#I feel like Foolish has a real shot here

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

Tubbo, finally thinking he might have a shot at 'Best Minecraft Streamer' because Quackity doesn't have enough hours to get nominated vs. Quackity H.Q. with, like, seven alts that he streamed on throughout 2023 and an extremely dedicated fanbase

[lordprettyflackotara]

Hitchhiker || The End

warning: this chapter contains content that some may find offensive and/or triggering. viewer discretion is advised.

You tried to listen.

Truthfully you considered yourself an obedient person. When it came to your boys, you’d do anything for them. Anything they’d ask of you, you’d do without another thought.

Watching Tim dart away into the winter night to fight The Operator, was one of the hardest things you’d ever seen. Being asked to stay and wait for Jack to come get you? Was the hardest thing you’d ever been asked to do. You switched your weight on each foot, gripping your knife. You could hear screams in the distance, Nova’s lifeless corpse the only thing you could see besides blinding white snow. You hated that Tim ordered you to stay put. Nova was the second person you had slaughtered for them, yet they still found you precious enough to conceal from the real danger.

Exhausted you glanced down at Nova, her once caramel skin now fading into a pale white like the snow. You crouched down beside her, gently shutting her eyes with your fingertips.

“I love you.”

As you muttered the words you realized that you loved them. Tim. Masky. Brian. Hoodie. Toby. You loved all of them and then some. Describing your admiration and endless love for them was impossible. It was a different kind of love, the kind that one comes once in a lifetime. You couldn’t be with one and not the others, that was incomprehensible. They were your lovers. Soulmates. Twin flames. No matter which way you translated it, it all ended the same.

Where ever they went, you wanted to follow them.

And if they died, you wanted to die with them.

You boldly stood to your feet, your head throbbing as you began to run. Snow crunched beneath your weight as you followed the path of the screams. Their voices became louder and louder, your heart pounding in your chest. The static was almost overbearing, tentacles flying in the air as you approached the gruesome scene. Toby was attempted to chop one of The Operator’s tentacles off, while Brian was stuck in its suffocating hold. Tim’s gun was out of bullets, the small golden shells scattered across the snowy floor. Tim was currently dodging his attacks, his feet being to slip on the ice below. “You can’t have her!” Brian, no, Hoodie screamed, the edge of his voice revealing the alter switch. You assumed The Operator to be communicating telepathically again, the boys growing more angry by the second. “F-fuck you!” Toby growled, the insult sending the odd creature over the edge. You gasped as more tentacles appeared, wrapping themselves around your lovers throats.

Your feet carried themselves in front of The Operator, the proxies thrashing and kicking in the air. If you didn’t do something he was going to choke them to death. “Stop it! Enough! I’m right here!” You exclaimed. Your knuckles were turning white from gripping your knife was tightly. You felt your heart race in anticipation as The Operator studied you.

“My dear foolish child. Your humanly emotions have brought you to your demise.”

His voice was cool and crisp, the creepiness he possessed lacing each and every word. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Let them go,” You said. You felt the boys eyes staring at the back of your head, watching your every move. “Y/n, run!” Masky tried to advise, the tentacle wrapped around his throat restricting his airway.

“No more. No more running. You guys deserve more than this,” You say. You looked over your shoulder, admiring Masky’s features. His skin was turning red from suffocation, his hands grasping at the sticky tentacle that stuck to his skin. “Let them go. They don’t deserve this,” You barked, your attention now centered on the The Operator.

“If I do that, i’ll have no proxies at all. Considering you slaughtered not one, not two, but three of my other ones!”

His slimy tentacle shot out towards you, wrapping itself around your neck. You could feel its suction cups gripping at your skin, burning it harshly as it pulsed around you. “Please! I’ll do whatever you want! I’ll replace them!” You managed to sputter out, your fingers desperately clawing to free yourself from his grasp. The Operator lifted you into the air, your feet dangling hopelessly. You kicked at the air, struggling against his strength.

“What could possibly make you believe that you could replace all of my proxies combined? You self centered fool!”

His voice boomed in your head, causing you to see stars. You blinked them away rapidly, your lungs beginning to suffer from the lack of oxygen. “I killed Cat Hunter. I killed Nova. I caused Kate’s death. I did all of those things and i’m not even a goddamn proxy!” You argued. The creature brought you closer to him, his empty face inches away from yours.

“What is supposed to demonstrate my dear?”

You gritted your teeth, your mind spinning as he restricted your airway. “It means you should’ve anticipated this!” You hissed. With the last bit of strength you had you lifted your knife, stabbing The Operator in his shoulder. For a brief moment the creature stumbled, before waves of overwhelming static flooded your ears. You gasped as you felt something fly through your stomach, causing your mouth to fall open. You looked down, one of The Operator’s tentacles impaling itself through your stomach. You faintly heard Hoodie letting out a horrified scream, seeing his tentacle emerge on the other side of you. You choked on air as he yanked his tentacle out, mountains of blood and organs sticking to his suction cups. The creature then dropped you, your body thudding to the ground. He dropped the proxies as well, the three of them scurrying to your side.

They huddled around you, Toby immediately taking your hand and cradling it. Hoodie lifted your head, placing you on his lap. He stroked your hair out of your face, your vision becoming darker by the minute. Many ripped off his mask, his eyes welted and full of tears. “Dont cry, it’s alright,” You whispered. You began coughing, sputtering up blood as you did so. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, your vision becoming blurry. “Dont do this. Please don’t go,” Hoodie said, his face becoming red from crying. You reached up, using your last bit of energy to stroke Toby’s and Masky’s face. “I’m glad it was you guys in the end,” You said softly. Hoodie cradled your head, your fingers falling from Toby’s face first. Streaks of crimson red decorated his cheek, your attention turning to Masky. You gave him a sad smile, your hand falling from exhaustion. You looked above the tree line at the sky, the moon staring back down at you.

“I love you,” You whispered to all three of them, before allowing yourself to let go.

\/

To say life was different after your death would be an understatement. Tim and Brian didn’t front anymore, your trauma too much for them to handle. Masky and Hoodie fronted permanently, taking over the shared bodies entirely. Your death brought The Operator exactly what he wanted. His proxies were back to being obedient, heartless killers. None of them were ever the same, hardly uttering anything at all. They were all haunted by the ghost of you. You lurked in their dreams, their minds. Forever and always.

Jack felt an incredible regret, upon hearing of your death. He was too blindsided by finding Nova’s corpse, his focus completely shifted. He couldn’t find it in himself to leave her body, even though her heart had stopped breathing long before he found her. The boys had decided to bury you both beside each other, far away in one of Jack’s hidden cabins that he had secluded in The Operator’s forest. Your graves sat side by side, both of you still together, even in the afterlife.

The proxies were never quite the same after your death, each of them feeling like they had lost the only thing they had ever truly loved.

Masky stood in front of your grave, watching Hoodie arrange flowers around your makeshift headstone. He inhaled his cigarette deeply, seeing Jack come around the corner from the corner of his eye. Silently Jack stood beside him, extending his hand. Masky gave him a cigarette, all of them picking up the nasty habit since you and Nova had died. “How are you holding up?” Jack asked. Hoodie’s head cocked upwards towards the window, the sound of Toby’s sobbing concerning him. Toby could never bring himself to visit your grave after the first time. Instead he opted to stay locked in his room upstairs, staring down at the grave that was now becoming overgrown with grass. Hoodie abandoned the site, walking into the house to check on the youngest proxy. “I can’t explain how I feel anymore. My thoughts are so scrambled I can’t even understand them,” Masky grumbled. Jack lifted his mask, allowing him to place his cigarette between his lips.

Masky handed him a lighter, the two looking down at their lovers graves. The two stood in comfortable silence, understanding the other one now more than ever. Jack didn’t have it in him to admit he knew your death was his fault. If Nova’s corpse hadn’t side tracked him, you’d still be alive. He tried to examine your body, to save you. But you didn’t have the proxies immortal properties and sadly, your body had long since shut down by the time he arrived at the gruesome scene. Jack knew it was his fault, even if none of them would ever admit it. His guilt led him to keep an eye on each of them, parenting them in an odd way. He had no control over The Operator, but he owed his life to them for introducing him to Nova and for failing to save your life. “It’s not your fault EJ,” Masky finally said. Jack furrowed his eyebrows, looking over at him. “We both know it was and you have no idea how much guilt consumes me everyday,” Jack replied.

Masky exhaled through his nose, the smoke evaporating into the air. “The Operator was never going to let us have her. To let her live. We tried to change our destiny. And sometimes, it’s our destiny whether we like it or not,” He grumbled. Masky couldn’t help but remember your sweet face, soft smile, doe eyes. He’d give up anything to touch you, even just for a moment.

Love is short. Forgetting is long. When you’re a hitchhiker, you’ll spend eternity remembering, no matter how much you wished you could forget.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Fourteen: We're Running Out Of Time

Gates Of Hell [Masterlist]

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, horror, blood, this is not proof read and that's probably the biggest warning

[A/N: I rushed through this entire chapter so I'm so sorry if it is terrible but I just wanted to write one specific scene and- I'll shut up now. Enjoy :)]

We're Running Out Of Time

“... what?”

Everything was frozen in a compressed motion, only the erratic beat of your heart ensuring you were still living, breathing, in the moment.

Three weeks ago, you had followed El through the mothergate, a silent promise to find your sister when she was nowhere to be found. You had fought your way through the Upside Down, slaying monsters, collecting scars and bruises.

And three weeks later, you find out it was all for nothing. El didn’t need to be found.

She was never missing.

A voice that undoubtedly belonged to her was telling you all of this through the radio gripped tightly in your hand, feeling like your mind was drifting in and out of consciousness. You had been tricked so easily. A shapeshifter- a mirage. It knew exactly what buttons it needed to push, the nuclear code that led to your heart, your guilt. And now, three weeks later, you were sat on the floor of the Radio Shack in the darker version of your home, beside a boy that didn’t deserve this. Steve didn’t deserve your foolishness.

Maybe he was right, back in that arcade mere days before freshman year. You could only ever ruin people.

“Y/n.” Steve reaches out to take your hand, gently rubbing his thumb across your knuckles. You look up at him, frowning.

Rather than speak, you silently hand him the radio and slip away, resting your back against the very wall he had broken down on earlier.

“Hello? Anyone there? Over.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re-” Steve pauses, eyes widening. “Henderson?”

“Son of a bitch!” Dustin responds in a gleeful tone, striking a smile on his face. “I knew you weren’t dead! Over.”

“Yeah, man, all safe and sound down here.” Steve risks a glance over to you, but your eyes are focused somewhere else, glazed. “Wait, how the hell is this possible right now?”

There’s a long pause and he thinks the radio must have lost contact until Dustin’s disapproving tone drops in.

“You didn’t say over. Over.”

If Steve wasn’t so happy right now, he’d find a way to reach through that phone and tackle him. “Whatever. Over.”

“Okay so basically I have been playing around with the idea of creating my own ham radio. That’s a big radio for longer distances by the way. Over.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, get to the point. Over.”

“Well, we weren’t sure if it was gonna reach down to you. Cerebro, that is. Like in X-Men? When Professor X needs to locate other mutants- Ow! What the hell Mike?- Oh, right, yeah. Anyway, I recorded a message on this thing maybe two weeks ago and we’ve been broadcasting it ever since. Pretty sweet, right? Over.”

“Pretty, uh, pretty sweet, man.” Steve praises, running a hand through his hair as his concern centres on you. “Any chance you’ve built a portal back to the real Hawkins?… Over.”

The static blares into the silence again and Steve tightens his lips. You finally meet his eyes, offering a small smile with all the willpower you could muster. He really can’t imagine how you out of everyone must be feeling right now. He understands it, at least. Being strong enough to sacrifice and protect, but too unprepared to deal with the consequences.

“Hey, Mike here.” Mike speaks and Steve returns his attention, taking a deep breath to recentre. “So, it’s a long shot, but… we might have a way to get you both out of there.”

You’re beside him in a flash, gently taking the radio into your own hands with determination. “Seriously.”

“The gates haven’t completely disappeared.” Mike explains, a faint sound of rustling in the background. “They’ve just been opening and closing one at a time. Hopper has been trying to track them down but they haven’t stayed open long enough to catch ‘em.”

“There’s no pattern?” You ask, scrunching your face. The last thing you want to do is run around Hawkins hoping a gate would appear, especially not with the demons lurking down here.

“Actually, yeah. They’ve opened at Lake Jordan, Lover’s Lake, even the community pool.”

“So it’s water-based?”

“Exactly. Except the thing is, we’ve ran out of water-based gates- what? - I’m not saying that, it’s stupid- No- I… ugh, fine. - The watergates hit every lake and pond. We’ve pretty much ran out of water so, we have no idea where it’s gonna hit next. - What now? - No, go away, I already said your stupid name. - Beca-”

You assume the boys are continuing their fight as you let out a breath, brows scrunched together.

“Great.” Steve mutters, shaking his head. “Now we have to figure out where the next gate is gonna be and, I’ll be honest, I’m not great at hide and seek. Not the hide, and especially not the seek.”

Something clatters in the distance and you both turn, on high alert.

“Sorry, Mike again. Dustin was… Dustin.” He returns, panting slightly. “We’re gonna keep working on it but at least we found you now. Hopper should be back soon and I know you’ll probably have a lot to talk about.”

The static blares out, feeling heavy in your hand as Steve slowly stretches from his crouch to peer over the top of the shelves. Nothing was in here with you, thankfully. But he can just make out a shadow outside, growing bigger and bigger…

“Hello? Guys?”

Steve’s head whips to the radio, stomach plummeting. “Shit, turn it-”

The shrill sound of glass shattering makes him duck down in an instant, something breathing in heavy and uneven intervals, crashing between the shelves and hurtling towards you.

You scramble to shut off the radio, cutting off the cries from the kids and shoving it into Steve’s bag. You could deal with it later when you weren’t dead.

Steve swoops up the backpack and holds a finger to his lips, the other hand pointing down the aisle furthest to your left. You both keep low, eyes on the ground to avoid stepping on anything that could announce your location to whatever was hunting you. And, just as you follow Steve around the corner, you both hear it searching the aisle beside you, grateful to have made the right decision.

Whatever it was, it wasn’t as slow as the other things you’ve battled and, much like everything else, you figured it depended on hearing. You and Steve weren’t amateurs in this game of prey and predator, especially since finding literally everything down here wanted to eat you. Escaping was your speciality, and right now you feared it was the only option.

As you take slow and silent steps, crouched on the opposite aisle, you can just make out its dark black shape stalking between the shelves.

You don’t feel like you can breathe, hands balled into fists as you use your peripheral vision to guide you towards Steve, eyes never leaving the shadowed figure. You’re scared that if you look away, it would immediately find you when you were distracted.

That was a crucial mistake.

Your next footstep landed directly on a musty wrapper, a sharp sound of a crinkle echoing out when you accidentally crush it with your boot.

Steve’s eyes go wide, head snapping back to you as your blood ran cold, a fearful gaze meeting his. Fuck.

You anxiously look back between the shelves.

Pale white eyes are staring directly at you, unwavering as terror slices through your spine.

And then it screams.

Its wail is ear-piercing, inflicting pain on you both as you tumble over, trying to cover your ears to muffle out its sound. You couldn’t run if you wanted, feeling completely paralysed by the high-pitched drone of this creature’s cry.

Steve feels something damp against his palms as he groans against the relentless stabbing against every nerve in his brain. Whatever this thing was, its screech was damaging you both beyond repair. He needed to get you both out. He needed to stop it before there was no coming back.

In a split second decision, Steve bears the pain long enough to prop himself up on one knee and use his free leg to kick as hard as he can against the shelves, boot shaking the frame. The display topples over, landing with a heavy thump against the creature and cutting off its cry.

Steve sighs in relief, blinking back into the blissful silence. His headache was booming as he clicks his jaw, desperate to relieve the stress on his eardrums. He turns back to you, noticing how you’ve brought both hands in front of you, staring down at the red dye with a tired concentration.

There were trickles of blood coming from your ears and down your nose, the aftermath of the screech. And, judging by how wet his upper lip felt, he knew his own face matched.

He sees the body beneath the shelves start to twitch, trying to regain consciousness below the rubble of trinkets.

“We have to go.” He tries saying, his own voice muffled by his ears.

You don’t hear him and he groans, steadying himself by gripping onto the fallen wooden frame and pushing himself to his feet. The world span as he wrapped an arm around you, pointing to the exit.

Steve wasn’t sure if you would both make it to safety stumbling away from the crime scene, and that thought stayed with him even when you were both out of view of the Radio Shack. It lingered, like the thought always did whenever you both set out for your search.

Mostly, he was just afraid he was going to lose you at any second.

Never before was Steve so relieved to be stood in the murky Motel 6 bathroom, staring at his worn expression. Every time you both make it back here, he can’t believe he’s still alive.

He had torn up an old t-shirt you had found rummaging through what would have been the Byers house, the fabric easily wiping away the larger chunks of dried blood on his face. How many new creatures did that make now? 10? 11? He lost track too many fights ago.

Feeling much better, he takes the moments to simply breathe, flexing his fingers against the ceramic sink. This was a lot harder than he thought. Mentally. Physically. He couldn’t be more grateful he wasn’t doing this alone.

His head snaps up, suddenly aware of the ghost of your presence.

“Hey,” He peers around the door, walking out. “Bathroom’s free if you…”

Steve stops. You never even made it to the bed, back against the front door, eyes drooping.

“Shit. Hold on.” He rushes over to you, grabbing your face in his hands. He knows you were slightly closer to the blasted scream, but not far enough to be affected any worse than he was. But you looked physically weak, your attempted speech slurring as you have to blink yourself back into consciousness.

Steve helps you to your feet, guiding you towards the bathroom to sit you at the toilet so he can tear another rag from the tee, constant glances of worry being sent your way.

By the time his hands found your face again, you were wide awake, frowning around you. You didn’t even recollect making it to the motel.

One hand cups your chin as the other gently wipes away the blood from your upper lip. You try to protest, claim you could do this yourself, but Steve wasn’t taking objections. He tilts your head to the side, swiping away the trickle of blood from your ear down to your neck…

He pauses, breath hitching. Your eyes squeeze shut.

Black veins were creeping up out of your collar, slithering along your throat and stopping just below your chin, marking you cursed. Steve should have known your ail wasn’t from the monster you just encountered.

“It’s okay.” You say, trying to meet his eyes.

“None of this is fucking okay.” He says, but it comes out as a whisper despite the endless echo of screams raging through his mind. He tries to go back to finishing up on your nose when you gently lower his hand, holding it between both of yours.

“Steve.”

