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supercorpkid · 4 months ago

Note

Baby Danvers who is Kara's bio little sister sent to earth with Kara in the pod as a baby. Has a crush on Ruby Arias, they bond over being Kryptonian and teenagers not allowed to use their powers in public. Please 🙏

(love your work)

Everything Has Changed.

Supergirl. Baby Danvers. Kara Danvers x Sister!Reader, Alex Danvers x Sister!Reader, Ruby Arias x Reader. Sam Arias.

Word Count: 2310.

"No," Kara repeats, speaking to you as if you were a toddler. "You can't join the track team when you have super speed. You know that."

"You just won't let me do anything!" You scowl, showing your sister how upset you are. Usually, that's all it takes, but when it comes to your powers, Kara never budges.

"Yeah, because it's not fair to other people, Y/N! You have superpowers," Alex chimes in from the kitchen. You roll your eyes, knowing this was bound to happen. The open concept in Kara's apartment really doesn't help when you're trying to have a conversation with just one of them.

"What good are all these powers if I'm not allowed to use them?" You turn on your heel, quickly going to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you. You hear a crack in the wood and curse under your breath.

"If you break another door, you won't get a replacement!" Alex yells, and you grunt in frustration.

God! You break a few things around the house or bump into someone and break their arm on the street a couple of times and now you're treated as a menace! Sure, it doesn't help that your bedroom door looks like it might turn into ashes if you slam it one more time, but most of the time it isn't on purpose.

Do you really want to join the track team? Not necessarily. What you really want is a way to use your powers without Kara and Alex yelling at you. You can't wait until you're an adult.

When you were younger, you couldn't wait to get your powers. When you and Kara crashed on this planet, she was already a teenager, so she immediately got all of them—the flying, super speed, super strength—everything you always wanted. But since you were a baby when you came to Earth, you had to wait until puberty.

Now, you finally have them. You can fly around the world, save people, hear all the gossip at school, and yet your sisters insist that you mustn't use them.

"How did Eliza do it?" Kara asks, and you put your headphones on mute to hear the conversation better. "I seriously don't remember what she used to do when it was me."

"Well, if I remember correctly, it was basically the same," Alex says, and you can't help but roll your eyes again. Perfect Kara Danvers wasn't so perfect after all.

"Eliza was more composed after it, though." Kara takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. You slide your glasses down to look at them moving to the couch. "Did I mess up her life by bringing her to live with me? Eliza said she wanted Y/N to stay there."

"Kara," Alex reaches for Kara's arm, giving it a gentle stroke, "you wanted to bring her here so you could teach her about her powers, to help her feel how normal it is to have them. Besides, you promised your mom you'd take care of her."

"Alex, I know all the reasons, but what if they're not enough? Having me fly around, saving people, using my powers daily, and not being able to use hers—I don't think it's helping as much as I thought it would."

Alex is silent for a moment. "You know, Sam has told me the same thing about Ruby. Maybe we need to get them together, so she can see that even though her experience feels singular, it really isn't."

"That's a good idea, actually." Kara grabs her phone right away. "I'll ask Sam if they're free this weekend. Oh! And Lena can come too."

You smirk — of course Kara would want to bring Lena everywhere.

Kara knocks on your door a while later. You take your headphones off and watch as she slowly approaches, testing the waters. "I'm sorry you can't join the track team. You do understand why, right?"

You sit up in bed and give her a soft, "Yeah" so she knows you're no longer upset. She sits in front of you, grabbing one of your stuffed animals on the bed so she has something to do with her hands.

It takes a couple of seconds and a long breath from her to add, "I love you, baby. I'm just trying to protect you." Kara blinks at you, and you can see how sad she is about fighting with you all the time.

It's not fair that she had to take care of you all your life. Sure, Eliza was an incredible mother figure to both of you, but Kara is 13 years older than you, and she promised your mom she'd care for you when Alura put you both in that pod. And that's what she's done her entire life. She fed you, changed you, taught you both English and Kryptonese, told you about your planet, and showed you its place in the sky. She's the blood relative who truly raised you (sorry, Kal, but it's true).

As soon as she graduated from college and got a job, she brought you to National City to live with her. Eliza wasn't happy about it, but you were over the moon. You'd never say this out loud, but deep down you know Kara is your mom. Not Alura, not Eliza, not even Alex (though she sometimes feels like one). Kara cradled your baby self in her arms all those years ago, and she has yet to let go.

You throw yourself into her arms, hugging her with all your strength, grateful you can't hurt her with it. "I know. I'm sorry." Tears threaten to leave your eyes, and you swallow them. "Kar, I – I know you're doing more than you should as a sister. And so I don't want to be a burden to you."

"You are not a burden!" She squeezes you tighter. "You could never be a burden, little one. You are my whole world." Kara holds your face between her hands, her eyes full of tears, and when you look at her, you know exactly why. "You are the most important person to me in any universe. That's why I don't want you in any kind of danger."

"I know, but I just want to make you proud."

"Oh, baby. I couldn't be prouder of the girl you are, trust me. But we still need some rules about using your powers. You're all I have left," she reassures you.

"I mean, did I die at some point?" Alex asks, leaning against the doorway.

You smile. "Pretty sure you're a ghost, and this house is haunted, yeah."

Alex opens her arms and joins the hug. "You'll have a nice weekend with Ruby and will stop breaking the doors, right?"

You crack a smirk. "I'll try. No promises."

They let you fly to Metropolis, and you appreciate it, even if it's just a less-than-five-minute flight. You get to carry Alex, while Kara carries Lena—because, of course, Lena was coming.

You've met Sam before, though you don’t remember much about it. However, you’re sure you’ve never met Ruby. Usually, you dislike when people dictate who you should or shouldn’t be friends with, but that changes when you meet Ruby.

You love her excitement about things, which mirrors your own enthusiasm, often dimmed by other teenagers who want to look cool. Ruby is nice, has superpowers, and is best friends with her mom (which is similar to your relationship with your older sisters). So when Sam says you’ll have to share a room with Ruby, you’re thrilled.

It's refreshing to have someone you can confide in about your powers, your frustration with not being able to use them freely, and how much you love your sisters despite their misunderstandings.

"I know! Like, okay, I get it. I can't use my powers to gain an advantage in life, but maybe I want to play volleyball!"

"Or join the track team!" You agree, pointing at her. Ruby’s smile widens, and you stare up at her from your spot on the sleeping bag on the floor.

"And honestly, she gets so mad when I break something, like it’s my fault I have super strength." Ruby makes space for you in bed and invites you up with a gesture. You promptly sit in front of her without a word, too preoccupied with your complaints to talk.

"And yes, I understand it's hard to explain why my door keeps breaking, but I’m a teenager! I’m supposed to slam doors behind me."

Ruby laughs in agreement. "It probably doesn’t help when I break things at school, though."

"One time I stopped suddenly in P.E. class, and a kid running behind me ran into me. He broke his nose. I didn’t even move." You give her a sheepish smile. "That was hard to explain."

"That’s nothing! We were playing dodgeball, and I sent someone flying across the room." Your eyes widen at the image. "I was banned from P.E. for weeks, and everyone started calling me 'Wonder Chick.'"

"Uh," You smile. "Did you tell them they got the planets mixed up?"

"Tried to. Mom wouldn’t let me."

You laugh loudly, and although Ruby laughs too, she shushes you so none of the adults come to check on you.

You talk all night, and as the hours pass, the connection between you deepens. You can’t believe how easy it is to open up to Ruby, sharing things you’ve never felt comfortable saying before. After showing her where Krypton would have been if it still existed and teaching her a few Kryptonian words, you both lie side by side on the roof, gazing at the early morning sky.

The sun rises, casting an orange glow that makes Ruby's chestnut eyes shine even more than when she’s telling a story. You think it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Her eyes feel like coming home.

The conversation eventually slows, and a comfortable silence settles between you. You’re both exhausted, but there’s a sense of peace that neither of you wants to break.

“I’m really glad I came here,” you murmur, your eyes heavy with sleep.

"Yeah," She scoots a little closer. "I’m really glad you came too. I’ve never met anyone who understands me so much."

"I know! Same." You bite your lower lip, looking at Ruby's lips. "I think you might be one of my favorite people already." Your cheeks flush when you realize what you just said. "Is that weird?"

"No." She shakes her head, eyes flicking between your eyes and lips. "It can’t be weird to meet your soulmate."

Soulmate? Oh.

"May I ask what you two are doing out here?" Kara’s voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin.

"Shit." You place a hand on your chest, checking if it’s still there. "Kara! You scared us!"

"You two should be in bed!" You open your mouth to argue, but your sister cuts you off. "Come on, go get some sleep. You guys can talk more before we have to leave."

Your face drops at the thought of leaving, and you see the same sadness on Ruby’s face when Kara’s eyes soften. "You guys will see each other again. Rao, why are teenagers so dramatic?" When she doesn’t see you moving, she adds, "Bed! Now!"

You obey her orders, Ruby slipping into bed and you into the uncomfortable sleeping bag on the floor. You drift off quickly, a sense of contentment washing over you. Despite only getting a couple of hours of sleep, you don’t regret it one bit.

"Ruby! Y/N! Come down for breakfast!" Sam calls from downstairs. Even though more sleep sounds tempting, breakfast sounds even better. You both rush to the kitchen.

"Oh, cool sweater, by the way!" Ruby points at the "Power to the Girls" slogan, and you beam.

"Thanks," Kara’s voice comes from the couch. You can see her snuggled up with a mug and Lena, but she’s not looking at you. "It’s mine. And no, I didn’t let her borrow it."

You glance down at the sweater. "It was mixed with my laundry. I thought you’d given it to me!"

"Nice try." Her voice comes a second later. "Stop stealing my clothes."

You shrug. "I tried."

The rest of the day passes in a dreamlike haze. You find yourself wishing your sisters had thought of this sooner, but you’re incredibly grateful they finally did. Meeting Ruby, your soulmate, has changed everything. For the first time, you don’t feel so alone with your powers. You have someone who truly understands you.

When it’s time to say goodbye, you feel a pang of sadness, but you know this isn’t the end.

"You’ll come visit next weekend, right?" You ask again, even though both Sam and Ruby have reassured you several times.

"Yeah. And you’ll text before that, right?"

"As soon as I get home!" You smile proudly. "So in like, five minutes."

"Cool."

You can’t suppress your smile as you look at her one last time before taking flight. "Cool."

As you fly back home, you feel a sense of peace you hadn’t expected. Meeting Ruby is one of the best things that has happened in your life, and you’re already certain of it. Maybe your sisters are right about some things, but that doesn’t mean you’re alone. You now have Ruby, someone who understands you like no one else ever will.

You: Photo �� You: Guess what? It turns out you can break doors when you're too happy too! Rubes: Love the pic. Alex looks thrilled 😆 Rubes: Please get a new one before I visit.

You smile at your phone. For the first time in a long while, you feel that things are going to be okay. Your life isn’t as bad as you thought. In fact, it might just be pretty great.

#supergirl #kara danvers #alex danvers #reader insert #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl imagine #baby danvers #ruby arias

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falling-star-cygnus · 5 months ago

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This isn't really angst but I want to share this idea with you anyways, Nicole and Anby get sick, like really sick, so Billy and Nekomata take care of them, Nekomata goes out to get medicine for Anby and Nicole so Billy does some nice things for them while waiting for Nekomata to come back, like putting a cold towel on their heads and making chicken noodle soup for them, and when doing this he gets to hear some muttered apologies from Anby and Nicole about the way they treat him

AHHH THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA -> i'm on it o^o7

posts might slow down for a little bit, but I'll definitely try and knock out what's already been sent in as speedily as possible while ensuring [hopefully] good quality :D

the other format i tried out didn't necessarily do bad, but i think i'll stick to this one after all. since i created the Master List at long last uWu

"Hey, Manager," Billy says into Nicole's phone, trying to keep his voice as unassuming as possible, "Boss won't be able to make it to your hangout today."

"Oh no!" Belle immediately frets on the other end, "What's going on? Is she okay?"

Well. The goal was not to make her worry. Damnit.

Objective failed.

"She's okay. Her and Anby just came down with a... pretty brutal fever, if I'm being honest. They should be fine in a few days, though at max!"

Hopefully. Billy had heard stories about humans with sickly immune systems that... didn't always survive a fever. The stories had never scared him before but...

"Kitty's out getting some medicine for them right now," the android forces himself to continue, lest he dwell on that too long, "And I'm staying here to make sure their temperatures don't get too high."

That's what you were supposed to do when humans got sick, right? He was kind of just basing everything off Nekomata's experience and one episode of the Starlight Knights where two characters- who should be love interests but weren't- got stranded together on a desert planet and one of them had to take care of the other. But the other wasn't really human or anything- so it was kind of an unreliable source of information.

So he also did a quick google search.

"That's great, Billy," Belle's gentle voice brings him back to the present conversation, "Sounds like they're in very capable hands then. My mind is put at ease."

....oh!

That was nice to hear. That she believed in him.

"Do- do you have any suggestions?" the android ventures, figuring it couldn't really hurt, "I mean- I can totally take care of them on my own, but- surely the legendary, all-knowing Phaethon might have some advice for a plain piece of scrap metal like me...?"

