from his toon prison, and Audrey finally making it to the Gent workshop.

When the Ink Demon's toon prison destabilizes, he acts a lot more aggressive and automatically treats everyone as his enemy. He kills anyone he can get his hands on, which included an overjoyed Sammy that ran straight to his death. He calms down after Audrey shows him kindness as Bendy, and he especially calms down when she shows him that same level of kindness and additional sympathy both as Bendy and the Ink Demon once she learns what had happened to him.

However, during that, Sammy took the death extremely badly, believing that he was killed because he didn’t free him, and does everything he can to earn his forgiveness again. Along with suffering through memory flashes of his past life, he tries to sacrifice anyone he can get his hands on, which includes the other toons that once trusted him. They reject him as their leader and start forming isolated groups, with some of them becoming Amok and their followers, the Ink Jets, the Demon Followers that still fight against the animators, and colonies of Butcher Gang clones. Alice wanders the studio alone, and the Projectionist stays in his designated area.

Sammy gets imprisoned after trying to attack the Gent workshop in a desperate attempt to please the Ink Demon. During his imprisonment, he regains most of his memories and starts to question how genuine his loyalty was to the demon. Audrey finds Henry shortly after and brings him back. Henry explains the full history of the Cycle to her, including what Joey did and the revelation that she's not human.

I'm still unsure whether or not I want Wilson to create a big scene with Shipahoy Dudley, and if he did, he would permanently die like Joey. However, I do want Audrey to deescalate the situation between the Ink Demon and the animators. His problems all came from Joey, and the other workers did nothing and were against his actions with the Ink Machine. Once he calms down and stops, he'd release everyone who isn't native to the Cycle back into the real world.

The ones who died in the Cycle revert back to mostly human in the real world. Some traits from their previous forms carry over like scars, Alice and Allison keeping their horns for example. They'd have to readjust to living like humans again along with revoking their legal death status.

~*~*~

and that's it! if you made it this far congrats you're a trooper

i'm still working on it and i wanna make stories for it like i did with sammy already, so praying to the motivation gods that i can get enough brainthoughts to write

now that i have the explanation done i can go back to posting cryptic nonsensical stuff about it

[rememberthisham]

All He Ever Wanted Ch. 17

The ground leeched the warmth from Dib as he lay on it. The mud was cold and still a little damp from where the snow had melted the week prior. The lessons with the witch were certainly progressing but they weren't making any more sense.

The point of this exercise was, for some reason, to pretend he was lying on a carpet. It was difficult with the blank white sky burning his eyes and the wind blowing every so often to remind him he was outdoors. He tried not to fidget or picture the spiders in the leaves around him that he couldn't see, grateful for his signature trench coat acting as an added layer between himself and the ground.

He did suppose one reason for the exercise could've been to get him away for a while. The witch was certainly devious enough to fabricate a plan to make Dib just sit outside and not bug him for a few hours, especially after earlier…

He'd rushed to the witch's cabin after Skool at a full run, practically letting himself in after knocking. He'd told the witch all about the 'homework' assignment and how it had gone so much different than he'd expected. He told him about Zim opening his eyes to his banishment and the temporary stillness their rivalry had taken. He gushed about the technology, the TECHNOLOGY!

He had probably bored the witch most with his in-depth description of the moving platforms and the tubes to nowhere and the weird potato/tomato printer. Then he finally got into the best details about the PAK and how Irkens could possibly have gotten the technology to create a metal casing meeting the conditions necessary to keep a brain alive while also holding so much machinery in such a compact space. He talked about their discoveries and their plans for more and how he couldn't wait for his dad to leave so he could actually have the first MRI scan of an alien's brain.

The witch had to wait a long time for Dib to finally tire himself out. He was clearly out of his depth on how to respond to the dump of information, but he'd told Dib that pursuing common interests with a friend was healthy.

"But you probably shouldn't be prying into someone else's body, he could get hurt."

"Ok, first of all," he'd responded, never pausing his excited pacing. "Zim is not a friend. And the betterment of science is not a common interest." He'd defended.

"Betterment of science…" the witch had muttered. "Your pool of peers who actually match your education level is slim, and isn't going to get bigger the longer you isolate yourself." This remark had finally made Dib stop mid-stride.

"What are you saying?"

The old witch shrugged at the question, smirking as he replied. "The crayfish sides with the crab."

In the end, he'd assigned Dib to lie on the ground and gone home. Dib snorted, thwarting a gnat as it tried valiantly to fly up his nose.