“I thought we had more time.” He admits, a sad laugh falling in a broken sob, trying to hold it together.

“Maybe we do.” You try, smiling up at him. But your eyes were telling a different story.

Steve had been noticing it but never acknowledging it for as long as you’ve been trying to hide it. The breathless exhale of excursion any time you had to face a beast. The way you’ve only been able to hit two locations before your body screams for rest, muttering excuses to get back to the motel. And that smile you always gave him, slowly losing its shine like a lost star plummeting from the sky. He ignored it all because some part of him was stupid enough to think it wasn’t going to end like this.

“This isn’t fair.” A single tear rolls down his cheek and your breath hitches. “You don’t… you don’t deserve this.”

For a moment, you don’t speak, mouth opening and closing with words scratched away before they could hit the air.

“Do you remember the day this all started?” You suddenly ask, looking up at him. His brows are furrowed, nodding his head. “I remember… I remember being sat in that chair dreading ever leaving it. I, uh, I thought detention was going to save me from facing my problems. That’s why I was in there in the first place. I found an opportunity and I exploited it enough to bide myself some more time before I had to realise what a shitty human being I was.”

“You’re not a shitty human-”

“But I was.” You shrug, pushing the hair away from your face. “I was so selfish. And arrogant. And before those screams echoed out, before Holloway disappeared, before you even walked into the room, I was realising that I had ruined myself. I was so adamant on proving I didn’t need anybody that I was completely and utterly alone.”

“And then,” You look up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “And then the freaking apocalypse started and as awful and wrong as it sounds… it’s starting to feel like it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Because I found reasons not to be selfish anymore, and- and to realise I didn’t have to alienate people just because I was afraid they were going to leave.”

Your hands start to intertwine themselves with Steve’s.

“Even though that thing bit me… I’m perfectly happy knowing that I was becoming the person I always should have been. You made me not want to be a shitty person anymore.”

His hands squeeze yours, his body leaning forward to rest your foreheads against eachother. Tears start to escape your eyes in silent paths, feeling completely and utterly comforted by the boy you once called an enemy.

“I was starting to wonder when you’d say something nice about me.” Steve eventually quips and you laugh, pulling away from him.

“Don’t get used to it, Harrington.” You chuckle, your hand involuntarily reaching up and brushing away the hairs that fell in the path of his eyes. You notice a look in his eye you had never caught before, smiling. “What’s that look for?”

He flickers between your eyes, softened and sad, his thumb reaching up to brush against your cheek. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but your heart starts to race. You’ve grown used to a pit in your stomach since being down here, a dread. But this was different. Butterflies. And the way Steve was looking at you sent them soaring.

Steve leans in closer, glancing down at your lips. Every nerve in your body was alight, the incomprehensible tension building when you don’t pull away to the moment he finally speaks, words feather-light like you were the only one who deserved to hear them.

“I’m not ready for you to leave me.”

The first touch of his lips against yours was tentative, a feather-light connection that sent shivers down both your spines. It was a sweet and slow, the world around you fading away as if you and he were the only two souls in existence.

The kiss deepened once Steve realised this wasn’t a dream, pulling you impossibly closer with his hands cupping your cheeks, a mixture of passion and vulnerability woven into the embrace. Only the sound of your heartbeats could remind you time wasn’t truly standing still.

When you finally pulled away, both of your eyes still remained closed, trying to live in the moment as long as you could before reality could pull you back into its cold embrace. Steve wanted to stay here for as long as it could, holding you. He would willingly bend time to relive this moment over and over until it was the sweetest broken record.

“We, uh…” You start in a whisper, chest rising and falling in desperation for his lips to fall against yours once again. But you couldn’t fall back into it from fear of never leaving it again. “We should probably get some rest.”

“Yeah.” He whispers back, barely a breath away from you with a hand resting on your cheek. “I, uh… I’ll take first watch.”

It took his manual control of every muscle in his body to step away from you and not pull you back into him once more, choosing to leave the room before he imploded. He exhaled a long breath, a hand running through his hair as he smiled against the warmth of his flushed face. Part of him still couldn’t believe this was reality. Perhaps it wasn’t. Perhaps it truly was in his greatest dreams.

You leave the bathroom a few seconds later, hiding a smile behind your hair as you lay on the bed. You watch as he settles himself on the ground, back against the bed frame and preparing for a long night of staring at the door.

You felt light-headed in the most wonderful way, giddy. It was almost impossible to have a rush of these emotions fluttering in your chest, but it was there, acting as a safety blanket around your heart. But once you close your eyes, its like they’re being snatched away from you as the fear comes rolling in.

The virus was almost at your brain and soon, you would be nothing but a mindless monster hell-bent for the thirst of blood. And no matter how many times you convinced Steve you were okay with it, never once had you managed to convince yourself.

“Steve?”

Your small voice was a surprise, calling out to him in the darkness. He twists himself to find your form, resting his arm on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah?”

“Can you…” You pause, striking his curiosity with your hesitancy. “Nevermind.”

“Tell me.” He says softly, propping one of his legs up as he shifted on the floor.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

It took all of five seconds for Steve to abandon his post and walk around the bed, propping his bat against it as he lowered himself next to you. He felt nervous, unsure of what you truly meant by your request.

And then you roll over, slotting into him perfectly as he automatically wraps his arms around you, holding you.

Steve was the first to wake up, blinking up at the ceiling before mentally punishing himself for falling asleep in the first place. He was meant to take the shift tonight.

Gently shifting out of your embrace, he moves to the small mirror in the bathroom and pushes his hair back, taking a deep breath. And then he remembers, a smile spreading across his face with a small yet noticeable dimple denting his right cheek.

And then the reality hits, blinking him out of his own happiness. He promised himself he would get you out of here, back home.

He grabs the forgotten radio after rooting through his backpack, switching it back on and spewing out tiny curses under his breath. Shit, would this even reach them anymore? How would he even contact them? What if that was your only chance to-

“This is Echo Base, come in Falcon. Over.”

The familiar recorded message almost brought a tear to his eye as he brings it to his lips.

“Hey, it’s Steve. Anyone there?”

Static blares through and then the message starts again. Another muttered curse.

“It’s Steve. We’re here. Over?”

He waits all of five seconds before the static cuts out again, this time answering his call with a voice he never wanted to hear ever again.

“Well if it isn’t Harrington. We all thought you were roadkill.”

A shot of anger festers in his chest. Billy.

“Where the hell are the others?” Steve asks through gritted teeth, not in the mood for Billy’s antics.

“Busy.”

“Great.” Steve mutters to himself, taking a deep breath and reminding himself he only needed to get through this one conversation. “We, uh, we got cut off last time. We were trying to find out how to get the hell out of here.”

“Yeah, I can probably help you with that.”

“So?”

“So, I’ll give some instructions.” A pause. “Only gonna tell ‘em to Y/n, though.”

Steve’s blood boiled.

“Tell me what?” You showed up, looking sleepy but mostly confused.

You were using your fingers to brush through your hair, a hazy smile on your face as you met Steve’s eyes. His shoulders relaxed, admiring how he could feel this deeply about you even barely 3 minutes out of consciousness.

“Uh,” Steve clears his throat, holding out the radio. “Billy wants to speak to you.”

You roll your eyes, taking it from him and making him chuckle at how uninterested you seemed.

“I’m here.” You say, waiting for the response.

“Hey, princess.”

Steve wrinkles his nose in disgust and you pinch the bridge of yours, shaking your head.

“I told you not to call me that.” You sigh, leaning against the door frame. “What have you got for me?”

“Damn, I don’t think I can say when there’s kids around- ugh, fucking hell, fine. Take it.” He scoffs. “Later, princess.”

“Later, princess.” Steve mocks under his breath, looking back in the mirror. He catches your smirk in the reflection.

“Hi, it’s Max. Sorry about that.” Max cuts in and you find yourself smiling. “We’re currently on shifts so the boys aren’t here but Dustin did leave a message. He wanted us to tell you that they’ve been tracking some kind of signature using… shit, I don’t know, fancy technology or whatever. It can detect when another is gonna appear except it uses some kind of tracking in the water? Does that make sense to you? They know the gates appear at the heart of the bodies of water… okay, this makes literally no sense, I’m gonna kill him.”

Steve frowns. Heart of the bodies of water? They had already ran out of lakes in Hawkins, ponds were few and far between, there was no other possible options-

You gasp and he looks at you inquisitively while you bring the radio closer.

“I know where the next gate will be.”

Chapter Fifteen: Sattler's Quarry ->

taglist: @toomanyfandomsimfanvergent . @sheisjoeschateau . @kthomps914 . @curled-hair-red-lips . @nix-rose . @palmtreesx3 . @kryztalglear . @sattlersquarry . @hey-barnes-stole-a-jeep . @sadslasher13 . @iliveonteaandbooks . @innercreationflower . @newyorkangelbaby

[myloveismineallmine]

part 2!

honestly I have a lot ground to cover in terms of songs used for Carmy and Claire. Some are kind of sad. Some are really fucking funny. This one is kinda both.

We'll start with the first song we hear playing with Carmy and Claire: Strange Currencies by R.E.M.

The actual lyrics have little to do with what's going on in the scene, Claire and Carmen are conversing over most of the lyrics. It's not until the third verse that the volume increases and the lyrics become audible. But I'm still gonna talk about the first half of the song, because why not?

"I don't know why you're mean to me When I call on the telephone And I don't know what you mean to me But I want to turn you on, turn you up, figure you out I wanna take you on ..."

Okay, so this first verse is very Claire coded right off the bat. But I do think this song is actually more about Carmy's feelings, and really I can just about guarantee you it is because this song plays twice in the show. R.E.M. songs also have a tendency to play in scenes with Carmen specifically.

"These words, "You will be mine" These words, "You will be mine", all the time

The fool might be my middle name But I'd be foolish not to say I'm going to make whatever it takes Bring you up, call you down, sign your name, secret love Make it rhyme, take you in, and make you mine

These words, "You will be mine" These words, "You will be mine," all the time, oh

I tripped and fell, did I fall What I want to feel, I want to feel it now"

Do not lose hope, fellow sydcarmys. These lyrics are deceptively romantic. But yes, this is what is playing during the conversation w/ Carm and Claire. What is of more interest is the verse that we do finally hear:

"And now with love come strange currencies And here is my appeal I need a chance, a second chance, a third chance, a fourth chance A word, a signal, a nod, a little breath Just to fool myself, to catch myself, to make it real, real"

So the show actually cuts to credits after "And here is my appeal." The rest of the song does play to the end, though.

Interesting that the one verse we hear is the one that just completely invalidates the romantic message of the song.

Like. I could end the post right here, folks.

But I will expand further-- this song, to me, is about Carmy trying to convince himself that he loves Claire.

"These words, "You will be mine" These words, they haunt me, hunt me down, catch in my throat, make me pray Say, love's confined, oh"

This is the final verse of the song. The words "catch in my throat." Probably because... he doesn't actually mean them. This is also foreshadowing that he feels confined in love with Claire.

R.E.M. has plenty of love songs. So the fact they used one where the message of the song is repeating the words "I love you" in an attempt to convince yourself/others you're in love is.....curious.

This song is also used a second time in the show, but in a very different context, so I wanted to touch on that too:

A distorted version of Strange Currencies plays as Carmen has a panic attack in the alley.

The first flashback we see is actually his intimate moment with Claire.

The next flashback cuts are all footage of Claire; drawings of her, old photos, and beauty shots. There is finally a flashback of Mikey talking about Claire mixed in, followed by more shots of Claire. After that, more shots of his family with Claire mixed in at random intervals. Throughout all of this, Strange Currencies plays with the audio distorted and words reversed. Until...

Strange Currencies begins to play as normal when the flashback of Sydney plays. Specifically the lyrics "These words, You will be mine, These words, You will be mine, All the time."

In the middle of this verse, after a shot of Carmy calming down, we immediately cut to Syd.

Then, on her: "The fool may be my middle name, But I'd be foolish, not to say."

After this lyric, the song fades out and we cut to a scene with Carm and Sugar.

I think there's a difference in the one audible verse during the Carm+Claire scene being one invalidating the romantic tone of the song, and the one that pays with Carm+Syd cutting off before the cracks in the romantic message of the song become apparent.

But I'm still not entirely convinced this song is really meant to be read as a true romantic one. Which is actually fine, since so far in my research I've already found a good amount of actual romantic songs used for Syd and Carmy anyway? This whole song just has very strong red herring vibes to me.

I'll be continuing these song analysis posts, and hopefully more frequently after I'm done with finals. Let me know your thoughts on this one.

[stardust948]

🌹🌹🌹

Ghost AU

Zuko laid wide awake on his bed still in his crisp white funeral robes. Firelord Azulon’s funeral was mere hours ago and yet it felt like the whole world had caved in on itself. Everyone mourned Azulon and praised the freshly crowned Ozai, but no one said a word about Ursa. Not father. Not the servants. Not even Azula after this morning when she taunted him. Ursa’s room was stripped bare and painting taken down.

It was like she never existed.

“Where are you Mom…” Zuko whispered. “Why did you leave me?”

A tear rolled down his cheek. Then another. Zuko buried his head into the pillow and cried. He didn’t care that it was the trait of weakness and vulnerability. No one can see him. He was alone.

Truly alone now.

Foolish boy.

Zuko flinched. Someone was here. Must be one of the servants. How did he not hear them come in?

“I didn’t give permission to enter. Leave!”

Tch. Why am I wasting my time?

Sadness quickly turned to anger as he shot up and snared. “How dare-“

The words died on his tongue. The intruder was no servant. Even with his back towards him heading for the door, Zuko knew.

“G-Grandfather…?”

Azulon turned as surprise covered his face. He was still in his sleepwear with his hair loose. But what disturbed Zuko the most was his skin. His whole body really. Nearly transparent. Like it was almost whole but not really. Caught in between.

The boy is spirit touched.

“N-No. This isn’t happening. You’re dead!”

Obviously. Azulon drew closer to the frighten boy. Do you know why?

Zuko closed his eyes and beat his head. “This isn’t real!”

Answer me boy!

Azulon’s tone left know room for argument. Zuko instantly sat up like he was drilled to by his tutors.

“H-Heart failure?”

Azulon let out a bitter laugh. Yes I supposed that would happen after ingesting POISON!

Zuko scooted back, terrified.

“What are you tal-“

Where’s your wretched mother?!

“I-I…”

She did this to me! To preserve you!

Zuko’s eyes widened. Azula was right.

Father really was going to kill him per Azulon’s request. But Mom…

I vowed to haunt that wretch for the rest of her miserable life for what she did to me. Azulon glared at Zuko. But… even the best laid plan can be modified.

“Grandfather…?”

Until you die boy. Azulon walked right towards him.

“W-Wait. Stay back!” Zuko threw a fireball at him but it merely phased through.

Or until he finally kills you.

Azulon phased right through Zuko and disappeared. The boy shivered uncontrollably. He wrapped himself in the covers then pulled his knees to his chest; teeth still clattering. It was just a dream. He’ll wake up soon.

He has to.

~*~

Sokka liked to stay busy.

Idle hands meant an idle mind as Dad would always say. There was a lot that needed to be done now that all the men left for war. Dad entrusted him to see it done. It was hard of course, but the work was a much-needed distraction.

Sokka was going mad.

When alone, he’d felt a presence hovering close by. Caught a flash of faded blue or the tail end of a hum. Worse yet, the feeling, the presence, was achingly familiar. But whenever Sokka turned around to face it, they vanished.

Dehydration. Hunger. Artic illusions. Midnight Sun madness.

The list went on. But deep down, Sokka knew what it was.

“Just show yourself already!” he yelled when the presence drew practically close that day. Tears welled up in his eyes. “Please Mom… I’m starting to forget…”

Nothing.

Sokka furiously wiped his eyes then went back to sharpening his weapon; his heart hardening with each swipe.

~*~

Katara wished she could forget.

She fainted the first time she saw her mother burned and maimed beyond recognition; her young mind was unable to process it. She screamed the second time when the wispy figure slipped into their hut in the dead of night whispering her name. Gran-Gran convinced her it was just a nightmare. After the fourth time in broad daylight, Katara was not convinced.

Sweetie please… I know you can see me.

Katara squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head.

Kya sighed. Alright. I’m… I’m sorry. This is so hard for you. I didn’t want to… Katara heard her voice crack. I’ll leave you in peace-

“NO!”

Katara threw herself in Kya’s direction. She passed through something and fell onto the snow shivering.

“Don’t go Mom! Please don’t leave me!!!”

Her face was melted and disfigured, skin charred and clothes blacken from fire and ash, but she was still her mother. Katara still loved her. Always.

“Don’t go…”

Oh my girl.

Katara became unnaturally cold again, trembling down to her soul.

I’m here Katara. I’m here...

[wh0refornikolailantsov]

could i request a nikolai x reader imagine with a drunken confession from either party that leads to awkwardness the next day and then a real and sober confession?

Y e s. Sorry to keep you waiting, had a busy week.

On The Rocks - Nikolai Lantsov

Content Warnings: Alcohol Consumption. Drunken Confessions. Suggestive Content. Explicit Language. Not Beta/Proof Read.

Nikolai Taglist: @hauntedenthusiasttragedy , @writingmysanity

It was a dumb statement, clearly all ego and no sense and if Nikolai had thought about it even for a moment he would not have pushed his boastful comment into something he needed to prove, but he was already six shots in when the words left his mouth, and they didn't fall on deaf ears.

"I could still drink you under the table, Kir Bataar," he states, that grin of his so foxlike and devious even without the alcohol spurring him on.

Tamar laughs and she is ready to let it go, but he holds her gaze and Tamar wasn't born to back down from a challenge. "Want to test that, Captain?" She asks, raising a glass.

"This I have to see," you whisper into your drink.

Now you know, Tolya knows, and Tamar knows you should have cut him off a while ago. But it is hard to get Nikolai to listen to sense even at the best of times. It's often just rebutted with "I prefer to live on a healthy diet of impulsivity and regret." And you know how much he will regret when his head is hammering in the morning.

Tamar is still able to hustle cards while Nikolai is forcibly being tapped out. "I'm going to make sure he makes it to his bed in one piece," you tell the others.

"Don't let him drag you overboard," Tolya calls after you.

"Or into bed," Tamar adds before knocking back the last of her drink. You laugh at them both before guiding Nikolai out.

The alcohol has reduced his normally expansive vocabulary, and excessive capability to talk to the limit of your name. Like a request, a need, a prayer. Only your name over and over.

You're trying to ignore him, he is always charming, always flirty, but this... This feels specific. "Any port in a storm," you mumble. Nikolai drunk as he might be looks offended.

