#I guess someone has to keep the accident factory running

[detentiontrack]

I was really stressed out and triggered and planning on skipping class and not eating until tonight (bad idea) and I got pulled from front and I just “woke up” (fronted again) and I’m in my car at the gas station with my school bag packed, fully dressed, and a pasta salad with chicken and a receipt on my passenger seat. Also my playlist with taylor swift that I usually have on while driving isn’t playing, instead it is 100% Cam’s music taste. Cameron has been here…..

[donnerpartyofone]

tagged by @moviesludge so this totally gratuitous info dump is his fault! Har har.

Do you make your bed? Sometimes! We usually just smooth out the covers, just so it's easy to get in at night and not all tangled up. I have a lot of just, executive and mechanical problems with maintenance and cleaning. I actually like having things neat and I like the monotony of cleaning, I have a fantasy life in which I'm just straight up a housewife, but I'm really bad at it. It causes me a lot of grief.

Fave number? 2! From when I was really little I had this sense that two was coming up all the time; obviously this must have been some sort of projection, but it stuck with me. I perceived some sort of subtext about being number two in life somehow, like being good but not meaningfully great at anything, which is fairly neurotic but typical of me as a kid. Anyway I was very disappointed when I learned by accident that Adam Levine has "222" tattooed on his arm, so I guess I won't be doing anything like that!

What’s your job? I guess I have to say I'm a writer, which feels embarrassing. If you say something like that, it sounds like you are succeeding at it, or that you at least make a living that way! Which is not, and may never be true. But it's the only thing anyone will pay me for right now. I have to admit that I feel pretty bad about this, I think I made a huge mistake by trying to see what I could do with my life, and not devoting absolutely all of my energy to finding and keeping a job in a cubicle or behind a cash register. Everyone automatically tells you it's best to "follow your dreams" or whatever but it's not very romantic to have no idea what's going to happen to you, and to be in danger because you're a fucking infant who doesn't know how life works.

Go back to school? Probably not. I was a good student up until I got into college, then I completely fell apart. Part of it was what I now understand are neurological issues, part of it was that I was so depressed I couldn't even get up and go to exams at times, and part of it was that I just had absolutely no idea what to do with my life or even HOW people do things with their lives (I still don't). Like I almost should have just done another four years in high school, or until I had some mental grasp of what college is even for, as a tool for transitioning into real life. The irony is that now I do college-level (possibly even grad level, sometimes) research and writing all the time, under my own power, just because I'm interested and I have a few outlets for it. My professors who struggled to get me to do anything would kill me if they could see what I'm doing now, haha. But if I were to go back to school, I would have to have an absolutely definite plan of why and what to do with it, that would make the debt and the time sink worth it. I admire people who do this, though, I do know adults who totally turned their lives around that way. I just don't have the brains for that.

Can you parallel park? I don't have a driver's license! I learned to drive, and I seem to recall being good at this during lessons. But I failed my one test, I genuinely think the conductor was being really confusing and getting angry with me--like, I was waiting at a light and when it turned green I started to go, and she goes, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!" and I said "I stopped at the red light and when it turned green I drove in the direction you told me to" and she goes "...WELL DID YOU *NOTICE* THAT IT TURNED GREEN???" which was a totally mindblowing question. And then I just felt so demoralized that I never tested again. But I also really think that if I got my license I would be dead by now, or someone else would be. I'm just so extremely nervous and absent-minded, and I also have pretty bad spacial understanding.

Job you had that would surprise people? My first job was working in a perfume factory! Or really it was like a plant that packaged these extremely toxic dollar store perfumes. It was run by a Russian family who were totally fucking insane and the machines were all janky, it was just a handful of us girls from high school working there and it's amazing none of us ever got maimed. The glue for the labels was really shitty, so they would set pallets of bottles out in the sun until they were blazing hot and then we were supposed to roll them between our palms to stick the labels back on. It was extremely painful and I remember thinking, they probably shouldn't be allowed to make us do this lol. The building was tucked back off the road across this wasteland, and there was a giant pile of broken toilets out front. I'll never forget that, I wish I had a photo.

Aliens real? You know what, I'm going to completely plagiarize moviesludge's answer because I find it so satisfying: "I feel like the scope of the universe makes this a certainty and it amazes me how many people think it’s a ridiculous idea. Talk about main character syndrome!" And I will just add that I read Whitley Strieber's Communion for the first time last year and it totally stunned me. I thought I knew what it was going to be like, because to some degree it established all of our cliches about alien abduction, but there's way more to it than that. He has this existential concept about what aliens even are, and what rules they obey, that is not at all restricted to the idea of animals that drive machines around. It's totally worth reading.

Can you drive stick? That's how I learned actually! And I have this concept that if I did have to drive I would be decent at it because I was fairly comfortable during lessons, and for years I have been riding my bike in really tricky situations all over the city. I know and obey the rules and I have a pretty good awareness of myself on the road. And also I always seem to be paired with a best friend or partner who LOVES to drive and I have spent huge amounts of time in cars, paying close attention and helping navigate. But as I said above, my brain is also garbage and I think if I drove a LOT and gave myself regular opportunities to get in trouble, I would inevitably have a nervous breakdown and/or fuck up way worse than a normal person.

Guilty pleasure? I'm with @thechurchofsplatterdaysaintssplatterdaysaints in that I sort of object to this concept. But I also spend a lot of time watching absolute shit movies and television, and some of the time I have an excuse--it's fun, it's anthropologically interesting, whatever--but a lot of the time I'm literally just deadening my senses because I'm so overloaded with depression and anxiety, and I'm not even paying attention, the TV is just ON. I don't think that's great. I don't know if I would call this "pleasure" but it is some form of indulgence.

Tattoos? A bunch! It's hard to explain but I kind of used them as a form of exposure therapy. I have struggled with some kind of phobia of doing anything that you can never change or take back, and getting tattoos helped. And I like them, I like most of mine. There's only two I'm really not crazy about, but they don't upset me that much, they have their good points too.

Fave color? Mainly red. Also orange and yellow and black. I kind of hate blue, my enjoyment of blue is highly conditional.

Fave type of music? In this phase of my life I generically prefer experimental or ambient music with no lyrics or vocals. This can span a lot of eras and genres.

Do you like puzzles? Maybe I would if I did them and I might find it therapeutic. Generally speaking I feel too stupid for them; like one thing I like about the original Resident Evil 4 is that the puzzle aspect of it is so primitive, it's almost in there just to check a box in between button-mashing violence. That's more my speed of game entertainment.

Phobias? Hm I'm afraid of lots of things, but as far as a proper phobia that's irrational: I have these fantasies of things exploding, like just shattering for no reason and being incredibly destructive. Like common household objects or whatever. And I have a lot of intrusive thoughts about people around me suddenly turning into psychotic monsters (monster can be literal or figurative) and I just can't find a rational defense reaction. But these are not true phobias in the sense of being a real, controlling force in my decision-making, I don't think they're really going to affect me. I really enjoy that thing about how trypohobia is not a real phobia because no one has to be treated for it in order to effectively navigate their life. It's just a dislike, and a pretty normal and understandable one. People on the internet have a lot of trouble telling the difference between things like phobias, moral objections, and just stuff that they don't like!

Favorite childhood sport? I was and am a total loser who can't do sports, but I guess the answer is karate. I took a year or two of that at a really great place sometime when I was 10-12, I really enjoyed the repetitive discipline of it and I was good at that kind of slow and steady, strength-based thing. I could say that I stopped because my mom was dying and that sapped my motivation, but I actually think the truth is that I was getting to the point where sparring was more a part of it, and I'm not fast or spontaneous and I don't like when people touch me, so I knew I was never going to test out of my last belt and I might not enjoy it as much as I advanced. I still think about doing another martial art, though. I think it might help me pay attention to my physical health, and get out of my head and into my body, and maybe it would also help me learn not to be so afraid of human contact. I need to pick something that's decent for people who are short and squat, though. Everyone always tells you there's no rule that says certain forms are suited to certain body types, it's all about integrity and commitment and building ability, but I really don't think that's true! (Let me know if you have opinions on this)

Talk to yourself? Yeah. Living in the city for a long time bred the habit of talking to myself like an absolute crazy person right out on the street when I'm not doing well; it's like, everyone else is acting crazy, who fucking cares! But I'll also talk to myself when I'm alone in the house just because I like words and making sounds and telling jokes. I have no problem with the stigma of talking to oneself.

Movies you adore? So many. Movies are my whole life. How do I pick, I don't know! Some recent ones I had to write about are UZUMAKI, DELICATESSEN, SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES, and DELLAMORTE DELLAMORE which might literally be my favorite movie of all time, although I have a problem with that concept.

Coffee or Tea? Mostly coffee, there's less action/decision-making involved. But I like tea also. Some of my favorites are licorice, anything with cinnamon, and also savory toasted grain teas.

1st thing you wanted to be when grew up? I wanted to be a screenwriter. I liked movies and my dad is a writer, and it just seemed obvious. But I never learned anything about the discipline of it or the professional trajectory. And I was really poisoned by the whole "you can be anything you want!" idea, I feel terrible for saying that when so many people get zero support or faith from adults in childhood, but it's true. I heard and believed that blanket statement, but I didn't have the clarity or mental toughness to specialize and understand the meaning and implications of having a goal. It was just like, oh I could be a writer, or I could be an artist, or I could be in the movies, or blah blah blah I guess one of these things will just land on my head some day. I had no fucking clue, I still don't. It's hopeless! But you wanna know what's really weird, when I was little I also had this strange fixation on being in the army--but I had zero fantasies about combat or anything exciting, it was entirely this idea about being really good at boot camp, being able to endure any form of punishment. And I had a similar concept about JAIL, I remember reading this children's photo book that explained all about prison, and I think it was just this whole fantasy about having intensely disciplined obedience and being able to endure anything! I still think I'm going to jail some day but it's just because I feel so guilty about everything. Obviously the main conclusion to be drawn from this is that I am a natural born pervert.

tagging @hechiceria @sleepsafe @columbosunday @clarabeau @barnsburntdownnow @punisheddonjuan

[826aliensapocalypseactivism]

Body Parts

Kareinma H. 

TSZSZSZ {the sound of a welder in use}

“Please, pass me the drill gun,” said a colleague.

My head hurts. A lot of things don’t make sense. I work in a factory where we use prototypes & body transfers in order to keep our people alive. What I just described is my colleague personalizing someone's leg. It’s the most common thing for people to get replaced. The operation room smells like burnt metal, bleach & is cold for temperature control. If we were meant to live forever, why does it take all of this to do so? What’s bad about dying? I mean of course no one wants to die, but I’d rather die than live my life with my body circulating off metal engines that are probably breaking down my cells faster than age & oxygen. They aren’t guaranteed to keep you alive anyways. Of course they don’t tell us these things. I've kinda come up with this theorem on my own. 

“Do you ever plan on moving somewhere else?” I asked one of my colleagues.

“Yes actually, they’ve got some nice houses on maple drive,” she said.

“No, I mean away from here,” I said.

“You mean like another state?”

“Something like that.”

I have my {personal} beliefs that give me a different perspective of the people & things going on around me. Weird, I could be wrong though but like all people I supposed I have my own thought process & opinions. I'm not saying I want people to die but what good are they if they're machines, I know for a fact body parts don’t populate unless two people… you know, & then that creature grows into an older mixed version of them. That way if something were to happen to them then their working body parts could be used to save other people. What sense does it make that we aren't allowed to die? What would they do if we did? Bring us back to life with a battery? With the way things are going, that might work in the future. I only work here so I can make enough money to survive. I would just off myself & leave my corpse to the government, that is if I didn’t believe there was a happier life for me. Either way it goes they can try as hard as they want to, they may extend a person's life span but they can’t stop them from dying. & with that being said, I want to run away somewhere I can live more happily & freely. Who cares when I die? I rather die when I’m meant to than suffer trying to stay alive, a natural death of course. 

3 Years Later

So apparently I haven’t left nor have I died. My leg has been amputated & switched out for a robotic one, a tragic accident. Some dumbass thought it was funny to advertise a sightseeing pool where you swim to the bottom & there was supposed to be a piranha tank under during the summer & my dumbass jumped in, they were there all right. Whatever. The leg is kind of cool, I guess. Apparently scientists have modeled a device that transfers all your memories that way your head can be modified & transferred, by then… you're probably a robot. Are you technically alive if you’re a robot? I’m unsure if that would even work. Maybe I would if my parents had never abandoned me. I’d probably understand a lot more about life. I want to run away, but where would I go? One of my friends did, where did he go? I wonder if he is alright, If he is alive. There has to be someplace where you’re allowed to die. To be clear, I’m not looking for a place to go die, I’m looking for a place where it’s not so obvious your soul purpose is to live. It’s so depressing, creating & fighting knowing it’s to live. I’ll leave in two days time. That's when our delivery truck comes. This truck provided food to our stores & products for scientists & hospitals.

2 days later

Today’s the day. I’m ready, I have everything I think I need. Stored goods that should last about a month, water, extra clothes, a celly, & a plan. It’s around 5 p.m. when the delivery truck gets ready to leave. I jump in the back of the truck. My heart is pounding so fast, I'm so scared. I hear thumping? Gunshots? What's going on? What should I do?