He was not friends with Zim. He was continuing his research into extraterrestrial biology with the same goal he'd always had, exposing the existence of aliens to the world. He was going about it less aggressively now that he knew the fate of humanity wasn't at stake, but his endgame had never changed.

He sat up with a huff, blinking as the sudden rush of blood away from his brain made his head hurt. When was the last time he'd drank water? He stood from his spot on the ground and twisted back slightly to look at the small house in the trees, contemplating going back and talking to his teacher some more.

The witch made him go calm down and touch grass, now that he was calm he didn't really feel like learning any more about 'the craft'.

He felt like learning more about aliens.

That wasn't new, and he let the familiar desire fuel his steps as he left the woods, heading back into town. He trudged down the roads, dodging a stray shopping cart as it rocketed up the sidewalk powered by gravity and the momentum of the unfortunate teenager astride it. He walked himself back to his house out of habit, staring at the building for a moment and wondering if there was anywhere else he had to go that day before heading inside. He didn't want to go home but he didn't really want to go anywhere else, so here he was.

Opening the door he was met with the familiar sound of Gaz watching TV. The familiar hallway with various family portraits with his father telecommuting to be in them. He stepped into the familiar kitchen to have the same familiar soda he usually grabbed before going to his familiar room…

Uh…

He froze, hand on the soda and head in the fridge. Had he actually seen that? He slowly closed the refrigerator and sure enough at the table sat his father, hands folded and goggled face smiley as he sat casually across the table from none other than Zim.

He stared openly at the purely outlandish sight of Zim in his house and having what looked like tea with his dad. Zim was disguised in his humorously unconvincing wig and contact lenses, and acted as if nothing was amiss. He used a gloved pinky to pick something out of his clearly inhuman teeth before raising a lack of an eyebrow at Dib's consistent stare.

"Hello son," Professor Membrane spoke up, seemingly not noticing the Mega-Stuf-Oreo thick tension. "I didn't expect you home from school so soon."

"I…" Dib short-circuited, making Zim smile malevolently at his confusion. "What is he doing here?" He asked, pointing accusingly.

"I found your foreign friend here trying to fit through the mail slot. Isn't that funny?"

"He's not—"

"WE ARE NOT FRIENDS!" Zim interrupted Dib with the same correction at a much greater intensity. If Dib had checked his cameras he would've seen the utterly torturous morning Zim had had with his minions to fuel such an outburst. After Dib had left the base it had been nothing but Minimoose giving sarcastic squeaks and GIR screeching about how he missed 'Master's best friend Mary'. Zim's eye twitched slightly as he carefully corrected his statement.

"Ehem…I mean…yes, I am one of your spawn's meat-friends from the education brick." He confirmed with a forced smile. "Weren't you speaking?"

"Yes yes, my expansion." The Professor somehow sipped his tea through his collar without incident and seemed to continue a previous story. "The Tokyo grand opening is tomorrow, our facility will bring free and mandatory psychiatric resources to the entire eastern continent of the world just as it has been doing for the Americas for nearly ten years." He said excitedly. Zim nodded and brought his own tea to his mouth, clearly not sipping any, before putting the cup back down. 

"Fascinating." He said forcefully. "And how mandatory are these 'resources'? Would you say it would be pointless for the puny eastern humans to resist them?" He pressed. "That soon the entire world will be doomed to bow before the awesome and terrifying might of your 'resources'?"

"Why…" the professor scratched the strap of his goggles with a finger. "That is such an interesting way of putting it. Yes, theoretically, that is what we're striving for here at Membrane labs!" He confirmed with a chuckle. Dib watched the conversation for a little too long before he realized he was just staring, mouth open in confusion and disbelief. With a shake of his head, he approached the table and took a seat.

"I'm sorry son but I didn't make any extra, would you like foodio to start another pot?" His father produced a button that seemed to appear from the palm of his hand, thumb hovering over it. 

"No, no, I'm good." He placated until his father put Foodio's button away. Be cracked open the tab of his soda and noticed with a smirk how Zim recoiled from the noise almost imperceptibly. "So why are you here?" He addressed the alien, Zim lacing his fingers politely. 

"As a fellow hairless ape with a hopelessly over-swollen frontal cortex for its evolutionary state, I thought getting involved with the local outlets for scientific expression would do me well." He said innocently. "I am a bit of a scientist myself."

"Are you, young man? How cute!" The Professor said earnestly.

"Ignorant fool, I WILL OWN YOU!" Zim shouted through his teeth at first before it burst into the room as if he couldn't hold it in. He coughed into his fist several times. "Uh…sorry, I have one of those human coughing diseases that don't draw attention." He excused, Membrane nodding as if that checked out perfectly.