"You doubt my intention," he asks. His smile is soft and his eyes don't leave you, if you didn't know how much he had drank you'd almost believe it was really you he wanted, and not just because you are here and he is drunk.

"I doubt that you would be looking at me with those eyes if you weren't drunk," you tell him, making sure to keep him a distance from the edge of ship.

"I crave you," he admits, looking up at the sky, "you might notice that I'm in love with you to the point of breathlessness, if you weren't always looking the other way."

Your throat is suddenly sand dry and you think you might forget how to swallow, but then Nikolai is tripping up over the deck and you remember just how much he has had to drink. It would be foolish, you tell yourself, to put any merit to drunken confessions, things he would not otherwise say. But it doesn't stop your heart from begging you to reach out to him. But you've gotten pretty good at ignoring your heart until now, why should tonight be any different?

"If you keep walking like that Captain you won't get to your-" he pulls you in close, keeping you steady and your words fall short.

"See," he smirks and you can smell the bourbon, "perfectly balanced."

"It's cruel you know," you tell him, keeping your voice genuine but not scolding. "To play games with someones feelings just because you've had enough alcohol to not think your actions have consequences."

He frowns, and in the moonlight you can recognise that look of hurt in those eyes of his, all traces of Sturmhond long gone and just the boy prince remains.

"Come on," you remind him, "before you start the rumours going about why it took me so long to get back."

You wake him with a tall glass of water and he scrunches his face. "Couldn't you spare me some whisky?"

"After your performance last night?" You laugh, "no, Captain, I don't think I can. You drank like a fish, I can imagine your head hurts."

You're not incorrect, his head does hurt, but he wakes to the pain in his chest running a close competition to the banging in his skull.

His memories break the fog of the thumping pain and he wants to have words with himself, strong and explicit. That is not how he wanted to do things.

"I'm sorry," he says, "I was out of line."

"You were drunk, besides it isn't like I took you seriously, I know better," you tell him. That stings Nikolai more than he thought it would.

"What do you mean by that?" He asks, sitting up right.

"I just mean to say I know you have no real interest in me Captian, so I didn't take drunken flirting to heart," you explain.

"What makes you say that?" He asks. You look at him with softness and you are met with almost sad eyes- needy, wanting, restless. The ocean of emotions swimming in that gaze nearly knocks you breathless.

"I," you manage a breath, "Nikolai you cannot ask me that, it's unfair, if I think about the possibility of your feelings for me too long, I get dizzy and lightheaded. I cannot let myself get lost in the illusion youd have feelings for me, it's not fair to me."

"Do you have feelings for me?" He asks.

"That is a bold and frankly unfair question," you start.

"I have not said an untrue word, sober or otherwise, so I need ask, do you have feelings for me, because I want nothing more than to be clear and honest about the depths of mine."

You feel the air in your lungs tight in your chest. "You meant it?"

"I meant it," the look he holds you with is stronger than any physical grip you've ever known. "Do you?"

"I like you," you say a little coy.

"You... like me?" He smirks, edging closer.

"I really like you," you try, leaning to lessen the space.

"I was hoping for maybe a different word," Nikolai admits.

"Want?" You offer. Something in his eyes lights up.

"Oh, that word might be even better,l"

"Here, now?"

"Those are my favourites so far."

[yourghostwrotethis]

Fic Recs #4

Hello and welcome back to the fourth instalment of my fic rec posts! Check out #1 here, #2 here, and #3 here. All of these can also be found in my #fic rec tag!

This post (well, these fics) are brought to you thanks to the work of the wondrous mods over at @aziraphales-library! Check them out if you haven’t already, and give them a big thank you :)

Please do recommend stuff to me! (See at the end for what I like, and of course, I wouldn’t rec these if I hadn’t liked them, so they’re also an indicator of my tastes!)

This post has four long fics and two short fics, with varying tropes and styles!

The Ghost of Husbands Past (E)

by A_N_D (@madenthusiasms)

Az always knew that he’d be thrown out the moment his father found out he was gay. He hadn’t expected to be declared dead though - or for his husband to believe it!

But their marriage had been a foolish teenage impulse (not to mention invalid in America), so when Az moved to a small town far upstate New York to start his new life, he moved alone. The kindest thing he could do was let Crowley mourn and move on, not be shackled for life to a now disabled partner.

Tony Crowley never recovered from losing his best friend, his childhood sweetheart, his better half. He’d been drifting ever since; no plans, no hope, no money - and now, just before Thanksgiving, no job either. 

Given the stark choice of freezing to death or accepting his sister’s invitation to join her upstate, Tony reluctantly lives out the Hallmark cliche of Recently Unemployed Person Moves to Small Town for Christmas.

It’s a time of hope, love, and family.

It’s time for Az and Tony to find each other again.

Words: 94042 (Complete)

If you like fics that don’t hesitate before punching you in the gut, this is one of them. From the very first chapter, one is intrigued by the mystery of the whole story, and the events are so unpredictable that I can guarantee you’re in for an eventful ride.

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Talk about the weather (M)

by nightbloomingcereus (@moondawntreader)

Television meteorologist Aziraphale Fell and Youtube storm chaser A. J. Crowley have nothing in common aside from a purely professional interest in the weather and a mutually beneficial arrangement to lend a hand when needed. So what if they bicker and flirt more than your typical professional acquaintances, or if their arrangement inevitably veers into more personal territory? It's not as if they're in love or anything. Absolutely not.

Words: 81582 (Complete)

I binged this fic in one evening and it was wonderful. It’s very fluffy, and the whole thing feels like it falls into place naturally. The banter is wonderful, and I’d associate this fic with the word “happy” because that’s what I felt when I was reading it. It’s so nice, and I love human AUs and social media ones - this is a great mix of the two!

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The Plantom Menace (G)

by theinkwell33 (@splitting-infinities)

There is an urban legend well known in this area regarding The Plant Man. Footage exists, blurry and ill-lit, of the trespassing fiend, but it never provides a good look at his face. He exists only as a rumor; a giggled whisper in someone’s ear at the pub, an inside joke at uni, and a viral sensation. None of these things mean he is not real. That being said, the only person who can corroborate the truth about the Plant Man is the man himself. And unfortunately, Anthony J. Crowley has no idea that it’s him.

Words: 3608 (Complete)

Short, sweet, and hilariously funny, this fic is a lovely outsider POV one shot featuring mundane events in the ineffable pair’s lives. I’d already read this a long time ago and it cracked me up as much now as it did back then. Filled with funny meta jokes and real humour, this is golden.

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An Educator’s Guide to Latin and Lobsters (G)

by theinkwell33 (tagged above)

Aziraphale's been saddled with chaperone duty on a school field trip to the aquarium, even though he's a Latin professor who knows absolutely nothing about fish. One would think it'd be his downfall, but it turns out the only one it slays is one Anthony Crowley, marine biologist and harried aquarium employee.

Words: 3729 (Complete)

Another short story by the same author, with a delightfully harried Mr. Fell and just-socially-awkward-enough Crowley. If you know nothing about fish, like mermaids, or want to read a short and sweet meeting fic, this is for you (no one needs to know which).

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Across the Line (T)

by hope_in_the_dark (@hope-inthedark)

Ezra is a student in his final year at University College London, and he’s in love with a man he’s never spoken to. For months, Ezra has been tipping (and pining after) a musician named Crowley every time he sees him. He thinks that Crowley hasn’t noticed him, but Crowley has.  A love story that begins with, of all things, the saving and handing over of a book.  (Written for the Good Omens Mini Bang. Multi-chapter human AU - updates every week until completion!)

Words: 31006 (Complete)

This story is just… fluff. Pure fluff. Tooth-rotting fluff. No conflicts. It’s great! It’s a very cute story featuring a beautiful tale of falling in love, but with some stuff that makes it extra special. It feels real, in a way, unlike many of the stories told in fan fiction (this isn’t a problem, just a statement of fact), and there are small things that make it mean the world to me. Gender non-conforming Crowley, neurodivergent Aziraphale, plus some extra bonus tropes, AND it’s ace… this is sweet and lovely :)

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And to finish off this list…

Thieves of Mercy (T)

by Fyre (@amuseoffyre)

The Serpent has a reputation in the art world. A master thief who can wriggle into the tightest spots and extract the most well-protected paintings from the richest people in the world. He’s never even come close to being caught. Except just now. For a crime he didn’t commit. In a museum where he was scoping out his next job. Crowley’s not one to be petty but he’s not about to let anyone frame him, even if the person in question seems to be nothing more than an innocent, wide-eyed art restorer who works in the museum… _________________________________

When Good Omens meets art thievery and heist shenanigans

Words: 64168 (Complete)

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HEIST FIC! HEIST FIC!

This story is seriously amazing, and I love it to bits. It has art history, found family, snarky jokes, mistaken identity, and everything that comes with the pair being (thick as) thieves! I could rant about this for ages. Don’t test me. (Or please do.) It’s just amazing and unexpected and a nice breath of fresh air after reading so many tropes! (And I like those! But after staying cosy in bed for the whole day, you do have to let some fresh air in, and that’s exactly what this is!) There are twists and turns and plot turnarounds that will leave you dumbfounded, and things don’t necessarily turn out how you’d expect.

This also reminds me of wasteland, baby which I previously recced - it has the same basic atmosphere, but a very different structure!

.

Please recommend fics! I’ll admit I haven’t had time to read many in a few months, but here are my tastes:

I am a VERY BIG FAN of AUs (usually human ones). Give me them!! Coffee shop, fake relationships, social media, soulmates, anything! Of course I like other stuff - and I do have some particular soft spots, notably for the Bentley - so please do recommend anything that you liked, it doesn’t matter whether it’s short and complete, or long and ongoing, or any combination! I’m always on the lookout for recommendations of any sort, so I’ll take most anything (and if you have a doubt, rec it anyway!)

You can also check out my Good Omens bookmarks here on AO3 :)

[jpitha]

Just a Little Further 12

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Singing. Of course.

I sigh. I'm annoyed at all the attention, but really, I have only myself to blame. I'm the one that just had to touch the directory stone. I couldn't just like, not touch it, oh no.

I stand. "I'll go out and see them. Maybe I can get them to disperse or something before security comes. I have a feeling that the people in charge here aren't going to like this, and I'd rather not have people get beat up in front of us who are trying to worship me, and yes, it sounds odd to me when I say it out loud too." Smiles at that.

Selem stares at the screen, not even turning to face me. "Yes, thank you Melody, that's... probably a good idea"

Something seems off with her. It's like she's having a real hard time with the things going on. More so than the usual stress. Maybe I'll ask her about it later.

"Melody, are you going to don your pressure suit?" FarReach asks.

Ugh, it's still scratched! I haven't even gotten time to play with the "translator" let alone fix my suit. Nobody will give me a couple hours to myself to putter. If this is what being a Living God is, I don't want it.

Too late now though.

I make a snap decision. "No, I won't wear it this time. It's still scratched and we can breathe the air fine. Plus, I'll look less intimidating in my uniform" I gesture down. I'm in my regular ships uniform. Blue shirt, grey pants with sensible shoes. Only decoration is my rank on my shoulder, and my name tag in brass on my breast pocket.

"Are you sure Melody? Last time out they shot at you." FarReach sounds unsure. Hah, I wish FarReach had an avatar, maybe I could read her body language better too!

"I'll be fine Far, it's not like they'll try and kill their own god."

Omar chuckled darkly at that, and Kieran gave me a look. I wonder why.

I headed up to the airlock. It was a long walk from the Command Deck; the Command Deck was in the front of FarReach and the airlock more towards the middle, but now that I know this ship was built during a war, I wonder if it's so far away to help repel boarders.

When I get there, Gene is there already. He has popped open a weapons locker and is taking out a long range rifle. Not one of mine, but I know the model, it's decent.

"And just what do you plan on doing with that?" I ask.

"Captain said I should cover you." He replied without looking up. He was checking the rifle and examining the magazine. It's impeccable though, I was the one who cleaned and inspected it last.

"Cover me?" I said incredulously. "From what?"

This time he stopped and looked up at me. "Melody, have you noticed how Captain Q'ari has been acting lately? She's completely out of sorts and is having trouble making decisions. She wants to leave. Her sense of duty and not wanting to have blood on her hands is the only thing keeping her from ordering FarReach to blow the umbilical and attempt a link home."

I nodded. "I did notice that, yes. I think it's something else though. She started to... act differently when she learned that the people here think we're Gods."

Gene stopped and looked at me. "I didn't notice that." Hah! It's like I have a superpower. I can read people's body language so easily now. It's always been hard for me before and now I just... know. Gene went back to the rifle. "Well, we're not Gods. Just look at our history. I'd be more inclined to agree if they thought we were demons or something. That I can see. Anyway-" Check complete, Gene slots the magazine and racks the bolt." I'm going to stay on FarReach and watch you. I think you'll be fine, but it's foolish to go out there unarmed and with no backup when they've already shown us they're willing to shoot.

I wasn't going to win this one. "Fine." I said. "But stay out of sight, and keep that targeting reticle off my back."

"I'd never aim at you Melody, you know that."

Without answering, I turned and cycled the airlock. I stepped into the inner door with Gene and we waited for it to finish. The outer door opened and Gene got down on one knee and hunched in a corner, just out of sight while I walked down the short umbilical. I was feeling that giddy nervous feeling again. I hated all this attention, but I also loved it. Have you ever felt that? Ugh. I need a coffee.

I pressed the open button on the iris and the sound.

It was breathtaking.

There were way more people here than FarReach let on, and the mics by the airlock didn't pick up the richness of the sound. It must have been three hundred people standing there, all singing and swaying in time. Even with my nanotech, I didn't understand the words, it must just be sound.

I stepped out and stood there, taking in the wall of sound. It was very impressive to be the one hundreds of people were singing about. All at once, they noticed me and stopped. One of them, an Aviens wearing a... robe of pure white approached me.

I struggled at the description because yes, it's a robe but the cut is...

like a space suit.

With a beatific smile the Aviens said "Holy One! You heard our cries! You have come to us in this, our darkest hour! We are at your command!"

With that, he dropped to the floor, on his knees, his head scraping the floor. Everyone - and I mean everyone - followed him.

Oh no.

There they stayed, nearly shaking with joy. I mean, I guess if you were religious and God showed up, you'd be happy too? Ugh. I hate it.

"Rise please." I said "There is uh, no need to supplicate yourselves before me."

The Aviens stood up quickly and with a rustle of clothes and a clank of pressure suits everyone followed. "Oh, but Holy One, you are too kind. We know The Way. We know how you are to be treated." They said, nodding with each thing they said."

"Oookay" I said. "Why are you here then? What do you need? Oh, what's your name too?"

His feathers puffed out immediately when I asked his name. He was very proud. "I am known as The Smell of Soil after Rain and this-" he gestured behind him "-is my flock. We are more than three hundred strong here on this part of Reach of the Might of Vzzx and there are at least twenty more congregations across the the Might."

There are how many?

Oh no.

"That's... impressive to hear" I say worriedly. "The Smell of Soil after Rain, why is it you are here?"

He nods again "We're here to welcome you, of course! It's not every day a Holy One comes back to the World they have wrought to Right the Wrongs that have been put upon Us."

I hear a lot of proper nouns in his speech. This is going to be more trouble.

Just when I'm about to ask for clarification on which specific wrongs I'm supposed to Right, there's a commotion from the rear of the congregation. Turning, Rain and I look. There is a group of Mariens who are wearing a dark unifo- no, I look closer. Their skin has been colored to look like a dark uniform. That's a neat trick. More worryingly they are carrying batons and there looks to be another one of those pistol like weapons the Aviens shot me with earlier on a belt around their middle.

"Disperse! Disperse!" They shout. "This is an illegal gathering! All religious gatherings must be approved by the council of regents, this is known!"

Rain turns back to the security officers and shouts "Your tyranny will be tolerated no longer! The Holy One is here and stands before us! She hears our pleas! She and the other Builders have returned to liberate us. You will be as dust to them and they will take back their rightful place as ruler of the Known, the Unknown and the Unknowable!"

Wide eyed, I turn and stare at Rain. Then, I turn back and stare at the security guards. They actually are faltering. They believe it too! What is going on here?

From behind them, another Mariens, this time flanked with two of the insect people - I haven't leaned their name yet - approach. This Mariens's coloration is more complicated than the security guards. They are probably the supervisor. I do see that the insect people are carrying much larger weapons too. They're like a rifle, but the barrel on the end has no hole. I wonder if it's some kind of energy weapon.

"Enough!" They shout. "You will all disperse or you will be made to disperse. This-" they point at me "-person is no God. They are Not Holy."

Finally, someone speaking sense.

Rain's feathers fluff up and down, they're upset at that. "You blaspheme! She speaks the Tongue as if it were her own, She is a Builder! They comes in a mighty ship through the disabled Gates as if they made it themselves. She is Holy."

The boss, wavers, but only for a split second. I think I only noticed it because of my newfound ability to read everyone's body language. They have someone they fear more than me. "You must disperse!" He makes a clicking noise and the security guards take out their batons.

Rain crosses his arms and glares at the supervisor. "Make. Us."

Oh no. No no no no.

As I realize what's about to happen, I feel something. I get this overwhelming feeling that I need to not only stop them from fighting, but to demonstrate that Rain is right and the supervisor is wrong. I barely have any time to question the feeling when almost automatically I step between them.

"S̵̳̦͑́͋t̶̨͚̑o̸͎̎̂ṕ̴̹̦̚ ̵͍̜̳̔T̷̛͇̓̆ḩ̸̼̜̀̌͝ȋ̸͕̹̺s̷͚̻̬͋̿͆ ̸͓͊a̶̖̗̞̓͊͐t̶̨̜̒ ̷̝̝͎̄̒Ó̷̳͖N̶̢̬̜̕Ċ̸̱É̸͔̫̹͋̋"

My voice has an odd timbre. Everyone - and I mean ev-ery-one - stops and pivots to face me as if they are compelled to obey.

What's going on?

But, only a small part of my mind can wonder at what I'm doing. I'm on automatic now. With a righteous finger, I point at the supervisor. "Who are you that thinks they have the authority over me here. Who are YOU to threaten these sapients with harm over coming to sing and welcome a Builder. WHO ARE YOU to deny them their right to worship me."

As I yell, the supervisor shrinks down, and eventually is kneeling down head scraping the floor just like the congregation did when they arrived. "I-I-I am known as Gemeli H-H-Holy One" The answer is muffled by the ground.

What am I doing?

"Gemeli, you are out of your depth." I snarl.

Why am I taking like this?

My head snaps up and I look at the crowd. As I glare at them, they all shrink from my gaze.

The congregation looks like they just won the lottery though. They all are smiling and nodding.