Perfect save.

In the end, Belle doesn't really tell him anything that he didn't already get from Nekomata or from the computer the Hares' all shared. Cold towels, warm soup that's easy on the throat, and lots of rest.

The two Demara's were laid up in one room to prevent contaminating Nekomata. Or him, too, but the only way the android could get sick was via computer virus.

Which- they all learned the hard way. That was not a pleasant experience, nor one he was eager to repeat... but he would if it meant Nicole and Anby could recover faster.

With no time to sit on his thoughts, Billy replaces the cloths on their heads with all the gentleness he can muster. He must- at least- be doing something right, because the two already look more peaceful than they had before the call with the Proxy.

"Mm.. m'sorry.." he thinks he hears Nicole mutter.

Bad dream? He ponders, hastily striding over to fix the towel across her forehead. Maybe she was dreaming of the time Eous shut off in the Hollow and they had thought about turning them in.

Or- Billy had suggested turning them in.

Twasn't his proudest moment. He sincerely hoped Phaethon never found out about that-

"...m'sorry," she mutters again, turning onto her side with a furrowed brow, "..sorry.. Billy.. for yelng' all th'time. You're a good android. Good fr'nd. 'n I... dn't say it... nuff."

...

If he had been built for crying, Billy was sure he'd be making a mess of his faceplate right now.

The things his family team does to him... he was going soft.

As the android fixes both the Demara's towels, as he helps prop them up and spoon feed the delirious duo medicine and soup, and as he tucks them back in for a nice long nap, privately he thinks...

Maybe that's not such a bad thing.

#y'all if you get the vague reference i made my life is yours #this one's a little shorter.. buuut hopefully the content makes up for it?#zenless zone zero #zzz #zzzero #zzz fanfic #zzz billy #billy kid #billy kid zzz #billy zzz #nicole zzz #nicole demara #anby demara #zzz anby #cunning hares #found family #nekomata #the ramblings of a fallen star

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notmorbid · 2 months ago

Text

twin peaks: season 1.

dialogue prompts from season one of twin peaks.

is this going to happen every damn time?

now means now.

i thought the only time you cared about was making time.

i'll see you in my dreams.

don't do anything i wouldn't do.

come on, cowboy, light your fire.

i thought i was your little pick-me-up.

quit worrying and start scurrying.

nice day for a picnic.

don't walk away from me like that.

you're not telling anybody anything.

buy you a coffee?

i've never seen so many trees in my life.

have any trouble finding the place?

the whole town's really badly shaken up.

what kind of fantastic trees have you got growing around here?

i told you i had a feeling we'd see ___ again.

you gonna let me in on whatever the hell is going on here?

don't tell me where i ought to be.

muffle it, junior.

i'm not your friend.

i sure know how to pick 'em, huh?

i don't need any damn sympathetic anything.

is there some law against having a picnic?

who are you protecting?

what kind of cigarettes do you smoke?

you're not drinking and driving, are you?

the best-laid plans of mice and men...

don't do it for me. do it for yourself.

there's liable to be a little trouble this evening.

you want me to follow at a discreet distance?

i changed my mind. i'm not sorry.

do your palms ever itch?

who would do a thing like that?

guess why i'm so happy today.

you woke us crying in your sleep last night.

if we tell the truth, we don't have to get our stories straight.

we got places to go and people to see.

i think now i understand how you feel about ____.

don't drink that coffee! you'd never guess: there was a fish in the percolator.

don't 'sweetheart' me, you old dog.

i respect your rebellious nature.

the quieter we become, the more we hear.

you think you got problems?

let's get the hell out of here.

i was up all night working on that invention.

you cannot come by here like this.

it's not the first time and it won't be the last, but i'm in that doghouse again.

god, i love this music.

i've seen some slipshod, backwater burgs, but this place takes the cake.

you don't know what you've done for me.

i told them you were on your world tour and they should contact your press agent.

get your boots off my bed and go to your room.

what is going on in this house?

i mean it like it is. as it sounds.

when i saw the face of god, i was changed.

let's rock.

where we're from, the birds sing a pretty song, and there's music in the air.

thank you for talking to me.

let me tell you about the dream i had last night.

do you know where dreams come from?

i've got compassion running out of my nose, pal.

stupidity is not a necessarily inherent trait.

i do not suffer fools gladly, and fools with badges, never.

the old rustic sucker punch, huh?

in ceremony begins understanding.

don't be afraid. we will all be there together.

sounds like you've been snacking on some of the local mushrooms.

what are you looking at? what are you waiting for?

you damn hypocrites make me sick.

save your prayers. ___ would have laughed at them, anyway.

this must be where pies go when they die.

there's something evil out there. something very, very strange in these old woods.

something horrible is going to happen.

they want to hurt me. i know it.

be a man about it. ask me to my face.

i'm a terrible person. i pretend that i'm not, but i am.

people think of me as their friend. the truth is, i really don't care.

nothing is going to happen to you. not now, not ever. not while i'm around.

do you believe in the soul?

you always said you could never tell us apart.

in real life there is no algebra.

maybe you should run away and join the circus.

i swear on my life, i have changed.

the shortest distance between two points is not necessarily a straight line.

not too many secrets left around here.

i've got one man too many in my life, and i'm married to him.

there isn't all the time in the world. i see that now.

to be perfectly honest, i'm tired and a little on edge.

i can't believe you were ever my age.

i have to put gas in my car like everyone else.

maybe that's our trouble. we never want to hurt anyone. we never just take what we want.

i got your note. are you alright?

you little fruit loop.

they move so slowly when they're not afraid.

i've got tea, i've got cookies. no cake.

shut your eyes and you'll burst into flames.

fire is the devil, hiding like a coward in the smoke.

you're not going to hurt me again.

what you need right now, more than anything else, is a friend.

secrets are dangerous things.

i don't appreciate your attitude.

i'm a little better at faces than names, i guess.

you think people really change?

every day, once a day, give yourself a present.

mother always said i was born lucky.

no names. you don't offer and you don't ask.

there used to be something caring between us.

i never should have taken you up to that house on the hill.

if somewhere under all that scar tissue there's the faintest flicker of what we used to feel for each other, i'm asking you to feel that now.

given what i've become and the way i've treated people, there's no one else i can turn to.

i can't blame you for dreaming.

i always talk too big. that's my biggest fault.

what kind of dangerous game have you been playing?

#rp memes #rp meme #ask memes #inbox memes #sentence starters #inbox meme #tv meme #horror meme

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nartml · 1 year ago

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Your misogyny is showing. Get your shit together

(First and last time I'll ever bother with such a rude ask, but I'll use this oh so sugary sweet statement to get some things out the way )

CW: Rant ahead, not Sakura or Hinata friendly, if you disagree and won't be nice about sharing your opinions fucking DNI, this isn't for you.

My misogyny 💀

Because I don't like Sakura and Hinata, I assume? Why is it always misogyny's fault with y'all?

Respectfully, I don't really care about Sakura and Hinata. I'm mostly indifferent to them, but they're fun to criticize, considering there's so many flaws to talk about.

Maybe I was harsh with my words when respectively bashing them, but what I said still objectively stands. Sometimes, not liking a female character has less to do with misogyny and more to do with the fact that they're really, really not that good.

But alas, I sincerely apologize for my just so disgustingly misogynistic words (in case you don't get it, I'm being 100% sarcastic)

In a bit less harsh, more analytical manner, allow me to rephrase:

Sakura is someone who doesn't fit in the Shinobi world. She's too delusional about her romantic fantasies regarding Sasuke to be able to properly advance in such a harsh environment. And Hinata, with or without her infatuation with Naruto, is an incapable kunoichi. She's far too timid and hesitant to be a warrior.

Now, those are not necessarily bad things. Not having what it takes to be a Shinobi can easily be considered positive; be it because you're a hopeless romantic and that hinders your ability to maximize your potential or because you just don't have the spine or endurance necessary to be a badass ninja. Those aren't reasons to violently hate on someone. Specifically about Sakura and Hinata, those aren't even the reasons why so many people dislike them.

Or at least I hope not. I'd understand the point of your ask better if I had said anything derogatory about their appearance, for example. Those types of haters are annoying, and I manage to turn into both Sakura and Hinata's biggest defenders the moment someone says shit that degrades Sakura for her chest or some other bs, and/or fetishizes Hinata in any way. Rest assured, I'm anything but misogynistic.

But oh shit, it's time we realized that Sakura's "feelings" for Sasuke were simply a shallow school girl crush. And that would've been okay, understandable, maybe even a little cute, if it weren't for the way she constantly pushed herself onto him, consistently referred to him as hers in her head, saw him as a trophy, a blank canvas to project her fantasies onto. She was disrespectful, and her confessions were sickening.

Because how dare you compare your loneliness to that of a genocide survivor? How could you make your supposed love's pain all about you? How could you be so ready to abandon your friends, family, life, and future just to follow him to someone who you know would cause him harm, when you so clearly don't even know or understand him? How could you try to minimize everything he went through, try to diminish all he's suffered in the name of "laughing and having fun like the good old times"? "What about me, Sasuke? I'll be in so much pain if you leave. Please, if there's even a small part of you that cares about me, stay". "I can't get close to you, I can't exchange blows with you, I can only whine and beg, it's pretty pathetic. There's nothing I can do for you".

These are all things she's said and/or done paraphrased. There's so much more I don't care to recall. And they're all very annoying.

Her sole motivation was Sasuke; he's the reason she talks about how she'll get stronger to catch up to him and Naruto, about how she wants to "save" him, or "protect" him, about how she wants to be able to "fight for herself next time".

But she never managed to really do any of it, because it was all so surface level. Her aspirations for life began and ended with Sasuke, a guy she ultimately doesn't know a single thing about. That's objectively pathetic.

I don't like her because of the way she treats Sasuke, because of the way she views him, because of the way she's so pretentious about her "undying love" for him.

I don't like anti-sasusakus who come at it from a "Sakura deserves better" perspective, because she got exactly what she asked for; now she even gets to parade around wearing that Uchiha crest like the trophy it is to her, while having done nothing to earn it!!!

But.

Honestly? They're not exactly wrong. Maybe she doesn't deserve better. But her character would, at least if Kishimoto even wanted to write that story.

What do I mean by that? I mean that Sakura, as a main character, does not benefit from her feelings for Sasuke. It's not that Sasuke isn't good for her, it's that her "feelings" for him aren't.

I'll use Naruto as a comparison. His feelings for Sasuke [No, I don't care how you interpret their relationship. If you want, they can be platonic feelings or familial feelings (you'd be wrong but who am I to judge), or romantic feelings] actually serve as his basis for self improvement.

Usually, in media, love is something that drives characters to be better.

Naruto's love for Sasuke is his greatest strength.

Naruto kept getting stronger, with Sasuke as his motivator. Naruto kept trying to understand him, to see things from his perspective, never held any sort of idealistic "Sasuke would never do that" train of thought.

Naruto got to better understand the injustice of the system through Sasuke and his love for him. Naruto initially fought to bring him back to Konoha, not because he wanted to play house with him, or because he wanted Sasuke to cater to Konoha's every whim, but because in Naruto's mind, Konoha is home and it's safe, away from Orochimaru's dirty hands.

But then once he finally understood Sasuke better, once they fought and he carried Sasuke's burdensome hatred with him, he let him go. He let him travel, leave Konoha, without ever asking for him to stay, because he gets it (Unlike Sakura, who still didn't get it, and did the exact opposite)

In Sakura's case, however, her "feelings" for Sasuke hold her back. Though that's a bit of conundrum, seeing as any sort of achievements she's made are directly linked back to her crush. Like I said before, he's her motive. No, it's specifically the shallowness of her love, the half-heartedness in her convictions to improve that holds her back. Her "feelings" aren't as genuine as she –or any of you– likes to think they are, and that keeps her from growing, from seeing clearly (i.e: in the long run, they hold her back)

They're proof of her superficiality. She's too caught up in romanticizing the absolute shit out of Sasuke, too caught up in using him to live out her fairytale dreams, too caught up in asking others to bring him back to her, or whatever. She's too caught up in whether Sasuke looks at her or worries about her to fight properly. And I mean "fight" both literally and metaphorically here.

So yeah, her "feelings" for him aren't good for her. It would've been a much better character arc, in my opinion, something that could be actually empowering that would give her depth, if she had ended up with Lee instead.

Because Lee is the exact opposite of Sasuke, in the sense that he's ugly in Sakura's eyes (I'll state here that I don't think Lee is ugly, bushy brows and all, he's very pretty to me), and so to end up with him, well. That would require Sakura to see past physical appearance.

Sakura tends to be very judgemental of other people's looks, and the way she treats them is often correlated to how beautiful she finds them.

But falling for Lee would've been a great way for her to move past the cover and read the book. Something which could then translate to her being less insensitive and judgy from then on.

[Sakura fans love to point out that she might say rude stuff, but then she regrets it, so it's okay! To that I say, it hardly matters that you regret something you say and promise that you'll be better, if you're just going to repeat the process the next day]

That said, she didn't even have to end up with anyone. She could've remained single, after realizing how wrong she was about Sasuke. She could've stopped pining after him, and gotten herself a goal that is bigger than just ending up with him.