"I'm only a few days away from a cure for that. Never a dull moment around here." He remarked conversationally. At that moment the mechanical band he always wore around his wrist began to beep wildly. He looked down at it, tapped several buttons, and took on a very concerned posture. "Oh dear, I'm needed at the lab." He jumped from his chair.

"What?"

"Dad!"

"Goodbye, kids!" He called, stuffing the toaster, the blender, and the knife block into his briefcase before marching down the hallway. "I'll be back later tonight or after the opening, Foodio's in charge, and no ordering more than four pizzas a week. Love you!" He closed the door with a slam. 

The house was quiet aside from the small, disinterested "later dad," from Gaz in the living room. Dib turned slowly to glare at Zim across the table.

"What?"

"Why are you actually here, Zim?" The alien pushed his teacup away in disgust, making a weary 'pshhhh' sound and staring at the ceiling.

"You invited me, human."

"After my dad left for Tokyo."

"I wanted to talk to your parental unit." 

"WHY?" Dib pressed in frustration. "He can't help you, he won't even admit you're an alien." 

"Oh, Dib…" Zim stood and shook his head in pity. "Poor, stupid, stupid, ignorant Dib." He continued. "POOR, SILLY—"

"Would you make your point?"

"You see, your father is my key to ruling this pathetic ball of dirt." He explained. "He's already got the entire population to worship him, I could easily seize power once I just…" he balled his fists in visible frustration, "just…just…figure out how he did it." He finished. Dib blinked at Zim and pressed his palms to his eyes under his glasses.

"You've got to be kidding me." He breathed. "You're still trying to conquer the Earth?" He asked in disbelief.

"Not trying, succeeding." Zim corrected him unhelpfully.

"Don't you get it?" He laughed almost hysterically. "They're never going to respect you, Zim. No matter how much you do to prove yourself or how hard you try to impress them, they're never going to be impressed." He stood from the table. Zim narrowed his eyes.

"You don't understand how—"

"You're hopeless! You need to get it through your ugly green head, Zim, they're laughing at you. They banished you. They're never going to see what you're trying to do to help them. No matter what you're always going to be alone and unloved and stuck while he goes off and makes history for the thousandth time."

"What?"

"And when you finally think you have something he can't deny? When you finally shove his stupid face in the truth? He's going to look at you, with no remorse, and with a straight-faced smile say that's not real." He was breathing pretty heavily by the end of his rant. Zim had started off looking offended, but now he was just confused and perhaps a little perturbed. 

"Human…you've lost me."

"I…" Dib felt his face heat like a tea kettle. Unbearable embarrassment boiled over his skin as he fought not to let the tightness in his throat become actual tears, that was the last thing he needed. "I…" he still didn't have any way to finish the statement he'd started, but he couldn't just say nothing. He closed his eyes, taking the deep breaths, four seconds in and four seconds out. Slowly his embarrassment seemed to ebb slightly and his skin cooled just a little. "I…" he breathed the syllable one last time before continuing. "I'm sorry." He said at last. With that, he took his soda from the table and left the kitchen. 

He trudged up the stairs and found his bedroom door. He breathed out finally as he shut the door behind him, leaning heavily against it.

Zim watched the human leave after his outburst and felt suddenly very out of place. He was obviously out of place in his former enemy's kitchen, but he felt out of place even in a mission of infiltration. He felt as if he no longer had the right to be there.

Ridiculous. 

"Now look at what you did." Zim jumped as the Dib-sister seemed to materialize in the doorway to the kitchen. Her creepy squinted eyes open to their fullest at the alien.

"Eh?"

"You should just go." She grumbled, casually crossing the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"It's not my fault the Dib is malfunctioning." Zim crossed his arms, a sudden fear flashing through him before he squashed it. What if Zim was contagious?"

"You're a scary green man from outer space, I get it." She grumbled as she dug through the fridge, grabbing the last soda. "You don't know the first thing about humans."

"WHAT?" Zim was affronted, "My GIR unit is an expert on Humans as per his programming! MINIMOOSE!" He called, waiting for his minion to immediately comply. Sure enough, the purple moose crashed through the kitchen window in a familiar fashion with GIR riding atop him.

"SIR!"

"SQUEAK!"

"GIR, open your information database and pull up native Urth species, human." He commanded. GIR nodded vigorously and opened the top of his head. A nauseating stench emanated from the robot's innards and from it he pulled a very old-looking burrito. 