I want to stop doing this, please.

I feel a breeze around me but I'm too wrapped up in what I'm doing to stop. It's probably just the wind or something.

I turn to face Gemeli but I'm speaking to the crowd again. "All who come before me have the right to worship. All who live here live at the pleasure of the Builders. All who work to usurp that right are known to Us as enemies. Who are you Gemeli?"

More shaking. "I-I-I-I do not usurp your right, Holy One. I am not an enemy."

"Then rise Gemeli, and take your place in the congregation."

Why can't I stop?

"Holy One, my congregation is in the northwestern lobe near my home."

I say nothing and just look at him. He squeaks and lines up next to Rain's people.

I hear a noise. I don't know what it is. Probably nothing. I turn back to the crowd. "Now then, where is-"

A shot rings out from the rear of the crowd. In my fury, I can immediately pinpoint who it is. It's the Aviens from before. The one who shot at me earlier. They're far in the rear of the crowd. This time they're carrying a heavy rifle. Not an energy weapon by the looks of things, a slug thrower.

Huh.

I can see them slowly sliding the bolt to load a new shell.

I can see one of the insect people - one of Gemili's assistants - start to fall. They were shot by the Aviens.

A shot that was meant for me.

This will not do at all.

Without having any ability to stop what I'm doing, without any desire to stop what I am doing, I reach my hands out together and separate them firmly.

The crowd parts, their feet sliding on the panels that make up the floor. It half looks like they moved, and half looks like I moved them. I have a clear line of sight between myself and the shooter.

With a fire in my eyes, I point at them and say:

S̸̢̯͎͍̮̣͈̤̩̼͎͊͒Ţ̵̢̛͉̮̮̩̹̭̭̬̺̠͇̟͓́̂͒̈́̋͂̑͌̏̓͠͝ͅƠ̸̩̦̞͐̋̏̏̂̈́͊̕P̴̙͙̭̪̞̹̙̮͍̐ ̵̢̨̠͙̜̠̰͖̩̝͈͕̭̟̾̉̎͋T̵̡̥̤̤̲͝H̵͍͎̘̥͚̫͔̹̠̤̻̖̼̪͉̑̓̚͜Ȉ̴̛͙͓͈̪̗̩̤̉̌̈́̈́͒́S̷̡̮̺̟͚̟̼̞̪̻̮̰̹͉͊.

Uh oh.

They drop the rifle, and their knees buckle. Bright blue blood trickles from their mouth. They're on the floor.

No.

I look to the crowd and say "What are those who usurp my rights called?"

"Enemies!" The crowd shouts. Even Gemeli and the insect people guards with him join in.

I want to stop.

"What happens to enemies?" I call out.

"THEY ARE NO MORE!" And the crowd descends upon the Aviens.

Please stop.

In no time at all, the Aviens is... gone. Only a violent blue stain remains.

What am I doing?

"MELODY!" It's my radio. "MELODY! What is happening to you?"

The spell broken, I'm myself again. "What do you mean?" I say confused.

It's Captain Q'ari. "Look at yourself Melody! LOOK DOWN"

I look down at myself.

I'm...glowing? My uniform has been replaced with...

Oh shit.

I'm wearing a gown, like the gown Rain had on, but made up of the material of my uniform. It's a deep royal blue. The nanobots are doing something. Not just my brain, I have enough now that they can effect matter around me.

I look behind me worried. Made out of dust and light and... matter from all around me are,

Wings.

On my head is a,

Crown.

The nanobots can do this?

Of course they can, you're a Builder. Builders build. a Voice tells me. It's the voice of who was shouting at the crowd.

Oh no, now I'm hearing voices. Did the Nanobots imprint a personality on me?

Funny. Calling a part of yourself "A Voice" won't negate the fact that you were the one who controlled the crowd. Won't negate the fact that you told them to obliterate the shooter. Nicely done by the way. No half measures here. Everyone here today and everyone who will see the video feed will be one thousand percent sure you are a Builder.

Stumbling and feeling faint, I turn and run back into the airlock. Before I step back in, I turn to The Smell of Soil after Rain and say "Take your congregation and go. Enough blood has been spiled today. I will come and visit you later." with that kind of promise, he practically floats off the ground he's so proud. He turns and starts directing the group to leave.

I enter the airlock and lean against a wall. I feel sick.

Gene sees me, his eyes wide.

"Why didn't you shoot?" I yell.

"You did your... thing with your voice and the crowd descended on them before I could do anything!" He cried.

I drop to my knees panting. Good, good. The voice - part of me? says. Never let them see you weak.

"FarReach, we have a problem." I say, gasping.

"Gee Melody, do you THINK?" She replies, almost shouting.

"I'm a Builder now, and FarReach?"

"I think the Builders were the bad guys."

Part 13

[screamingfromuz]

weird how you reblog posts saying Israel was founded on genocide while also reblogging posts saying the IDF has some measure of honor. like did you see the video of how they shot an Israeli citizen thinking he was Palestinian? Yuval Doron Castleman wa shis name, and the video is not hard to find. the had his hands up in the air, and he was shot multiple times. this happened in the past 24 hours. was there a specific point where the state of Israel became good?

you talk about Jewish people feeling unsafe around anti-Israel talk, but do you ever wonder if people of color feel unsafe around you, and your excusing of ceuel and dehumanizing police forces?

you are very funny to me, you kind of people little anon. So full of yourself yet cannot comprehend complex concepts of grey morality.

I don't fully agree with everything I reblog, I reblog things I believe are important to talk about.

The founding of Israel has several faces that should be acknowledged. It was both a victory to an indigenous land back movement and offered a desperately needed sanctuary for hundred of thousands that would flee, and horrible disaster to another indigenous group. This does not contradict. For peace to exists we must acknowledge the co existence of those narratives. Horrible things were done in 1947-1949, by everyone involved (Britian, Israel, Palestinians, Jordan, Egypt, Syrian, Lebanon), and ignoring or diminishing it is foolish. On the other side, blowing it up is just as stupid and destructive.

using the correct term is important, as using the wrong terms might leads fools such as yourself to misunderstand the problem, and worsen the actual problem by "trying to help".

the IDF takes extreme measures to be careful with civilian life while simultaneously being careless with it. Again, both things are true as the same time.

Me saying that I do not consider the actions in Gaza genocide, does not mean I agree with all of them. as explained in this post (and it various reblogs), the use of the word "Genocide" is done as a way to shut down conversations and vilify Israel. The things that are happening are horrific and I hate it, I mourn every death. But as I refuse to call this a genocide, any criticism I will have will be either dismissed or twisted and used against me. For that reason, I limit my criticism to Israeli circle and the real world.

I saw the video, of course I did. And what do you want me to say? that it is horrific? That I knew that something like this was gonna happen at some point? The soldiers fucked up, they will be trialed for that. This are problems that stem from militarized society that I fight against.

Israel is a state. It is not bad or good in your simplistic moral scale, like any other country on the planet. But Israel is my home, and I would not abandon if even if it is fucked up in here. There have been 9 months of protests before the war, people are still protesting and sighing petitions and working to build a better future here, for all of us. just like the people in Poland and in Hungary, we want a better country. The point is that you don't care, you don't want Israel to exist. You are calling or erasing Israel from the map without understanding the devastating consequences of such action. You don't care about our effort and our criticism unless you can twist if to the support of the eradication of Israel.

what you fail to understand, is how much your "anti-Israel" talk is toxic, destructive and full of antisemitism. Of course we feel unsafe! you are not criticizing Israel, you are calling for it's destruction and to the horrible consequences to the Jewish people that will follow.

I have talked about this, many Jewish and Israeli talked about it, but the amount of hate a vitriol your kind spew, the silencing methods you employ does not leave a place to our criticism. Nuanced opinions of the systems of violence, the militarization of the Israeli society, about the ties between culture and crime, of neglect, those are swept aside as they do not satisfy your "Israel bad" criteria.

Understanding the actions taken and explaining them is not endorsing or supporting said actions. it's called having an understanding.

I understand that this ask is a result of your underdeveloped moral compass, and truly hope you would be able to develop a healthy one little anon.

You don't know me, you see fractions of me through a screen, pieces of opinions I share on this wretched hell hole in hope of a good constructive criticism, in hope that by speaking out people will feel less alone.

for summery anon, life is more complex then your little fanfiction version of it. I hope you grow out of this mindset.

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 6 Tsumihoroboshi pt. 15

I like the confirmation for one of my suspicions during Himatsubushi got confirmed here. I made the theory at some point near the ending that I wasn’t a hundred percent positive that the Sonozaki family was behind the kidnapping. I don’t remember exactly if it’s in this chapter or Minagoroshi where Mion lays it out plain for everyone that the Sonozakis aren’t actually this elite cadre of super criminal types, and were actually just using people’s preconceived notions of them to cultivate this cutthroat reputation. There’s a section later on in this chapter when she has a meeting with Ooishi to dispel the rumors that the Sonozakis are actively trying to harm Rena, but I don’t think the owning the unsubstantiated rumors happens here or not. I think it’s in Minagoroshi.

Oh god damn it.

Do you think she had a good time in San Francisco? I like to imagine she did. Maybe that’s where she picked up her proclivity for board games and such, from the sweltering heat of the Southwestern deserts to the whatever the hell climate San Francisco has. Part of me wants to assume the war games story is just that and secretly this sect within the Sonozaki group is basically an actual elite military trained strike force.

Keiichi, now kicking himself for falling for such a wild outlandish story from Rena, departs from Mion and sees the group of men with their white van from the other day. He’s suspicious of this group of men from Okonogi Gardeners, until the principal informs him that no, these guys are in fact just gardeners, mowing the lawn around the school. Chie then mentions how the guys from Okonogis would’ve been there yesterday to do the job but they got horribly lost due to not driving around Hinamizawa much. Keiichi begins kicking himself harder because he feels like such a foolish fool for having fallen for Rena’s crazy story. He comes to the conclusion that actually, when you think about it, this is Rena’s fault for going completely off her rocker and being a crazy lady. And how he now needs to fully wake her up from her paranoid delusion.

Meanwhile:

This might sound completely ridiculous but I can sort of understand where she’s coming from with the idea that this “gardeners” van is part of a conspiracy to kill her. After all this is a few days after she was given these documents about a mysterious parasite, and that in that same span of time the person who gave them to her died in a horrifically unnatural way. So, it makes sense that someone who is already on edge because in their mind had one of their pre-existing paranoid fantasies proven to be real would start seeing connections where they don’t truly exist.

This is going to sound really stupid, but Rena asking if Keiichi is in cahoots with the Sonozakis was a much needed shot in the arm for me. After reading the previous dialogue about the parasites and all that I was really deflated reading this chapter, I mentioned it elsewhere but I was in such low spirits I had considered dropping the series entirely. Yet this one line: “Is Keiichi-kun… in cahoots… with the Sonozaki family…?” Just completely re-energized me, and convinced me to read the rest.

Her brief suspicion of Keiichi is washed away because there’s no possible way he could be working against her! He was her rock, her island basically, he made that dramatic pledge when they caught her chopping up Teppei and Rina after all, how could he possibly be part of the conspiracy working against her?

Feeling there are enemies and assassins all around her Rena makes an excuse that she’s feeling under the weather to a nearby student, and to let Chie know she left. Then she runs away from the school.

There’s a short exchange from Chie to the gardeners where she tells them that the number they gave her doesn’t match the one on the invoice. The gardener mentions that he accidentally grabbed an envelope with their old number on it, and their intern forgot to put the new on it. Oh what a wacky misunderstanding! Sure hope this doesn’t lead to a hostage situation, that’d be embarrassing.

I don’t remember if they mentioned it at any point of the VN, but I assume that Rena and her father probably stayed in Ibaraki for at least a year or two after their divorce. So, this means that Rena was suffering from her mental illness during her childhood as well then right? And the divorce just exacerbated the symptoms until she started cutting, leading up to her assaulting her classmates and the windows at her school. Assuming this is all just some of the symptoms of her having Hinamizawa Syndrome why did they suddenly manifest so quickly and aggressively after lying dormant for the years she was away from Hinamizawa? Furthermore the TIPs here suggest this is some other mental disorder she suffers from (and was indeed diagnosed in chapter one: Onikakushi).

Part of me really wants to try to explain away that this isn’t her having Hinamizawa Syndrome, that this is indeed just some version of a psychotic break due to the stress of her parents divorce. But to do that you’d have to disregard the symptoms she showed of the bloody maggots, or seeing the embodiment of Oyashiro telling her to return to Hinamizawa. The point is this is actually one of the reasons I have a hard time buying the explanation that it’s a parasite/endemic disease. She lived outside of Hinamizawa for years without incident, but only after she started self-harming did idea that it is a parasite or disease to blame for her life and mental health suddenly declining. And I hate to keep harping on the point, if it really is parasites, diseases, and so on causing villagers to snap why didn’t either of her parents show any symptoms? Her father fell into his depression sure, but that’s easily explained away by the divorce, and her mother never seemed to affect her life whatsoever. Unless the parasite can make its victims commit adultery, in which case that’s one magical parasite.

[freshlyhooked]

HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELL YEAH I'LL PROMPT YOU OKAY WHAT'S UP man i had to scroll through a bit but THIS FEEL VERY DARBY-ESQUE AS DIALOGUE TO ME so it stood out

(17) “You know what? You can go shove that apology up your ass because I don’t want to hear any of it.”

or if you want to write Jack, because i always default to touch for him

(31) reassuring touches

oh my god KATYYYYYYY YOU’VE DONE ME THE INCREDIBLE HONOR OF PARTAKING IN TUMBLR PROMPT WRITER CULTURE FOR THE FIRST TIME AT THE BEHEST OF ONE OF MY MOST FAVORITE FANDOM AUTHORS EVER?!!??!?! we go fucking BIG or go HOME in this bitch which means you get BOTH PROMPTS for the price of ONE and then I KISS YOU!!!!!!! 

this got a little out of hand but.,. we live and we breathe. ENJOY!

-/\-

“I’m gettin’ real sick of your hot-and-cold, can’t-make-up-your-mind bullshit, Perry.” 

The back of the Scapegoat bus is rapidly approaching sauna-like levels of hot after spending all afternoon baking in the unrelenting South Carolina sun, and the cheap mobile AC unit Jack rigged up to the dash two months ago only works if the bus is running. East Coast gas prices are entirely too high right now for Jack to waste a few gallons sitting around in his dumb bus with the AC on, so sprawled out shirtless on the futon it is, killing time praying to a god Jack doesn’t believe in that everyone will just leave him the fuck alone until he’s scheduled for his promo later. 

Not praying hard enough, apparently, because the only warning Jack gets before tattooed knuckles are banging at the bus's back door is the crunch of thick rubber soles on gravel and a few carefully crafted expletives. Jack groans under his breath. The banging just gets louder. 

(The back door doesn’t lock. Jack knows that Darby knows the back door doesn’t lock. He bought the bus for less than five grand on Facebook Marketplace. The back door doesn’t fucking lock, and he’s still knocking.)

“Oh my god, fuck off!” Jack snaps after a few agonizing minutes, loud enough for Darby to hear through the metal walls once he realizes that Darby’s discovered his hiding spot and has no intention of leaving anytime soon. He kicks at one of the wheel wells hard enough to rock the bus's chassis for good measure; not that he’s foolish enough to believe it’ll scare Darby off, because it won’t, and it doesn’t. “Don’t you have a psycho cowboy to survive tonight? You got your stupid title shot, so—”

Darby must finally get tired of knocking, because there’s the godawful screech of the metal door handle scraping against the rusted, non-functional lock and then the back door swings wide open. It might be some kind of poetic irony how the fresh air that rushes in is an instant relief against Jack’s superheated skin, flushed and glistening with sweat in the light of the few rays of afternoon sunshine that sneak in around the Darby-shaped shadow now hunched in the doorway. 

“It smells like hot ass in here,” is the first thing Darby murmurs once the door’s open, quiet and unobtrusive, in direct opposition to how he’s just barging in like he owns the damn place, as per the fuckin’ usual. Jack’s still blinking hard against the sudden bright sunshine, trying to get his vision to focus. For a moment he’s terrified, trying to recall where he’d stashed the belt before he remembers it’s tucked under the driver’s seat up front. Darby knows that, too. So why is he…?

“Why the fuck won’t you leave me alone?” Jack growls once his eyes finally adjust to the contrast, picks out Darby’s face against the lightly graffiti’d backdrop of the bus walls just to fling one of his lumpy travel pillows at it. Darby dodges. Jack goes to stand, but the heat maybe took a little more out of him than he thought, because he gets about halfway to his feet before his vision starts to spin. One hand smacks hard against the steel wall as Jack scrambles to balance himself, stomach churning, and— “Jesus Christ, dude, were you trying to kill yourself back here? Jack, you’re burning up.”

Darby’s hands are cold. They’re not usually cold, Jack’s familiar enough with the rope calluses on Darby’s palms to know that much, but right now they’re just another stark relief. He must’ve come straight from inside the arena. Cool fingers press against Jack’s cheeks, his forehead, splay across the dip of his collarbone, and between one blink and the next he’s sitting down, back pressed against the wall, overwhelmed by the dizziness. His futon is drenched in sweat. Jack hopes Darby doesn’t mind. 

Another blink, and Darby’s got Jack’s water bottle in his left hand; screws the top off with his right as Jack blinks blearily at him, trying to figure out where he’d procured it from, because not even Jack can remember where he’s got the thing stashed half the time. But the bottle’s open, and Jack is nauseous as fuck, and Darby’s coaxing the rim of it between his lips, so it would be foolish not to just grab the damn thing and drink, right? 

The only sound for a few precious moments is the creak of the rusty hinges on the bus door as it sways a little in the breeze. Jack sucks down what’s left of the water in his bottle in hopes that maybe, just maybe Darby will fuck right back off to wherever he came from once he’s done, but Jack polishes off the bottle and scrubs the back of his hand over his mouth and the moron is still fucking staring at him. 

(The dizziness abates some, though, once he’s a little more hydrated. Maybe he should’ve spent the extra cash on gas for the AC after all.) 

“What?” Jack rasps, the petulant huff tugged free from his chest when the prickling silence and the staring combination become too much. Darby doesn’t answer immediately, just plucks the empty bottle from Jack’s palm and eyes him with a look Jack can’t place. It makes him nervous. Most things make him nervous these days. And then Darby opens his mouth. “You lose one cage match and your first course of action is to burn yourself alive in the back of your shitty bus?” 