[myclownjunction]

Cooking time with a dime! Karl Heisenberg x Reader Imagine

Cooking withWHO?! Karl Heisenberg...oh boy I'm about to break your dream state of man that cooks the perfect breakfast for you

* Don't forget before you came into his life this man is a living mess, like any man is, cooking for him means eating canned food, it fast, it's cheap and it takes lots of his sacral time

*Once you start cooking for him, he'll adore you, he'll be running for another fill to you like a puppy with its bowl giving you this puppy look, who could stand it

*He loves seeing you wrapped into an apron, it makes things to him, it wakes up another type of hunger that makes him smile and enjoy the look juuust a bit longer

*He loves trying new dishes but my loves MAKE HIM MEAT DISHES HE'LL WORSHIP YOU!He just really loves meat the werewolf magneto boy, he would eat the poor plate with the food on it so delicious it is

*One day you'll wake up to the smell of burnt things and then you'll wake up startled that there's a fire in the factory...NOPE, it's Karl trying to cook the breakfast, and guess what that poor pan was literally on fire. Karl swearing, the kitchen in havoc as there was flour everywhere and few broken eggs here and there as he turned around smiling sheepily at you as you can't hold the laughter within you, he reminded you of a child.

*"Karl Heisenberg, how did you get that pancake in the ceiling!"you absolutely lost it as he grins and says"Well doll I guess the gravity works the other way today!"you laugh together as you help him fix some breakfast and talk about this rather cute accident

*After this you'll teach Karl how to cook, and damn he'll be so attentive that the pen that floats and the notebook writes every single word that leaves your mouth

* At the beginning when you came into the kitchen there was a frying pan stuck into the wall for a reason, after giving him the questioning look you said" Is it UFP?"he looked rather confused and tilted his head to the side"Cooperate doll?"you laughed"Unidentified Flying PANcake"there was a silence and then howls of laughter filled the room"Ohh...haha, Doll....that was the best!"he said through laughter, you both decided to leave it as an art object

*Eventually he learns how to cook, make other meals, of course, thanks to you and your nerves, and a couple of ded pans, destroyed and wrecked kitchen, he's so proud to make something for you

*He loves your baking and the sweets and believe me when I'm telling you Karl Heisenberg is a sweet tooth, he likes sneaking in and steal a couple of cookies and you let him because of all the stress he's under

* One morning he sees himself in the mirror after the shower that he has a chub growing on his belly"Damn, got to train I guess. Well you gain some you lose some!"he chuckled as your hands came from behind hugging him and kissing his back"I love you any way you look Karl Heisenberg and not even a chub can change that!"he chuckles at your sweetness"You know love there's other sweet cake that I haven't tried yet"he smiles deviously before snatching you to your shared room to have a better taste

*He'll love to see some sexy surprises from you like, seeing you making food only in an apron, as you gotta pick something you"forgot" from the refrigerator as you bent and hear a rather loud moan, expect him to taste the dessert before the main dish and whoo boy this dessert is you ;)

*When it comes to hunting ohhh Karl loves it, he loves hunting and bringing something back as he always cleans the animal from its skin and stuff, once you told him you're not a princess and ohh, believe me, he was in awe, something by which you get done with the meat stirs something primal within him

*You love making stuff for him and he'll make for you, remember the hunting part, yeah expect handmade fur coats as the winter is close he'll make you as much as he can because, his sweet angel deserves it

*He still will munch on cans but this time you'll join him talking about some interesting topic just to keep the mood in a good way, he's grateful to have you because having food with someone and not alone it's hella different for him and he loves every bit of it

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Season 2 Summary (Volume 2: Ch 2 - 5)

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers from S2 🍒

Along with the update on 3 June 2021, the CN server released a “Plot Review” which contains bullet-point summaries of S2 :>

Volume 1 Summary: here

Your company is suspected of distributing prohibited “Small Syringes”. While being questioned by reporters, Gavin handcuffs you, and you cooperate

“I’ll escort her myself.”

In the STF interrogation room, you don’t flinch despite repeated questioning, because you’re very clear about what you have to do. When Gavin comes to the interrogation room, he is very straightforward and asks what you wish to talk to him about

[Extra tidbit from Cheri] The person who interrogates MC at first is Tang Chao, whose Evol enables him to detect lies. Afterwards, he gets scolded by Gavin because he wasn’t supposed to be there LOL

It turns out that he already guessed that you were the one who lodged the report. This way, you could talk to Gavin in an absolutely safe location, and also lure the actual middleman involved in the distribution of the drugs

He never doubted your innocence

Gavin plans to use this opportunity to purge the STF of traitors. Through the surveillance cameras of STF, you watch as Gavin organises all sorts of work in a systematic manner. In his spare time, he pays close attention to you

After investigating them one by one, Gavin finally lock onto one particular STF agent

While an STF agent is sending you out, you feel that the situation is odd. Just as you formulate your conclusion, you hear Gavin’s urgent voice

“Get away from that person!”

Gavin fires a shot, and the bullet whizzes towards you

“That person is F-45!”

F-45, the traitor, has an ability to swap objects. He has a companion. Not only did he swap positions with his companion, but he also swapped positions with a STF badge. He has been lying low, waiting for an opportunity to take action. Now, he swaps positions with you, leaving you to die

At imminent peril, Gavin expedites his Evol to stop that bullet, then uses this chance to strike down F-45, who attempts a sneak attack. The identity of the other traitor is also confirmed - he’s a member bearing the serial number U-2. His ability is using sound to create explosions

U-2 uses his Evol to create a series of explosions. You and Gavin are left deep in the scene of the fire

Knowing full well that fire has a significant meaning to Gavin, you can’t help but feel very worried. But Gavin is far stronger than you think. Because of himself, and because of you, Gavin doesn’t retreat in the large fire, and finally subdues U-2, handcuffing him. Unexpectedly, U-2 uses his own body to create an even greater explosion!

You and Gavin eventually obtain a narrow victory, while the two traitors die in the sea of fire

From F-45′s final memories, you discover that they chose to serve an anti-Evol criminal organisation called Gray Rhino. It seems that there are more complexities and darkness hidden behind this incident

Gavin is sent to the hospital, and your company is formally cleared of all suspicion regarding the distribution of prohibited drugs. More importantly, you and Gavin have reunited again

In your heart, you're certain that even though the both of you are in different camps, you have mutual trust in each other, walking shoulder to shoulder on an even more rugged path, heading towards a future which won’t be destroyed

Your subordinate from Black Swan tells you that the STF has found the production factory for the “Small Syringes”. They seize the opportunity to shift ten boxes away in secret, and you tell them to analyse it as soon as possible

At the same time, you decide to produce a show related to Evol after a series of discussions in the community spring up after what happened with the company before. This way, more people can pay close attention to and ponder over Evol

Lucien accepts an interview on the show

Just as you recall how he had once said similar words, you sense that there’s something strange about a mother berating her son along the roadside. Under the mother’s continuous provocation, the boy’s Evol is stimulated and goes completely out of control. The gravity in the surroundings changes

You notice that this child was once given a dose of the “Small Syringes” by his mother

Being rolled into the area where gravity is in chaos, Lucien protects you with a white protective screen. With your assistance, Lucien replicates the boy’s gravity Evol, averting a disaster

Worried about this mother-son duo, you inquire about what will happen to them in the future. Lucien doesn’t give you a direct answer. Instead, he asks you a question - would you choose to pursue this matter or stay far away?

“In that case, continue searching. I look forward to your answer.”

You can see a glint of admiration in Lucien’s eyes

Afterwards, in order to make it easier for you to rest, he takes you to a desolate train station. Perhaps you didn’t realise it, but the two of you have already entered a strange space

The two of you board the train. While conversing with Lucien, you verify the importance of CORE, and also make clear that whether or not there is Evol, the world will continue to advance, and will continue to progress

You fall asleep on the train. When you wake up, what meets your vision is a wheat field with heavy snowfall

You once again hear the conversation you shared with Lucien when you were a child, but you hear an overlapping echo. Lucien explains that the dreamworld seems to be a suppressed memory

The two of you open a door. You see that the world is divided and upside down

Lucien says that this world hasn’t been divided, but “folded” - things that appeared to be going backwards are perhaps undergoing another form of advancement

In the dreamworld, the way you’ve pushed yourself over the years and the negative emotions surge forth. Fortunately, Lucien creates a tiny safety zone for you

“You can walk slowly. Knowing that you’re always walking is enough.”

Even though it’s a dreamworld, Lucien also tells you that the future you want will definitely exist

As Lucien leaves the dreamworld, he once again confirms the sense of misalignment that he had sensed

He vaguely senses that he has tossed aside a very long past, and decides to begin research on this world

At this moment, he notices an invitation card in his drawer

“You’ve worked hard.”

Away from the shoal, in the depths of a boundless ocean, Lucien continually sinks, gradually closing his eyes

You send a report containing the components of “Small Syringes” to Victor. However, he doesn’t check his e-mail as quickly as he usually does

While you’re feeling puzzled, you receive shocking news -

The CEO of LFG has met with a car accident

You immediately rush to his ward. Fortunately, he isn’t in a serious condition

For his safety, you arrange for a bodyguard to protect him in the hospital, but Victor flatly rejects this

“Since you’re this worried, stay behind personally.”

As such, you stay in the ward next door, keeping watch on Victor

In the ward, you hand over the results of your investigation to Victor. The analysis shows that there are extremely small traces of CORE in the “Small Syringes”. Gray Rhino, which allowed the drugs to be distributed, has always been against Evol. Perhaps they intend to use the drugs to harm people who wish to obtain Evol. You can’t help but wonder how that person with inky ash eyes is related to everything

Late at night, you spot Victor along the corridor as he observes the city lights. He tells you that he’s looking for someone. Meeting his meaningful gaze, you recall the promise you once made to “find the him from the past”. During this conversation, he also tells you that joining BS was meant for a greater benefit, and to see how far one can go with an Evol ability

You receive news that the driver who caused the accident has regained consciousness, and you plunge into his memories. You discover that because he became bankrupt after a lawsuit with LFG, he participated in the Hunter Game

While attempting to escape the game, he witnessed his camaraderies getting killed in the process. Just as you wonder if he attacked Victor because he had no other choice, a shadow slips into his ward, and he doesn’t have good intentions

You give Victor an urgent signal while attempting to flee

At this dangerous moment, you receive a message from the “past” -

“Why are you in a daze? Run!”

You take action, following Victor’s commands in your mind as you dodge

The person is stalled in the lift, and you fall into Victor’s arms. He pulls you to hide in a nearby room, and you manage to escape

When you had sent the warning earlier, Victor also received a message from the “past”, which enabled him find you

After Victor is discharged, the two of you conjecture that the Hunter Game could have been designed to target Evolvers. The reason why people were silenced after trying to escape could perhaps be due to the mastermind wanting to hide something

After you leave, Victor receives a corgi plush that you sent. He senses that when it comes to things related to you, he will inexplicably become a little more amiable

There are many problems to resolve, and all these conflicts point towards one source: the Black Swan CORE. He decides to personally take part in the Hunter Game as an individual participating in matched betting

On a certain day, the helicopter lands on the roof of LFG. Like always, Victor clarifies information pertaining to work with his employees

“The remaining approvals for today are to be left with Goldman for now. I’ll make time to have a look.”

At a certian location, a sniper rifle takes aim at him. In the next second, the trigger is pulled

You receive an invitation to the Hunter Game. At this moment, Kiro gives you a call to ask if you’ve seen anything strange. You mention the Hunter Game

Kiro’s voice turns disjointed. A man with inky ash eyes suddenly appears. Your mind grows hazy. Just before you completely lose consciousness, you see the symbol of a stone tablet, which has thistles and thorns on it

When you reawaken, you discover that you’ve been roped into the Hunter Game

You do your best to defeat a player who is attacking you. Unfortunately, you meet another person who is better skilled than you. Just as you’re suppressed and losing all hope, you hear a familiar voice. The person in front of you is Kiro

After dealing with the player, he pastes a microchip on the metal necklace you’re wearing. This way, your movements won’t be tracked. He also guides you to a hole of a tree which is concealed very well

In this insane game, you can finally rest for a while

“In this game, the only way to accumulate points is to attack others.”

You look at him, telling him resolutely that the two of you must leave this place safely

Just as you wonder how Kiro managed to enter the arena, the metal necklace gives out a reminder: it’s time for tools to be circulated

The two of you witness as a player is killed while fighting for tools. From this, you discover that players can temporarily strengthen their own Evol by injecting themselves with drugs provided by the game

Through an analysis, the two of you conjecture that the mastermind is also searching for CORE

At this moment, the game announces a mission - you have turned into the target of every single player

Fortunately, due to the tacit understanding you share with Kiro, your coordination enables the both of you to shake off numerous players. Afterwards, the two of you accidentally discover a strange building. Closely compacted infrared rays surround the building, which might result in gunfire. Withstanding the stress, Kiro opens his mini laptop and resolves the crisis before him

“This is the magic of a superhero!”