But that's not who she is. That's actually, an entirely different character. That's not how Kishimoto wrote her, and criticizing him because of that is stupid. He knew what and why he was doing it, and the narrative some of you adopt, the one that goes "no, I'm better than so-and-so, this character should've been that way instead", is exhausting.

Sakura fans never represent her how she canonically is. Truly, 100%, the way she's depicted in the show. They nitpick which parts of her they like, and ignore the rest. You guys love the version of her that isn't shallow, that understands Sasuke, that is assertive, that is 3-dimensional; a person whose hard work actually comes to mean something, who is much more genuine about her love for Sasuke, who is by all means an independent badass. The Sakura who is selfless and understanding and a go-getter badass. And that's okay, I guess. But at least admit it.

It's always an outsider commenting on how "she's better than Tsunade" because they saw her punch one time, or "her feelings for you have matured" (something cancelled out entirely by Sakura later). It's always "I've caught up to them" after something that amounts to nothing significant. We're told she's great. We've yet to see it for ourselves, outside of those five? Six maybe? Eight is my being generous. Truly iconic scenes that she has in the entirety of the manga.

I stand by my closing line on her post.

She's foolish, and too caught up in her own romantic, fantasy world to substantially thrive in a reality as cold-blooded as the one she was born in.

And that's all she'll ever be.

As for my girl Hinata. I absolutely stand by everything I said on that post. Not taking a single word back. Maybe Sakura has a few redeeming qualities; like I said, you could explore her character outside of her crush on Sasuke and make a true badass out of her. (While still acknowledging the fact that that's not who Kishimoto wrote her to be)

But Hinata? There's no character to explore. Period. She's nice. Sweet. Kind, maybe? Sweet. Did I mention nice? I should probably not forget to say that she's sweet. Let's not omit that she's privileged and doesn't care one bit that her family is a-okay with slavery!! OH, and she can cook well. She also has those big boobs. And all her symbolism with Naruto was ripped off sns, coincidentally.

She's very passively likable, and the definition of forgettable. Like it or not.

____________________________________________

As for me, I should make it clear here and now that I am no misogynist. I like to think of myself as a very passionate intersectional feminist, who gives credit where it's due.

These two ladies? They don't deserve the aforementioned credit.

Have a great day 💞

#anti sakura fandom #anti ss #anti the last #sns #anti hinata #anti sakura haruno #anti sasusaku #anti naruhina #anti nh #naruto ramblings #my stuff #y'all need to get yourselves some of those shiny critical thinking skills #they're very useful #respectfully fuck off 💕💕#long post #pro sasuke #pro sasuke uchiha #anon #my anti ss agenda

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mydetheturk · 1 year ago

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Title: I Don't Want You to Leave (Will You Hold My Hand?) Author: mydetheturk Rating: T+, bordering on M,so we'll call it M for uh. mildly graphic depictions of how much pain Vash is in. Word Count: 6,730 Warnings: Vash spends a lot of time in pain in this one, Vash has Chronic Pain and it messes with his head, There's a handful of implied and understated "wolfwood has been fucked up" moments as well. If there's anything else I probably should have warned about, let me know and I'll update the post.

Summary: Vash knows, intimately, when the seasons change and there are going to be storms. He tries to avoid being in places where the seasonal lightning storms can turn into water storms, but he isn't always successful. He's lucky this year, in that he has people who care so much about him.

Author's Note: This would normally be going up on AO3, but I'm still waiting for our wife (AO3) to return from the war (Dealing with the DDoS attack), so y'all get to read it here on tumblr. (and if i have to, i will make a dreamwidth/unearth my fanfiction.net account so its a little easier to read. You'll be updated on that.)

This is for @mashwoodweek's Day Two! the prompt I chose was "Seasons," the title is from Sam Smith's "Stay With Me" (feat. Mary J. Bilge).