Jack’s still swallowing down the last of the nausea, weak all over, but it does nothing to keep him from flipping the double bird at where Darby’s now crouching between his feet. “You’d know a lot about that, right? Burning people alive. Fucking psycho,” Jack grumbles, kicks one heel out to try and topple Darby over when he swats at his wrists in response. There’s a scoff and then the offending leg is snatched up by cool fingers, curving around Jack’s ankle, firm against the bare strip of skin between his rolled-up pant leg and where his sock begins. Jack kicks again, weaker, not aggressive enough to dislodge them. “Jealous I’ll finish the job before you can?”

Darby doesn’t respond. Not verbally, at least. Those cold fingers tighten around Jack’s ankle for a moment, a brief squeeze, and then they’re skimming up the length of his calf, tucking beneath the rolled fabric of his jeans. The temperature difference prickles goosebumps along Jack’s skin, makes the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end. Like this, Darby between Jack’s spread legs, it’s almost like they’re back in Nashville; both soaked through with sweat and blood, reeking of gasoline and shitty grease paint, Darby’s hands on Jack’s skin, and— 

Darby needs to leave. Jack needs to make Darby leave now.

“You need to—”

“You’re hiding in here,” Darby says, the words carefully chosen, and it isn’t a question. Jack stares at him, expression maybe a little too openly off-balance, because every conversation between them anymore is a damn game of chess and Darby never hesitates to press his advantage. “You’ve been hiding in here all day. From who? From me?” 

“From—” Everybody. “—nobody, you dick. Not everything is about you.”

“From your EVP buddies?”

Jack sits up with a start, shoots his hands out to shove once, hard, at Darby’s shoulders. Darby’s not expecting the sudden motion, goes over easy with a muffled curse, and then they’re tussling on the floor of the bus. Because god forbid the two of them sit alone in a space for more than five minutes without either fighting or fucking, right? 

“Get the fuck out.” Jack’s fingers curl tight around Darby’s shirt collar. A seam pops. Jack’s just glad Darby’s wearing a shirt at all.

“Matt, right? You mad at him for last week?” Darby rips Jack’s hairtie out. Curls half-matted together with sweat come down in front of his eyes. Jack’s obscured vision makes it easy for Darby to flip them, forcing Jack onto his back, pinning his shoulders to the shoddy carpet squares he bought on clearance when he realized he probably needed to cover up the rusty bus floor before somebody got tetanus. Jack gnashes his teeth, shoves at Darby’s arms. They don’t budge. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Darby replies too quickly, shrugs too casually, and Jack hates that he can tell it’s a lie. He shouldn’t know these things about Darby. How his fingers twitch when he’s focused. How he blinks fast when he’s trying not to laugh. Jack’s dizzy all over again trying to figure him out when Darby settles back, sits on Jack’s hips to keep him prone. Jack struggles for a few tense seconds, bucks and squirms to see if he can dislodge Darby’s weight, but—

A trash can clatters somewhere outside the bus. Jack realizes all at once that he’s shirtless, Darby’s perched on his waist, and the back door is still wide open. Darby’s grinning. Jack’s ears are burning. He goes still. 

“Darby,” Jack catches his breath and tries again. Forces his voice to stay level, quiet, because he’s acutely aware that if anyone were to come wandering back near the trailer bay parking lot and see them through the open door this would be incredibly difficult to explain away. He can’t even explain it to himself, Darby’s insatiable obsession with him, but— but maybe it’s Jack’s fault in the first place. Enabling, and all that. “What do I have to do to make you leave?”

To his credit, at least, Darby doesn’t beat around the bush. “Tell me why you keep sending me away.”

Jack… laughs. A real laugh, disbelieving, maybe a little bit mean. “Did you hit your head? Are— Are you fucking serious?” And it is mean, but it’s not Jack’s fault. He knows a lot about Darby, and Darby doesn’t typically ask stupid questions. “Darby— we don’t— we can’t do this. I—”

“Then why’d you let me in? Last week?”

Jack freezes up. His tongue goes thick in his mouth, clumsy, visions of spine tattoos and ice blue eyes dancing in his head. Darby doesn’t let up. “Before then, too. In Vegas.”

“...The back door doesn’t lock. Nobody let you in.” Jack croaks after a terrifyingly weighted pause, a misdirection, a non-answer. He’s never been good at chess. Darby knows that, too.

“You would have, if I asked.”

Jack goes tense. Narrows his eyes. “And— And I would’ve given you a fucking title shot, too, if you had asked.”

When it comes to their game of misdirections and half-truths, it’s probably too honest for Jack to confess; but it’s easier to admit he would’ve given away the title shot than attempt to come face-to-face with his own feelings. Maybe that’s why Darby still looks upset, brow furrowed in frustration, and Jack realizes suddenly what Darby’s real goal is. Darby wants him to put a name to this. Darby wants Jack to label this tenuous something between them that isn’t just fits of passion borne from residual bloodlust. Jack’s stomach goes cold with fear. “Darby, I—” 

“No— No, Jack, you listen to me—”

“—Look, I’m sorry, okay? This isn’t—”

“I don’t want your fucking sorries!” Jack isn’t expecting the outburst. His jaw clicks shut when Darby shouts, shoves at Jack’s shoulders, eyes going wide and furious. Worried for a second that Darby’s back in a fighting mood, that they’re going to draw unwanted attention, Jack tenses up. Anticipates a punch that doesn’t happen, because as fast as it had come, Darby’s anger is gone. Instead, it almost sounds like exhaustion, when Darby sighs. “Take— take all your stupid, half-baked apologies and shove ‘em up your ass. I didn’t come here for you to say you’re sorry.”

Jack can’t look him in the eyes. “Then what did you come here for, Darby?”

Is it terrible to admit that it’s not quite a surprise? Darby, as good as he is at twisting his words, at making Jack feel like he’s winning until he’s accidentally bared half his soul… it’s not his preferred method of communication. No, Darby’s all action; hard lines of movement, of strength, and it’s the same now, when Darby buries his hands in Jack’s hair and presses them together hard at the mouth. 

And even this is usually a battleground, too. Kisses are generally a war, between them— gnashing teeth and tongue, just another way to play the game, to decide a winner. But it’s different today. Today, Darby holds him still and teases into his mouth like a lover, and at least this part is unexpected enough to bring Jack pause. It’s the middle of the day, and the bus door is wide open, and Darby’s tongue does something that rips a groan from Jack’s chest, and… 

Sometime later, Jack comes to. 

He’s dizzy, but there’s a cool breeze washing over his skin, gentle fingers brushing curls out of his eyes as he pants for breath against Darby’s lips. There’s something unspoken there in the way that Darby looks at him. It’s noisier outside, more foot traffic, and Jack can hear people talking, the jingle of keys as more staff pull up to the arena. For all of two seconds Darby seems frustrated, annoyed, and then he’s… sitting up. Standing to his feet. Leaves Jack boneless and devastated on the floor, still trying to blink himself back into coherence, and flicks Jack’s hairtie back into his face for good measure. Jackass.

“I’ll win tonight. And the belt, too,” Darby says, and the words are absolutely, completely meaningless; Jack already knows. There’s a determination on Darby’s face that hadn’t been there before, not even when demanding his TNT title shot in the cage, and Jack has an awful, terrifying theory on the reason behind it that he’s saving for later. It’s easier to have an emotional breakdown in an actual bed. “And turn the fuckin’ AC on, if you’re planning on staying out here until call time.”

“Get lost, Darby,” Jack mutters back. There’s no heat behind it. The bus chassis shakes as Darby steps through the door, hops off the back stoop into the gravel below, and Jack sits up just to watch him go. Stares at the hard line of the spine tattoo peeking out from beneath the collar of Darby’s shirt until it disappears behind the rest of the trailers and then he’s alone again, though it isn’t as triumphant a victory as he’d hoped. 

Because it isn’t a victory at all; Darby’s going to keep wedging himself in between Jack and the rest of the Elite until he’s satisfied, until he has Jack all to himself, and god fucking damn it, Jack’s going to let him.

(He turns the AC on.)

-/\-

[djchik]

FINALLY MY TRUE YUUSONA !!! (Only sketch for now until I get my stuff together)

after 3-4 years I finally make one that mirrors me !!! (Pushes the 5 Yuusonas I made in the past four years into a closet)

!!!!!!

Meet DJ-Yuu !!!! Not her real name obviously but you only get one shot at a new life so why not make the most of it and make a silly name :p

More info on her bellow if anyone interested

Dj-Yuu is 17. She is 173cm tall (about 5’6.9)

Her homeland in earth is Palestine and Puerto Rico. She’s not half half, more of 3/4 Palestinian and 1/4 Puerto Rican. She knows a little Spanish but is well known with Arabic since that’s her mothers tongue (Spanish was her fathers language)

Birthday June 1st

When she got transported to twst she was on her way to her general Chem lecture class in college. She was walking from the college library to her class when she got…well…sent to nrc from the carriage.

Wait how is she taking college classes while 17? Well in the US they let high schoolers (sometimes middle schoolers) take college classes for free while still taking highschool classes. It’s a real juggling struggle between hs and college but dj-Yuu managed. She started taking college classes when she was 15 so for two almost three years, she got all the credits she needed and was going to graduate with her associates degree! One semester left of college then wohooo!!! Graduating with a degree before graduating from highschool!!

And yay!! One last year of highschool. Senior time and privileges let’s gooo!!! Finally Jean fridays and senior parking!!

But aw shucks. Twst world here she goes.

When she realized she has to redo all these classes again and has to be a freshman all over again she was like “aw shucks. Bruhhhh”

Then she just accepted fate cause at least she gets a redo over and this time she can put more effort in maintaining her gpa as a 4.0

She does have a bad habit of bawling her eyes out when confronted but that usually happens if she gets confronted after weeks of bottling up her feelings and problems.

Sometimes she even lashes out with lots of attitude at the wrong person/level she didn’t need to be at.

She feels guilty and apologizes while giving a homemade a gift for forgiveness.

Dj-Yuu also has bad attachment issues. The first night at ramshackle she cried because she realized she can’t live independently and that she misses her parents.

She’s just a mama and babas girl 🥲👍

Missing her parents and siblings and some family members.

She almost cried in heartslyabul (the part when Trey was showing off his unique magic) she asked if it would work with wanting foods tasting like someone’s cooking. She was going to cry while asking the question but held it in. He it caught off guard by that question but when he hit her with “pardon?” She says nevermind and chocked back her tears cause it was foolish of her to ask.

She had some moments here and there where she almost cried but held it in.

She kept it so the only one who saw and heard her cry was Grim and the ghosts of Ramshackle from her first night after the ceremony.

But then this changed when she cried infront of Kalim and Jamil at scarabia chapter. Her tasting Jamils cooking tasted similar almost replica of her mothers cookie. The fact that it was a middle eastern food made it worse for her trying to hold her emotions back. The reason is because

Jamils cooking = land of hot sands food = middle eastern food = homeland/country food = mamas cooking = miss mama and home country.

So she started crying (didn’t make much noises but she kept stuffing her mouth ) trying to feel better and finish the food quickly so she can excuse herself to the restroom.

When Jamil and Kalim told her she can eat more, they knew she felt really homesick especially when it was winterbreak and she saw everyone going home to their families.

After that day and jamils overblot, they told her that she can visit them and eat their food whenever she wants.

That’s why I’m pomefiore chapter, when Jamil made knefa, she was so excited to eat it but when Vil took it away she got so sad but Jamil reassured her. Telling her that he can give her some the next day during lunch.

DEPRESSING STUFF ASIDE AKDNDKDNDJD

She carries around a skeleton hand with her. As a Muslima, she can’t touch boys or men with Grim and the ghosts and school nurse being an exception. But being in nrc, an all boys school has her in a “bruh, even shaytan is confused” mood (guys I’m joking to hit me for this comment 🙏)So she uses the skeleton hand to sometimes hit Ace or Deuce playfully or if they wanted to lead her somewhere, they can use that as a pretend of her hand.

(help she found the hand in one of the ramshackle rooms is it real? Maybe)

She also sometimes ties a cloth around her wrist and one of the twst boys wrist incase she doesn’t have her skeletons hand with her. (If they wanted to lead her somewhere or something. Idk. She finds a way to not touch them on accident. Can’t anger Allah :(

That’s why during the Vdc camping she was like “wtf Crowley????” 💀 but powered through with it. The ghost of ramshackle and grim were guards when she needed to shower or change etc 😤

Whenever she wants to hand something to someone, she always holds the item by the edge to prevent touching their hands on accident. Or if the time is small, she would drop it into their hands. (I can draw this if anyone is confused about it^^ I tend to do this a lot too at my school when I can’t hand it to a girl to hand to the boy who the thing is supposed to go to ) :p

I think that’s all skdnsjdnsjd when I do her red properly I’ll reblog this post with it :D

Feel free to send an inbox for an questions or clarifactions!!! (Plsssss my inbox is collecting cobwebs rn)

[agentnico]

Poor Things (2023) review

Yorgos Lanthimos may be the new Quentin Tarantino when it comes to feet fetishes in cinema, as there are so many Emma Stone feet shots in this movie… so many. Also, her little toe is oddly square shaped, just saying.

Plot: An incredible tale and fantastical evolution of Bella Baxter (Emma Stone), a young woman brought back to life by the brilliant and unorthodox scientist Dr. Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe). Under Baxter's protection, Bella is eager to learn. Hungry for the worldliness she is lacking, Bella runs off with Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo), a slick and debauched lawyer, on a whirlwind adventure across the continents. Free from the prejudices of her times, Bella grows steadfast in her purpose to stand for equality and liberation.

At first I was very much a fan of director Yorgos Lanthimos’ directing style, with him managing to take any event or piece of dialogue and turn it into deadpan awkwardness. As such, his indie films The Lobster and The Killing of a Sacred Deer both are great examples of entertaining postmodern cinema with each one featuring a dystopian visual style. That being said, his last film The Favourite, even though it was a hit with the critics and the award ceremonies, for me did not hit the same. It felt much more reserved compared to the director’s previous efforts, and his usual weird style just came off crude and the humour for me personally did not land. Nicholas Hoult was a hoot though, but when isn’t he! Anyway, going into Poor Things I was hoping for more of the original magic which I’ve seen from Lanthimos in his earlier works, and the trailers with their vibrant visuals really sparked my interest, so I went in with high hopes.

So in terms of the visuals, Poor Things may just feature some of the best and most imaginative sets of any movie of 2023. Starting off the first part in black-and-white, very reminiscent of the old Universal monster flicks, but then 30 minutes in transforming into a technicolour dream world with colours popping Wizard of Oz-style, with every shot reminiscent of a vivid painting, with the use of the fisheye lends to create a somewhat watercolour effect to the backgrounds. The movie looks and feels artificial, which connected well with the narrative of this Frankenstein’s monster type woman learning and discovering everything with a brain that’s both her’s and not. Oh, and she happens to also wear rainbow glasses, so I can only imagine how much more stranger the world must look through her eyes.

The film’s biggest asset is its acting. Emma Stone is phenomenal as she has to play a grown woman with the brain of a baby, and then show us that woman growing into her brain (or maybe show us the baby growing into the woman?) over the course of the film. She really does throw herself into the role and it’s the type of role that awards shows will delightfully seek their teeth into. Willem Dafoe as the maker of Bella felt like a character that walked straight off a David Lynch fantasy, from the prosthetic make-up to his performance as the mad scientist that falls for his creation. But the real stand out here is Mark Ruffalo who simply is on another level. Playing the slimy player who only sees women through the male gaze, and attempts to take advantage of Bella’s naive outlook life for his own physical pleasure, it’s the kind of character you are supposed to despise, but gosh did I love everything Ruffalo was doing in this film. He was truly hilarious with every piece of his line delivery successfully painting the pathetic nature of his foolish character. Most critics will be showering Emma Stone with praise and deservingly so, however I believe Mark Ruffalo should not be overlooked and may be the actual MVP of the whole movie.

Narrative wise this is a fun feminist spin on the Frankenstein formula, that is a loud and proud shout to female autonomy for those who may have found Barbie a bit too cheesy and perky, yet I do find the movie to be overly cynical against its own good. It's like Lanthimos approached the film in the same way the mad scientist played by Willem Dafoe in the movie approaches his medical experiments -- with a cool eye and a lot of curiosity, but very little heart. And for the bubbly and big eyed Bella that is full of life and excitement, the film she’s in is the polar opposite. Look, I admired the film for what it was, but the romantic within me wanted a bit more of the, as the French would say, ‘amour’. Also there was just too much sex for my viewing pleasure. Again, I don’t mind a lil’ hanky-panky in my films, but when I’m sat in a dark theatre surrounded by many perverts with 90% of what I’m watching being humans doing the thrusting and the throbbing, it is a tad uncomfortable. You can also imagine what my fiancée thought when I told her afterward about the movie’s heavily erotic side.

Poor Things is very much a film that screams the director’s unique and distinct style and I truly respect it for that, however I personally feel like its not my cup of tea as it was a bit too cold for my liking. There wasn’t really a character I could connect or sympathise with, and even though Mark Ruffalo is funny as hell, his character is a piece of scum and a half. Again, kudos to the whole production team and cast for a great niche slice of art house cinema, but it’s too creepy for my liking.

Overall score: 7/10

[puffpasstea]

Random blurb idea - could you please do a blurb maybe where Matilda travels to surprise harry on tour, and maybe has her text notifs off bc of travel so harry is upset/concerned bc she’s not responding to his messages? Like a mix of angst and smut?

Sorry if you hate this and its nothing like you wanted.

Warnings: angst, smut, (brief) mentions of mental illness.

---

"I'm sorry, okay? but to be fair, I never said I'd come for sure. I only said I'd try." I adjusted the phone in my hand.

"I didn't say anything!"

"You didn't have to. I can practically feel you brooding all the way over here."

"'M not brooding. Know better than to expect you to just drive out cuz I happen to be playin' a show nearby. Even though we haven't seen each other in months."

"But you're not brooding or anything, right?"

"Right."

"I have to work, Harry! Not all of us can just change our plans on a whim and expect the whole world to accommodate our schedules, you know. Some of us have real jobs. Plus, you know I get anxious about this kind of thing. I'm not a professional rockstar-"

"No, you have a real job."

"C'mon, you know I didn't mean it like that."

"'S alright. I have to go, anyway. Sound check starts in a bit."

"Talk soon?"

"Bye, Matilda."

***

The wheels of my carry-on squeaked gratingly as I pulled it across the airport. I couldn't believe I was actually going through with this. I felt foolish. Like some love-struck teenager sneaking out of her bedroom at night for a boy who doesn't even know her name. Except I'm an adult. And Harry- well, it's complicated. But my therapist did say that I needed to start getting out of my comfort zone and doing things that I wouldn't normally do. Something about practice making things easier, or whatever. I've certainly never done this before. Granted I've arrived way too early for a domestic flight, and I'm sure I've overpacked for this weekend trip. Hopefully, the look on Harry's face will be worth it though.