After saying this, he pulls you into a run towards the forest. The sudden explosions leave you two falling next to a precipice

Kiro grips your wrist tightly. Noticing that he’s straining himself, you think of asking him to let go. Seeming to see through your intentions, he tells you not to give up, and that he has already made arrangements

You choose to believe him

Just as what Kiro says, someone pulls the two of you up the cliff just before Kiro completely exhausts his energy

Kiro finds a way to remove the metal necklace. He looks at you with a gentle gaze, but you feel that something’s wrong-

“Now, have a good sleep. When you wake up, don’t mention this game to anyone. Then... forgive me.”

His Evol puts you into a deep sleep

He removes your silver necklace, puts it on his own neck, then leaves by himself

When you wake up, you find yourself in an underground passage. Just as you think of finding the exit as quickly as possible, you hear Shaw’s voice from the other side of the wall

You attempt to call out to him, but receive no response. Thinking it was just a misperception, you accelerate your footsteps, continuing to search for the exit

On the other side, Shaw has been trying to call you. Because your phone is turned off, and his phone is out of battery, he’s unable to contact you

[Extra tidbit from Cheri] He also attempts to charge his phone with his Evol but fails LOL

He pinches a photograph of a stone tablet. A symbol “8″ is engraved on the stone tablet which is surrounded by thistles and thorns

At this point, you, who were innocently roped into the Hunter Game, arrive at the exit and meet Shaw

“I didn’t expect you to be the one here.”

Shaw sits on the railway tracks as he looks at you, an icy smile on his lips

You pause where you are, testing the waters and asking him what he’s doing here

His tone brims with disdain and alienation. Even though you don't understand what he’s saying, you can sense a certain danger, and there seems to be a misunderstanding between the two of you

In the next moment, accompanied by the roar of a train’s whistle, the sound of thunder completely fills the horizon

Volume 3 (Ch 6 - 9): here

More S2 content: here

A detailed translation of Gavin’s part is available here!

[fukurodaze]

dump shot

pairing: third year!shirabu kenjirou x first year manager!reader (female) genre/s: PURE FLUFF, meet cute type beat! word count: 2.9k taken from this request by anonymous <3: “Shirabu x Manager! reader where reader is Karasuno's manager and she's seen pining over him and later the two end up in an accident outside the gym (before or after the games) where they find themselves locked somewhere”

for reference, this is set when hinata and the first years are in their second year, so ennoshita is karasuno’s captain. shirabu’s also the captain of the shiratorizawa vbc!

lowercase intended!

when shirabu kenjirou throws a dump shot, he is the coolest person in the room. it’s two words that come out of your mouth, groans of frustration coming from your team, and a faint smirk on the almond haired boy. 

“so cool...” you mutter under your breath, watching the practice match between your team and shiratorizawa at their gym. you get goosebumps.

it’s not your first time seeing the third year. you had watched shiratorizawa’s match with karasuno in the prefectural spring high finals, and though your eyes were glued onto the then first-year setter, kageyama, you would, at times, find your eyes stopping at the magenta number 10 jersey. you would later find out his name was shirabu kenjirou, and that you would come to develop an almost baseless crush on him, hopeless at best.

another rally starts, this time with shiratorizawa on match point, an already dragged out 32-31 on the scoreboard. it’s the third set on a friday night, yet the match is already scraping past seven pm and you don’t know if your body can take any more of the anticipation. 

and when the magenta jerseys spike a mean straight shot, your hands ball up with whitened knuckles at the bitter taste of a lost game. you run up to the boys with yachi, handing them drinks and towels, telling the second years “you did well” and the third years “that was a good one.” you glance at the first years, some of your friends, and give them a soft smile, as if telling them that you’re going to have to get used to this feeling, because it will happen. lots.

but loss is as temporary as victory when you see the boys mingle with each other, friendliness growing as the new first years dissolve tensions between teams. you even see kageyama bump into hinata and goshiki’s conversation, the sight of it new and endearing. 

yachi taps you on the shoulder, “i’m going to be picking up the bibs, can you collect the balls and put them in storage?”

shiratorizawa’s storage room looks more like a shed. it’s also much further than you think, and even darker than you knew storage rooms to be. it looks like an entire sports supply factory outlet rather than a high school unit. 

the large basket of volleyballs rolls weirdly on its wheels, knocking left and right as you try to drive it through the doorway. it makes a bit of a fussy sound when you bump into the basket of footballs, and as the footballs begin to fall out of their containers, you close the door in an attempt to keep them inside. 

"here they are,” you hear from the corner of the room, behind shelves upon shelves of equipment. your body freezes up dramatically, as if dreading the awkward interaction with the unknown person. hurriedly, you pick up the scattered soccer balls, attempting to take up to five at once to no avail, only causing more sounds of balls hitting wooden floors. 

“hello?”

you hesitate to answer. you only continue to put back all the footballs in their place and park the basket of volleyballs in some random corner of the shed before reaching for the door, only to find it doesn’t budge.

“aren’t you karasuno’s manager?”

you turn around to find the one person you wouldn’t want to see you like this. like every high school cliché, shirabu kenjirou is standing right behind you when you turn back, a pair of training shoes hanging off of his left hand. you nod and bow slightly, unsure what to do.

“i, uh, wanted to put the balls back here.”

“but why are you here in the shed?” his voice is softer, you notice, probably because he realises he’s talking to a girl, but his words remind you of how he’d talk to his team during the match.

“i just wanted to help clean up and stuff, like, uh, a token... of appreciation for this practice match?” god, your palms sure are getting sweaty. 

“this shed isn’t the place we put our frequently used equipment. we usually put our volleyballs in the room in the gym. it’s the one with the double doors. how come you came so far here?”

you shrug slowly, feeling nice and stupid for not noticing the actual storage room’s large double doors and instead wandering off to carry a basket of volleyballs past three other gyms and a few questioning looks from the shiratorizawa basketball team to this single-doored, large building. 

“i’ll just bring them back to the gym now-” you come back to the basket of volleyballs you had just left against a random wall as shirabu pushes on the door’s nonexistent handle. you think it’s all about to end until a muttered curse falls out of the third year’s lips. you look to him in confusion.

then he curses again, this time stopping himself midway as your gaze meets his, voice getting softer again. “did you close the door?”

“yes...?” 

“it’s not supposed to be closed,” shirabu sighs, “there’s a little metal rod that falls into a hole in the ground on the other side, and it falls in pretty easily if we close the door, so we can’t really get out right now.”

oh shit.

“i’ll just call- oh my god, i forgot my phone.” your tone is fast and apologetic, considering you had closed the door in the first place. “i’m sorry-”

“don’t be, you didn’t know before.” shirabu sits on a pile of thick and colourful gym mats, elbows on knees. the shoes he was holding are now behind him. “this school might be big, but it’s also damn old.”

shirabu has no idea what situation he’s in right now. frankly, he’s kind of panicking. but he tells himself not to panic, especially when karasuno’s new manager is right there (and she’s pretty cute, not gonna lie - is she a second year?). shirabu would probably be shouting and pushing the door by now until his voice ran hoarse, but surely, there is no use for that. 

“so, uh, how are we going to get out?” you shove your hands into your tracksuit jacket, stepping in front of the boy. you’re guessing it’s going to be a bit before you two can get out, so you might as well try to talk to him without a three meter gap in between him and you.

shirabu shrugs, and a look at you tells you that you can sit next to him on the pile of gym mats. “i think we’re just going to have to hope someone notices we’re gone.”

“i think they have to,” you chuckle, “you’re captain. would be kinda crazy if they didn’t notice you were gone.”

the conversation dissolves into awkward silence as the stranger you once pined over is literally right next to you, dried sweat and all, a light laugh leaving his lips.

“what’s your name?” the question is simple, obligatory, even, for introductions, but you swear you feel your heart skip a beat.

“l/n f/n,” you reply, and he says his name in return. you want to say you know, as you’ve already referred to him as captain of the volleyball club, but you settle with silence and a smile. he seems to like it.

“you’re karasuno’s manager, right?” 

“yeah. i’m a first year, but i have a brother in karasuno.”

“oh really? is he in the volleyball team?”

you shake your head, “no. he’s in the basketball team, actually, but he’s friends with some of the third years in the team. he’s the reason i got dragged to the spring high prefectural finals last year, actually.”

you hold your hands together, clasping them to evaporate your nervousness. shit, this is shirabu kenjirou you’re talking to, don’t mess it up!

shirabu leans back on his arms, looking up in reminiscence. he sighs, “spring high, huh? you probably saw my tosses back then.”

you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face, the excitement of getting to talk to the third year getting to you, “i remember you from that game the most.”

“damn, then you’d probably also remember how my toss was bad enough for even ushijima-san to get blocked-”

“i think you were really cool, actually.”

shirabu stops in his vocal tracks. there’s no way she means that, he thinks.

“you’re just saying that.”

“well, of course i’m saying it. you wouldn’t hear it otherwise.” your feet kick themselves against the soft pile of gym mats, “but trust me, coming from a karasuno student, you were really cool. your entire team was, too, but, you know.”

at this point, you think you’re just embarrassing yourself. what if he thinks you’re some kind of weird fan? a naive first year? some wannabe manager who didn’t quite understand volleyball to its core? it seems like the conversation loves to come back to silence, and you don’t know how to break the ice.

“thanks,” shirabu mentions, tone higher, as he stands up and off of the gym mats. you feel a weight lift beside you, and in your floor-focused eyes, you see his shoes walk to the basket of volleyballs. 

shirabu bounces the ball once, and then once again, before you see his shoes in front of yours. you look up. 

“we have time. wanna toss?”

“i’m not that good at overhead passes...” you resist, knowing all too well from pe classes that your fingers don’t have the same kind of magic shirabu’s or kageyama’s have - or anyone in the men’s volleyball club, really.

shirabu only shrugs, “it’s fine, y/n-san. it’s just me. i don’t think you can even be that bad anyways.”

okay, maybe hearing him say your name was enough to persuade you. but still, the possibility of losing your pride in front of shirabu keeps you glued onto the gym mats. 

you purse your lips, trying to hide the overwhelming grin spreading on your face. you try to say a word, but you can’t seem to make anything out when teeth and raised cheeks do nothing but make you feel like this hopeless crush isn’t so hopeless after all. and so you nod.

he stands a few feet away from you, tossing the ball at what seemed like the perfect angle for your height only for you to miss it every two good tries.

“see? you’re not bad.” you think he’s lying through his teeth at best.

“i drop, like, every toss you give. this is not not bad.” you slouch, catching the ball this time instead of attempting to toss it. 

“well, that’s because you’re just doing it wrong. you hit the ball with the top of your palm every time. of course it’s going to come flying down.”

“okay, captain of the shiratorizawa volleyball club...” you tease, and you think it’s all fun and games until he comes to stand right in front of you, taking the ball. 

“put your hands up.”

you do as he asks.

“they should be about this far from your head,” he puts down the ball to adjust your arms, and then your hands, “it’s supposed to feel like there’s a nice place for the ball to rest in your hands.”

his hands are cold and rough when they lightly press on yours, shaping your hands and your elbows the way he does it on court, “your elbows and hands should make a triangle.”

he lets go of your arms, and you keep your arms the way he left them. he tosses the ball to you, and the only thing you feel is the sturdy feeling of fingertips on fabric.

shirabu catches the ball when you toss it back, “see? not bad.”

he doesn’t miss it when your eyes light up at his praise, and he makes a mental note to himself to not get distracted next time shiratorizawa has a game with karasuno. or maybe he will; who knows - maybe seeing you might make him look at his job with more vigour and passion.

“how do you do it?” you stare, “i mean, not that i haven’t seen, but-”

your words are cut off when he sets the ball onto the wall and back in one quick motion, his hands like cradling the ball with care on every push and touch. maybe it isn’t backed by an ace spiker or a team of five, but there’s a quiet power in what he does.

volleyball might be a team sport, but you’ve only been focused on this one setter all afternoon. even worse, he’s from the opposite team. 

he holds the ball and bounces it as he looks back at you, “when i got into shiratorizawa, you have no idea how much time i spent doing this.”

he exhales, like a weight has been pulled off his chest, feeling quite nice at your visible reactions. he throws the ball at you, exclaiming “toss!” only for you to catch it square above your head. you whine. then he laughs, and you laugh too, because you've never seen him laugh. 

“it paid off, then,” you say, coming to sit back down on the pile of mattresses. he sits next to you again, but closer this time. it’s like your stomach performs a somersault, and you absolutely love it.

"i guess,” he mutters, “maybe next time i’ll show you the dump shot you seemed to like so much.”

you can only bury your face in your hands, remembering the way you exclaimed ‘so cool...’ at his actions about an hour ago. you mumble, “was i too loud?”

he laughs again. you like the sound of it. “no, it was good.”

“it was nice to know one of karasuno’s managers looked at me more than kageyama,” his tone is stagnant, but you can hear him grinning, “that wouldn’t be considered betrayal, would it?”

you take it upon yourself to look him in the eye, and you tell him, with a small voice, “maybe it’s just something about you.”

you hide your face in your hands again, and you hear the setter laugh once more. you wonder if he laughs this much with his teammates. 

just as your embarrassment starts to settle, there’s a knock on the wooden door, “y/n? are you here?”

you recognise it as the second year, yamaguchi’s, voice, and you call back out, “yeah?”

“alright, wait up, i’ll just unlock the door...” his voice turns from muffled to surprise after the door opens, seeing you sitting so close to none other than shiratorizawa’s setter.