"Behold a man!" He announced before gobbling the spoiled food in one gross bite. Zim nodded and turned back to the Dib-sister.

"See?"

"I don't have anything for that." She acknowledged in a rare case of not having the upper hand. "Dib was right, you're hopeless." She shook her head, turning back to the living room. Zim opened his mouth to yell when the horrible stench interrupted him again. GIR was scooping tomato paste directly out of the circuitry of his head and was shoveling it in his mouth. 

Perhaps…the GIR he was given wasn't the special model the tallest said.

That idea didn't shock him, not while knowing GIR and not after everything else. He scratched at his cheek as he puzzled about how to proceed. If the sister was right and he truly didn't know enough about humans to conquer them, that would explain a lot. It explained how he kept failing to predict their behavior, and how his experiments kept yielding such scattered data. It explained not only this case of unexplainable human outburst but also the many many many other unexplainable variables in human behavior he'd encountered. He made up his mind with a small nod and whistled for his moose to float to ground level, low enough for him to climb aboard.

Irkens didn't have questions, they had solutions.

0

Dib lay on his bed, exhaustion set in after several therapeutic minutes of screaming into his pillow. Still, he couldn't sleep. The bedroom was unseasonably hot for the fall weather, largely due to the two vents that brought heat directly into his room and his unwillingness to open his door at that particular moment. He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling with no blankets, waiting for sleep and knowing it wasn't coming.

Bam

Oh, come on.

Bam

He sat up from his moping to look out the recently repaired window. Sure enough, the same moose who'd forced the repair before was zooming for his room. With more thought than last time, Dib opened the window before the moose made contact. 

Minimoose gratefully slowed to a gentle glide as he entered the room, depositing his passengers on the windowsill and settling on the dresser amongst Dib's clean clothes. 

"What are you still doing here?" He asked dejectedly to the alien outline in his window. He didn't even have the energy to groan or be sarcastic. He just wanted Zim gone and for the day to end. He felt that in the worst way, just this once, he'd been defeated by the alien.

"I'm…" Zim chose his words carefully. "I wanted to talk to you." He parroted the words Dib had greeted him with at his lowest. Dib recognized the phrase, raising his eyebrows slightly but not having the energy for an actual facial expression. GIR pointed out into the yard as he landed in the window beside his master.

"It's a squirrel!" He said brightly. "I'm gon eat it." And with that, he jumped out of the house and out of Dib's sight.

"I just wanna go to sleep," Dib murmured dejectedly to the alien. Zim's expression wasn't visible in the dim blue light of the nighttime, but he took off his wig, scratching at his scalp.

"Why don't you then?" He asked, not as mocking as Dib would expect. Dib tried to find an answer, not sure what Zim wasn't looking for.

"I can't, I guess."

"Is something stopping you?"

"Yeah," he said bitterly, "You are."

"But I just got here, I wasn't stopping you before." He pointed out. After a tense moment where he seemed to think he added. "Human sleep is not something I understand." Maybe it was because Dib could see his face, but Zim didn't seem to be using the same disgusted tone he usually did when he was talking about human affairs. He sounded almost…apologetic?

"So you want to talk?" Dib tried. "Why?" Zim's silhouette tensed a bit, balling his fists before sitting down on the window sill.

"It's been brought to my attention that my knowledge of humans as a whole is less than thorough." He admitted. "That won't do. Won't doooo." He emphasized quietly and drew out in a low tone. Dib almost smirked at how his strange pattern of speech was still there when he was trying to be quiet. He'd never heard Zim try to be quiet before.

"So…" Dib slicked his hair scythe back, smiling to himself at the absurdity of what he could see was going on. "The tables have turned? You're interrogating me now?"

"Well, to learn about humans I need to observe and question a human and…" he trailed off before regaining his confidence. "You're the only human I know."

Dib thought about it. It made sense that Zim would never willingly contact humans, so the only one he knew is one he had to come into contact with unwillingly. He laid back down, thankful for the cool air from the window but not cool enough to use a blanket.

"Well, this human wants to sleep."

"Fine." Zim spat. "I'll just have to get information from you until then." He relented.

"That's not how it works."

"Then how does it work?" He pressed, clearly determined to ask actual questions for a change. Dib took a breath, listening to the quiet of his room and the small chirping noises of the bugs outside. He opened his eyes and found they'd adjusted enough to make out the outline of Zim's face. Large insect eyes stared at him unblinking. Such a large and frightening bug in his room made the ghost of fear run through him from those few weeks ago that felt like many years.

"You wanna know how sleep works?"

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