A knot formed in my stomach every time I thought about how I spoke to him on the phone the other night. All he wanted was a chance for us to finally see each other again, but the thought made me feel threatened somehow. Like I'd admit to being attached to him if I were willing to come all this way. Of course, I could've been nice about it, or at least avoided implying that his job was less real than mine. All I can do now is hope that he doesn't still remember all that.

***

My fingers were shaky against the screen of my phone as I selected the "airplane mode" and plugged in my headphones. Perhaps getting four shots of espresso in my crappy airport coffee wasn't the sanest decision, or maybe the trembling was simply nerves, either way, I needed a distraction. Launching the music streaming app, I went for the "downloads" tab, and played "Matilda" as the pilot announced our take-off.

***

I ran across the airport, my squeaky luggage in hand until I reached the crowded escalator, regretfully bumping into the person in front of me before reaching a halt.

"E-excuse me, sorry." I whispered, but the man didn't seem to care. I peered beyond him at the long line of people. Damn was this thing crowded. I needed it to move faster. I needed to use the restroom. Airplane bathrooms gave me the creeps. And drinking soda with my stale complementary pretzels on the flight was a huge mistake with a bladder like mine.

hurry, hurry, hurry. I tapped my foot against my carry-on, impatiently, and earned a side-eye from the person in front of me.

"Again, sorry, sir."

***

I stared at my reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror. Gross airplane smell isn't exactly the scent I want Harry to associate with me. I took out my TSA-approved, mini-toiletries and began damage control. Freshening up, re-applying make-up, and spraying some perfume might help counteract the post-flight aroma and general vibe.

I promised myself that if this ends up going badly, my therapist is going to have to pay me next week.

The shorter the distance between Harry and I, the louder my heartbeat felt. It was practically in my eardrums by now. I hated keeping secrets from him, but I've also never surprised anyone before. If I was being honest, there was a tinge of excitement and anticipation about this, underneath all the self-loathing and embarrassment. No matter what happens next, I should be proud of myself for trying, right? I should...

***

At the arrivals gate, I deselected the "airplane mode" to access the internet and put in Harry's hotel address. The second that my phone caught signal again, my notifications were blowing up. It took me a minute to get over the vibrations and buzzing, and when the flood had died down, I look at my screen, blinking intensely.

Harry Styles, 12 Messages

Harry Styles, 16 Missed Calls

Harry Styles, Voicemail

Holy shit! What had I done? I worried that he'd been trying to reach me to let me know how much he hates me; how he's glad I never ended up coming out to see him after all. What if this whole thing was a mistake?

My brain froze. I hastily scrolled through his messages, too paralyzed by anxiety to process the words on the screen. Vaguely, I caught sight of "Apologize" "Just missed you" and "worried you hate me" across all 16 messages.

jumping in the cab, I relished in his voice messages and listened to them repeatedly it with a stupidly wide grin blasted on my face the whole time.

"Please don't ignore my messages. It's one thing to do that when we're within driving distance and I can just bang on your door and call your bluff, but I kind of hate when I can't do anything about it now."

"I'm really worried, and I know it's manipulative of me to say this, but, I really don't want to go onstage knowing that you're mad at me."

"okay, I'm starting to think that you do want to upset me. Don't be like this. I just missed you. Can ya blame me? The show was hell in case you care to know. I mean, I couldn't not sing Matilda now, could I? You know what I thought about the entire time I was singing it, though? Remember the one time you decided we should go to your place instead of mine, after filming? You made us dinner and I fucked you against the couch? left a nice bruise on your neck. Some of my best work, I must say. Have you been with anyone...you know, since... It's not like you can't be. Why stay celibate. I'm not your boyfriend or anything. I could be. But you don't want that, so... anyway, they're knocking on my door. Bye."

What a giant idiot.

*

It was a little past midnight by the time that my cab pulled up to the lobby of the hotel Harry and his band were staying in. I gave the receptionist the fake name he usually uses for reservations like this and they eyed me from head to toe a few times before finally confessing his room number. It was a large penthouse-sized space on their top floor. No doubt booked specifically with all his gear, luggage, and concert items in mind. During the elevator ride to the summit, it occurred to me that he might have brought someone back with him for the night. Or maybe gone out. He'd told me some stories, from the beginning of his performing career, when he'd go to afterparties, and after-afterparties and pick up women and smoke and drink and do things that I could only imagine. But, he's also told me that he has since turned in the opposite direction, opting instead, for a very structured routine on tour. He'd found that performing the very next day with a raging hangover and on very little sleep made his stage presence shaky and lackluster, and he felt it was his responsibility to always give every performance his full capacity. So, it was very likely that he'd be getting ready to go to sleep soon, but what if tonight is the exception? what if he'd decided, on a whim, to go back to his old ways, just this once?

how would I feel if I were to find his lips attached to someone else's neck right now? And before I could wait around to make up my mind about it, I found myself knocking on Harry's door.

the door creaked open, and, I could swear I saw the wheels turning in his head.

"If you must know, no. I haven't been with anyone else since being with you. Not that it's any of your business."

He went from barely looking at me through droopy eyes, clutching the middle of his bathrobe, trying to keep his chest covered to looking as if he'd seen a ghost, to grabbing the cross on his necklace, kissing it, and looking up at the ceiling.

"Thank you Jesus. God, thank you, thank you!!"

I frowned. "I didn't know you were religiou- ahhhh"

He grabbed me by my shirt collar, dragging me into the room and shutting the door behind us.

"Aren't you gonna- ask- why I'm here..." I attempted to remain cool and collected as Harry busied himself with separating me from my luggage, shoving me up against the wall and kissing everywhere his lips landed.

"Don't care" he whispered in between leaving a trail of kissing down the side of my jaw and neck. "Just care that you're here."

"H-harry, wait. I just got off a plane, there's like airplane germs all over me." I swallowed my giggles, feeling tickled by the stubble he appears to be growing.

Harry used, looking up at me through his lashes.

"Fine" He relented, his arms still around my waist, squeezing gently, as if to verify that I was really here. "You can take a shower. There's a very nice bathroom here."

"That'd be nice." I leaned in, kissing his cheek, and enjoying the blush it caused.

Harry's fingers danced down my body and took hold of my hand. "Let me give you a little tour."

"Ooo fancy!" I scanned his residence enviously, until my eyes landed on his massive, and unmade bed. "You were sleeping?"

"Not exactly....was about to. But that doesn't matter now. Cuz I've got company!" he turned around to face me, his hands cradling my face, his sparkling green eyes looking directly into mine. "are you really here or is this the dream I'm having after going to bed thinkin' about you and worrying that I haven't heard from you? Is my subconscious just makin' this up? if so, I don't ever wanna wake up."

My heart melted in my chest. I didn't know what to say, so I simply kissed his lips, causing his eyes to flutter shut and his feet to momentarily lose balance before he held onto me to steady himself.

"Ca-can I...join you in the shower?" he asked, looking down at his feet.

"Seriously, Harry? shower sex? do you know how impractical that is?"

"N-no! not shower sex." He looked at me, briefly, before sheepishly looking down at the floor again, his arms finding their place around my waist. "N-not that I don't wanna fuck you. Just-- uhh...I just wanna hold you. If that's okay? You can say no! I can just wait."

I was glad Harry wasn't looking at me because I'm sure my face would've given me away instantly. I grabbed onto the sleeve of his robe, leading him to the bathroom. "Fine. You can come." I could feel his excited gaze on the back of my head.

***

"Food'll be here in 40 minutes." Harry placed the hotel phone back in its place.

I nodded, my eyes on the tv.

"So..." He stood by the side on the bed, towering over my scarcely covered body. My hair was still damp and he insisted I wear his t shirt even though I'd packed my own pajamas. "How long are you here for?" he spoke as he crawled onto the bed, situating himself squarely in between my legs.

"just- for the- uhh- the \ weekend" I stuttered as Harry's hands slipped under the fabric of my clothes and found my breasts, his thumb and index fingers lightly running over my nipples.

"Mustn't waste time, then" he kissed a line of wet, open mouth kisses from my belly button, reaching the band of my underwear. "May I?"

"Yes. God, yes." My breath quickened. Harry's soft voice asking for permission always got me even when we were sleeping together every other night. Tonight, it downright melted me. "P-please." I mewled, instantly embarrassed.

"Eager, are we?" the grin was obvious in his voice.

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

My heart fluttered in my chest, skipping a beat. "Yes, sir." I corrected.

"hmm.." Satisfied, Harry hooked his fingers through the band of my underwear, slowly, teasingly, dragging it down my legs. "That's my good girl."

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: "Rude, Red, and Royal"

Hello, everyone! Thank you all for your patience in waiting for this <3.

Time’s ‘a wastin’, so let’s dive right in. We open on the girls being escorted by the royal guards up to the palace which, as I said in my last recap, is in no way dependent on Ruby giving up Penny’s sword. They could have simply been ‘captured’ for the crime of denying His Highness a new birthday present and then, as Ruby does in a few minutes, weasel out a game by asking to cheer him up in recompense. The sword is superfluous to the plot, it doesn’t track that it exists in the Ever After, is only shakily compelling in its emotional impact on Ruby and, very soon, will literally be discarded. Though we had some genuinely good emotion last episode, what this could have been - should have been - is still far out of reach.

So they’re marching along and we get a shot of the palace as well as the... pieces? Monuments? Decorations? Embedded in the earth around them. I like the subtle nod towards a potential battle having taken place and the red stains against the white look - whether intentionally or not - like blood. It begs the question of what exactly occurred when Alyx visited. 

Yang: “Are we sure we should do this?”

Ruby: “Well, the Red King helped Alyx”

Weiss: “We’re not Alyx”

Real talk: I'm sick of team conversations consisting of the girls vaguely disagreeing with Ruby and then immediately bowing to her whim. This is, structurally, the same exchange we got in Volume 7 when Ruby decided to lie to Ironwood. Yang and Oscar go, ‘I'm not really happy with this :/’ Ruby reiterates her position, and then that’s it, everyone drops the subject. Why? Because Ruby is their leader? That doesn’t hold water anymore since Volume 8 gave us a Yang who’s upset with Ruby’s decisions and actively challenges her role as leader... at least until she’s suddenly, randomly worried about Blake instead. Now, we’re back to where we were in Volume 7 with Yang (and the others) only making token disagreements for Ruby to ignore. Why is everyone moving backwards in this show?

Never-mind that I actually agree with Ruby here. The girls have been shown plenty of evidence that they’re broadly repeating Alyx’s story, the fairy tale next depicts a King helping human girls lost in this world, and Weiss already tried - and failed - to just bypass all that and walk her way to the tree. Plus, it’s not like any of these guards pose a threat to the girls. You’re telling me they can beat the Ace Ops immediately after a major grimm battle, but we’re simultaneously supposed to believe that a bunch of foolish goons made of wood could take them out? So I legitimately don’t understand what Weiss and Yang’s hesitation is when all signs point to needing to do this, those signs imply a good outcome, they’ve failed to do anything else, and they are not - for them - in any real danger.

It honestly feels like RT is continually tossing in ‘disagreements’ so that they can claim the team still has diverse and rich relationships, but that only works if you ignore the realities of the situation and the fact that nothing ever comes of this division.

As they make their way the camera shows a bright blue butterfly following them. Given that this isn’t the last time we’ll see them, I can’t help but assume that the butterfly is another character (Alyx? Lewis?), or else is foreshadowing for someone with an association with butterflies. You know, like how we saw a crow a bunch of times when Qrow first showed up to fight Winter. Originally, I thought the butterfly was our Cat, but then the Cat just chases butterflies and tends to disappear rather than transform... so idk. We’ll see.

They arrive at the entrance to the palace and the guards start a big ta-do for His Majesty’s arrival. I'm not sure why the girls are freaking out? They’re supposedly oh so knowledgeable about fairy tales, this one in particular, they're going to see the King, but they don't realize that this is how the King is introduced? I can only assume this is an excuse to give us more absurd Weiss animations.

His Majesty arrives and, to the girls’ shock, he’s definitely not a King. He’s the Red Prince and the best thing I can say about him is that I really like the sound design. As a puppet, he clinks with every step and that consistency helps sell that this isn’t a human child. Other than that though? 

Oh my god he’s annoying. Like, he’s obviously supposed to be, but he’s annoying to the point where he’s not enjoyable to watch. I saw someone else compare him to Cordovin - an antagonist whose position and beliefs are immediately undermined because the narrative doesn't treat them seriously - but at least Cordovin was capable of holding a conversation without shrieking. Also, note that once again the girls’ conflict boils down to a joke. Why present them with a legitimately intimidating Prince they have to outwit when you can just give them a temper-tantruming child for the audience to laugh at, complete with snot bubbles?

The Prince doesn’t take kindly to them thinking he’s the King. “Well, I never! Coming to someone’s castle without even know who they are - and on my birthday!”

Eh, he’s kinda got a point lol.

As the Prince goes through his repertoire of screaming and jumping around, one of the guards angrily points out that “if it hadn’t been for your kind the King would still be here!” and everyone quickly shushes him.

Okay wait, so the girls are clearly recognizable as human then, right? I ask because that’s going to come as a huge shock to the Prince later in the episode, but here it’s treated as an obvious fact. How dare you be questioning the King’s disappearance when “your kind” are the ones who did away with him in the first place. So what are we supposed to take away from this? That this one guard is the only one to realize what the girls are and none of his buddies pick up on what he’s implied because they’re too busy keeping talk of the King quiet? That all these very obedient, desperate-to-please guards realize the girls are human and didn’t bother mentioning that to their Prince? 

That RT forgot this was supposed to be a Big Secret until the end of the episode and gave us a minor plot hole?

Regardless, Ruby curtseys to introduce herself and it’s cute enough to distract me. That's a nice shot.

The Prince continues to be annoying, to the point where I want to fast-forward through this scene, and Weiss whispers to Blake: “Ew. Did I use to be this unbearably pompous?” Weiss, I wish you were still unbearably pompous instead of unbearably ridiculous. Give me the Ice Queen over this goofy idiot any day. Still, I’m glad that she’s at least acknowledging her bad attitude from years ago, especially to Blake. It’s something... but not much. Again, this is primarily functioning as a moment of humor for the audience. We’re supposed to laugh at the Prince’s antics and Weiss’ unfounded worry - she was never that bad! Plus, the story doesn’t provide the time for an actual conversation. Like, say, Blake responding that no, you weren’t this annoying... you were just horrifically racist, which is worse.

I want everyone to remember that Weiss lost her inheritance and then deliberately escaped her abusive father. She returned to her Kingdom and was active in its destruction, leaving her without a home, without a title, and (to my ever-lasting frustration), no idea what happened to her own former ‘King,’ Jacques. She’s a princess without a throne, without a Kingdom, having spent years struggling with whether she’ll try to lead from that position of power and if so, how. What does it mean to rehabilitate the Schnee name? How does being a huntress and rejecting the 'crown' offered by her father (AKA being head of the company) accomplish that? Now she comes face-to-face with another entitled, bratty ruler who, on some level reminds her of her younger self...

... and we get a single, joke-y line about it.

If this Volume is meant to develop the characters, then actually let them develop. Next episode the girls will go through a literal seconds-long 'journey' that makes me go, "What was the point?" Each of these areas should have something that clearly ties into one of the girls' lifelong goals, acting as a sub-plot to Ruby's Volume-long depression. Visiting a palace with an annoying, abusive Prince is the PERFECT opportunity to let Weiss reflect on her own choices. Yet RWBY, as expected, has squandered it for more humor.

The guards take credit for finding Penny’s sword, despite Weiss’ protest, and present it to the eager, greedy Prince. However, he immediately kicks it away into the hedges because it’s green, not red. 

Okay, two things. One, as mentioned at the start of the recap I think this is a terrible way to (presumably) end Ruby’s journey with the sword - with the reminder that her 'journey' happened at the tail end of last episode and into the first five minutes of this one. To reiterate: what was the point of any of that? To show us that Ruby is sad about Penny? Yeah, we know that already. It’s bad enough that the story is trying to give her a grieving arc that should have happened at the end of Volume 3, but the best the story can do is tossing in a sword that shouldn't exist anymore, have Ruby immediately give it up to her enemies, and then leave it behind in the hedges somewhere, forever lost? I’m not saying the sword won’t show back up - I obviously have no idea what will occur throughout the rest of this Volume - but for now that’s a real bummer of an ending. Ruby runs to try and grab the sword and the guards block her way, so all she does is whisper, “How could you?” I don’t know, Ruby, maybe he did that because he’s a bratty, literal toy who has no idea why that hunk of aura is emotionally significant to you? The audience knows though, so how about you use that semblance of yours to fly around the guards and grab the sword? Or stay behind to snag it? Or endanger everyone by refusing to leave the palace grounds until you’ve found it because fuck everything that's a part of your friend!! Give us something to show that this last piece of Penny means something to you and that you’re willing to fight for it.

I mean, if I had lost a dear friend - twice! - and their weapon was the last reminder I had of them, and the only tether I currently had to my home, and the only means by which I had to defend myself with my scythe missing, I’d try a little harder to hold onto it. RIP to Ruby but I’m built different.

I actually really like that the Prince kicked the sword away because yeah, why would he want something green? And as established, he's a brat. But Ruby failed to do anything with that action and that remains oh so disappointing.

Also, second, why isn’t Ruby’s presence helping their cause? After all, Ruby is Little RED Riding Hood. The Prince might be mad that the sword is green, but shouldn’t he be pleased that one of the girls delivering it is dressed all in red? Take a look at this shot and how perfectly Ruby fits into the aesthetic of his Kingdom:

I kept expecting Ruby’s polite attitude and her overall look to be their key into securing a game. Or, more interestingly, for the Prince to decide that she will be his present instead: the sweet, young, ruby red girl who can play games with him forever and ever (maybe even with a Ruby who'd be tempted to stay because yes, that would be so much simpler...). Yet her coloring - a staple of RWBY's advertising, an in-world symbol of peace - has no influence whatsoever. It’s moments like that really undermine the arguments that such-and-such had to happen because this is the character’s inspiration. It clearly doesn’t have an impact the other 99% of the time, so why is that suddenly relevant? These girls are in a fairy tale, yet their own fairy tales have no bearing on how they navigate it.