“i’m so sorry it took this long for us to realise you were, uh, gone,” yamaguchi scratches the back of his head, “but at least you had some company.”

yamaguchi gives the setter a prompt bow, and shirabu does the same.

“anyways, y/n, the bus is waiting,” the boy motions, and you nod, looking at shirabu. 

you wave at shirabu and start to leave the shed when he grips the sleeve of your tracksuit jacket. 

“are you free on sunday?”

you stop in your tracks, “yeah, i am.”

“i can show you my dump shot then. and there’s also a cute café nearby campus, i heard, so, we can go there after?”

you swear your heart melts at his words, “that sounds good.”

you can feel yamaguchi’s curious stare at both of you, but you don’t mind. “i’ll give you my number, then?”

you search through your pockets for something to take note with, “i don’t have a pen and paper... or my phone...”

shirabu sighs, “me neither, uhm...”

“oh, well. just tell me your number and i’ll memorise it.”

“are you sure?”

“yeah,” you smile, knowing that you’re not that good at memorising things but you know you’d keep his number dialed in your head. as he says out his string of numbers, you make sure to remember it all by the time you get to your bag. 

“see you sunday, then.” he waves once more.

“i’ll text you!” you’re left to ponder what the hell you’re going to wear in two days to your date with shirabu kenjirou. 

first date with shirabu kenjirou. is it a date? maybe you’ll know it on sunday. 

when you step out of the shed, yamaguchi only grins as he walks you back to the bus, amused at witnessing one of his underclassmen set up a date with shiratorizawa’s third year setter and captain. 

“on monday, tell us some of shiratorizawa’s secrets,” yamaguchi jokes as you two walk across campus. you glare at your upperclassman, and he only follows it up with a shake of the head and “no, no, just kidding! just have fun on sunday.”

“thank you,” you say quietly as you two approach the bus, “and thank you for unlocking that door at the shed back there.”

“no problem,” yamaguchi replies.

after announcing a small apology to the rest of the team when you enter the bus, you almost run to yachi when she shouts from the back that she’s already got your bag, with you practically grabbing it to take out your phone.

“woah, y/n! are you alright? do you have your stuff?”

you don’t answer, only putting down the numbers you drilled into your head five minutes ago, naming the contact “dump shot” and sending him a quick hello in text.

yachi asks again, “y/n?”

now you snap out of it, and nod before thanking her for bringing your bag. you can’t stop the uncontrollable smile on your face.

yachi stretches her arms out and smiles back, glad that her underclassman seems enthusiastic about this volleyball thing too. “i’m so ready for the weekend. i’m just going to sleep in and rest all day.”

you nod, slouching lazily into the bus yet with unknown excitement in your veins at the thought of spending a day with the boy you’ve only ever seen from afar until tonight. 

“i’m so ready for this weekend too.”

[wixelt]

Season β AU #002 - Welcome to β

So when we last left off on the Season β AU, the Hermits had been kidnapped by shadow doubles of themselves & dropped into an unknowable reality made up of an infinite blue jungle under an empty, Void-like sky. So, what’s next from there in the weird dream I had?

Well, from here, things get a little less ordered, but i’ll set it up as best I can.

- All the Hermits wake alone, with no-one else nearby, something i’m certain my unawake mind drew from @hermitcraftheadcanons’ Scattered AU (check it out if you haven’t, it’s great). I can tell from this that my dream originally intended this to be an alt version of Season 7 - though it isn’t now - as one of the “arriving alone” bits was Scar turning up in the jungle, as he does at the start of S7 (was in full wizard gear in my dream, to boot :P ). I want to play with the most recent info on S7, though, so post-S7 it is instead.

- There’s a few things various Hermits find odd or outright alarming beyond just what they can see after doing the normal “player” thing of crafting some basic tools to survive to take their mind off the panic. X discovers his admin powers are completely gone. They’re not even inaccessible, they’re just... not there. Anyone else who has command access notices this quite quickly too, & nobody misses the complete lack of access to communications.

- And all of the Hermits, beyond this, find that mining & crafting is broken somehow. Mumbo swings his fist to punch a tree, & cries out in pain, the wood far harder than even his practiced hands were ready for. It’s nothing more than a sting, & he’s fine once he’s gotten used to it, but it came as a shock, & rather than getting a log block for his troubles, he watches the section of tree, on his final punch, explode into a million useless splinters of wood, only a few large enough to put in his inventory. After a while, the Hermits begin to find that, with enough of these fragments, they can build a rudimentary sword (False manages this faster than most others), or a pick, or some planks, but it makes everything far more of a slog, as if the world is fundamentally dragging them down.

- In the months to follow - in the part of this that reminds me of Sky Factory - they will find that stone has the same problem, but worse. Stone drops... nothing. Absolutely nothing. Same with anything else underground, which would be bad for ore mining... if there were any ores to mine. Instead, through much trial & error, the Hermits find that crafting enough layers, combinations & types of wood & dirt together (in my dream I saw someone crafting thousands of Rubies together to get something - so I guess Rubies also exist here) - like those mods that have compressed blocks - gets you stone, & magnitudes more effort beyond that to get iron, gold, redstone, etc. Magnitudes further still to get even a single, tiny fragment of diamond, & then there’s netherite, & the other top tier, heavy duty materials & tools Minecraft has.

- By a year into this hell, the Hermits collectively have maybe enough diamond for less than half a set of armor between them, & no netherite to speak of. It hasn’t exactly been their main focus, though.

- With that initial panic out of the way, maybe it’s time to introduce you to where the Hermits are. This is Season β. That isn’t it’s actual name, if it even has one, but as far as the Hermits’ season system works, it’ll suit it well enough. It’s a sort of underlying junk/echo reality (in the part of the dream that was probably drawn from the Backrooms creepy-pasta) that runs beneath the entire Minecraft multiverse. All the echoes of worlds, all the little bits of lost history or forgotten places that never should have been or that simply slipped through the cracks... this is what β is. The place where all these various never weres have coalesced into an infinite, broken place where the usual rules of the Minecraft realms don’t consistently apply... and the Hermits are stuck here.

- β isn’t entirely this infinite, headache inducing blue jungle. This is just one layer of the dark infinity. There’s at least 11 layers, though I imagine there’s actually infinite or functionally infinite amounts. In my dream, I remember there was mentioned a 6th Layer, a 10th Layer, and I think an 11th Layer. I recall that one layer, I think the 10th Layer, was gradually “eating” away at another layer despite them being supposedly infinite, probably the 11th, in my dream, so in order to have the Hermits not immediately have to deal with that metaphysical clusterfrick, i’m stating now that the “Jungle” is the 6th Layer. How the Hermits are meant to get from layer to layer, or if they’d even want to, is undetermined.

- This endless hell is, well, just that: hell. And nothing shows that more than when a Hermit dies for the first time. It’s False who’s the unfortunate one. Being one of the most resourceful of the group, she manages to craft a stone sword within the first few weeks, sets up some basic shelter, & even manages to reunite with a couple of the other Hermits after days of trekking for miles & miles at a time, herself Ren & Stress managing to build a perimeter to keep out the mobs, which have thankfully been both keeping to their normal behaviors despite a few anomalies & been spawning in lesser numbers due to the jungle biome & copious amounts of leaves.

- So when a creeper unfortunately gets the drop of her in the midst of an unexpected mob horde - glowing with red lightning, of all things - and all the Hermits see her death message, it comes as a shock. Thankfully, she had a bed, so she dashes back to where Ren & Stress are waiting... & blinks in surprise as their eyes widen in shock & horror. Unnerved, False catches her reflection in a nearby pool of water... & flinches in fear as she sees the empty socket where her right eye used to be, as if it simply vanished. She can still mostly see fine, somehow, but her right eye’s “vision” is strange and hazy, with occasional flickering, & she swears she keeps seeing something moving in the corner of her eye, despite Ren & Stress assuring her there’s nothing there. And that’s not even getting into the strange, single black tally line that she later finds has appeared on her left shoulder like some sort of tattoo...

- This, unfortunately, isn’t the extent or even the specific outcome that awaits someone each time they die. It has the potential to get quite... odd. False got off quite lightly the first time losing an “eye”, all things considered.

- It is over a year before Grian - who was left behind from the party due to illness - sees any of his friends again. Through a means I haven’t yet decided on, he finds some manner of reaching β, albeit one-way & by accident, while searching for everyone with assistance from others. What he finds, though still his friends & relieved to see him, isn’t as pristine as he remembers. Time in β has not been kind.

- And I've decided it is Grian who gets left behind, rather than Jevin. I had this thought that maybe my dream “labelled” it as Grian but meant Jevin because in one part of the dream Grian appears “slimy” & face paint seems to melt right off him due to that (was an odd moment even with context). But given what β can do to people, apparently, i’m willing to lock the one left behind in as Grian.

Cutting it off again. Still a few things I haven’t gotten into, I think, but this is already a long post. :P

[gingerale2017]

𝟛| ℂ𝕒𝕘𝕖

One year before the present day

Scarlet never thought that she would be noticed. Her whole life, she'd been invisible, but she always pushed to get attention. At first, it was to gain attention from her no-good father, who cared more about his drinks and women than his daughter. So she ran away to her grandmother's house. And that was when she lived in France. They moved here to New Beijing to get away from her father. But that was not the real reason. Scarlet had the same power as her grandma, the ability to have perfect accuracy. That's why she won dart night all the time. Her grandmother realized that there was no opportunity in France, so they moved to New Beijing. She met Selene, a girl in foster care with a terrible foster family. But then, a new superhero started showing up, calling herself 'Cinders.'

And Scarlet was a bit obsessed. 

She told Selene all about Cinders, how she dressed, rumors, why her hair is always in a ponytail, her secret identity, etc. Selene was still flustered when Scarlet talked about Cinders and never talked much about the superhero with her. Selene would always change the subject when Scarlet would bring it up. Cinders were Scarlet's idol! When Selene was 14, and Scarlet was 16, she revealed herself as Channary's late daughter. Scarlet already knew this, but when Selene told her she was moving to Blackburn Skyscrapers. Scarlet freaked. She was losing her best friend. But then someone else took an interest in her. No other than Cinders herself!

Now here she was, a year later from everything, and was working with Cinders. But no one knew about Scarlet's power, and she kept it a secret because she didn't feel the need to tell anyone. She was happy and still obsessing over Cinders, and hopefully, she would stay like this for a very long time. 

"Scarlet!" a familiar voice rang through the halls of the abandoned factory that the superheroes took over as their 'secret base', "Look out!" Android came running in; her arms stretched out and tackled Scarlet.

"What! What happened! Is there danger!" Scarlet exclaimed before Captain Thorn came flying in, carrying a big pole. It was more like he was flying away from something, "Did you hurt Cinder again?" 

"It was an accident!" Thorne yelled, "I didn't mean to hurt Cinder; she was in the way!"

"Well, guess what, Dingus! Next time you're going to open your eyes and look at your surroundings before you go pole vaulting!" Cinders appeared in the doorway, her mask covering her eyes, and had a messy ponytail falling apart. She usually wore an all-black outfit with a black leather coat that reached her feet with orange streaks running through them. Her hair also had orange highlights in them. Scarlet had to admit; it looked pretty cool. 

"Sorry, gorgeous, I didn't mean to give you a black eye to ruin your perfect face." Cinders growled and facepalmed. Captain Thorn had a traditional superhero outfit. With the red cape and everything. 

"We have visitors!" The Androids voice rang. She wore a bodysuit that had a low cut on her chest. The outfit had pastel blue and lavender purple streak the white background. The colors went well with her dark skin and blue braids. All three of them wore masks over their eyes. 

"Who's here? Nobody told me that we had people coming over," Scarlet looked at Cinders, and every time she did, a rush of excitement went through her. It was almost as if she couldn't believe she was here with three superheroes! One of them was her idol! Her heart thumped, and she looked away. 

"Just some friends. They have information on the people being experimented on in Blackburn Industries."

"Last time you said a friend was coming over, and now we have the Frenchling," Thorne said. Scarlet scowled at him, and he gulped, "What I mean is, are we going to get some new superheroes?"

"Possibly. It depends if they want to or not." Cinder picked her nail with the metal-covered hand. 

"Hello, fellow superheroes. I am Winter Hayle-Blackburn, at your service" A girl with dark brown skin and a pure white dress walked in gracefully, followed by a man with pale blonde hair. When Scarlet could see her face, she gasped. This girl was beautiful! She saw that there were scars under her left eye and briefly wondered what could've caused them. How did everyone get so attractive all of a sudden? Is it like a superhero gene or? Iko gasped and looked at Cinder, then back at Winter like she figured something out.

"Hi, Winter. You already know me. This is Android, Scarlet, and Thor-"

"Captain Thorn"

"Thorn. Anyways, you said that you have news for us?" Winter's eyes went wide and looked at the man behind her. 

"Right. Jacin and I would like to talk to you all about the man in the cage."

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

"Ze'ev Kesley," Scarlet murmured, looking at the file Jacin had given them, "Who names their kid Ze'ev?" She looked at Android, who only shrugged in reply. They were at the back of the Blackburn Skyscraper, and Winter gave them a lock combination t get inside. Winter also instructed them to go to the basement, and they will find Selene there. Scarlet was excited to meet her friend again but a little scared. What if Selene changed? Well, at least she had Cinders.