Enjoy.

~~~

Seasons don't truly exist on No Man's Land. It's hot year round, but people argue about which times of year are worse. Hot, hotter, lightning, and sandstorm are the generally accepted "seasons,” if one deigns to use the term at all. It's easy to track the passing of the days through the weeks and the months, so long as one can track them. Vash has long since given up on tracking individual days, letting the sands wash over him in an endless loop. It's easier for him to notice when the seasons shift; not necessarily between hot and hotter, but between those and the times of the year when lightning and sandstorms are more common.

His body aches, between his prosthetic and all of the scars and metal plates and how he's missing the cartilage in one of his knees. Vash has noticed Meryl gets snippy when the rare storm has rolled in during the off-season, and this is his first lightning season with Meryl and Wolfwood together.

(Right after Wolfwood found him again didn't count – the season was almost over by that point and Vash's memories of them before July were shattered into pieces. The season after is the hottest part of the year, where Vash learned exactly how far Wolfwood pushes himself, even in the heat, to keep Vash and Meryl safe and alive. The sound of a glass ampule shattering is one that haunts Vash in his dreams, when he dreams.)

So Vash knows, intimately, when storms will be rolling in, sand or lightning. He suspects Meryl knows too, can see the pinching of her brow and the way she rubs at her eyes, even if she often doesn't quite realize it until it's too late.

“There's a storm coming,” Vash says, staring out the window of the truck. There's not a cloud in the sky, but Vash knows. There's a pressure in the air that wasn't quite there an hour ago, a hint of something in the way the sands roll off the endless dunes.

Wolfwood sits up, scanning the horizon. “You sure?” he asks. His tone isn't quite disbelieving, because he knows, even more intimately than Meryl, what Vash is. (Vash had spooked him once, bolting upright from a nightmare of July. Wolfwood had been twitching in his sleep, and Vash had hovered his hand over Wolfwood's shoulder, and Wolfwood had woken. Vash's speed had been the only thing to save him from a barely-conscious Wolfwood lashing out. When Vash tried to question him about it, Wolfwood had looked at him with haunted eyes and said he looked like Knives. Vash has never asked, and he probably won't, but he avoids looking at himself in the mirror for a reason.)

“Yes,” Vash states.

Meryl nods. “Alright. Should we push on to the next town or do you guys think we should find a place to hunker down?” She's already got the pinched look in the corners of her eyes, just visible behind her sunglasses.

Vash's knee, the one missing its cartilage, is the first thing to hurt when lightning storms roll through. He taps his fingers against it, thinking while Wolfwood grabs the map and does some math.

“It'll probably be another day or so before it hits this area,” Vash says. The pain will radiate outwards, and the deepest scars will start hurting next. “A town would be nice.”

Meryl's grip tightens minutely on the steering wheel. Wolfwood moves his fingers against the map, picking out coordinates.

“I think we might make it to the next town before then,” Wolfwood says. “If we drive through the night.”

Meryl bares her teeth at the windshield and Vash grimaces. He can't drive, and if he's timed it right, by the time the suns set and night has fallen, Meryl won't be able to any more.

“Don't give me that, Shortstack, Blondie. I can drive.”

“Last time you drove you crashed the truck!” Meryl snaps back.

“How was I supposed to know fucking Zazie was going to show up like that! I don't control the shit they do!” Wolfwood protests.

Meryl slows the truck to a stop and throws it in park so she can bang her head against the wheel a couple of times.

"Ah! Meryl!” Vash leans forward and pulls her back from the wheel, readjusting her sunglasses.

"Fine. Nick can drive. Don't crash the truck,” Meryl says. She's making a face like she thinks she's going to regret letting Wolfwood drive.

"We'll pull over at sunsdown and make the switch then, yeah?” Vash suggests. Meryl sighs and gets the truck started again. She nods, though, a frown on her lips and her brows furrowed. She doesn't mind when Wolfwood drives the bike, but he's the only one of the three who can glide Angelina between the dunes with both Vash and Meryl, the sidecar, and the Punisher at once and not crash her. But the truck is her baby, was Roberto’s before July. It’s one of the few things she has left of her mentor.

“Works for me.” Wolfwood settles in to nap until sunsdown, his (Vash's old) sunglasses shading his eyes. His breathing evens out, steadies as he drifts into sleep until Meryl will come to a stop in a few hours.

“Go until you need to rest, yeah?” Vash says quietly, once he's reasonably sure Wolfwood's out for the afternoon. “Don't push yourself too hard. If we have to stop sooner, we can.”

“It's fine, Vash,” Meryl says. She smiles at him in the rear view. “If we come across a way station, we can make the switch there. Sound good?”

Vash nods. “Yeah. Sounds good.”

Clouds start drifting across the sky as they drive on. The ache in Vash's bones slowly starts to deepen, and he makes a hissing noise when Meryl hits a particularly rough patch of rock and sand.

”Sorry,” she says, eyes soft in the mirror.

”It's fine,” Vash replies. It's not as bad as it could be – not as bad as it will be, in just a few more hours time. Human painkillers don't have much of an effect on him, only make him irritable and paranoid. The only thing that really kills the pain is heat, whether that be from a soak in a hot bath or from being trapped under blankets by Meryl and Wolfwood. Mostly from Wolfwood, if Vash is honest with himself – something about the experiments Wolfwood has gone through leave him burning hotter than the average human. Not as hot as Vash should run, nor as hot as one of Vash's sisters, but far warmer than Meryl.

Another hour passes, the suns starting to settle low in the sky. A way station sits on the horizon, and Meryl angles the truck for it.

”Careful waking him,” she says. Like Vash needs the warning.

Vash places his hand on Wolfwood's shoulder, slowly adding pressure. Wolfwood wakes with a jolt anyway. He doesn't come up swinging, the way he has in the past, but he does startle, smacking his head against the window.

Vash pulls his hand back, murmuring quietly. “We're in the truck, Wolfwood. We're coming up to a way station.”

It still takes a moment for Wolfwood to blink himself fully conscious. There'd been an incident while Vash was Eriks, one that neither Wolfwood nor Meryl would talk about. Meryl because she doesn't know the details, and Wolfwood because even now he holds his cards close to his chest. There's something different about the ampules that Wolfwood still doesn't talk about. Vash hasn't had the heart to take one and crack it open to inspect it.

Wolfwood sleeps deeper now, though, if he thinks he's somewhere the Eye can't touch.

So, the truck, mostly.

“How late's it?” Wolfwood asks. His voice is a little slurred, raspy with sleep.

Vash smiles, glancing at Meryl in the mirror and seeing her eyes crinkle with her own smile. “The parent sun should set here in about an hour.”

Wolfwood hums, stretches out. His back crackles against the seat. “Great. Could use a bit to walk around.”

“Another couple minutes,” Meryl says in the front seat. She presses the fingers of one hand to her eye and smooths out her brow. From the one movement alone, Vash knows Meryl's starting to feel the shift in pressure. He can feel it in his stump now as well.

Wolfwood is fully awake by the time they pull in at the way station, Meryl pulling the truck up to a charger. It's got enough to get them to the next town, but it's always good to recharge the truck when they find a way station.

“Gonna take a bit,” Meryl says. “Wanna get some supplies while we're here?”

“We should probably get dinner so Wolfwood doesn't have to catch us some worms again,” Vash teases. Meryl makes a face that Wolfwood snickers at while he lights up a cigarette.

His deep sigh at the first inhale pokes something brittle in Vash's heart. Smoke filters away from Wolfwood as he goes from the truck to the little store of the way station. Vash catches that he'd grabbed their canteens to refill while inside. Its sweet of him to remember.

Meryl stretches out and makes her way inside as well, while Vash watches them both.

He loves them. They love him, refuse to leave his side despite everything.

With a soft smile, Vash pours himself out of the truck. There's an ache in his hips that he hadn't realized had started up, and he stumbles slightly. They're the only ones at the way station right now, and Vash is glad for the lack of witnesses to his fumble.

The sooner they can get to a town with an inn, the better.

Inside, Vash finds Meryl and Wolfwood debating the merits of the various shelf stable and easily snackable foods in the way station's shelves. They're doing it surprisingly quietly for them; he's used to them being much louder about it. Wolfwood's the one with a basket in hand; the canteens have been slung over Meryl's shoulders. The way she's walking, Wolfwood must have filled them first thing.

Good man.

Vash drapes himself over Wolfwood's back and makes a noise deep in his chest. Wolfwood absently reaches back and pets Vash's hair as he continues to debate with Meryl.

“I'm telling you, the red ones taste better,” he says. He's holding a pack of gummy candy. It looks like straws, and there's a little bit of something crystallized on the outside.

“They're too sweet,” Meryl responds. “The black ones are better.”

“You think I like that bitter crap?” Wolfwood makes a face, his nose crinkling cutely.

Vash reaches around and grabs a handful of both types to inspect them. The red ones are coated in sugar crystals, but the black ones have salt on them. He didn't think anywhere outside Sanforrd made the black ones like that.

“I like them both,” he says.

Both of them stare at Vash. They're still not used to him expressing the things he likes and doesn't like. Meryl lights up though, and Wolfwood softens under Vash's weight.

“We'll get some of both, then,” Meryl decides. She grabs a small bag and scoops a handful of black straws into it, handing it to Vash, who drops his own into the bag as well. She does the same with the red ones, and Vash hands the bag to Wolfwood, who clutches the bag tightly. “We should grab more suckers too, Nick,” Meryl points out.

“Way ahead of you, shortie,” Wolfwood says. He's already moving to grab another bag to stick suckers in. Vash lets him drift away.

Vash has noticed as they've traveled together that Wolfwood doesn't like bitter things – he prefers sweet, and prefers sour to sweet, even. Meryl is the one that likes bitter foods despite how the taste makes her nose crinkle. She's cute like that.

They continue drifting through the way station, all three of them idly watched by the station's manager behind the counter. Vash enjoys watching Meryl and Wolfwood debate. He really doesn't have many preferences, other than the occasional head shake when one of them presents something for his opinion. Most of the proteins are repackaged worm or thoma, and Vash doesn't care which he gets, when he's eating. He does prefer thoma jerky, however, and he's pleased to see that one of them has placed a couple of packages in the basket for him. Meryl's the pickiest eater of the three of them, but it's alright. Vash also doesn't see the point of snatching worm larva from the air and crunching on it raw.

He'll leave that to Wolfwood.

The truck is long-charged by the time they finish in the way station, laden down with enough to keep them going through the night and into the next day if they have to. Vash sets their prizes down in the back seat, Wolfwood’s bag of suckers and gummy red sticks in the front while Wolfwood inspects the truck and Meryl unhooks it from the charging station. Vash is riding in the back; the passenger’s seat won’t give him enough room to stretch out properly.

Meryl keeps touching her face and smoothing out her eyebrows absently. Vash can feel the ache in his bones and he keeps having to dodge Wolfwood's concerned looks. Meryl hasn't caught on just yet, but Wolfwood has. Vash watched the way his brows twitched and his eyes narrowed when he put all the pieces together.

Wolfwood knows. From what Vash has seen, Wolfwood doesn't get the aches from lightning storms, the rare one or two that've occurred outside the season. Sandstorms get him down, putting his hackles up and making him more leery of everything around him. Vash isn't quite sure if it's his body aching or if it's the sound of sand blowing against everything, but the sandstorm season they've spent together already has Vash's heart aching for him.

“Who wants shotgun?” Wolfwood asks, sliding into the driver's seat of the truck. “Or are you both holing up in the back?” He grumbles a bit as he adjusts the seat. “Jesus, Shortstack, how do you even fit in here?”

“Not all of us have legs a mile long, Nick,” Meryl deadpans. She's smirking a little though. She likes how long Wolfwood's legs are. She likes draping herself over them when they all share a bed before they actually turn in for the night, if they've found a motel to crash at.

Meryl would drape herself all over Vash's legs too, but she claims he's too bony in the joints. Vash is longer and slightly broader in the shoulders than Wolfwood, but Wolfwood does have more mass. Vash has conceded the point.

She climbs into the back with Vash today, though, scooting into the middle and up against Vash's side.

“Drive, chauffeur,” Meryl says. She says it with a giggle and Vash nuzzles his face into her hair.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wolfwood says. There's a smile in his eyes behind the sunglasses, though, when Vash catches them in the mirror.

The parent sun has set by the time they get moving again, and the child isn't far behind. Only one of the moons is full tonight, the others in various states of waxing and waning. This far out in the sand wastes, there aren't many radio stations to catch. Vash and Meryl share a glance when the static hissing quietly through the truck's radio catches a station and Wolfwood changes it within a few words.

EOM? Meryl draws on Vash's thigh.

MAYBE, Vash traces back on Meryl's hand. It's one of those things Wolfwood either won't or can't talk about.

Meryl keeps pressing at her eyes and the movement has extended to her temples.

“You should rest, Meryl,” Vash says.

“I'm fine,” Meryl says. “My eyes are bothering me, is all. I think the drive was a lot today.”

“Passenger's side pocket has a bottle of painkillers, shortie,” Wolfwood pipes up from the front seat. “Gonna storm, remember?”

Meryl blinks, and Vash watches the wheels turn in the light of one moon. “Oh. How did I forget? How do I always forget?”

The pressure difference of a storm rolling through wears her out, and Meryl's too stubborn to give in at first. Wolfwood had first hand experience after July. Two lightning seasons worth of experience, and three seasons worth of sandstorms.

Vash feels like an outsider at Wolfwood's words, but there's nothing to be done. They looked after each other for two years, trying to find any indication that he was still alive.

Vash is grateful for it.

He is grateful for it. Really. He is.

The heartbroken way Wolfwood had given him his Colt back is another feature of his dreams, soft and broken and so, so apologetic. Like he desperately didn't want to pull Vash back into life on the run but couldn't stay with Granny and Lina himself. There are people relying on Wolfwood, more than just Vash and Meryl. Vash has seen the envelopes he sends back to December and Hopeland with Meryl's reports. He hasn't tried to convince them to swing back to Hopeland, but Vash knows Wolfwood would like to go back.

Meryl leans up and forward, reaching into the passenger's side and rummaging around in it. Vash steadies her, hand on her waist while she leans.

“Got it,” Meryl says, and Vash pulls her back. She twists the cap off after squinting at it. Meryl's nose crinkles. “This is the stuff that makes me sleep, isn't it?” she asks.

Wolfwood waves a hand. “Maybe. I just grabbed whatever.”

Vash peers over her shoulder at the bottle. The moons give off just enough light for him to see, even if Meryl's thumb has Wolfwood's handwriting covered.

Meryl sighs, making Wolfwood scoff. “You need it anyway.” He reaches back and pokes at them. Vash taps Wolfwood's finger with one of his own. “Take your meds and get some sleep. You too, Spikey.”

Grumbling, Meryl grabs one of the canteens and takes two of the little pills.

“I'll keep you company for a while longer, Wolfwood,” Vash says.

Wolfwood withdraws his hand and rummages in the passenger's seat for a sucker. Meryl's given him enough of an earful over smoking in the truck.

“Do what you want,” Wolfwood says. His attention drifts back to the sands.

The truck rumbles easily under Vash, and Meryl snuggles into his coat.

(It's not his original SEEDS Project coat from Luida and Brad, though it is from Home. Their first “mission” after finding Vash again had to drag him Home to get him checked out. Vash had gotten a new coat then; no matter how hard Wolfwood and Meryl had scrubbed, they couldn't get the original coat clean and red again.