For the crime of trying to present him with a green present, the two guards are taken out into the hedges and beheaded by their fellow soldiers. Now, at this point in the story it's unclear whether they've been killed (because they're clearly sentient beings), or if they're just, uh... disabled? (Because they're wooden toys that can probably lose their heads without actually dying.) Though now that I've written it like that, Option #2 doesn't sound much better, especially in a story that's supposedly exploring disability through one of our main characters. Regardless, the point is that even though the second half of our episode will clarify the guards' fate a bit - more on that later - for now the girls have a reaction like they've been killed. Or at least, they recognize that something truly awful has occurred.

So my question is this: why aren't they doing anything about it? Look, I realize that's a loaded question in the fandom given how often people want to run to the girls' defense - they're too tired, it's too dangerous, you can't possibly expect them to fix the whole world, etc. - but the fact remains that we are watching a story about heroes. So how can they just stand by and watch that happen? Or at least, given that they may not have been able to stop it, why aren't they trying to do something after the fact? Try to make a change? Ruby is grappling with the death of a friend and her own feelings of inadequacy. Weiss is, supposedly, worried about her own position as the heir to an abusive hierarchy. Yet neither of them is interested in doing something about the Prince, only playing nice so that he will help get them home. Is that the standard now? Our heroes will ignore the injustices they come across provided that this ignorance benefits them? That sounds a whole lot like Ironwood overlooking Mantle for his own greater good, something the girls went, 'We condemn wholeheartedly!' about. Toss in the fact that both Weiss and Yang just admitted that they didn't want to ask the Prince for help and you've got a recipe for them working to leave the Ever After in a better place than they arrived, rather than just playing by the harmful rules of Alyx's story in order to get what they want/need. 

Yes, you can make that 'greater good' claim given that they're trying to get back to fight Salem (and I'd be a hypocrite if I didn't weigh that given my own understanding of Ironwood's actions), but then at the very least give us a conversation where the girls debate the merits of risking a later/nonexistent return to help this world vs. ignoring injustice to help theirs. As it stands, I'm continually underwhelmed - if not outright appalled - by how the girls are depicted. What have they done since Volume 5 to actually help people? The most we've gotten is them trying to clean up messes they'd already made. Toss in the fact that there's no sense of urgency for them to get home - they're just meandering along, taking it slow, dodging the question of what they'll do about Salem when they get there, having cute romance moments on the side - and I simply can't buy that they're ignoring helping others out of a greater good necessity.

'Huntresses are heroes who help people who can't help themselves!' Blake will declare next episode and I'm like, okay, agreed... but when was the last time you helped someone? Was it when you ignored the Prince's horrible domain? Sat drinking tea while Atlas was besieged by grimm? Started a fight until you drew a Leviathan to an unsuspecting city? You've gotta put your actions behind those words, Blake.

And yeah, I get it. This is a small moment. It, like the vast majority of this Volume so far, is not meant to 100% be taken seriously. There's implied humor in the way the guards dig their nails into the path and beg for the Prince to reconsider. But at the end of the day, the story has given us a group of girls who, for the most part, already hate this Prince, watch him 'kill' two subjects due to a subpar birthday present, have a teammate who wants to be better than the caricature in front of her, and then... they do nothing with this. 

Hey, if Yang is going to be angry all the time, how about she be angry about this? Where's the fire they had back during the Mountain Glenn arc to fix the broken pieces of the world and help those who were most vulnerable? Where's the realization that this is a job and what they want - or even need - will always have to come second to the people they exist to protect?

Given some of the nice beats last episode, I was really hoping that I'd have more to praise in this one.

So Ruby watches this guy kick Penny's precious sword away and 'kill' two subjects. How does she react to that? By politely asking if they can cheer him up, of course. As said, I think Ruby is right that following in Alyx's footsteps is the best chance they've got of getting out of here (according to the information they currently have), but the writing really should have bypassed Yang and Weiss disagreeing if they wanted readers to ignore the moral implications of this. I mean, the Prince outright responds that "Beheading people does cheer me up" and Ruby's got this expression going as she suggests they play a game: 

We once again see the blue butterfly as it travels down through a tall tower of horns, straight into the chamber where the Prince's game is held. Oh, and we saw it before when the guard is distracted by it flying by and forgets to wish the Prince a happy birthday.

The Prince asks what Ruby will demand of him if she manages to win his game. "There's always a catch," he says. Actually, that's not true. Later the Prince will say, "If you win I will help you with what you ask," but initially his question is, "What exactly do you desire from me in exchange for playing my game?" As someone who loves fairy tales and constantly hopes RWBY is going to be more smartly written than it actually is, I jumped on that with an, "Ah ha! Rookie move, Prince! It doesn't matter now if you cheat to win the game, your original offer was to gift the girls something simply for playing, regardless of who comes out on top." Of course, RT didn't realize they'd written that loophole, this isn't even a cool world where loopholes matter, so absolutely nothing comes of this.

Still playing at the polite little subject, Ruby curtsey's again and tries a compliment: "Your Majesty, you are as wise as you are..." and then she stumbles, unsure of how to praise someone who's such an asshole. Little comes to the rescue - sort of - by whispering in Ruby's ear. She blurts "small" before she can think better of it.

To everyone's shock it goes over well with the Prince. I'm unsure if this is meant to imply that Little actually knew what the Prince would like to hear, or if they just chose a descriptor they were familiar with and ran with it. The latter seems a lot more likely to me, given the ongoing joke that Little is far less useful than they continually claim they are and the fact that, by their own admission, they’re an incredibly young mouse who has never traveled past their own acre. How in the world would they know about royal customs? 

Now in a better mood, the Prince agrees to take the girls to the tree if they win the game (not merely play with him). Ruby settles in and asks how they play, which sets off over-the-top laughter from the Prince and guards alike. I suppose this is just supposed to be off-putting or something? There’s no comment along the lines of, “You don’t know how to play [insert fantasy game here]? Everyone knows it! I play it with every subject who passes my way!” The Prince just starts explaining the rules, easy as you please. I can only chalk this moment up to the writers trying to get a, “They’re so weird and vaguely scary” reaction from the audience.

The actual rules are, frankly, unimportant. To the story, I mean. They have absolutely no bearing on who wins. Not just because the Prince is cheating from the get-go, but because the function of the game is to send all your pieces forward during the same turn and whichever piece wins their battle against the opposing side get to stay there. You could finish the game in two turns, tops--which is precisely what happens. Fool that I was, I had hoped that RT would put more thought into the game-battle that takes up the majority of the episode. You know, maybe hampering the girls’ combat abilities through a set of difficult rules they’re forced to follow, necessitating that Ruby step up as the team’s strategist for the first time in years and find a way to win through means other than brute force, even if the end result is still a technical loss due to cheating. I thought this might amount to something other than throwing 3/4ths of the team onto a battlefield with weak goons and letting them go to town, the trappings of rules and a game board and a puppet(tier) existing as more than just a distracting backdrop. Functionally, this is no different from the Prince angrily sending all his guards against Team RWBY, hoping to behead them for the crime of bringing him a green birthday present. We could have gotten this exact battle outside of the game, which makes the game itself superfluous. Which, you know, sucks when the girls are traversing a Wonderland-esque world where their ignorance should be their biggest weakness. But it turns out they’ve always been familiar with this fairy tale, Blake’s worry that they’re repeating Alxy’s mistakes is dismissed, and the girls don’t actually have to play the games they’re forced into. They can just punch things! 

Am I glad that we actually got some combat in the combat show this week? Absolutely. However, this has been one of the problems with Ever After from the start: designing a world governed by fairy tale logic, knowledge of stories, nonsense rules, contradictions... and then dropping a group of protagonists there who, as Yang herself says, would prefer to just solve everything with a punch. Suddenly, a core expectation of the series - that the girls will fight stuff - undermines the expectations of this specific Volume, made worse by the post-Volume 3 message that the war they fight isn’t winnable by brute force, yet, six years in, that’s all the girls have tried. As I believe I mentioned elsewhere, I think there’s a simple solution here in divvying up those expectations: force the girls to solve Ever After problems with Ever After tools, let them fight the Jabberwalker and Neo, and let them finally start the conversation about what they can do with Salem other than fight her head on... but unfortunately, none of this has occurred. Blake will later shut down Ruby’s Salem thoughts before they can begin, there’s no adherence to what Ever After is asking of them, and the girls won’t encounter the Jabberwalker again for another two episodes.

So we’re left with... this. Yang, Blake, and Weiss getting shrunk down when, narratively, that’s entirely unnecessary and the journey to get them unshrunk will take a fifth of the Volume’s entire runtime. I know we’ve already acknowledged that this Volume is filler, but given how much important stuff actually resides within that filler - discussing what happened in Volume 8, figuring out Salem, helping Ruby recover, mourning Penny, finding Crescent Rose, finding Jaune, dealing with Neo, etc. - it seems like a waste to be taking these detours when they’re so thematically unsatisfactory. Obviously in a story it’s about the journey, not the destination... but if the journey is badly written, how about we at least stop wandering from the main path so often?

Alright, enough of all that. I will say that I’m was quite pleased when the Prince revealed his ability to shrink the girls, displaying some pretty formidable magic. My first thought during the beheading scene was why the guards were obeying the Prince when, to all appearances at the time, he was just a bratty child with no way of enforcing his authority. I was afraid that this was just a case of, “They’re loyal because they’re guards and that’s just the way things are!” or that RT really hadn’t given this any thought; why hundreds of men-like beings with weapons were obeying a vulnerable child when, clearly, that wasn’t working out so well for them. Here though we see that the Prince is not vulnerable, he’s quite powerful, and that really helps to sell the fear we see permeating his Kingdom. 

Ruby is obviously concerned when her teammates are shrunk down to Little’s size, but honestly I can’t take her, “No one’s going to get hurt... right?” very seriously. Ruby is WAY past this kind of naive innocence. Girl, your friends are positioned alongside a bunch of beat-up warriors, facing a Prince who just beheaded two of his subjects. What do you think is going to happen here? More importantly, why are you worried? I’ve seen a couple of fans praise this moment because it highlights Ruby’s perspective post-Penny’s death: none of her friends are safe, anyone could die at any moment, etc. But Penny was facing off against a freaking Maiden, not a bunch of itty-bitty chess pieces with toothpick swords. (Here I point out their relative size because even if they’re now equal to WBY, Ruby is still large and could just flatten them all with one good stomp.) The point is that I’m continually unconvinced by this “So horror, much danger” characterization of the Ever After when we’ve spent the last three Volumes emphasizing how powerful, brilliant, strategic, and all-around perfect the girls supposedly are. We’re really supposed to believe that these literal pawns are worrisome to Ruby after they’ve faced down the likes of the Hound, the Ace Ops, Ironwood, Neo, Cinder, and their like? Imagine if Ruby saw a couple of Beowulfs 2/3rds of her team was about to fight, which to her were the size of mice, and she was all, “You won’t get hurt, right?” Ruby, those are literal MONSTERS out to EAT them, but that doesn’t matter because you’ve been taking out this kind of monster fodder since you were TWELVE. The show continually has it backwards, making the characters smug against legitimately powerful enemies and biting their nails over stuff they could squash in their sleep.

Which, you know, is precisely what happens. The girls have absolutely no difficulty taking out the chess pieces, further undermining Ruby’s worry.

Before that though she asks - very politely - for one of the pawns to move ahead a space, facing down the bigger, badder, meaner looking piece across from him. At first it looks like they’re pretty well-matched, but with a pointed look from the Prince, Ruby’s piece pretends to succumb to his wounds, collapsing until a magical stretcher appears to carry him away. He kicks back with a yawn, happy to be off the battlefield and, presumably, off His Majesty’s shit list.

Three other pieces meet the same end until Ruby gets to Weiss.

Ruby: “Weiss, do you think you could take that space?”

Weiss: “Have some faith!”

Again, I feel like the Volume is going for a total decimation of Ruby’s confidence, to the point where she’s entirely disengaged from reality (AKA, obviously Weiss can take out these talent-less pieces). Ruby can no longer summon up enough hope to fill a jar, she’s oh so worried that her elite team will fall to these grunts... but she’s also constantly telling people that yeah, they can handle this, and of course they’ll get back, and look now she’s acting like she always does with smiles and jokes - a part of the endless gags. There’s also no relief when Weiss does win her fight. I think Ruby’s smile is super cute there

but it doesn’t piggyback off of that worry at all. There’s no sigh and maybe a comment whispered to bring herself back to reality, “Come on, Ruby, of course Weiss was gonna win” - something to alert the viewer that Ruby is actually struggling with this kind of irrational anxiety and attempting to fight against it. As it stands, we keep seeing Ruby’s depression introduced and then it slips away again, unacknowledged until it randomly pops back up. “Have some faith!” Weiss says, which is clearly a callback to Ruby’s lack of it last episode, but nothing that happens either confirms or denies Ruby’s struggle. That shot of her smiling, while adorable, could have been taken from any moment where Weiss is being a badass. It’s entirely disconnected from the extreme of, “Omg can a full-fledged Huntress take out a toy in a fight what if another one of my teammates DIE?” Ruby has two completely separate personalities going this Volume and they don’t mesh at all.

The pawns are also super impressed with Weiss’ victory, same with Yang’s, and that feels... wrong to me? I mean, I’ve got nothing against a team that’s been beaten for who knows how long re-discovering faith (like Ruby) and rising to the occasion. (C'mon. I’m a Ted Lasso fan. I eat that shit up.) However, that’s not the conflict here. The conflict the white pieces are facing is not that they think they can’t win, it’s that they’re being told they can’t win. By the Prince. That was the entire point of the Look™ the white piece bowed to: Either you pretend to fall and deliberately lose this game, or I’ll ensure you suffer something so much worse.

Why then would the pieces suddenly rise to the occasion and try to help Team RWBY win? What have the girls done that convinces them to go against the Prince, risking who knows what - beheading, probably - in the process? Now, if I were writing Volume 9 I’d have had the girls trying and failing to save the guards, or at least arguing forcefully about whether they can risk losing a route to the tree in order to help others. Then, during the game, let Ruby realize not only that her pieces are deliberately losing, but that they’re doing so out of fear. Weiss and Yang’s success can be used as a rallying cry and a promise of safety. You help us win this game, securing our necessary prize, and we’ll use our incredible power to protect you from the Prince. The game dissolves into an actual battle, Team RWBY wins, the Cat arrives with an escape route, Ruby gathers up all the pieces using her semblance, and she sets them free once they escape the castle. Maybe they return at the end of the Volume to help in some final battle.

The point of this is not to do an actual re-write in 30 seconds, but rather to acknowledge that there’s no development here. We know the pieces’ initial motivation, but not what makes them change their minds. Really, this micro plot is representative of the entire show, with characters just suddenly doing things that make the audience go, “Wait, what? Where did that come from?” 

“Hey, hey, what about us?” The white chess pieces cry, suddenly eager to try and beat the Prince. “What do you want us to do?” This question shouldn’t even be on the table because you all are clearly terrified of what will happen if you fight for real and Team RWBY has done nothing to persuade you to their side. Indeed, once it’s revealed that the girls are human the red and white pieces start attacking them, the entire board eager to defend their Prince. This feels like a round robin Volume where every episode - every scene - has different characterizations.

As said though, Weiss, Blake, and Yang all take out their pieces easy-peasy and that produces some super cute interactions between the girls. My fluff-obsessed ass if kicking my feet and twirling my hair at those screenshots. At the time of this writing, I’m a couple episodes behind in Recaps (RIP I tried), which means that I’ve already experienced the less than stellar support Ruby receives in "The Parfait Predicament.” So I was pleased to return here and see strong moments of companionship - and romance. Yang works the crowd while Blake politely claps for her. In return, Yang cheers exuberantly while Blake blushes beet red. Putting aside that this is our bumblebee moment for the episode, I legitimately love that they’re supporting each other in this way, even during - perhaps especially during - such a comparatively easy fight. Combined with Weiss’ bow, it feels like they’re actually friends in this moment, playfully showing off for one another and providing unconditional support. This feels like old school RWBY, back when Ruby would cheer for Weiss during class, or Yang would bask in the Vacuo crowd. It was nice to see this dynamic again.

The Prince gets more and more frustrated as his pieces fall while simultaneously becoming suspicious of Ruby. Wanting to get to the tree is weird enough - especially to creatures who, as far as we’ve seen, never leave the safety of their own acres. Little who does not yet possess a purpose is the exception - so when Ruby reveals that they know someone who also used the tree to leave this world, the Prince really starts to lose it. He leaves the game table and... well...

Opinions about his character aside, are non-RWDE folks starting to see why we labeled Volume 8 Ironwood a “cartoon villain”? No, he doesn’t strike such an overblown pose like the Prince, but that kind of spotlight is (usually) used to showcase a drama worthy of ridicule - as we’re seeing here. RT obviously recognizes this, so the fact that Ironwood is given a similar spotlight to reveal his totally rational plan of bombing civilians heavily implies that the writers wanted him to look ridiculous; exaggerated to the point of dismissive humor. By the end of Volume 8 Ironwood was not a complex, fallen hero whose journey showcases RT’s writing chops, he was very close to another Prince: nonsensical, over-the-top, unworthy of respect not because of his actions, but because the environment is going out of its way to say, “Look how ridiculous this guy is.”

So in the grand scheme of RWBY the spotlight is a #choice. Within just this scene it’s fine, simply another way to show us how spoiled the Prince is and, potentially, that this world doesn’t follow the rules of Remnant (though it is harder to argue that the spotlight is real-real in a Volume making use of markers like sweatdrops, angry speech bubbles, etc.) The Prince finally asks the right question: “What type of creatures did you say you are again?”

Now, I get why some fans are upset with Ruby differentiating among humans, mice, and faunus. The line leaves a sour taste in my mouth too, if only because it severely undermines the allegory Blake represents in a Volume where she will (so far) compare herself to a literal cat three times. The point of giving the faunus animal traits and having others discriminate against them on the basis of that is to mirror the Civil Rights movement and, to a lesser extent, other minorities with visible differences. They’re all “human” in the sense of being bipedal primates with intelligence - emotional and logical - equal to others around them... they just happen to have an extra set of ears, or a tail, or the ability to change colors. It’s obvious why RT meant to equate that with the real life social issue of, “They’re human, they just happen to have dark skin,” or were born without a leg (disability), or can curl their tongue (a biological “talent” that not everyone shares). The point is that the faunus have been going, “We are your equals! We’re not a different, lesser species just because we have minor, biological and cultural differences!” the same way social justice movements have said the same about skin color. There’s such a variety within the definition of “humanity” as to make separate categories not just horrifically dangerous, but ultimately meaningless too.

However... RT doesn’t know how to write a racial allegory, which means that the faunus have been treated as a separate species from the get-go, in direct opposition to what their story is meant to represent. They’ve always been separated verbally like Ruby is doing now - “Humans and faunus” - and if you’ve engaged with RWBY’s supplemental content at all you’ll know that the faunus have a separate origin story, though one that does include humanity as a common ancestor.