Android punched in some numbers and opened the door. "Since we're all alone, I have some questions I've meant to ask you ever since you joined the team," Android said like they were going to gossip about boys. 

"Oh no," Scarlet said under her breath.

"So, first, are you into anyone?" 

"No?"

"Why did you say that like a question?"

"I don't know?" Android huffed as they made their way through the back tunnels. She wore regular civilian clothes for a change, and a blue hoodie covered her striking hair. She also wore a scarf and sunglasses to keep her identity hidden from Scarlet. 

"Well, I do, and he's so cute," sighed the superhero dreamily.

"When did you meet him."

"The other day."

"Makes sense," only Android could fall in love with a person in a day. They went inside the elevator, and Scarlet pressed the button that went towards the basement.

"What about Cinders?" Scarlet looked at Android, confused.

"What about her?"

"You look at her the same way I look at Kai Pierce every time I see him on a picture." It was then Scarlet knew for sure that The Android has officially gone cuckoo bananas. Scarlet began to laugh.

"You're ridiculous."

"I think that I'm right." Scarlet laughed some more.

"Then I look at you and Thorne the same way," Scarlet looked up, "It's just that you guys are important, you two are superheroes, and I'm just the girl who helps them with minor tasks."

Android looked at Scarlet weirdly, "You know, Cinder, Thorne, and I have been considering telling you about our identities. And adding you as a fully-fledged member to our team!" Then, in one motion, The Android took out her sunglasses and scarf, and Scarlet gasped.

"One, this is not happening. Two, I have never seen you before in my life, so put the disguise back on. Three, I don't have- wait, I do."

"You don't have what?"

"Are there cameras in here?!"

"Yes, but they can't hear what we are saying."

"Oh, ok. But they can identify you!"

"No one knows who I am."

"Right," a ding disrupted their conversation, the elevator doors opened. Scarlet walked and recalled the directions that Winter had given them. She couldn't believe what Android just did. Scarlet refused too. But wait, did that mean that she was part of the team now? Will she get a name and a suit. The thought of being a superhero excited Scarlet so much; she could be jumping up and down. Then she saw someone she hadn't seen in a long time.

"Scarlet, you finally arrived! Long time, no see. Hey Iko." Selene was wearing a white shirt with green cargo pants with gloves and grease all over her face and smiled at Scarlet. Her old friend shared a secretive looked with The Android- WAIT! DID SELENE CALL THE ANDROID IKO! 

"You know An- Iko?" Selene nodded

"Yep, she's The Android.' I tried to convince her to get a better name, but she like 'The Android'"

"Y-you know. wh-what is h-happen-ning r-right n-now." Scarlet felt like she was going to faint. Selen knew The Android. SINCE WHEN!

"It seems to me that Selene over here is Cinders, and Iko is The Android, and I, the incredibly handsome Carswell Rampion, is Captain Thorn." A guy appeared out of nowhere and slid an arm over Selene. No, CINDERS! 

"Sorry I kept it from you all this time. I didn't know you had powers, and I didn't want to leave one of my closest friends behind, so I thought it would be better not to tell you."

"Wow. Umm, okay, this took a turn I did not expect."

"I think this is probably an inappropriate time to cut in, but Winter said some heroes were coming in to rescue me. I'm assuming that you guys are them?" Scarlet looked at a man older than her with striking green eyes. He had handsome features, and when he locked eyes with Scarlet, she looked away. She could also feel her cheeks heating up. He was behind metal bars placed inside the wall, and Scarlet didn't know how she didn't notice him until now. Maybe it was because she was just told THAT HER BEST FRIEND WAS CINDERS! SCARLET'S IDOL! THE HERO OF NEW BEIJING!

"Are Ze'ev Kesley?" Asked Selene- Cinders. The man nodded his head. He also had unruly dark brown hair. Scarlet briefly wondered how it would feel. 

"Okay then. Our sources tell us, and by sources, I mean Winter, that you can shapeshift into any animal, am I right?

"Well, each animal takes time and practice to morph into. Sometimes it's painful, but the wolf is my favorite, and it's the easiest to control."

"So, do you have a pack or something?" Scarlet butted in. Ze'ev smiled warmly. She could felt her heart do a little backflip.

"No, but if I did, I would probably be the alpha. Hopefully." He looked away as if he was in deep thought.

"Yeah, I think so too." She smiled at Ze'ev, and he smiled back. Unlike other, certain men, Ze'ev was nice and warm. She liked that. Biting her lip, she looked up and felt something warm rush through her. 

"I think I see some sparks flying," The Android- Iko singsonged. Snapping out of her trance, Scarlet glared at Iko and Thorne, who were snickering. She looked at the superheroes and saw not the great, extraordinary, talented, power-wielding celebrities. She saw normal teenagers. And Scarlet was one of them. Her friends had spilled all of their secrets, so Scarlet felt she had to do the same.

"Hey, guys. I have something I've been keeping from you as well."

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[pollenat]

NCT 127 Returning to you from the war

➛ Note: Inspired by American war movies, so I had the times of World War II in mind while writing this. This is in no way meant to romanticize war. I wanted to focus on the reunion part - something that I do consider romantic. Some are lighter, some are more serious. All according to my imagination.

TAEIL

The waiting was the worst. Surrounded by a large crowd of people similar to you - impatiently expecting the train to appear - you felt small and useless. The vehicle’s interior possessed something of the utmost value to you, a part of your heart, and so with each passing minute the half that remained kept beating quicker as if it could feel the other coming closer. Your chest was about to get torn apart by the strength of gravity pulling you to your celestial body, Moon Taeil. Somewhere someone yelled, somewhere else another person sobbed and you couldn’t decide whose behavior fitted your feelings better.

As soon as the train stopped on the station, people started pillowing each other, everyone trying to climb the living pile of human beings. Your own best bet was a metal fence just asking to be climbed. Hands glued to the railing, you watched over heads of different shapes and sizes. The sobs and screams raised in volume. Men dressed in green rolled out of the train’s exit. They were too far away for you to make out their features. Somewhere in the back of your head a voice was telling you that it’d be impossible to miss Taeil, and yet, the minutes passed and no man reminded you of him. People screamed, either from happiness or relief. Some more impatient spectators tried pushing through the crowd. The living wall turned out to be too thick.

“Bobby!” an elderly woman screamed from somewhere to your right. Startled, your eyes darted in the direction to find reunited mother and son.

Someone laughed warmly next to you. A strange, but familiar voice. In a state of shock, you looked back, to where Taeil stood to your left. He was smiling widely. His cheeks were hollow. One of them had a razor cut on it. His right hand landed on your back. He seemed awkward, unsure how to react to your frozen state. A thumb rubbed your back.

“Taeil!” Perhaps an eternity passed before you realized.

You jumped off the railing and straight into his unprepared embrace. Taeil had to take a step back under your weight, but your tight hug made sure to keep him in place. You were both much weaker versions of yourselves, compared to how you were two years before. But with adrenaline pumping your blood, your arms gained something of a superhuman strength.

“So you were waiting for me after all?” He teased, but his strengthening arms told you just how relieved he was to see you. And you understood. Joking was his way of dealing with tension.

“How did you find me? I was searching for you in the crowd and couldn’t spot you.” Neither of you weakened the grip.

“You were sitting on a railing. Of course I noticed you.” His voice came out muffled, as he hid face in the side of your neck.

Someone elbowed you while pushing through the crowd, and you cringed in Taeil’s hold. His head quickly left the hiding place, as if to tell the stranger off. You saw a rare grimace of detestation decorating usually gentle features. But he didn’t snap at the woman who paid you no mind. Instead, he pulled you to the exit, arms still circled around your features.

“Let’s get out of here, hm? I’m never looking at a train again.”

“Even when we go on holidays?” Taeil looked at your face, the remnants of grimace now nowhere to be seen.

“Ask me again in a week.” Although people were screaming and weeping in the background, you heard his laughter loud and clear.

JOHNNY

Someone called for you. Busy cleaning your shelves, you welcomed the new distraction with a sigh. The past few weeks you’ve been doing nothing, but keeping yourself busy. Anything would do, as long as it kept your head away from the contents of the letter. The last one Johnny has sent you, two months before. You’ve written him back twice, and neither of the messages were answered.

Conclusion seemed obvious, though you’ve never received the bad news. You were kept in the dark, and you’ve welcomed it with last bits of hope that he’d return soon.

With one last glance at the room, you walked downstairs.

“There’s a package for you at the doorstep.”

“And you couldn’t just pick it up?” Your sibling smiled a little, though they quickly bit their lips to hide it. “What are you being so weird about?”

Opening the door, you expected a postman in his dark blue uniform. Not someone dressed in dark green and reminding you of a familiar face. A tall silhouette with wide shoulders and a flirty smile. It quickly dropped the teasing facade to spread into a wide sign of genuine happiness.

“Get it? I’m the package!” You didn’t, but stunned into silence, you could barely understand what was happening.

Johnny brought you to his chest, cheek to cheek, as he hummed happily to himself. As if he had a melody on mind, trying to lull you into sleep. You’d eventually wake up and realize that he was just a dream, because though you hoped, you were sure he was dead.

“You always laugh at my jokes, what’s with you today?”

“Pinch me.”

“What?” Johnny looked at you as if you had lost your mind. But who knew, maybe you did.

“Pinch me.”

“Babe- This is pretty public-”

“On my face.”

“Ah, alright I guess.” Two of his fingers pressed at your skin, signaling your brain through the nerves that indeed, you were awake, and Johnny was very much alive. Even more! Standing in front of you!

“Why would you scare me like that?”

“You asked me to pinch you-”

“No, I meant the letters! You didn’t answer!”

“You see, it was the element of surprise.”

“You and your surprises!” You mumbled against his skin, now returning the embrace with newfound strength. “I thought you were dead.”

Johnny calmed under your tight grip, mumbling sorry’s back to you. It was as if you were writing new letters, now on each other’s skin with whispers and few happy tears. Your hands crawled around his silhouette, forming a picture before you could take a good look at him. To be honest, the picture didn’t matter, just the fact of him being with you.

TAEYONG

It took you a few weeks, but eventually you got used to the woman’s chatter. She’d tell you about her war theories, what her youngest did when she wasn’t around, what her husband liked to eat for dinner. She needed to talk, and you just nodded every now and then, asked a question when something she said was actually interesting. The polite atmosphere had to be upheld - you were working right next to one another. There was no place for feuds.

“I’ve heard some of the boys are already returning.” The woman told you. She was standing behind as you fixed the threads.

“Sounds too good to be true.” Had the machine turned on a second earlier, you’d have had one finger less. “Shit.”

“Have you got someone returning? I hope they let my oldest out.” She made no comment regarding the almost-an-accident. After all, it was just another day at the factory - things happened. Someone in a row in front of yours has even lost a leg. But that was just an unpleasant memory at this point.

“Yeah, I do have someone.”

She kept insisting on sharing that part of your life with her, but you didn’t know what else to tell her. It’s been months since your last letter from Taeyong. At that point, you were trying to get used to the thought that the news could have been bad. But they’d have told you, wouldn’t they? The possibilities were hard to gulp down, and so you returned to work.

Not long after, a wave of talking disturbed the production hall. You dropped the shears and looked around, trying to catch whatever made everyone so talkative all of sudden. Down the corridor, made in between stations, you caught a glimpse of green, so uncharacteristic for the browns and grays that workers wore. The green moved down, closer to your row. It had a spring to its step, an enthusiasm of a child.

You abandoned the material in another hand, now curious who had the courage to pass the factory’s gates. Silence took over the hall, and echoing steps joined a duet with the machines. It was coming closer and closer, until from behind the ragged material, a face appeared. Big eyes placed on thin features. An excitement written all over bitten lips.

“Taeyong?” Hardly believing it to be him, you didn’t call aloud. The woman you worked next to walked to your side.

“He’s yours?” You didn’t answer, eyes stuck on him only. It was as if you tried to find a reason not to believe in his existence. A flaw that would tell you it was all just a hallucination. It made no sense for him to be there - neither the place, nor the timing was right.

When he met your gaze, it was as if someone turned the lights on. Everything became clear. His cheeks spread under the weight of a smile. The spring turned into a run, and soon enough, your limp body was locked by a key to it all - Taeyong.

“You’re back.” You stated the obvious. Taeyong pulled away to look at your bewildered face. A shadow of doubt clouded his forehead, as if your disapproval was a possibility. “Oh fuck, you’re back.”

He didn’t answer, there was no time for him to do so. As soon as you swore, you pulled him back to you. The hollowness he left filled once again. This time, hopefully, for good.

YUTA

“Have you seen him?” A friend asked you. Reading through a wrinkled newspaper, you almost didn’t catch their words. But the question’s sense was enough to bring your heartbeat to speed up.

“Seen who?”

“Oh, come on!” They grabbed the paper straight out of your hands to hide it behind their back. “You know I’m talking about Yuta. Everybody knows about the two of you!”

That’s a story from two years before, when the man mentioned was just a neighborhood’s troublemaker and no soldier. And it’s not like there was any depth to you and Yuta. He has clearly shown it by the lack of communication you’ve suffered. Yes, there was never a label put on the you two, so distancing yourself from the mess would’ve been a logical thing to do. But somehow, as the time passed, you felt longing. You missed his teasing, dirty jokes, flirty smile, and just the sight of that beautiful face of his.