Wolfwood had taken to wearing it alongside Vash's darkened shooting glasses, and it soothed something in Vash's heart seeing it. Wolfwood didn't wear it all the time, but the fact remained.)

Meryl grumbles a little bit; she soothes and starts drifting as Vash pets her hair. The tightness in her eyes fades as she drifts away into sleep on Vash.

Vash drifts in and out as well, jerking into full wakefulness at one point when Wolfwood brings the truck to a stop. His leg had fallen asleep and off the back set, jolting pain up his leg.

Vash's gasp of pain has Wolfwood looking at him over his shoulder. “Sorry,” Wolfwood explains, “I need to stretch out. We'll start up again in a few.”

“Time's it?” Vash asks. He presses the heel of his palm down his thigh, hoping the pressure will help with the ache.

“Late. Early? Parent sun’ll probably be rising after a while, if the clouds aren't too thick.” Wolfwood gets out of the truck, easing the door closed so he doesn't wake Meryl. Vash watches as he lights up a cigarette, flipping his lighter instinctively as he does. Wolfwood paces back and forth for a bit while he smokes and stretches out his back and shoulders. If Vash listens hard enough, when Wolfwood stretches his arms up and over his shoulders and leans backward, he can hear Wolfwood's vertebrae pop against one another. Vash has run his flesh and bone hand up Wolfwood's back and has an intimate knowledge of those vertebrae.

There are more than there should be.

Wolfwood finishes his cigarette surprisingly quickly, getting back in the truck after just one.

“Everything okay?” Vash asks.

“Just wanna get to the next town before the storms roll through,” Wolfwood says in a rare bout of honesty.

He tries.

Vash loves him for it.

Wolfwood makes a face back at Vash in the mirror. “Go back to fucking sleep, Blondie. We've still got another couple hours, probably.”

“Alright, alright.” Vash can't seem to kill the smile on his face, though. He hides his smile in Meryl's hair, peering at Wolfwood over her. Meryl snuffles and snuggles in closer, and Vash isn't sure how his chest plate is comfortable for her.

It's dark now, properly dark, now that Vash processes it. Wolfwood has the glasses off, and the moons have either fallen or the clouds have rolled in thicker. Vash rumbles a purr deep in his chest and closes his eyes. Meryl's weight is comforting.

He drifts again to the sound of Wolfwood humming.

When Vash opens his eyes again, his whole body aches. It's settled in deep, and Vash makes a noise as he eases himself upward. Meryl's no longer on him, having migrated to the front seat at some point. They must have stopped after Vash drifted off, deeper than he thought.

“Hey sleepyhead,” Wolfwood says. The sunglasses are back on his face. Vash quietly mourns losing seeing his eyes. “How're you feeling?”

Vash blinks and thinks about it. “Sore,” is what he says. Its a bit of an understatement.

Meryl hums and leans over the center console to look at him. She's also wearing sunglasses, but he can see how she's managed to bruise under her eyes by pressing at them. “Yeah, me too.”

Vash finally puts a word to what he's been seeing. “How's your head?” he asks.

“I'm being stabbed in the eyes and the thought of driving is making me feel sick,” Meryl says. “Even with the good pills, I feel like someone's stabbing me in the temples with a dull knife.”

It's a bad one, then. Vash leans forward slightly and taps their heads together.

He hums at her, a low tone in his throat that he's only heard out of another Plant a brief handful of times. Another Plant was trying to soothe him while she was fading. The other times had been at Home, while hiding in the Plant Chamber of the ship; the other Plants sensed his upset and sang for him.

“How much further?” Vash asks. The words come out of his mouth with a rumble and Meryl blinks at him from behind her sunglasses.

“Not sure. Parent sun should be up, but the cloud cover's pretty thick. We might be in town a couple days,” Wolfwood says. He nudges Meryl back into the seat so he can get at the gear shift.

Vash agrees with that statement. The pain will likely knock him down for at least one of those days and he's going to need to take off his prosthetic.

Blinking out the window, Vash sees what Wolfwood means. This season, at least in this area, might be incredibly active. Vash hasn't been through here in a couple of decades; not at this time of year anyway.

They might need to leave sooner rather than later, once Vash and Meryl are recovered well enough. Wolfwood's going to have to be their main point of contact while they're in town. Rain is slightly more common in lightning season, but still rare, and Vash’s body disagrees with rain.

“Sooner would be better,” Vash says, laying back. He can't quite stretch out fully, but he can get his feet up on the window frame so he's on his back. Meryl coos at him; there's a tired note to it, though.

Vash dozes again to the sound of Wolfwood humming and Meryl messing with the radio. She finally settles on a station that's playing music, someone singing with a guitar. Wolfwood hums along with the song, fingers gently tapping to the beat.

“It's not a sin if it don't make me cry,” Wolfwood croons under his breath. Vash idly wishes he could hear Wolfwood sing for real as he lets the movement of the truck rock him to sleep again.

Vash wakes as the truck pulls to a stop. The pain eclipses his body, but there are points from where the pain radiates the most. His (lack of) arm, the chest plate, the knee where his cartilage is just gone.

“We made it to town,” Meryl says quietly. She's peering at him from over the back of the front seat. “Nick's going in and getting us a room. He's gonna try to get one with a bathroom, if they have one.”

Vash grunts slightly, his breath rattling. It's not the injury rattle, though it is pained.

“Just a bit longer, Vash,” Meryl says. “Nick should be out soon.” She reaches over the center console and takes Vash's hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over the back. His glove prevents skin-to-skin contact but for his index and pinky, but she's never really seemed to care. Vash thinks he loves that about her.

True to Meryl's word, Wolfwood comes back out of the building soon after.

He leans against the back door of the truck, breathing deeply a couple of times before he opens it. “Got a room for a couple of days,” he says. “Its not much, only one bed, but there's a private bathroom. It sounds like it might even have a tub we can use.” Wolfwood reaches out and pets Meryl's hair briefly.

He's worried and bad at showing it. Vash rattles a weak purr at him. Wolfwood strokes Vash's cheek from nose to ear.

“I'll get you two settled, then the truck moved. Shortstack, you good to walk?”

“Yeah. Might take a minute if there's stairs though.”

“Convinced them to give us a first floor room. Didn't want to risk you two with anything higher up.”

Vash loves him. Wolfwood claims he's not kind and then he does this? Liar.

Meryl gets out of the truck and shoves her sunglasses as far up her face as she can. She's got her shoulders hunched up and her jacket around her shoulders, the collar flipped up to hide some of her face and block out extra light. Vash lets Wolfwood slide him out of the truck into his arms to carry Vash bridal style. Vash swallows heavily, and Wolfwood murmurs something against his forehead. Vash doesn't quite hear it over the grinding of his joints, but he tries to get his arm around Wolfwood's neck anyway. Not that he needs to – Wolfwood can carry Vash with no problems even easier than he slings the Punisher around.

Wolfwood kicks the door closed behind him once he's got Vash safe in his arms. Meryl makes a cranky noise but goes inside first, holding the inn's door open for them. Vash process the fact that the innkeeper calls Wolfwood Padre but doesn't get much more as a wave of pain cramps up his leg.

“Easy, angel,” Wolfwood murmurs.

“Soon,” Vash mumbles. “It's gonna storm soon.”

The wind is kicking up – Vash curls his body as he can and presses his face into Wolfwood's throat. He's always hated this season, tries to avoid the parts of No Man's Land that are in it whenever he can. The storms that flare up out of season he can handle – most of them are over quickly. When the seasons – and Vash uses the word loosely – change, Vash knows intimately. Especially when he's gone into an area where the season's already moved in. The red sands should have tipped him off when he spotted them two days before, but all he'd thought about at the time was a flash of memory he didn't realize he'd lost.

Vash thinks Meryl leads them through the inn to the room the innkeeper lent them, but the next little while is a blur, tucked into Wolfwood's throat as he is. He'll probably have markings from Wolfwood's rosary on his face when he emerges, Vash thinks with a horrible giggle. It's better than the Plant markings that show up. Had he lost Meryl and Wolfwood that day on the sandsteamer, Vash wouldn't have blamed them.

Another pulse of pain, sharper than the way his stump pulses with his heartbeat. Vash might make a noise. He's not terribly sure. Tears leak out of the corners of his eyes, and a gentle hand wipes them away. The size of the fingers indicate Meryl. They're small and delicate, calloused in a different way from Wolfwood's, from Vash's own.

Wolfwood gently deposits Vash on the bed and disappears through one of the doors for a moment when Vash cracks open his eyes. The sound of water hits Vash's ears and he shudders a breath. “’sit hot?” he slurs.

“Nick's checking, Vash,” Meryl says. He thinks she says that, anyway. He's not sure he hears her properly over the sound of the now-howling wind. He lets her manhandle him slightly to get his coat off, lets her take off his shooting glasses and place them delicately on the bedside table. He can hear the click of that just fine, but the shape of the words from his own partner's voice? Clearly not.

He flinches when she moves to take off his prosthetic, eyes half-lidded and heat spreading from the end. She doesn't need to be doing this, he thinks, she's already hurting and feeling terrible.

Someone starts petting his hair, and Vash leans into the touch. This, he can handle at the moment. A second set of hands joins in, carefully getting Vash's shirt off him. Vash sucks in a slightly panicked breath, but he knows those hands. They're Nico’s.

“We've got you, Vash,” Nico says. “I ain't letting anyone take you away again.”

This time, he lets them take off his arm. Nico unhooks Vash’s gun belt, slides the leather from around his waist and thigh. He doesn't crack a joke or anything about it, which means Vash looks as bad as he feels. One of them gets Vash's boots, and Nico disappears for a moment. Meryl wrestles with Vash's pants, and Vash helps where he can. Trying to get his leg to bend is impossible, though, and she slides the pants off his legs. Vash gasps, but Meryl's seen him like this before.

The wind howls, and all Vash can hear is the sound of his fluid pulsing in his ears over the burning of rubble and the crashing of ships. It's bad, then.

A hand on his shoulder has Vash flinching back, grabbing it in his own and squeezing. Blinking fiercely, Vash focuses his vision on Nico, who just looks at him with too soft eyes. Too soft for Vash to deserve.

“Easy, Angel,” Nico says again.

“Nico,” Vash rasps. He lets go of Nico's arm and reaches out with his hand.

Nico comes easily, tucking Vash under his chin and into his chest. “I'm here.”

“Meryl?”

A small body leans against Vash's back. “I'm here too,” Meryl says. Vash slowly calms down.

“Sorry,” Vash mumbles eventually. Meryl shakes her head into Vash's shoulder blades and Nico snorts softly into Vash's hair. Vash is trapped, but not in danger.

“Storm rolled in faster than any of us thought,” Nico says. Vash can hear it now, over Nico and Meryl's steady pulses. It's not a regular lightning storm; there's rain too. It could be flooding where they were an hour or two ago.

“It's why my head is so bad,” Meryl says. Her lips tickle against Vash's spine.

“And pro'ly why you're such a wreck,” Nico adds. He trails his fingers up and down Vash's side.

Vash just nods. Okay. That's... that's fine.

“Lemme get you up,” Nico says, and Meryl pulls back a little. Vash sways slightly as he sits up on his own, and Nico's hand doesn't leave his shoulder even as Nico stands up off the bed. “Water should still be hot, but you like it hotter'n we do anyway.”

Vash blinks a couple of times as he sluggishly processes this. “That sounds... good.” Meryl slides off the bed beside Vash, her hands hovering around his waist, just above his underwear.

“May I...?” she trails off. She's always trailed off if she's asking to take off his underwear, and she's always asked.

“I don't think I can bend?” Vash offers. He instinctively tips his head slightly and the movement twinges the nerves and tendons and muscles down his back. He hadn't forgotten about that particular injury – it just wasn’t as prominent until right now.

Meryl presses a soft kiss to Vash's sternum, and her hands settle on the waistband of his underwear, peeling them off carefully. Nico holds Vash steady as he steps up and out, hissing as Vash tries to bend his knee and fails. They end up on the pile that Vash dimly recognizes as his clothes.

Nico carefully manhandles Vash into the bathroom, where there's a tub of still-steaming water waiting for him. Vash could cry. Vash might, in fact, be crying. He's making awkward hiccupy noises, anyway.

“I got ya, I got ya,” Nico says. He scoops Vash up and carefully deposits him in the tub. It's an old clawfoot, big and deep enough for Vash to stretch out near-fully in the water.

It's deliciously hot, and he sinks in shoulder deep. The heat is already sinking into his body, almost too much before his muscles start to relax. Vash groans as his locking muscles and joints unlock. It's almost painful, but in the opposite direction of actual pain.

Vash makes a curious noise when Nico pets his hair. Not even the deep rumble of thunder covering up Nico's words could prevent Vash from staying in the tub and Vash makes a protesting noise and sinks down almost nose deep. Nico chuckles and kisses Vash's forehead.

Nico leaves Vash in the bathroom to soak in the heat. Vash stares at the door for a while before he slowly raises up so his mouth's not in the water any longer. He can just hear someone – Nico, by the footsteps – walking around in the other room.

With a heavy sigh, Vash tips his head back against the head of the tub. The heat is helping. He dozes in the tub; the storm raging outside can't chase him out of it now.

The door creaks open and Vash sluggishly blinks his eyes a few times so he can see.

Wolfwood is at the door, stripped down to his shirtsleeves. He's shoeless and as Vash roves his eyes up and down over Wolfwood's frame, he notices little things missing. His sleeve garters, his shoulder holsters, his belt – all are missing from Wolfwood's body. Vash is a little too tired to parse much more at the moment though.

Wolfwood looks softer than usual, dressed down and not on alert for once.

He pads in to check on Vash. “Hey angel,” Wolfwood says. “How you feeling?”

“Hi yourself,” Vash responds. “Warmer. Better than before. Doesn't hurt nearly as much.”

Wolfwood smiles, one of the real soft ones that Vash loves.

“Good. Shorty's out like a light again. Head's still killing her.” Wolfwood sits on a bucket beside the tub that Vash hadn't noticed before. “Gonna wash your hair, alright? Since you're already in here.”

Vash narrows his eyes a smidge at the uncharacteristic generosity. Wolfwood's been extra sweet the last day, and if Vash had more energy it would be putting him on edge. As it is, Vash wouldn't mind if Wolfwood washed his hair. Wolfwood shouldn't, but its not like Vash can stop him.

“Fine,” Vash says. Wolfwood's smile turns more tender.

“Good. I managed to charm the innkeeper out of some soap. It's not half bad, either.” Wolfwood rolls up his shirtsleeves. “I'm gonna get a cup and the soap. I'll be back in a minute, sweetheart.” Wolfwood tips Vash's face up with his fingertips and gives him a careful upside-down kiss. Wolfwood disappears out the door but he returns just as fast, a cup and a bar of soap in his hands and his sleeve garters back on his arms.

“Could've taken off your shirt,” Vash says. He doesn't mind, really. The garters only emphasize Wolfwood's muscle in a tease that Wolfwood usually plays up.

“Not just yet, pretty thing,” Wolfwood replies. “Don't think you'll be up to anything frisky by the time I'm done with you, anyway.” He's got a slight smirk playing on his lips.

Jerk.

Wolfwood combs his fingers through Vash's hair a couple of times and fills the cup with water. It's still warm on Vash's skin, and Vash sighs deeply at the touch. Wolfwood scratches lightly as he works the soap into a lather in Vash's hair, making Vash flutter his eyes closed and a low purr escape from his slightly parted lips. Despite how he's ached the last day, this is nice.

Vash lets Nico manhandle him so he can wash Vash's hair, carefully working his fingers through the dusty strands. Nico's humming that song from this morning, the one from the car. The humming dies off, and Vash makes an inquisitive noise. “Gotta rinse out your hair, sweetheart,” Nico says. “Lean forward for me?” Vash tips forward; from the corner of his eye he sees Nico scoop the cup through the water so he can pour it over Vash's head. The motion repeats a few times as Nico rinses out the soap and the sand and anything else Vash might have in his hair. Nico runs his thumbs up and down the back of Vash's neck a few times. Vash moans a little bit when Nico rubs out a particularly tense knot; he knows he's going to get teased by the tone of Nico's half-snort.