It’s a mess of contradictions, but that means that Ruby canonically does have the wiggle room to make such statements. According to the rules of her world - generously helped along by being sci-fi fantasy - she is not in the wrong to describe Blake as a separate “creature” from the rest of her team... but that doesn’t erase the discomfort for the viewer as we go, ‘Wait? What happened to Blake being treated as an equal, not a literal animal and all that represents within her allegory?’

Of course, all this culminates in Ruby ignorantly admitting that the rest of them are human. I LOVE the first shot of the Cat’s eyes. They’re just like, ‘Oh, girl... you didn’t smh.’

Legit, there are so many fantastic shots this episode. The animators are working so hard, god bless.

As I mentioned earlier though, it’s weird to me that this moment is treated as a huge revelation for the Prince, especially since his entire guard seems to realize that they’re human from the get-go. Given what we learn later about Ascension, it makes sense that the Prince wouldn’t remember what humans look like, but none of his super loyal subjects were going to bring him up to date? Especially after what happened when Alyx visited?

So much of RWBY just feels unnecessarily contrived. Characters don’t react to the information they have, or work under their motivations, or remain consistent in their personalities. Things just #happen to move the plot along, regardless of how that sits within the story as a whole. At least it's all pretty this season.

But that’s hardly news to anyone reading this. Regardless, the revelation shocks the Prince and in his fury his face literally cracks down the middle. Frankly, I would have liked if this moment heralded a turn in the Prince’s attitude, moving from bratty and mostly harmless to terrifyingly cold... but that’s just me. I like characters that appear embarrassingly incompetent on the surface, only to reveal how dangerous they truly are when push comes to shove.

Weiss remembers that she can use her glyphs to steady herself - yay! - and a jazz-y soundtrack starts up that I really dig. All in all, I think this fight is solid. Nothing to write home about, but not a failure by any means, either. Though I fully expect the combat to get backloaded to the end of the Volume, it is notable that this is our only true battle so far. There’s a brief skirmish against the Jabberwalker in “The Parfait Predicament,” but to my mind it’s so short and easily won as to not really “count” - not in a combat-focused show, anyway. So this is the highlight battle of the first half of this Volume and though, as said, it’s by no means bad... it’s not exactly carrying the weight of those expectations either.

First, I stand by what I said earlier that it’s downright weird how Team RWBY treats these toys as a legitimate threat, especially after they just demonstrated how easily they are to beat. And again, Ruby could say screw the rules and help out by flattening them with her comparatively giant size. Blake gets thrown into the side of the game board and Ruby acts like she’s been stabbed--“You’re going to hurt them!” Ruby... honey... they have aura. You literally slammed your friends against a wall for FUNSIES during a food fight. The show (and the fandom) has always been weirdly unclear about which attacks are emotionally significant and which are not. These little nobodies shoving Blake is cause for great concern, but everyone should shrug off Qrow punching Oscar because duh, any huntsmen can take a hit. (Never mind that he wasn’t a huntsmen.) Yang losing her arm is a multi-Volume tragedy, but Weiss nearly dying from a stab wound isn’t worth a second mention. I feel like every scene I’m trying to find my bearings again - is this supposed to be a moment when the girls are legitimately scared? Confidently smug in their skills? Why is there not an obvious difference between when we get one over the other?

I’m not buying into the stakes here, is my point, which means that Ruby’s moment of doubt really fails to land. Yeah, I get that she lacks hope right now and is likely working under a very warped perception of their strength post-Fall of Atlas, but why not have her briefly crumble against something that truly tests her, either in skills or via trauma: the Prince’s magic, the Jabberwalker, Neo? A mere three episodes into the Volume, against a collection of low level grunts, does not feel like the time to put Ruby in this state:

Plus, it doesn’t last. Volume 9 continually proves to be very good at introducing Ruby’s hopelessness, but not doing anything with it. What’s the point if, literal seconds after she’s given up, she rediscovers her faith - WITHOUT EXTERNAL HELP! - and yells that they’re going to “Kick their wooden butts!!” Ruby doesn’t lack the hope to fill a jar, her hope supply is just fluctuating radically, depending on when the show is sick of her being a downer. This doesn’t feel like Ruby on an arc, it feels like Ruby continually edging into one and them immediately getting yanked backwards.

That aside, there are definitely some high points to the fight. It has a good flow to it, especially in the second half. It makes complete sense that the whole board would turn against the girls once they learn that they’re human, red teaming up with white, and I suppose that helps sell the danger a little more. I enjoyed how happy Yang was at the start, using Blake’s ribbon to plough through the crowd like one of the old-school team fights, even if she’s unexpectedly angry just a second later.

I’ve come across a lot of criticism of Weiss’ wing shot and... yeah, I can see where that’s coming from. It’s in pretty bad taste to keep giving the racist billionaire’s daughter angel imagery, especially during a Volume when she’s supposedly grappling with the guilt of destroying a Kingdom. RWBY has never been any good at picking up on the implications of its “cool” style. That being said, it is an awesome shot and I love the Yang was able to make use of the Knight’s sword. I mean, it would have been even cooler if we had scenes devoted to the girls’ training/character development and they’d discovered that this was even possible before enacting it with full confidence during a fight... but again, still cool. It’s another nice not provided you don’t think about it too much.

Also, I had to laugh at that epic image transitioning to Ruby, showing us just how tiny Yang actually is...

Yeah, that undermines the awesomeness a bit lol.

We’re given the shot from our trailer as the Prince looses his temper and does what I wanted Ruby to do the moment she was supposedly frantic over the safety of her team: upset the game board. Blake, Weiss, and Yang are thrown across the room and Ruby activates her semblance, catching them right before they go over the ledge.

...

.......

OH, SO YOU CAN INSTANTLY KICK-START THAT ABILITY AND SNAG SOMEONE MOMENTS BEFORE THEY PLUNGE TO THEIR DEATH. FUNNY, THAT.

Okay, obviously there are differences between Yang’s fall and this one, including that a) Little helps Ruby out and b) on the bridge Ruby would have been trying to snag a fully grown woman. But I’m not here to debate the details. I’m not here to quibble over whether Ruby would have been able to save Yang. I only care that she (and the others) didn’t try. The fandom has bent over backwards to explain that moment, how all these fighters with various forms of flight and well-honed instincts just stood there, leaving only Blake to make the attempt. Fans are so desperate to praise RWBY that they’re consistently overlooking the simple explanation of bad writing: RT made the characters stupid so that Yang could “die” and there could be a bees moment as a result. That’s it. Now that there’s nothing attached to the outcome, Ruby is free to remember that she has super-speed and grabs her friends like she always should have.

Man, what a detail to include just a few episodes later...

The Curious Cat finally reveals themselves, distracting the Prince with some ambiguously authentic sympathy. It’s just so sad that he’s failing to do “the one thing you were put on this acre to do.” AKA, win games. They warn the Prince that beheading Team RWBY would be a far more permanent consequence than taking the heads of his soldiers - implying that the guards are “fine” but, again, Team RWBY couldn’t have known that when they were being “killed” - and they slip a little bit of themselves into the Prince’s chest, helping him to calm down.

The Prince dissolves into crying instead of screaming and... weeps jeweled tears? I don’t understand how that fits his aesthetic - what does that have to do with being a wooden toy? - but far more importantly, Yukina did it better:

Ruby takes the Cat’s advice and high-tails it out of there, getting chased by the guards all the while. The castle is a bit labyrinth-like, so she has no choice but to trust the Cat’s directions - which turn out to be sound. That’s potentially an important thing to keep in mind as the Volume continues and we learn more about the Cat’s personality and motivations.

“I don’t know how that went so wrong,” Ruby says when they finally have a moment to breathe. Really? You met a temper-tanruming toy that beheaded his guards and threw Penny’s sword away without a second thought, but you’re surprised that he wasn’t eager to help you after you beat him at this own game? I get that they’re going for a ‘Ruby is vulnerable and tentative in her depression’ vibe, but these moments read so strangely after her hubris of Volumes 6-8, to say nothing of her experience in the wider, morally gray world. Ruby doesn’t trust established allies, but is surprised when an asshole who owes her nothing doesn’t come through? Consistency, consistency, my kingdom for some consistency.

I do like that Ruby thanks the Cat for their assistance though. This episode is the most polite we’ve seen Ruby in years, even if part of it is a manipulation tactic to get on the Prince’s good side, and honestly I’m digging it. This feels like a kindhearted huntress who understands the importance of unifying to succeed. Not, you know, the Ruby we saw with Cordovin, Qrow, Ozpin, Ironwood, and the Ace Ops.

As a minor point, I’d like to note that throughout this whole escape Little has been completely quiet about the Cat’s appearance. They were awake to help catch the girls and the Cat showed up just seconds later. They then flee through the castle and have a conversation in the hallways, yet not once does Little react to a Cat getting up in their face.

This is notable only because at the very end of the episode we’re going to get another, “Cat? What cat??” joke, because heaven forbid we let Ruby sit with their failure for a moment without interrupting it with a bit of humor that doesn’t even track.

Finally outside, the girls realize that getting a Prince instead of a King and his lack of help means that they’re not really following Alyx’s story. Weiss complains that they’re in the “stupid sequel” instead. Despite this revelation, the next thing Blake notes is that Alyx met the Curious Cat... so they should get their help!

So which is it? Are you following the story or not? I’ve got nothing against the girls still heading for the tree because that’s the only lead they’ve got, but we just established that an assumed ally is actually quite dangerous, so why would the Cat be any different? Again, not saying they shouldn't ask for their help given that the only other option is wandering aimlessly towards the tree (and that's if the world let's them go any farther), but maybe at least acknowledge the problem here?

I'd chalk it up to a "Wonderland-esque worlds are inherently contradictory" vibe if I actually thought RT was deliberately going for that.

We end this episode with the return of the Jabberwalker. It runs across an ~evil~ looking acre--kinda similar to Salem's continent, actually. Will we establish a historical tether between Remnant and Ever After?--and it leaves a trail of blood on a group of razor-sharp leaves, which is a cool detail. It comes across Neo, presumably having just arrived, cycling through various illusions in her fury. As the Jabberwalker closes in Neo's semblance...

*Sigh*

It evolves.

Look, outside of RWBY's larger context having Neo power up post-Fall of Atlas is a good choice. She's certainly at her lowest here, not just lost in a new world, but having just been betrayed by Cinder (again). Plus, it raises the stakes for when our heroes next meet her. No, my issue is that RWBY's semblance upgrades as a whole are fairly random and we've long lost the ability to distinguish a true evolution from incremental change due to growth. Harriet simply announced in Volume 7 that Ruby's semblance has hidden depths, but is splitting into three red blurs the upgrade? Is Nora handling that level of charge meant to be indicative of a change, or did she simply push herself to an already known limit? On the surface it seems obvious that an evolution is when the actual function of the semblance changes - Ren can now mask emotions and track them - but we've still got wrinkles like Weiss' semblance where, apparently, learning to summon instead of just producing glyphs isn't a distinct, evolved ability, it's just the standard end-goal. (And don't get me started on how she remains the only one with an inherited semblance, but no one seems interested in that.) Are we supposed to understand that Qrow's semblance changed on the airship when the bomb didn't drop? How do we measure Blake's abilities when she's stopped using them? I can't help but continually compare RWBY to other shows with power ups, ones where the characters have to work hard to unlock them, train anew to control them, deal with significant downsides that come with this power, or go through horrific emotional arcs in order to unlock them. RWBY- with the small exception of Neo for the last one- has none of this. Evolution simply happens, unprompted, the character can immediately use this new skill perfectly, and unfortunately it's rarely a strong reflection of their growth.

Ren can magically track his friend smack dab in the arc where he's supposedly being the worst friend ever? Right.

So Neo's semblance evolves, make of that what you will. Rather than simply changing herself or something she's touched with illusions, she can now create a large number of copies with (as we'll see later) their own morphing abilities. Wow, wow, wow, that's super op!!! I can't wait to see Neo fall to some generic Team RWBY attack.

I'm kidding. Actually I'm not, but I do hope I'm wrong 🤦‍♀️

For now though there's only the Jabberwalker in her way. Neo's clones close in as the Jabberwalker screams "No!" in true fear. Kudos to the voice acting there. This creature remains one of the few things I'm legitimately interested in this Volume.

And thus ends episode three! In lieu of flowers, please send prayers that I can eventually catch up on this project :3

[serafiel-jacobs]

His Favorite (Fanfic)

Angst One Shot about Geppetto's favorite Puppet💛

“Giuseppe Geppetto, it’s an honor for me to interview the father of all puppets”

Geppetto would have rather not done this interview, yet here he is, representing the Workshop Union, as it is his duty as the director, “Please, that’s quite the title, you can call me Geppetto if you like”

“Well Mr. Geppetto, there is no denying the success you and your puppets have, I suppose you are excited about the showcase of the Grand Exhibition”

“Yes… it has been on my mind”

It seems now that enough time has passed where people no longer give their condolences once they see him, why should they? He should have moved on by now.

“Wonderful, I’ve been informed that not just newer models will be involved but a showcase of previous ones, a brief history of their creation so to speak”

That was his idea, Venigni suggested they should focus on their new technology, he is not fond of the puppets that were created before the Grand Covenant, however, he worked hard to make all of those models, old and new, “That is correct, all puppets ever created will have their spotlight”

“I am quite curious, and I believe I speak for a lot of people when I ask this… which is your favorite puppet? What is your greatest creation?”

—-

Geppetto looked at the boy, standing still in front of him, quietly, he never spoke unless spoken to, how long had he been standing there waiting for him to say something?

“Oh please forgive me, I was just consumed in some old memories”

The boy nods, saying how he just came back from the Grand Exhibition, telling him about what the alchemists were scheming. Geppetto knew he should have never trusted them, it’s all their fault this happened, spreading that damned disease, it’s their fault he…

Geppetto takes a deep breath, composing himself, “This must be devastating for Antonia, you should keep her company in these hard times”

Again, the boy nods, so dutiful, so obedient towards him. He is almost out of the door when Geppetto calls for him again, how foolish of him, he almost forgot. Opening one of the drawers in his desk and standing up, the two of them now in front of each other.

“I have a gift for you”

Geppetto smiles, revealing a necklace that has a small quartz as its decoration, not a real one of course, those are too valuable to waste on a necklace, rather one he made himself out of the limited tools he has instead. Gently putting it around his neck, the boy smiling widely at him.

“Do you like it?”

He nods enthusiastically, he loves it and makes his feelings well known to his father.

“A precious gift to someone who is very precious to me,” Geppetto played with his hair, everything was well, everything should have been perfect.

Yet something in the back of his mind bothered him.

“… You wouldn’t give this to anyone else would you?”

The boy shakes his head, it’s a special gift from his father, and he would never give it away to anyone else.

“That’s good,” Geppetto breathed a sigh of relief, “Thank you, for always being such a good boy to me”

Geppetto extended his arms, at first the boy was a little confused until he realized his father was going to hug him, so ecstatic that he forgot to manage his force, being a little too forceful with his father as they hugged each other, apologizing immediately, making Geppetto laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m happy you think so fondly of me,” Geppetto looked at him, no, he looked behind him, at that painting, “Soon, the two of us will be the family we were always meant to be”

—-

Geppetto took a deep breath, stepping inside Hotel Krat, blood splattered across the entrance, he sighed, something for him to clean up later. Slowly walking into the front lobby, his age makes it so he has a harder time these days, feeling how the puppets had their gaze on him, staring directly and intensely, he paid them no mind. It was a rushed job, he can polish them up later once he has the proper tools, for now, he has other priorities.

Upstairs, he enters the room, having no time to say anything before Carlo almost tackles him with a hug, ecstatic to his father again.

“Carlo, I’m so happy to see you too,” Geppetto smiled, looking at his son, wiping some blood out of his face, “What happened this time?”

“Some people came,” Carlo smiled back at him, “I didn’t like them, they didn’t want to play with me”

Not the first time this happens, it looks like he is going to have to make some adjustments to the security system of the Hotel. He should have done that when he deactivated the stargazer, but it doesn’t matter now, he won’t let anyone else enter, they could hurt his precious son. This is for Carlo’s sake too, so far he hasn’t tried to sneak out, yet Geppetto worries he might do so one of these days, he is a good boy just… a little mischievous from time to time, and he cannot allow that.

“Son, you have your toys to play downstairs with, you don’t need more playmates,” Geppetto played with his hair, “But if you are feeling lonely, I can build you more”

Carlo pointed at the chair on the opposite side of the room, “I want that one!”

Geppetto turned to look at it, on the floor was the box, opened, and on that chair…

“It’s going to be difficult Carlo,” Geppetto’s voice was gentle trying not to upset him, “He needs a heart, one like yours”

“Can’t I give him half of mine?” Carlo pouted.

“No, sweetheart that’s not how it works,” Geppetto touched Carlo’s chest, his gray and decayed skin made it almost feel numb. His fingers began to glow, the mechanism working as intended. It’s all looking good, his heart is stable, there are no issues, there shouldn’t be any issues, yet does this constantly, as a father, he needs to be sure.

Taking his palm away, Carlo cries out in pain, Geppetto comforting him, saying how everything is going to be alright, that soon, they can be the family they were always meant to be.

“Father-”

“Carlo, it’s getting late, I don’t want you staying up for too long,” Geppetto’s voice was now firm, “You know it’s time for you to go to bed”

Carlo pouted again, he didn’t want to go to bed, but now his chest hurts really badly. It always hurts when father does that, it’s for his own good, that’s what his father says. Because his heart is special, no one else has a heart like his, Carlo knows his father is right because each time someone comes here, he takes theirs away, and none of them have his kind of heart.

“I’ll be there in a moment, there is something I need to do first”

Carlo nodded, quickly leaving the room. Once again, Geppetto took a deep breath, making his way towards the chair, he really needs to find a way for Carlo to stop snooping around his belongings. He carries the boy in his arms and carefully sets him inside the box, his eyes closed looking as if he was sleeping, the boy had asked him before what sleeping felt like.

Geppetto touched his face gently, he is still wearing that necklace, making him smile, he never took it off, he never let anything bad happen to it, he wore it when he gave him the heart and he is still wearing it now.

Geppetto put his hands on the box ready to close it, his thoughts consuming him and making him stop. Thoughts about the alchemists, about the frenzy, how Carlo died, thoughts about the past…

“… which is your favorite puppet? What is your greatest creation?”

“Thank you, for always being such a good boy to me,” Geppetto couldn’t stop smiling now that he knew his answer, whispering the boy’s name one last time before sealing the box shut, not to be opened ever again.