“And what exactly do they know about the two of us?” The friend opened their mouth. “There’s nothing to know, because we’re nothing.”

“So, like you didn’t send each other steamy love letters or something?”

The question made you laugh, partially because of the bluntness, partially out of bitterness. No letters. No communication. Nothing. You didn’t even know he came back.

“No? Search my drawers if you want to. There’s not a single thing with Yuta written on it.”

“Oh, come on!” You turned to play with the fountain’s cold water. Despite the gloomy aftermath of the war and a busy everyday, you’ve found some time to celebrate the Summer. “(y/n)-”

You hummed at them to continue, but no words came out. Irritated by their silence, despite the clear sign for continuation, you looked up to see them staring at the space behind you.

A pair of hands landed on your shoulders, joined by a scream meant to scare you. Surprised (alright, terrified), you were quick to turn around. The person responsible was none other, but Yuta himself. So he really was back.

His wide smile shone next to the Sun, a welcoming gift he offered you. One of his hands remained on your shoulder, as if it was completely okay to touch an almost-stranger like that.

“Look who’s that.” Yuta turned to the side, his smile turning cold at your friend. His head motioned for them to leave. They were quicker than your reaching hand - abandoned you alone with the man as if that was okay. Yuta sat down next to you on the fountain’s edge. “My favorite neighbor.”

“Oh, am I? Do you even know my name?” But he didn’t grow annoyed at your tone. If anything, your words have made him even happier.

“So you did miss me!”

“Why would I miss you?”

“Because I’m me and you’re crazy in love with this guy.” There he motioned at himself. “

“We’re not even friends, so relax. Welcome home, or whatever.”

Yuta was watching as you stood up and walked away. As far away from him as possible. That meant few meters, until he caught up to you and pulled you through the bushes to a small private space. Somewhere you’ve used to meet. His arms circled around your waist, but you didn’t stop him.

“Don’t be mad now. I needed to see whether you’d miss me.” “I mean two years is enough to get over someone.” “And did you?” “Hm? “Did you get over me?”

You had no answer to that. Because yes, you still felt it. Your silence was enough for Yuta. His grip tightened and he pulled you closer to his face.

“It’s alright. I didn’t get over you either.”

DOYOUNG

After a couple of days of constant rainfall, you’ve forgotten what a sunny day looked like. The gray sky has loomed over your head as if in sync with your anxious thoughts. A companion to your walks in the mornings and evenings. At least it has somehow made you less alone. If you were sad, then the world was too.

The Sun’s return felt like a promise. Things were going to be okay. Eventually, hopefully. Its rays woke you up and walked you home, a substitute companion. It has taken over the gray sky’s role, but did better. The blinding sunlight was drawing a smile on your face with its warmth. It carried your body in a light step, made it take up a longer route home.The world seemed much more enjoyable than it really was.

The house you’ve lived in stood in its place. The white wall now slightly yellow, while the light bounced off of the windows. It felt like a proper home. Like it’d shield you from the doubts and wrongs of real life.

Stepping inside, you caught the sound of your grandmother’s voice. She didn’t tell you about a guest, did she? You were in no state to appear in front of others. Your shirt had a dry oil stain on it.

“Oh, it must be (y/n)!” She sounded excited. “Where have you been for so long?!” 

Her voice was floating from the dining room, and so you headed towards it, right after taking off a bit too tight pair of shoes. There was no escaping now that she heard you making a ruckus in the hallway. The guest would have to deal with your tragic state.

“At work! Where else-”

There, in front of the old woman, was a male silhouette. A thin and tall person with wide shoulders. His shoes were black and tatty on the tips. Trousers were somehow too long, so their dirty ends pooled behind his heels. The jacket could use some proper ironing, but it didn’t matter because your eyes reached where the collar made space for the neck. A pointy chin, opened lips, hollow cheeks, the tip of a nose and finally, the dark eyes.

A long year has passed since the last time you’ve heard him say your name. It was hoarse, filled with disbelief and quiet. Nevertheless you could hear him well.

“Doyoung?” He closed the distance, never looking away from you.

His arms have always been strong, but now you could feel more muscles than fat. His cheeks, although always slender, were now sunken, dark. He smelled of sweat - his favorite cologne nowhere to be found. Hugging him didn’t feel the same to what you were used to, but you were more than ready to make new customs.

“Why didn’t you let me know you were coming back?” He leaned back, so you could look at one another.

One of hands let go to wipe a smudge of oil off your cheek.

“It was meant to be a surprise.”

“You big old goof.” He faked a frown. Faked, because his wide smile couldn’t be hidden.

JAEHYUN

Hugging yourself tightly, you scanned the crowd in search of the promised land, or at least the one Jaehyun has told you about before he was shipped off to fight for the country.

From all you remembered, it had dark eyes, a handsome face and strong arms. The rest was an unknown you were willing to find out, had it been the same as you’ve seen it last, or different, as an effect of its stay. Frankly, you didn’t care how much he has changed - you just wanted him back.

Someone ran past you, screaming incoherently. The motion of a person moving so close made you take a step back, straight into a stranger’s chest. Or maybe not a stranger’s.

“Sor- Jaehyun!” He laughed, proud of his little prank. “How long have you been standing here?”

“For quite some time? I was waiting until you’d realize.”

There was a desire to punch him in the shoulder, but you busied your hands with embracing him instead. It was even better than getting an offended yelp out of him. Although you’ve been crying over how little you remember of his hugs, having him in your hold again made every fact came back. The way he liked your hands the best. How long he needed the embraces to last. Where his nose needed to hide, before he could sigh happily.

Jaehyun promised you a land you were looking forward to, but knew all about.

The only surprise was a weird texture of his skin at the back of his neck. One of your fingers played with it when the man in your hold shivered. The time for welcoming embraces ended.

“What was that?”

“Ah, nothing.”  Jaehyun looked to the side, but as soon as he realized that it was like showing you the place he didn’t want to uncover, he put his arm there.

None of his tactics worked. The redness of burns ended at his jawline. You could see it clear as day.

“Don’t be weird about it. I can see your scars.”

Jaheyun groaned in frustration, changing sides so you couldn’t see a thing. He stood in stubborn silence, waiting for the end of whatever he thought needed to end. Nobody spoke for some time, until you couldn’t hold it in any longer and asked “Are you that ashamed of them?”.

“Am I still handsome with them?” His question was a laughing matter. How could a scar make him any less beautiful? “What are you laughing at?”

“Haven’t you heard that scars are considered very attractive?”

Jaehyun looked back at you. The arm he was using to hide his neck dropped to the side, and he seized your body questioningly, as if there was an answer to all the things that bothered him. Well- who knows? Maybe there was?

“Are they? I thought that was just a myth, you know, to make people feel better.”

You smiled teasingly, looping fingers at the edges of his belt.

“Well, I would most certainly disagree with that being a myth.”

He nodded, considering your words. At a silent question of your raised eyebrow, Jaehyun exhaled, grabbed one of your hands, and pulled you towards the station’s exit.

WINWIN

Sicheng stood in his bedroom with an expression one could only call unreadable. He felt weird without his uniform, regular trousers and shirt irritating his tormented body. They should be his solace, solid ground to stomp on with the war behind him. And yet the material was an unwelcome texture that covered the visible marks of his maturity. He wasn’t a boy anymore, like his room presented - with its childish wallpaper and a small collection of toys placed neatly on the shelf. Sicheng was a man raised by the military. If there had been something he was the best at, it would be shooting and carrying out the orders.

That’s partially why he was wary of coming face to face with his old life. Realizing how twisted he had to be now in comparison to his younger self was something he wanted to avoid. Of course, he failed the task as sentiment took over him as soon as he saw his plastic horses on shelves. But the picture he was now looking at, tucked in the frame of the big mirror, was even more overwhelming. He didn’t remember why it stayed at home instead of being in his pockets through it all. The nervousness of leaving must’ve  made him forget about it.

After a longer moment of hesitation, his hand abandoned the safety of his thigh to grab the photograph and look at it from a smaller distance. Slick paper was aging quickly, but Sicheng couldn’t find it in himself to curse whoever did such a poor job for the large amount of money he had to pay. You were smiling fondly at him from the picture, and he imagined you doing the same once he would see you. Sadly, doubt had a strange habit of returning to him so often these past few years that the dreams of your grin quickly turned into ones blurred by his own tears. What could await him by your side?

Both excitement and dread pushed him to leave his house behind and ride a bus to find out how disturbing the reality was. Many things stayed the same, like the raw walls of your flat’s corridor or the depth of your neighbor’s wrinkles. Only little things changed and yet they were difficult to spot.

In front of the old doors he had second thoughts and was close to turning around. As soon as he did that, his usually steady hands let go of the bouquet of flowers, and he made too much noise gathering them together.

The entrance behind him was opening in sync with his legs straightening, so when he stood up, your eyes were already watching his. In all honesty, he expected you to look alien, as if it was the first time he has ever seen you. But it was completely different. You were familiar in every possible aspect of existing. The changes were like in your surroundings - little, invisible to someone that didn’t know you as well as Sicheng did. The man in front of you could instantly point out the difference in your hair’s length, a new scar decorating your face, how thin you’ve become thanks to the harsh years of war... All of these brought him both sadness and happiness. Sadness, because you were affected and happiness, because the memory that kept him sane at night was identical to the reality.

He was so lost in the sight of you, he didn’t even notice how strange he looked to you, although your face was an open book just for him to read. Maybe if he had noticed, he would lose all of his courage and eventually escape the daunting atmosphere.

“Hey.” He managed to say in the softest of tones that remained the same even after the war. His hand gripping the ruined bouquet of flowers shot in your direction to offer the small gift. “It’s been a while.”

His words sounded so dumb to you, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to hold the laughter back. Not at them, but rather from happiness you felt. Sicheng smiled shyly when your fingers skimmed his meanwhile taking the flowers. One could say that you were magnets - naturally pulling towards one another after just a simple exchange of touches.

In your embrace, he didn’t think about the doubt, he thought about you. Just you in general. Happy, teary-eyed, with harsh hands and soft kisses, in your lowest low but on the cloud nine as soon as he returned into the picture. How could he feel doubt when your salty lips were endlessly smooching his dimples?

JUNGWOO

Your first thought seeing the boy you used to know, was just a confirmation that somehow you’ve lost any certainty about him. 

Kim Jungwoo has changed in almost every possible aspect. There were shadows of wrinkles on his forehead. Hair that he used to wear long was still short from the army. Cheeks, usually full and pushed to the sides by a genuine smile, were now thin and falling in on themselves. Lips looked pale. Though you couldn’t see their texture, you knew they had to be dry. Only his eyes remained somehow similar as they held the last bits of innocence. Brown orbs were swinging between focus and the lack of it, easily getting distracted by the simplest things. Jungwoo’s body language was similar - he would either attempt the bad-boy-leaning-against-a-counter pose or catch himself returning to standing straight as his head turned to look at something. Two men that he was with were bent over their drinks, talking to one another without paying too much attention to their third companion.

“Is this really Kim Jungwoo?” A friend spilled her blond locks on the table as she positioned herself to take a better look at the young man in question. “My my, hasn’t he changed a lot?” 

Her wide eyes turned to yours. The message she was trying to send you wasn’t clear. What did she expect you to say in return?

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a little surprised too.”

“A little? You’ve been basically drooling for at least ten minutes now.” Blonde slapped your arm teasingly. “But hey, not judging. Little Jungwoo sure turned into a dreamboat.”

Embarrassed by her words, you turned your head away. You were unwilling to admit she was right. Because yes, the innocent boy that has always been incredibly shy, changed into an attractive man with confidence radiating off of his body. You couldn’t accept the change both in him and the way your own eyes were yearning to look at his features.

When his eyes met yours, you froze in the seat, a sheepish smile turning into a straight line. Jungwoo didn’t wait. A wide smile blossomed on his face, and he instantly walked over.

Without anything else to do, your gaze landed on Jungwoo’s on. He must have been as shocked as you by the chance meeting. His lips were parted and thick eyebrows have risen high up. None of them overshadowed an evident smile.

“Jungwoo!” Your friend sang from the spot next to you.

The young man spared her a single glance as he welcomed her, but quickly returned to stare at your face. You could feel the knowing gaze your friend was giving you. After few awkward seconds of some sort of a staring contest, she elbowed you to do something.

“Maybe you should go and catch up?” The girl offered with clenched teeth.

Startled, you finally pushed yourself up and out of the crowded booth to stand next to Jungwoo. Slightly intimidated by his bold gaze, you asked “Want to go for a walk?”

The laughter he answered with was bold and confident, but Kim Jungwoo wasted no time in offering you his arm.

“Happily.”

MARK

The first thing his sleepy features did, was frown. The headache was painful, but seconds later it left, as he remained frozen in place. You wouldn’t have noticed, had it been not for your position. His face was in your peripheral vision, just above the book you were reading.

It came out of nowhere. Nobody knew when he’d wake up. All you had to do was wait, because he could breathe. As a very tired doctor has repeated to you every day - time was the best remedy. And so you waited. The fact that he finally woke up? You didn’t believe it. Frozen in place, unsure whether to stay or call for a nurse, you waited. If the time was the best remedy, then it had to be the best judge as well.