“Gettin' you all worn out and I ain't even got you in bed yet, sweetheart,” Nico teases.

“Don't be mean,” Vash whines. All he wants now is to curl up with his two favorite people and sleep off what aches remain.

Nico's lips press against the top of Vash's spine in a gentle kiss. They're slightly chapped – Nico must have worried himself sick over Vash and Meryl being down.

“Let's get you out of the tub, yeah?” Nico says. The skin where he's pressing his lips to tingles under his touch.

Vash leans back up with some crackling, but there's less pain overall. Nico guides Vash out of the tub, helping him stand and drying him off with a soft, worn towel. Vash's sleep clothes are already in the bathroom, much to his surprise. Nico'd been ready whenever Vash was, apparently. Slowly, Nico helps him dress; Vash is worn out by the time they're done and the sound of the storm still going outside is distant. Nico scoops Vash up in his arms again, back in the bridal carry from earlier to take Vash to the bed where Meryl has long since fallen asleep in. Nico makes sure to deposit Vash behind Meryl where he can lay with his full arm free. Vash presses himself in against Meryl's back, arm slinging around her waist.

“Coming to bed?” he asks over his shoulder.

“Nah. Gonna be up a while yet.” Nico throws a lightweight sheet over the two of them. Meryl snuffles down into it in her sleep, tucking up against Vash. “Rest. I want you full up if we have to run out of town if someone realizes who we are.” Nico strokes Vash's hair again and goes to the door, where Vash can hear him messing with the Punisher.

Vash will rest. When he's done, he'll make Nico rest. If he can't, Meryl will. Vash closes his eyes to the sound of Nico cleaning his gun, the storm on its way out, and Meryl's soft snores. He might not sleep again, but he will rest.

#mashwoodweek #trigun #trigun stampede #vash the stampede #meryl stryfe #nicholas d. wolfwood #mashwood #myde writes #there's also a song wolfwood sings along to the radio #its one of my favorite personal ww songs it's called drink the water and its by justin cross #me: i dont know if i can post this rn #also me: FUCK IT WE'RE DOING IT LIVE -slams post now button-

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gardensnakie · 6 months ago

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You always seem to have really interesting thoughts and perspectives when asked about various theories, stories, and concepts (I started reading The Summer Hikaru Died thanks to you /pos) so I’m curious: What do you think of hanahaki?

(Oh yay, it's a good story ^^)

For the hanahaki trope, I've never gotten an interest in it but I've heard the idea every know and then. I haven't read anything about it, but I got the basics of how it works so my opinion is based off surface level ideas and my elaboration

The disease that can only be cured if someone's love for somebody else is reciprocated is scary. I'm sure in some cases it doesn't necessarily have to be romantic love that would cure someone, but I'll focus on it because that's the main idea for most stories with hanahaki.

If someone close to me had hanahaki disease and it was getting worse because I didn't reciprocate that love, I would try my best to reciprocate it the best I can in that situation because I don't want this person to die.

I think there can be many possibilities and scenarios. My thoughts are running around trying to narrow down at least one outcome.

There can be aggression, a person demanding openness from the infected other so they know how to love them in a way they want so they won't die. The person can care endlessly and be determined to save the infected other, but still couldn't imagine kissing or marrying them among other things. I'm not sure how to explain it, since I'm not interested in romantic relationships and I honestly lean more into the idea of queer platonic relationships.

I dont think I could ever develop hanahaki disease if I lived in a universe where that happened. It's a trope that would give plot holes unless authors elaborated on it because I don't believe in the idea that there is only one person in life for someone else- soul mates basically. But I never experienced romantic love for someone so I wouldn't know how that feels.

If there was a character like that, with a lack of romantic interest in people but desperate for connection, I think they would do anything to save the person who is dying from their love for them. Even if that love is so different.

Yes, that character would cuddle with them, hold their hand, give them gifts, care, spend time with them, and they would have to believe it would be enough because they are so happy having someone else who loves them too- but again, that love is different, leaving the infected other to long for something they can't have

"Do you feel unloved?"

"What can I do?"

"I really do love you, why... " why aren't you getting better?

Is there any room for compromise? If moving on isn't a choice and the infected other dies, what would all that effort mean? A refusal to kiss should be better than an ingenuine one. Was this love not enough, was that love too much?

What makes it so different? Was it physical, was it emotional, what did it lack? All love is different and people see it in different ways and it is so vast, so even if one tries their absolute best there is always a risk of it failing and leaving to grave consequences. Does openness amount to the value of love? Would sharing our feelings cure it all, how vulnerable can somebody be and still fail to convince another they truly love them?

Its like- a spiritual force to cure the disease I think. What does the disease rely on, is it the victim's beliefs on what love is and what love they receive, does the disease find it different or is it the person first? Can it be reversed if the person just 'moves on'? It's never that easy.

I also think it's easy to grow cold toward a person with hanahaki disease and is in love with you. Like a 'you can hate me instead of love me' kind of idea. Forcing somebody out of love so they can be cured is a more cruel solution. Being set on being apathetic should at least make some difference. But it brings question of codependent victims of the disease. There's a lot! There's a lot of possibilities and I think it could be very interesting, and I'm sure there might be stories like this but I've never tried seeking them out.

#snakie rambles #A lot

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neighborlywelcome · 1 year ago

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Hello hello !!! May I get a tadc matchup? <3

I'm nonbinary & transmasc , preferred pronouns are he/it

I'm aroace, bisexual with a preference for men, and cupioromantic <3 I'd be comfortable matching with anyone, but I lean more towards men :3

I'm very sorry if this causes any trouble for you, but I would not like to be matched with Caine </3

Personality: I'm generally a very quiet person, not really speaking unless spoken to and stuff, but I'm not necessarily a shy person. I can hold a conversation pretty well once someone starts speaking to me. I don't change much with people I'm close with, besides initiating conversations more often (but it's unlikely. I have to be very close in order to do that) I'm very much a people pleaser, always trying to make changes to whatever I can so someone else can get what they want. I can be kind of mean and blunt sometimes, but I'm not trying to! It's just hard for me to tell my tone :( Another thing, I'm uncomfortable with physical touch. If someone touches me I will automatically push them away. That doesn't mean I don't like it! If you warn me beforehand or ask me before touching me, I'll be more likely to say yes. (not a guarantee though, it depends on how close we are)

Hobbies//interests: Psychology, philosophy, classic literature, dolls, bats, human anatomy, mori kei, cult party kei, sweets, small animals, wintertime/cold weather, literature analyzing, psychological horror, and trinket collecting ^_^

In a partner, I usually try to look for people who can put up with my bluntness, and people who can initiate conversations first. If they don't, we probably won't ever speak 😭 I like people who are outgoing, it gets me out of my comfort zone a bit :3

My love language is most definitely acts of service. I'm not great at expressing my feelings through words or physical touch, so I always opt for doing things for the people I love.

I'm a Scorpio ^^

I looove Jirai, menhera, and all things like that :3

Fun fact: I'm deathly cold 24/7 and I speak fluent Russian <3 (Honestly I'm not that great with English irl, I can barely speak if I try </3)

I hope this is okay!! Have an amaaazing day <333333

Hi, yeah absolutely! I hope you have a good day too and thanks for the request! <3

YOUR MATCHUP IS…

JAX!!!

Okay, I know Jax can be a lot to deal with but I am confident that you can do it. He probably softens up a little when he actually likes someone too, which may take awhile but he’ll slowly but surely grow into his infatuation with you. So I think you and Jax would be a good match!

As long as you can put up with his Jax-ness, he doesn’t mind how blunt or mean you are. Odds are, when he’s getting closer to you he even finds it charming. Everyone around the circus is too nice or goody for him, so you’re a nice break away from that. And he’s not afraid of talking either, so initiating conversations with you is easy-peasy for him!

Jax is not big on physical affection, so no worries about that. He’s likewise not great with expressing himself through words (his jerky persona makes it so he’d be too flustered to admit to being nice…) so the two of you are better with showing love through your actions! He’ll do the sweetest thing for you like save you an extra dessert but get all defensive if you try to ask him about it any further.

He acts like he doesn’t care about others but with you, he’s actually very interested in your thoughts and interests. Being into psychology/philosophy, you would talk to him while he listens, only interrupting with a witty remark every now and then. Maybe you could even teach him about why he’s like… that lol (imagine: the scene in Lilo and Stitch where she’s showing Stitch the chart with his “badness” levels).

I think Jax is easily flustered when he’s in love over the little things his partner does. With you, he loves hearing you speak Russian, it’s like his guilty pleasure. He’d definitely try and “trick” you into speaking Russian by initiating conversations in what little Russian he knows but he’s not sly. You indulge him anyway and he sits and listens, interjecting with what you’ve taught him so far, even if he doesn’t fully understand it.

#tadc matchup #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax x reader #tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc x reader #anonymous #romantic matchup #my matchups

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halowritesthings · 10 months ago

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i love learning about things a week late through youtube recommendations from random channels i've never seen before

(bad grammar and typos cause i'm shooting my shot as fast as possible so I can get back to Important Adult Stuff(TM))

i suppose i can't really gripe because i'm still largely logged out and wouldn't have heard otherwise so maybe I should take it for what it is

i know i'm a random person who writes as a hobby so I don't necessarily "owe" anything to people online, but y'all have been so sweet to me and I feel it would be unfair to keep dropping off the face of the planet like I have been, plus, I have been stewing over quite a bit of my thoughts these past few months and making a large "get all my thoughts out in a word vomit" post is a good way to A.) sort out my shit and B.) to procrastinate homework

college is BEATING MY ASS and i'm not even at the harder junior/senior year type stuff so even if my writer's block wasn't the worst it's ever been I highly doubt I would be writing anything anyway. i cannot say for certain when I'll be able to get back (it seems the universe is tailored specifically to punch me in the face whenever I have the slightest inclination to do so) but i will say it is always on my mind. i don't ever want to give up writing fully because of how many good things it's brought me but i want to be mature and say that it has taken a backseat in my life.

i still don't regret the things I've created and i will always be thankful for the experiences I've had + the friends I've made (even if we haven't talked in a while :') sorry guys) BUT this situation has just become the nail in the coffin for me in terms of what i want to do with my ds/mp and other adjacent fics. i can't say for certain what I'll go through and orphan/keep or just outright delete (WIPS/unfinished series will probably get deleted is what I've decided so far) so this is a BIG WARNING sign right here and now: if there are any ds/mp fics of mine you are fond of, please go and save them now. even if you think the one you really love is "safe" it's better to be cautious and have it yourself than hope for the best outcome.

now's a good time to mention that i have been feeling similar feelings toward my fl0wer husb4nds fics (gonna come out and be honest: i don't particularly care for sc0tt anymore, sorry) so if you like those you should also search them out. i think a hard majority if not all of them will be orphaned, so they'll still be up, but it never hurts to be able to read something while offline anyway

however, due to the aforementioned Important Adult Stuff(TM), i won't be able to get to the whole Properly deleting/orphaning process for a hot minute. that does not mean you should put off saving my fics because my brain could decide one night that i HAVE to do it IMMEDIATELY, but i can promise that it's not happening tonight (might hold off for at least a week just to give people time to see this post).

TSALP, my pride and joy, is perfectly safe and fine. when i think about whenever ill be able to write again, this series is the First thing to pop up in my mind. i have so many things i want to do with that series (and h3rmitcr4ft as a whole) that make me smile despite all that has happened surrounding mc/yt. someone will need to threaten me with death to make me even consider giving that up. hell, even taking a step back, i can say that i will never fully let go of mc/yt. i straight-up have tickets to go see tommy's america show later this month (send my dad well wishes as he's the one taking me LMAO) .

remember to drink water, take breaks, tell your friends you love them etc. I'm terrible at giving advice since I'm a bonafide mess of a person, but i will say that the best thing you can do for each other is support one another. i've always been a bigger fan of giving support to those who are hurt than trying to go and cause more pain to the people that you can argue "deserve" it. the people you care about are going to be with you much longer than the assholes, so be sure to put more energy into focusing on them than the ones that don't even deserve your scorn.

#halo be talkin #dont plan to tag this with any warnings unfortunately but i hope i left it vague enough to not be upsetting but specific enough #to know what im talking about

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inventors-fair · 5 months ago

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Next to Come: Split Precedent Runners-Up

Our runners-up this week are @loadingreadywalk, @nyxbird, and @yourrightfulking!

@loadingreadywalk — Death & Taxes

Great username, simple design, cool stuff. Shame that Death is already a card (on Life & Death) but in my fantasy-land I'm imagining in good faith that you're either reclaiming it or just didn't know and either way, I think that this version is probably more likely to be printed in the limited environment that wants it. The only question is about Taxes, and lemme tell you I've never been good at taxes. What I will say is that most Treasure precedent (which should always be capitalized!) in white is a repeatable effect that is indeed taxing; as permanents, your opponents can change their game actions to reflect whether or not you get your due.

Here, it feels a little dodgier? Imagine, on the play, your opponent's played a second land and then passes. You cast Taxes, then play your second land. By the time your next turn's come around, if you have a land, you've generated an extra mana, where your opponent may not have. That, to me, feels out of the color pie. But also, Discerning Financier kinda does the same thing, so what the heck. BUT but, it's public information that can be interacted with and incentivizes letting your Treasure go... What's the end game? I think... I think it would be okay. In a WB deck, both early game and mid-late game can be taken care of. I'm erring on the side of you knowing what you're doing. Man, that's a tough one.

@nyxbird — Will to Live