Mark’s eyelashes fluttered before he allowed the world inside. As soon as he did, he closed them as well. On and off again, he blinked rapidly, trying to get used to the light. The book closed in your hands. His nose scrunched. Fingers straightened at his sides. An inaudible voice told you to reach for them, but you gripped the book tighter instead.

“Is he waking up?” You looked back at one of the five men that were all locked inside the hospital’s room. His left arm was gone, but it didn’t stop him from looking positively at the world. Every then and now he’d busy you with a small talk, and you’ve grown sympathetic towards him.

“Yes.” Upon turning back towards Mark, his dark eyes met yours. His face didn’t change an expression, but you knew he recognized you. Something about the sparks in his eyes that every author loved to bring up.

A small smile of relief blossomed on your features. The spreading warmth told you - it’s going to be alright now. If Mark had woken up, then he had been on the road to fast recovery.

“Hi.” You knelt down by the side of his bed. The corner of a nightstand pressed painfully at your body, but you wanted to be as close to Mark as possible.

Still sleepy, with eyes half-closed, he smiled back. His hand moved a little in your direction, but it was too weak to reach it. Not the one to deny him, you beat the distance yourself, transporting his hand to your face. It felt cold against your cheek.

“Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Hmm-” a yawn blocked him for a moment. “Tired.” His voice was hoarse, as expected from someone who has slept for almost a week.

“That’s alright. You’ve been out of it for quite some time-”

“Have I? How long?”

“Six days.”

“Ouch.”

His reaction made you giggle quietly, and his small frown was quickly replaced by another smile. You couldn’t stop yourself from placing a comforting kiss on his forehead. Mark watched you silently, his eyes still glossy.

“I should go and call the nurse. They need to give you a good check, now that you’re awake.”

“You’re going?” He looked as if you have kicked his puppy. Fingers attempted to lock around your hand, but it was fruitless. Mark was weak, and he couldn’t even hold a limb up.

“I’ll be right back.” Before he could say anything more, you left. Although aware that nothing felt real, you didn’t want to start the topic of war. The time would come. For now, you’d like to act as if it has never happened.  

HAECHAN

The concrete blocks felt hot under the palms of your hands. Compared to the pleasant warmth seeping through your trousers, the firsthand contact felt like touching lava. You wouldn’t have known, but you could only guess it had to be as painful.

The radio speaker has been repeating all day, like a mantra, the weather was a gift at the end of the war. You didn’t feel like the hotness was any sort of a gift, though you haven’t decided yet, whether you loved it or not. The last year was nothing, but a series of undecided opinions. Lonely, watching as your entire neighborhood disappeared, you felt like the whole world has died. Now, all that remained just broken shells of tortured souls.

You remembered the past. The games of hide and seek, limited only by the crossroads at the ends of your street. Stolen cigarettes smoked behind the closest factory. Rumors repeated every time you saw someone, because there was not much happening in the lives of teenagers stuck in their little world.

The noise of an engine filled the street’s void. A woman hanging laundry on a balcony on the other side of the street, looked down to search for its source. Your head turned too, but the hotness bouncing off of the asphalt made it impossible for you to make the features out. Only one thing was sure - a car was coming your way. You didn’t want to stand up for nothing, so you placed hands on your feet as if to nail them to the ground.

“Where is the orchestra? Where are the balloons?”

It couldn’t be- could it? He had to be a mirage. The last time you saw Lee Donghyuck was a year ago, when he sneaked into your bedroom in the middle of the night. The next morning he was supposed to leave for the war, so he decided to kiss you goodbye. One small kiss that tasted of cigarettes was all you remembered him for. And his striped pajamas. A stark contrast to his current green uniform.

The man jumped off the car’s back and waved at the driver to go. The other man honked before pressing the accelerator on.

“You won’t even stand up to welcome me?” His words made you push yourself up.

For some reason, although he stood in front of you, real, he didn’t feel right. There had to be a hook, a switch that would make him fade away into oblivion once the wrong motion was made. You wanted to believe in him, but the loneliness you experienced has left a mark on your mind.

“What’s up with you?” He took your sunglasses off. “Oh, you’re so happy to see me, I left you speechless, right?” A brilliant and cocky smile lightened up his features.

Stuck in a loop of opening and closing your mouth, because you had so much and, simultaneously, so little to say, you never answered. Instead, your eyes wandered around his face, taking in all the signs of change that the past months have left on him.

Donghyuck was missing an ear. Where your eyes were used to seeing a shell-like organ, there was nothing. Your fingers reached for the empty spot and rubbed at the still delicate skin.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Although he tried to sound brave, you caught the glimpse of uncertainty in his voice.

He has rarely shown insecurity, so the idea of experiencing that new part of his- Perhaps the whole idea of being able to experience him, made you finally smile.

“It’s super cool.”

“Yeah, I know. Captain said I will be getting a medal for my service.”

Laughing to yourself, because that was such a dumb thing to worry about in the present moment, you embraced Donghyuck’s frame. He returned it instantly, locking his arms so tightly around you, it hurt. But- You know what? There was no but. You accepted the embrace laughing.

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

[eternityservedcold]

ive been posting about my codex!wendy au on twitter for a couple days now but instead of just copy and pasting what i wrote on there ill actually expand upon it a little. also this post is gonna be really long but theres pictures so i hope that helps

if theres any moment where the timeline splits (not including moments before this that may have had a butterfly effect), it would be william carters train crash in 1904, which.... did not happen in this universe. he, with no small amount of shame, moves in with his rich and successful brother.

wendy and abigail grow up having, essentially, an extra parent, which thankfully means abigail didnt die. with their mother long gone, when jack dies in 1919 (not of magic-y reasons, just like... a heart attack or something), william is left to take care of the twins alone. he tries to find jobs so he could work himself to death and at least save his nieces, but due to his general lack of competence, he isnt finding much that can actually sustain them all.

wendy and abigail, who have noticed this despite williams protests that everything is fine, decide to do the smartest thing they can think of: run away from home so william only needs to take care of himself. im sure you can see why this is a bad idea, even in a universe without the codex umbra, but boy does it get significantly worse for them very quickly.

wendy gets hit by a car. abigail runs for help, but by the time she gets back, wendy is fine. and clutching a strange book.

over the course of the next few weeks, wendy and abigail manage to scrounge up a little money, and between this, wendy shows abigail some neat tricks the codex umbra taught her. abigail suggests, a bit jokingly, that maybe they could become magicians. the codex wendy thinks this is a great idea.

[transcription of text: “THE AMAZING MARY, Performing feats to astound and mystify”]

at the codex umbras suggestion, wendy adopts a stage name, “mary,” and the twins perform their first show. it goes very well, and they make a lot of money, so they decide to keep doing this, and hopefully save enough to go back home and take care of their uncle.

mary and abigail perform many magic shows, and end up becoming beloved around the country. admittedly they do get a bit lost in the sauce, but theyre teenagers, wouldnt you? except, mary often times seems to forget they theyre doing this for their uncle at all. in fact, mary seems all-around real different these days.

mary becomes far colder, more secretive, and will lock herself in her study for days at a time. abigail notices her sisters change in personality, and attributes it to the fame going to her head. unlike charlie, abigail never realized quite how deep mary had gotten into the codex.

mary and abigails final act goes very similarly to maxwell and charlies. theyre going through the routine when something goes horribly wrong, and theyre grabbed by the codex and taken to the constant. mary becomes the queen, and abigail the night monster.

mary rules much like her uncle, and brings most of the same people into her world. the differences are as such:

maxwell is still william carter, who replaces wilson as the “all-around” type. if he was in the game, he would only have slightly lower hunger drain, and otherwise be identical to wilson without a beard

charlie has taken the role of wendy, so to speak... winona died in a factory accident (the very same one that would have taken her to the constant in another life), and charlie keeps her soul in a rose

webber becomes the “canonical” protagonist instead of wilson. i would have made it william, but it is ultimately important that the protagonist is someone uninvolved in the carter relationship chart

wilson is actually a half-decent scientist so he replaces winona, i guess

adventure mode is the same but i wrote some quotes for funsies, here we go:

A Cold Reception

Looks like you found my portal.

Haven’t you learned “curiosity kills the cat?”

Let’s see if I can’t up the stakes a bit.

King of Winter

Oh, you survived, that’s fun.

Just remember, you need to be lucky four more times...

But I only need to be lucky once.

The Game is Afoot

Huh? You’re still alive?

That’s... impressive. I’m interested to see how this will go.

Break a leg out there.

Archipelago

How do you do?

This has been fun. You’re a good playmate.

But I think you should know I had a nasty habit of breaking my toys.

Two Worlds

How do you do?

I know you may not want to make another deal with me, but...

I’ll just give you all of this for free.

Food, gold, pigs, anything you want from this world.

All I want in return is for you to stay put, okay?

Darkness

Go ahead.

Keep going.

I think we both know what will happen.

Epilogue

You found me.

Was it what you hoped for?

Forgive me for not giving you a curtsy.

For what it’s worth, you were a fun playmate.

To me, at least. Maybe not to Them.

Maybe They’ll find you more fun when you’re here.

They’ll show you beautiful, terrifying things.

It’d be best if you didn’t fight it.

I’ve worked so hard to make this world.

I’ve made it so pretty for Them.

I thought I was so smart. So needed.

But even Queens are bound to the board.

In the end, I can’t change the game.

I’m not quite sure what They want.

Perhaps we’re just performing for Them.

Though that may be my mind playing tricks on me.

Hm. What year is it? Time is weird here.

Go ahead, stay as long as you like.

It’s not like I can throw you out.

Or you could put the key in and get it over with.

It’s a lose-lose situation.

That’s life, though, isn’t it?

...I think I’m done for now.

i also drew some disconnected cyclum-ish comics:

[transcript of text:

Mary: "After all I've done, you still help me. Why?"

Webber: "We trust you."

Mary: (offscreen) "I don't understand."

Webber: "If you were gonna do something, you already would have."

Mary: "I just don't understand."

Webber: (offscreen) "It's okay, Mary, you don't have to."]

[transcript of text:

William: "I missed you so much! I was worried sick, I can't even be mad at you..." (rambling)

Mary: "I... I'm sorry, do I know you?"]

im very much still developing this au but thats what i have so far.

[coppercatwrites]

Save Me - Sherlock x Reader

Chapter 7: Old Friend

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader Word Count: 1,581 Synop: Meeting with client #2 Tag List: @reveluvspecial​ @ravencatart​ @germansarechill​ @bakerstreethound​ @sassy-potato-yall​ @melanoms​

Sherlock huffs. “I look ridiculous.” 

You laugh as you watch him check himself out in the mirror. Ginger colored hair, fake glasses, a grey shirt, and black pants. 

“You look good with Ginger—”

“Auburn.”

“Auburn colored hair. You still need the mustache though.” 

“No.” He pushes past you out of the bathroom and into the sitting room. “I will not wear one of those.” 

You huff. “I know you wouldn’t look good in it. It’s for your own safety. He knows far too many people. I would like to assume he already knows who you are.” 

He pushes up his glasses. 

Already fallen into the part I guess.

“You talk like you know him.”

You pause. “Well duh, I attempted a hit for him.” 

“That’s not what I mean.” His arms cross above his chest, eyes searching into yours. “You knew him more than a client. An old friend perhaps?” 

Turning away from Sherlock, you look over your shoulder. “Just be ready in an hour. If we get there early, it will help keep your profile.” 

Face burning, you hop down the stairs and pass John. “I’m going out for coffee. Would you like anything?” Your hand holds the knob of the door. 

“No, but please take this.” He hands you some cash. 

You squint at the money. “I’m surprised you're letting me go, actually.” 

John smiles. “Would you have stayed if I told you to?” 

Folding the money in your pocket, you smirk. “You’re right, I would have gone anyway. Thanks for the money.” 

After walking past the door, you find your way to the post office. You pluck an envelope from the shelf and drop in a keychain with the letter ‘H’. You also throw in a red bus that has the words ‘Welcome To London' plastered on the side. With a smile, you buy a stamp and send out the letter to your mother. 

Just as you enter the coffee shop, an unpleasant feeling washes over you. While standing in line, you make eye contact with a man sitting at a booth. 

Shit… I should have listened to John.

You turn out of the coffee shop and run into the most crowded area. From there, you get back to Baker Street as fast as you possibly could. Whipping the door open, you rush inside and up the stairs. Sherlock and John both hop out of their chairs. 

“What—”

“I hope you're both ready because we need to leave. Now.” 

John, Sherlock, and yourself leave 221B and hop into a cab. You pull out a wallet and toss it to the driver. His eyes widen at the excessive amounts of orange notes within the leather.

“Leave us your car, and I swear I’ll return it with more money.” 

The cabbie gets out and you hop into the front seat. With multiple twists and turns, you end up a block away from your meeting site. An abandoned factory.

John clears his throat. “Do I want to know who’s wallet that was?”

You smirk. “No.”

He huffs. “Okay, what happened when you went out for coffee?” 

“I saw someone.” 

“Who?” 

The abrupt stop of the cab makes sherlock and john slide forward into the driver and passenger seats. You turn and hand Sherlock a small microphone to hold in his pockets. “This is so we can hear you in case there’s trouble. He should be there soon.” 