I'll note that the story here is quite good if you take some of the Will aspect as less hypnotic despair and more along the lines of someone being persuaded by your iron dominance because you're that much better—almost a blackish side of Blue. And then, yeah, Live-ing on the creature you just took? Very fun. The board possibilities in the late game can allow for the UG midrangey or ramp decks to absolutely go nuts on the crackback. Just make sure that you spell your keywords right, yeah? Get that "indestructable" back on the chopping block before you commit.

For what it's worth, too, I love this Amonkheti dynamic where the zombies, eternalized or embalmed or whatever, are all shambling without will and, as such, as much easier to take over with this card because, well, no mana value. I mean, c'mon, I think that that's awesome! There are board possibilities with this card that don't make it strictly better than Entrancing Melody necessarily, but it's still real damn strong. Is Live the card that'll save you after you steal a small threat, on the defense? Or is it going to make the card you Will-ed that much stronger? The implication that you Live the Will-ed creature is fascinating tension to me. Will you? Won't you? I just think it's neat. Great card for the shell, a top-end rare to guide ramp decks to victory.

@yourrightfulking — Goods & Services

I find it interesting that you can't actually have both, despite the two of them representing the same general family of thing, e.g. peanuts. And also, props to having someone render this for you, heh... I know that set symbol like I know the back of my toast, the one without butter. And you'd 'butter' be ready to see what kinds of goods and services that this card has to offer. What I like about Goods is that, on the one hand, it's an easy lifegain card with Food being fairly deciduous or whatever, and there's also the possibility of an archetype that could absolutely kick ass with it.

Services? Well, you'd better be willing to pay. It's such a great twist that you actually took a blank & blank and twisted it so that both of them are independently cool but together they're supposed to show similarity, and by contrasting them that contrast is itself elevated. I'm down for it, and especially down for the two worlds where one person is indeed displaying goods for you, and on the other side... Well, the wetwork is some serious business, but paying for it can be costly, especially in limited where your options are just that. This card feels really balanced in all the right ways, and I can envision civility and assassination in equal measure. I hope that that makes sense because when I told my therapist that, they just stared.

Commentation and commendation soon! @abelzumi

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #inventor's fair #commentary #runners up #split precedent contest

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trucbiduleschouettes · 1 year ago

Text

"Say, Songbird," Navi started, eyes opening lazily to look up at Katellig's face above her, "Don't ya think I should get a new name?"

Katellig's hand in her hair pauses for a moment, and Navi can't help but snort at the faint blush rising on the marine's cheeks, her thoughtful expression turning embarrassed.

"Don't overthink it Darling, I ain't asking ya to propose."

"I didn't think you were." Katellig answers quickly, a bit too quickly in fact for it to be the truth, her golden eyes staring down at Navi accusingly.

She truly was far easier to read than she seemed to believe, Navi thinks, nuzzling her head against the aasimar's hand impatiently. As she does, Katellig's fingers start gently scratching her scalp again and Navi finds herself purring contently.

"Are you going to elaborate on your trail of thought?" Katellig asks eventually, after a comfortable silence had settled on between them.

"Hmm hmm. Maybe. Interested?" Navi asks lazily, snuggling more comfortably against Katellig's thigh under her head.

"Can't deny I am."

The marine sounds almost annoyed at herself for admitting it.

Chuckling, Navi takes Katellig's free hand and brings it to her lips, giving it a light kiss followed by a playful nibble.

In response, the woman pinches her nose and orders her to behave.

Navi laughs; if there's one order she never listened to, it sure was this one.

"I was just thinkin'-" she continues, shifting a little to wrap her arms around Katellig's waist and nuzzles closer, "Pirates do tend to be known by various nicknames, yeah?"

"Not always, but in most cases, yes. Although often nicknames given by others carry more weight. One who name themselves would appear too eager to gain a reputation instead of taking the time to build it, and-"

"Ya know your lessons, huh?" Navi chuckles, feeling Katellig's reproachful gaze on her. "Don't be upset birdie, I wasn't mocking ya. It's cute."

"I'm not cute."

"Sure, if that's what ya wanna tell y'self." Navi snorts, rolling her eyes as Katellig's hand lightly tug at the handful of her hair she was now holding. "Oh, playing rough, Songbird? How naughty of ya."

"Hush."

Katellig’s impressive scold loses its impact due to the heavy blush creeping down her neck, but Navi is wise enough to keep that thought to herself, simply giving the woman an innocent smile in return.

Soon enough, the hand in her hair is back to gently massaging her scalp to appease it from the sharp tug.

"You want to be known then?"

"Not necessarily. Not known-known, I haven't done anything to be worth it yet, ya know? Once I find my dad and join his crew, perhaps. Till then? I'm fine being small fry, to just keep ya on ya toes."

"Am I your personal babysitter, now?" Katellig asks flatly, pinching Navi’s exposed waist. "I won't always be here to save the day, Nav'."

"And when that time comes, I'll find myself with a rope 'round my pretty lil neck." Navi sighs dramatically. "Good thing I can go without breathing for a good while, huh?"

The joking attempt is lost however as Katellig's expression hardens, and the woman's hand leaves her hair. The golden eyes look away from Navi’s mismatched ones, glaring at the wall instead.

For being her supposedly enemy, that woman sure didn't want to see her hanged.

"Aw, ya care 'bout me, darling?"

"Oh, shut up." Katellig curses -a surprisingly rare occurrence- and Navi chuckles, giving her thigh a light bite.

"Relax. I won't die, ‘m too busy to find the time for that just yet. Besides, I like keeping ya bed warm-"

"Back to business." Katellig cuts her quickly.

"I'd say ya my business tonight. If ya up for another round-"

"Navi. What do you want me to do?”

"Well, get your hands-"

"I meant about your original question, Gaerson."

"Oooh, calling me by my father 's name now? Exciting."

"You're impossible." Katellig scolded, pushing Navi off her laps to lay back down in bed, wrapping herself in the blanket and stubbornly turning her back to her, seemingly wanting to sleep.

Her sulking attempt does not last long however as Navi wraps her arms around her, pulling her close.

"Don't be mad at me, lil' birdie." She soothes her, burying her face into Katellig's warm shoulder with a content sigh.

"I just really like ya. I tease people, when I like 'em."

“You must truly like me, then.”

The tone is sarcastic but there is a questioning look in Katellig’s eyes as she turns to look at her. Navi smiles, all fangs out.

“I wouldn’t be in bed with ya if I didn’t, would I?”

“Right. You really like my ass, I get it.” Katellig says flatly, kicking her from under the blanket, and Navi laughs before stealing a kiss from her.

“Don’t forget ya awful personality. I really like that, too.”

“You really are a romantic, huh.”

“Oh? Is it romance ya looking for with me, now?”

“So, names.” Katellig clears her throat, avoiding the question.

Navi doesn’t mind nor care for an answer, anyway.Nuzzling back into Katellig’s arms, she hums in agreement.

“Names, yeah. What d’ya think mine should be?”

“Greatest Annoyance.”

“Ahah. Ya should be the Empire's new jester, cracking jokes like that.”

“No thanks.”

Katellig makes a face at her. Navi understands; neither of them were born in the Empire, their true home being elsewhere; herself at sea, and Katellig back on her little island. Or a better ship, perhaps. Maybe she could convince her to become a pirate, one day.

…Doubtful. That woman was too much of a people pleaser to follow in her brother’s footsteps and leave the profession.

“Can’t call me Songbird, this one is for ya.” Navi muses instead, drawing swirly shapes over Katellig’s skin with one of her claws.

“I figured. Gwelan?”

“What does it mean?”

“Seagull.”

“You do have some white feathers.”

Navi stares blankly at Katellig’s serious expression. A second later, the two of them start to laugh like children sharing a bad joke.

“Ya really ain’t taking me seriously, huh?”

“I am, I am.” Katellig promises, apologising with a kiss on her shoulder. Navi is quick to forgive her, pulling her into a proper kiss, which doesn’t take long to turn into more.

For a while the naming matter is pushed aside, though Navi enjoys the various ways Katellig ends up calling her name. It’s only once they have moved to the bathroom for a much needed bath that the subject arose once again.

“I don’t think a name related to green would be strategic. You’d just sound sickly, rather than impressive.” Katellig states, pulling her hair up into a towel. Navi grins, taking the opportunity to bite her nape, only to be whacked in the arm.

“I won’t leave a mark.” She pouts, resting her chin on Katellig’s shoulder instead,“And I ain’t agreeing with that, songbird. After all, jade is green, so are emeralds and it’s always nice to steal some, ya know?”

“So go by ‘the Jade Thief’, then.”

“Sounds too delicate. I need something more impactful. The old cunt was Windrider, dad is Stormbringer, it ain’t easy living up to that sorta legacy, ya know?”

“Believe it or not, I do.”

“Ah! I met ya dad before, that sure ain’t an easy one to please either, when it comes to reputation, huh?”

The meeting in question was the man furiously throwing her into the cell of a ship, promising to see her hanged before she could be the next Stormbringer.

And here she was, sleeping with his daughter. Funny, how life worked in mysterious ways sometimes. Not that Navi would complain- she had always enjoyed this sort of irony.

“Windrider, Stormbringer…” Katellig is now muttering to herself, clearly thinking about the matter seriously.

“Don’t ya dare suggest the Angry Seagull.”

“It wouldn’t cross my mind. What about-”

A knock at the door cuts her short before she could share her idea.

This late in the evening? It couldn’t be the Innkeeper, Navi had made sure to give him a tip in advance, in case of noise complaints.

Troubles, then? Or…

The two exchange a knowing look, Navi mouthing that she’ll hide in the bathroom.

Nodding, Katellig puts on a dressing gown that she ties tightly around her, and goes to check the door.

Though she cannot see who it is from her hiding spot, Navi immediately recognises the origin of the disturbance- Ian Louët, Katellig’s father.

Troubles, indeed.

Resisting the urge to cause a scene by dramatically exiting the bathroom, she instead focus her attention on the discussion a few steps away.

“-No, I’m alright. I was just about to head to bed, I- no, I do not have any company. I just… No, sir.”

Navi grimaces.

It sounded awkward, to refer to your own father as “sir” even in private. Would her own father ask her that once they met, when they were not in front of the crew?

Gods, she hoped not.

Her feathers puffing slightly in displeasure, she sneaks closer to the slightly ajar door, making sure not to let the wood creak under her weight. What was he saying, now?

“I heard you let the woman escape.”

Ah, right, the escape.

Navi must admit, she had gone a bit far this time by knocking Katellig unconscious.

The plan had been to make it look like she had attacked her and stolen the keys, not wanting to incriminate the woman too much. It seemed Katellig’s father was starting to have doubts, however. Smart man.

Bad news for Katellig, though. And for herself, to some extent. Perhaps she’ll have to avoid crossing Katellig’s path at sea for a little while. Pity.

“I’m sorry.”, she hears Katellig apologise. “I won’t let it happen again. The Stormchaser will-”

“Stormchaser?”

From her hiding spot, Navi smiles.

“Yes. Since she is known to be Stormbringer’s daughter, and is seemingly seeking him, I thought-”

“You’re not paid to think about anything but how to catch her and keep her locked, Katellig. So start working on it, instead of musing uselessly.”

“...Yes, Sir.”

A heavy silence follows. Navi waits, holding her breath.

Finally, the conversation starts again but she cannot hear most of it, the man’s tone quieter and a bit more fatherly. She wonders what kind of expression Katellig must have been making, for him to soften.

Oh, how tempting it feels, to just jump out dramatically and steal her away right in front of him. No, not yet. Another day, perhaps. If Katellig sounds willing.

“I will see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to write to your mother.”

“I’d never. I’ll post it first thing in the morning.”

“Good..”

“Goodnight, Sir.”

“Rest well, Katellig.”

Navi can’t help but glance through the crack of the door. Katellig’s back is turned to her, but she catches a glimpse of the man giving his daughter’s shoulder a firm pat before leaving.

Katellig seems to slouch under the weight of the touch, and Navi wonders if the man truly is worth the burden. Ah, well. If Katellig wasn’t ready to become the second family disappointment, it wasn’t her business.

She waits for the door to close before quietly sneaking outside the bathroom and wraps her arms around Katellig’s waist, pulling her close enough to rub their cheeks together with a pur.

Once Katellig feels more relaxed against her, Navi’s teasing nature take over.

“So, Stormchaser?” She asks, grinning against Katellig’s neck.

She could swear she feels the woman’s pulse quicken and her skin grow warm against her at that.

“You don’t have to keep it. I just… improvised.” The marine mutters, her thumb gently rubbing circles against Navi’s wrist.

“I like it.”

“Don’t lie.”

“When did I ever lie to ya? Don’t answer it.” Navi quickly added, “I mean it though. I like it, Songbird.”

“...Good.”

“Make sure to gasp it aloud whenever we cross paths, to help it sticks-”

“Don’t push it.”

Navi snorts as she gets elbowed in the stomach. Feeling light hearted, she easily picks up the other woman and dramatically swirls with her, ignoring her protest.

“Seems like the big bad Storm caught herself a poor little bird, hmm?” She teases, carrying her back to bed.

“You’re gonna be insufferable about it, aren’t you?” Katellig grumbles, gently slapping her shoulder, “beside, who is a poor little bird?”

Navi gives her a playful wink before dropping her onto the mattress inelegantly.

“Ain’t ya? Ya certainly now how to sing when we-”

She gets cut short by Katellig’s arms around her neck, pulling her into a kiss. Right; action now, words later.

Just how she liked it to be.

#Wanted to write a lil something about those two #(it's sfw but it's hinted at that they do sleep together in though)#DnD #Dungeons and Dragons #genasi #air genasi #half elf #aasimar #monk #sketch #doodle #OC: Navi #OC: Katellig #monk crossover #Truc Draws #Truc Writes #I am NOT a writer I just can't draw today and needed to get those two out of my brain-

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slocumjoe · 2 years ago

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Actually, I'll take a moment to describe what my image of Gage is, as someone who has never played Nuka World and can't (poor), and hasn't dug through all of his in-game lines (time consuming)

My 'fix' of Gage was exclusive nuka-world (I think that was their user) and another tumblr user who posted Gage specific reacts. Nuka-world was the Preston stan who had Tracy, pretty popular artist. You've definitely seens remnants of their work, but they deleted i believe. They portrayed Gage as, like, a weird, lemme teach you crime kind of uncle/older brother who liked lizards and simple mischievous pleasures.

The other tumblr who I do not remember the name of portrayed him as this...very nuanced individual, full of contradictions that he justified to himself? So, that Gage was closer to Canon Gage, from what I can tell, but he was written to very clearly not belong with raiders.

That Gage had good people in his life, growing up, that taught him strict morals; some of which he kept. He held doors open for women, he hated raiders as much as he thought that way of life was the only viable one, he was loyal to those who earned his respect and trust. He wasn't a good guy, but he could have been. If you scraped off the raider shit, underneath that jaded exterior was just a normal guy.

So, my interpretation of Gage is a somewhat weird, off-kilter, but no-bullshit man who didn't want to be doing what he was doing deep down, but was never shown a different way to survive, and even if it meant being the problem, he refused to sit and let himself be a victim. If he had a choice between problem, victim, and solution, he'd have picked solution. But he never saw that choice. And maybe if there was a choice like that, presented to him now, and that choice had some real spine to it, he very well would still choose different.

Now, that's almost certainly OOC. But that was still a character I liked; it reminds me of many people I know IRL. Not people I'd call good, because they've made questionable decisions and have odd views of the world. But they aren't bad either, because they have heart and try to do their best with what they have, which is little. This version of Gage isn't a good person, or a bad one. He's just a person.

More specifically, the way I always described him, mentally, is that he's "a wolf trying to become a sheep so the sheep stop headbutting him."

So, my Gage doesn't care for any raider shit. He's concerned about hygiene, he has tastes for the finer things in life that you can't brute force, he wants to do his own thing and be left alone, and doesn't necessarily want to bother anyone else. My Gage thinks economics are important, understands politics, supply and demand, the benefits of raider life VS the life of peaceful communities working together. He just sees that the raider way comes on top.

The way it would play out in my Sole's story, if she ever went to Nuka World, is she'd fuck with him, and force him to make that choice again.

Isadora would go in, kill Colter, talk to Gage, and realize: Oh. This guy doesn't belong here. This guy doesn't want to be here at all, really. He wants something this life cannot provide and couldn't sustain, because it opposes it on a fundamental level. But my Minutemen and my cities, they could. But he won't come willingly.

So she kills Colter, and tells Gage: I am going to come back with my army, and do whatever I have to do to save the people you are oppressing. I have the ability to do this as a weekend vacation; my men outnumber yours 20 to 1, and they don't share my compassion and understanding for your kind. But I can see that you are not like 'your kind.' I will give you the chance to unite and prepare for a siege, or to leave Nuka World and come back with me, as one of my personal unit.

And Isadora walks while Gage laughs her out of the room. He hates that he's left as Overboss, now, but that's his only worry. Farmers with guns? Pfft.

Then he starts hearing talk of the Minutemen, the first bit being "one of our guys spied on one of their bases and they have a lot of sentry bots."

"...how many?"

"He cant count past ten, since that's all the fingers he has."

Because Isadora is a robots expert. She makes robots. She did this for a living before the bombs. 1 sentry bot? Bad. 2? Fucking bad. Three? Nope, you're dead. 4? 5? 10? More? Overboss Gage is worried about the bots, but they can outsmart them, use mines, maybe get an EMP thing going...the farmers will drop like flies then.

"Farmers? No, we're hearing its a military."

"Pfft, a military."

"They have trucks and shit. Tanks. Vertibirds."

"...w-well, those sure do explode nicely...which they will..."

"They're all wearing combat armor and are armed with guns that make our pipe shit look like kids toys"

"...fine. We'll partner with local raiders and take them out as one unified force"

"They killed all local raiders. There are no raiders over there."

"Fucking what."

"There isn't even merc groups anymore because the Minutemen deal with everything"

"Fuck sake. Okay. Well their economy and whatever has to be shit"

"They have no poor people, no rich, no one goes hungry, everyone is clothed, and has access to Healthcare and education. They're having a lot of kids and people get old there. Some people are writing books and music and stuff. Making art again."

It takes maybe a few people reporting back with info before Gage realizes who has plot armor and who doesn't. And Gage, as much as he hates everything that is happening, wants to be an essential NPC. He gets the gangs together, tells them they're fucked if they don't do this right, and they kinda just blow raspberries at him.

Gage is at the Castle doorstep cussing out Isadora's name within a week, and he's the newest adopted adult within a few days.

He fucking hates Isadora and she just kinda treats him like an aggressive purse dog. "Oh, don't mind Gage, he doesn't bite!" (GAGE SNARLING AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH IN THE BACKGROUND)

"Isa. Is that a fucking raider"

"yeah I found him on the front door I think someone left him :( and it's so cold lately and he looked hungry" (GAGE PISSING ON A MINUTEMAN FLAG AND MAKING BARF NOISES)

"isadora that is a grown man who is a fucking raider"

#meanwhile danse in the background; haha okay honey i guess we can take him in #(hates this but thats his wife. whats he gonna do? not support her???)#meanwhile preston; already throwing hands

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shesnotme · 2 years ago

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my plans for summer ❦

i dunno about you but i always, always spend my summers absolutely depressed. it's not a matter of whether or not you i friends, because i always have, but rather it's an issue of all that fucking time on your hands. two whole months of just.. nothing. so what do you even do? my plans for summer mainly revolve around helping my future self. because once september rolls around, what good will it be if i spent the past 2 months lazing around in bed? i won't be benefited by that, quite the opposite, really. so instead i've figured out what i need for the new school year and to really reach the goals i have for this upcoming year (post on that soon !). nothing revolutionary, sure, but it'll definitely help out at least a couple of you wondering what to do this summer <3

self care. this means caring of my body both inside and out. inside, i'm working on self improvement by becoming a kinder, more feminine person. i'm getting over my failed situationships and getting more comfortable being alone. i'm practicing detachment and, of course, protecting my peace. outside, i'm working on my hair and my body. i don't think it's any help to work on my wardrobe, because in summer you make really shit decisions. i've begun working out 3 times a week with my friend who's more experienced in the gym, mainly working on my glutes, cardio and abs. i'm planning on investing in heatless curlers, because my hair's volume hasn't been great. <3 ways you could practice self care: inside, you could work on your gut health, diet (eating healthy, not practicing any restrictive eating!), mental health, social life, self confidence. outside, you could work on your physical health (gym, running, biking), skincare, hair health, wardrobe (if you trust your decision making during this season), posture.

hobbies. you're not gonna want to go to the gym or journal every day, so finding some ways to spend your time alone and having fun can be really beneficial. i've started watching a couple tv shows, in july i'll be watching a movie every day (hopefully), scrapbooking more, making bracelets, and cooking. these aren't necessarily beneficial to future me, however they are fun and beneficial to present me, and balance is really important! summer is the time to take on projects and begin passions for things you can't do during the school year. hobbies that could help you: if you want something beneficial, try learning a new language, practicing an art (music, painting, writing), learning to cook, taking up a new sport, learning touch typing, or reading. if you want something fun, try watching a new tv show (skins, gossip girl, pretty little liars), watching a movie a day (you could do movies all with the same actor, by the same director, in a series, etc), scrapbooking, keeping a journal, growing a garden, crocheting, or decorating your room.

jobs. i have a late birthday so i can't volunteer yet, so instead i've taken on a few "jobs", mainly babysitting and doing things for my parents. it's not the most fun but if you want the money for the new school year (especially new clothes), you should do it. put the money into savings. of course, if you're under 15 you likely can't do much, but it's worth a shot. jobs you could take on: getting your volunteer hours (summer camps!), babysitting, working at fast food, designing carrds, mowing lawns.

planning. lastly, i'm planning out my next school year. it's good to have things figured out so that september doesn't hit you too hard. i'm working on things like schedules, study guides, phone decluttering, and, most fun, moodboards. i'll make a bigger post about my plans in specific <3 this is also a really great way you could practice manifesting. make your intentions clear and assume that these things will happen, and they will, but this isn't the place to be learning about that. things you could plan: your daily schedule (by the hour), outfit ideas, lunch ideas, goals, the mood for this school year, a desk system.

#girlblogger #girlblogging #romanticize your life #advice #loa #affirmations #summer inspo #summer motivation #manifesting #study motivation #romanticize studying #romanticize everything #romanticize school #summer vibes

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sunnyie-eve · 1 year ago

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20 || The Serum

Series: Trust | Maze Runner (Thomas x OFC)

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: Might be a few mistakes

| MASTERLIST |

Later at night Gally and Thomas were going to get Teresa while we waited. When they get back we all, me, Newt, Fry, Brenda, Jorge, Gall, Thomas, and Teresa all sit in a room.

"Gally?" She says as the sack comes off her head.

"Here's how this is gonna go. We're gonna ask you some questions, and you're gonna tell us exactly what we need to know. We'll start off simple. Where's Minho?" Gally grabs a chair to sit in front of her.

"You guys don't seriously think..." She looks at Thomas.

"Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him? Don't look at him. Look at me. He's not gonna help you. Now, we know you have Minho in the building. Where?" Gally sits down in front of her.

"He's with the others in holding. Sublevel three." She tells him.

"How many others?" Newt asks her.

"28." She sighs and we look over at Brenda.

"I can make that work." She tells us.

"No. No, you guys don't understand. The whole level's restricted. You can't get in without a thumbprint ID." Teresa tells us.

"That's why you're gonna come with us." Thomas tells her.

"Well, I don't know. We don't necessarily need her. Right? Not all of her. We just need her finger." Gally gets up but I knew that was too much.

"Gally, back off." I calmly tell him.

"What, are you squeamish? I guarantee you she's done a lot worse to Minho." He points at her.

"That's not the plan. Back off." Thomas gets up.

"It won't make a difference. Do whatever you want to me. You still won't get through the front door. The sensors will pick you up the..." Thomas cuts her off. "

"We know. We're tagged. Property of Wicked. You're gonna help us with that, too." Thomas gives her the scalpel.

"Who wants to go first?" Newt asks as we all look at her.

"I'll go first." I take the seat in front of her.

"How does it feel seeing Gally again?" She asks messing with my neck.

"Good. I missed him. Will you just hurry please? Sorta don't wanna have a conversation with you." I'm straight up with her.

"I'm sorry about your mom. I didn't kn-," She says as she finishes but I cut her off.

"Don't. Because you're the reason she's dead. You didn't pull the trigger but you helped in the situation because you called them. I'll never forgive you. And on top of that, I'm sure you, Wicked, have done terrible shit to Minho." I get up up from the chair leaving her and Gally takes the seat next.

"She enjoyed that." Gally says making Fry and me laugh.

"You're probably right." Fry tells him.

"Here see if these fit." Newt gives us Wicked soldiers uniforms.

"Thanks Newt." We tell him.

As we get things ready I eavesdrop on Thomas and Teresa, "She should have turned by now. There's no way she could possibly still..." I'm sure she was talking about Brenda. "You do t believe me?" She follows him as he stands up.

"Do you really expect me to? You made your choice." Thomas tells her as Gally goes to check on them then takes Teresa out so I go with them.

"You were in love with her, weren't you?" Brenda asks Thomas as he joins her side.

"No. It was someone I was close with and that was a good friend but got backstabbed." Thomas explains to her.

"Just be careful. You sort of have this problem where you can't walk away from people. Even when you should. You can't save everyone, Thomas." Brenda hands him the gun.

"I can try." He tells her.

"Are you in love with Liz?" She asks him walking away some then turns to face him.

"Yes." He nods his head.

"You should tell her as soon as you can. Don't wait for everything to be over because she'll think you don't actually care about her that way. Plus Gally is an ex she'll always have a special place in her heart for because he was her first boyfriend and first love she can fully remember. If y'all truly had something before the maze, it doesn't matter if she can't remember it. Don't waste time." Brenda tells him so he'll think about as she leaves.

As Thomas joins the group he walks straight up to Elizabeth giving her a passionate kiss. "I love you. I know I should tell you that now and not wait." He explains to her so she laughs at him.

"She loves you too, trust me, but we gotta get going." Gally tells Thomas making Elizabeth hit him.

"Gally's right so let's go." She gives Thomas a smile.

"Which part?" Thomas wants to be sure.

"Both Thomas so let's go get Minho." She walks ahead of the group.

"Say it at least." He grabs her hand.

"I love you too." She pats his chest before climbing down into the hole.

Back in the city Elizabeth splits off with Gally and follow behind him till they meet up with the other three. "Hold on. Hold on. I can get in here." Gally stops as they get in the stairwell.

"Stay there. Throw me the walkie." Thomas says then goes to check the rest of the stairs as Newt starts to cough.

Elizabeth starts to get worried walking over to him placing her hand on his back and sees Teresa staring at him. "Don't you start to cry on me." He looks her in the eyes.

"Frypan, we're in. How you doing?" Thomas walks around. "Hang in there, buddy." He tells Newt while Liz stays close to him.

"This'll work." Gally tells Thomas.

"Brenda, what's your status?" He asks her.

"All right, let's go." Gally tells them.

When we get to the room the four of us shoot at the soldiers taking them out. "It's okay. You guys are okay. Come on." Elizabeth opens one of the door helping the kids out.

"The vault. How do I get in?" Gally asks and the guy said he can't. "Guys, this might take some time." Gally tells the group and Liz sees Minho still wasn't here.

"Shit. He's not here. Where is he?" Elizabeth tells them going up to Teresa so she looks on the computer.

"Somebody's moved him up to the medical wing. Thomas, that's on the other side of the building." She tells her and the guys.

"Okay, take us to him. Right now." Elizabeth tells her.

"All right. I'm coming with you." Newt grabs his things.

"Newt, no, you're not. You have to stay here, wait with Gally for the serum." Thomas tells him and Elizabeth agrees.

"Minho comes first, remember?" Newt tells them and they hate that deep down.

"Just go. We're wasting time. I'll get the serum. We'll meet you out back." Gally tells them.

"Okay, fine. Let's go. Come on." Thomas gets Teresa.

The three put their masks on and follow Teresa through the building. As they get into the elevator Janson stops the door getting in with them. It takes everything in Elizabeth not to shoot him right then and there.

"You're working late." Janson looks at Teresa. "See, that's what I like about you, Teresa. No matter how bleak things get, you just... Well, you never give up. Times like this, you need a friend that you can count on." He tells her.

"I'll bare that in mind." Teresa finally speaks up.

"There is one thing you should know. One friend to another. Thomas is here." Janson says making the three slightly look at each other. "A surveillance picked him up outside the walls. Ava didn't want you to know it but there is a chance that he may try to contact you... and if he does... we'll, I'd like to think that I'd be your first call." Janson explains to her.

"Are you going to kill him?" Teresa ask looking at him.

"Would that be a problem?" Janson asks before they all get out of the elevator.

"Thomas you have to listen to me. Getting that serum won't save Newt. It might by him time, but..." Newt cuts her off.

"Just ignore her. She's trying to get inside your head." Newt grabs her.

"Thomas, listen. You know what's going on out there. People are dying. The world is dying. There's something about your blood I don't understand." Teresa says and Elizabeth starts to think about it. She had a point because Brenda has been completely fine for months.

"Let me run some test. I promise I can protect you." Teresa tells him.

"Yeah? Like you protected Minho?" Thomas takes off his mask making Newt and Liz ask him what the heck.

"How many people is it gonna take? How many more people do they have to round up, torture, kill? When the hell does it stop?" Thomas gets in her face.

"It stops when we find a cure." She tells him.

"There is no goddamn cure!" Thomas shouts at her.

"Thomas, there actually might me... Brenda hasn't ha-," He cuts Elizabeth off.

"You're letting her in your head."

#maze runner #the maze runner #tmr thomas #thomas maze runner #tmr newt #newt maze runner #tmr minho #minho maze runner #tmr teresa #teresa maze runner #tmr fanfic #the maze runner fanfic #dylan o'brien #thomas brodie-sangster #ki hong lee #kaya scoledario #will poulter #gally maze runner #tmr gally

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