Sherlock eyes you with a suspicious look before he exits the cab and walks into the building. You watch his retreating form as you hand John an earbud. Putting in your own, you turn the volume up. 

“So, who did you see when you went for coffee?” 

You huff. “Not the time, John. Maybe later.” 

Through the earbud, you hear a door opening and closing. The sound of footsteps grow closer. “You’re early.” 

Sherlock clears his throat and puts up a fake accent. “I thought it best to be early, Sir.” 

“Sir?” the man scoffs. “We’re both adults here, let's go by our users.”

“Shadow, where can I find the woman you’re looking for?” 

The man shakes his head. “I’m going to frisk you first. Pat ya down.” 

You hear a huff over the mic before the sound of ruffling clothing.  “Very well.” 

Back in the cab. John shakes his head. “He’s gonna find the mic. It’s not well hidden.” 

“Have faith, John.” 

Over the earbuds, the ruffling stops. “What’s this? Numbers, I’d say you’re trying to record me.” 

“Sorry ‘bout the confusion. I like to record my research from the lab. Left it in my pocket by accident.” 

After a beat of silence, a piercing scream blasted into your earpieces before nothing but static can be heard. 

You throw your earpiece to the other side of the cab while John tosses his to the floor. “We need to get in there! He could be in trouble!” 

“John, I have nothing to defend myself with. What am I supposed to do in an empty warehouse to help sherlock?” 

“Stay. Behind. Me.” 

 John opens the door with his gun out and clears the hall. Slowly stalking forward, you hear muffled speaking coming from the open warehouse. You peak your head around the door and see Sherlock and the client. 

“So are we at a deal, Shadow?” 

“Wait a minute now, numbers. You sure you’re up for this?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Because.” The client smirks and pulls a gun.  “Sherlock Holmes, your record will be very dirty when you’re done.” 

You see his Adam's apple bob and his eyebrows twitch. “What makes ya think I’m Mr. Holmes?”

The client yells out into the warehouse. “If you don't come out on my count of three, I’m going to shoot Mr. Holmes in the head. One.” 

“Ay, you don't have to do that, I’m not Sherlock Holmes. I have a badge from work and everything!” 

“Two.”

You spring from your hiding position when John holds out his arm to block you. Your shoe hits his chest as you push him back from you. 

“Nick, stand down! He’s not who you want to kill.” 

“Ah, there she is. I knew I saw you at the coffee shop.” 

With a hand on Sherlock's chest, you turn to face the client. “This is between us. No more cat and mouse.” 

John scrambles out of his hiding place to stand next to Sherlock. His gun pointed at Nick.  

Just as you’re about to speak, Nick holds up his finger. “Just a second, I need to go get something. Would you mind waiting?” 

He opens the door and walks into a room. When he comes out, he’s accompanied by a little boy with noise-canceling earmuffs. 

John’s grip on his gun falters. “Oh, god. A child.” 

“Mommy! ” 

Nick holds the boy in front of him, gun a few inches away from the back of his head. 

Sherlock’s eyebrows crease. “Mommy?” 

You grit your teeth while your eyes grow moist. “You son of a bitch.” 

He smirks and directs his attention to Sherlock and John. “She didn’t tell you she had a son? Yeah, me neither.” 

“Henry isn’t a part of this, let him go home.” 

“What home? You stole something from me. It’s only fair I steal something from you.”  

John sucks in a breath and aims his gun to the ground. Sherlock studies the face of the terrified boy. 

“Your mom didn’t put up much fight. Doesn’t surprise me though. She was always weak.” 

The rumble of Sherlock’s chest against your fingers nearly made you jump. “Let the boy go, we can talk this out like intellectuals.” 

Nick chuckles. “ I trained you, (y/n). I loved you. How could you leave me?” 

“I know, Nick. I’m sorry.”

He pauses and aims the gun back at Henry. “If you’re sorry, why did you hide my son from me.” 

“I tried not to hide him from you. I hid him from everyone else. I was afraid of him getting hurt.” 

“We could have protected him together. Like what family is supposed to do.”

A few tears drip down your face. “I see that now and I’m sorry. I—” you take a shaky breath in. “I still love you.” 

Nick’s grip on the gun falters and his finger rests away from the trigger. His gaze moves to the floor. 

“Nick, I think you should put the gun down. We can be a family again.” 

Your eyes soften as your hand flattens out over your lower abdomen. “I don’t want to lose this one. I hope it's a girl.” 

Sherlock’ s wide eyes look from Nick to you and back again. You hear him start to speak under his breath.

“You’re n—” You elbow him in the stomach.

John’ s eyebrows furrow as he mumbles something under his breath. 

Nick smiles widely and lets go of Henry. “I’m gonna be a father of two.” 

You lower yourself into a crouch as Henry’s body collides with yours. As you hold your son, Sherlock rushes to step in front of you. The pop of John's gun makes you glad you kept the earmuffs on Henry. 

John holds pressure on Nick’s shoulder wound. When he turns to Sherlock, he sighs. “Take them home. I’ll be sure Lestrade and an ambulance get here.” 

You stand up, Henry wrapped around your neck and waist, and walk back out to the taxi. Sherlock hops in the driver's seat, his eyes between you and the road the whole way back to 221B.

Next chapter: ---> 

[pinkysfaultorbrainsfault]

pinky and the brain - s1e2: of mouse and man

episode summary: brain needs money to build a perpetual answering machine to occupy everyone in the world for long enough for him to take over. to do that, he needs an absurd amount of money, so he decides to get a job in an office!

and then fake a nondairy creamer accident that turned him into a mouse, because as we all know, brain has to take the most dramatic path he possibly can in life, or he dies.

the rundown:

we open with pinky showing off his ass.

PRODUCED BY PETER HASTINGS. i assume that means the episode, and not the ass. the ass was initially produced by pinky’s parents and then helped along by the warner brothers’ dietary experts for their. mouse actors.

brain isn’t feeling it right now.

instead, as he plucks a rib from the lab’s anatomical model of a human being, and uses it to unpick his cage, he angsts - WRITTEN BY PETER HASTINGS - he angsts over the Dark Side Of Man, that has built war machines and pollution spilling factories and

VOICEMAIL.

😱

as pinky continues to stick his ass out (though onlyfans wouldn’t be launched for another twenty one years) brain runs through his latest plan, which, of course, involves voicemail.

look at those wiggles. this is a rough draft episode.

anyway brain intends to reroute all telephone conversations into his confusing, recursive, voicemail service that, he claims, will keep the human race occupied for “at least seventy two hours.”

“more than enough time for a well prepared mouse to seize control of the planet.”

“i see! so all we need now is a well prepared mouse.”

I???????

HOLY FUCK

brain is unhappy. i am not surprised.

“i am a well prepared mouse, pinky.”

“oh. well. there you are, then.”

unfortunately this plan comes with the pitfall that it will cost.... one million, six hundred and fourteen thousand dollars. which is a lot of money, or, as pinky puts it, “a lot of money!”

as brain wonders about how to raise these funds (”without running for congress”) pinky pinkys off to watch some tv.

HAVE YOU BEEN INJURED IN AN ON THE JOB ACCIDENT

YOU MAY BE ENTITLED TO HUNDREDS, THOUSANDS, EVEN ONE MILLION SIX HUNDRED AND FOURTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS IN COMPENSATION

LENNY PARVIK GOT ME TWO HUNDRED AND ELEVEN DOLLARS

EVEN THOUGH I’M NOW NINETY PERCENT FUDGE, IT’S OKAY BECAUSE LENNY PARVIK GOT ME ONE HUNDRED AND FOURTY TWO DOLLARS SIXTEEN CENTS AND SOME CHANGE

<LOUD, INCREDIBLY DISTRESSED CRYING>

hm.

“pinky, are you pondering what i’m pondering?“

“i think so, brain, but i get all clammy inside a tent.”

anyway so brain’s new plan is to get a job, stage a

HIDEOUS ACCIDENT

and then sue them for one million, six hundred and fourteen thousand dollars in workers compensation.

this episode also has a lot of faces. god, but these mice are so bloody cute. youtube has not yet been invented, but one day it will be, and all brain has to do is sit in front of a camera and nom some corn and go O:O with his face, and everyone will be crying over him within minutes.

it’s so sad that he doesn’t know that.

but for now, he has a job interview to go to. good luck, brain! can’t be any worse than that time allsaints forgot about me and the manager acted like it was my fault.

“impressive credentials. you’re certainly qualified. are you married?”

“oh, yes, i have a lovely wife and two beautiful young children.”

“oh that’s too bad. we’re looking for someone who has no life. thank you.”

as family man walks off, dejected, in comes a completely unsuspicious fellow looking for an honest living honest living, just like in rent the musical.

his arm is acting up, a bit, but it’s fine.

“very impressive resume. princeton, harvard, six years in the industry-- tell me, mr brain, what are your long term career goals?”

“i plan on taking over the world.”

“you have drive! i like that! but confidentially, taking over the world is my job, hahahaha.”

”yes. haha. ha.”

”now. brass tax - are you married?”

“i do have a roommate. but he’s very busy with his own activities.”

HA HA HOO HOO HOO

<muah>

HAHA

“but. one more thing. about your head. isn’t it rather small?”

“no. not for my race.”

“no! no, of course not-- and your people are such... good... cooks... with their tiny heads, uh. please. excuse me for one second.”

“carol! send everyone else home! i got myself a minority person!”

BRUH I?!??!?!?!?!

anyway. brain gets the job.

“mr brain! welcome to the world of re-reinsurance!”

he’s delighted.

back at the labs, he plots his untimely demise at the hands of re-reinsurance,

stating the accident “could be bluffed by altering the mollecular matrix through a substrate platform of microwaves.”

pinky’s response to this is “look brain, i made a choo-choo.”

“oh, and me without my video camera!”

in simpler terms, he explains to pinky that he will stage an accident, “utilising the microwave oven and the non-dairy powdered creamer.”

“because”, to pinky’s apparent horror, “nobody really knows how a microwave works.”

“but why the powdered creamer, brain?”

“nobody knows how that works either.”

(and then, i guess, there’s a scene where some guys jump him on the train for some reason,

i’m only putting it here because this guy is like “oh, you’re funny, you’re a regular gallagher”

and brain’s like “you think gallagher is funny?”

):

anyway then he ties the dude into a pretzel and throws him off the train.

bonk. it adds nothing, but it’s very funny.)

“this is your cubicle right here. if you need any office supplies, ask the office manager and she should have them over in two or three months.”

it’s brain’s first day at work! his boss reads him the company policy on

vacations, personal phone calls,

and sexual harassment.

“don’t worry about it. you’re safe if you avoid all contact with other humans.”

“my goal in life.”

as brain unpacks the things that pinky has packed for his “home away from home,

awwwww.

his nosy cubicle neighbour inquires about brain’s “pet mouse,”

elaborating that he keeps mice! haha! to feed to his pet snake!

to be fair this is also me around snake people. more understandable in brain’s case, being that he is, actually, a mouse, and i am a human person who may be slightly obsessed with tiney small flofys.

;u;

(they play tennis on their lunch break and brain sets him on fire, so it’s not too bad.)

upon his return from the office, pinky, who has dolled himself up to the nines, presents brain with a Yummy Dinner of Food Pellets With Food Pellets.

i will say i think it’s really cute how this show keeps pushing the narrative that pinky just really, really wants to be an old timey housewife. he just spends his time watching i love lucy (when Fish TV isn’t on) and stuff like that and he’s just obsessed with the idea of dusting something alluringly but ineffectively and making brain little dinners.

and it’s so fucking cute!!! what??? it’s adorable. as soon as they get the world pinky better get a little dollhouse kitchen room with lime green everything and a functioning oven.

“please, pinky. i’ve had a very tough day.”

“oh, you have? you’ve had a tough day?”

“what about my day, brain? we always hear about your day, but what about mine?!”

“DO YOU EVER ASK WHAT I DID TODAY???!”

“very well pinky. what did you do today?”

“i don’t remember.”

“anything?”

“not a thing.”

“well, now i know how american gladiator stays on the air.”

the next day, at work, brain is vexed by the fact that nobody has refilled the coffee machine.

“sorry. that’s my fault. hey, you’re cute.”

“you know what they say. big ears. big earmuffs.”

.....okay.

unfortunately brain’s mechanical arm chooses now to malfunction.

she’s into it?

brain maintains that it was a mistake, and he doesn’t find her attractive at all, because brain knows how to talk to women.

she is no longer into it.

horrified by his semi-accidental fuckboy behaviour, brain heads out as quickly as he can, only to be immediately called into his boss’ office.

despite brain’s claims that “the young lady appears to have misunderstood me,” which i’m sure will hold up well on twitter,

mr boss man reveals that he has done some fact checking, and there is no record of brain attending harvard or princeton.

“oh.”

he is given the ultimatum that he either produce his diplomas, or HIS CAREER IN RE-REINSURANCE IS OH OH OVER!!!

very sad!

looks like it’s time to stage a workplace related accident.

he pours the creamer everywhere, discards his suit, and runs up to plonk himself merrily into the pile.

ahem.

HELP, HELP. A TERRIBLE  OCCUPATIONAL DISASTER. I’VE BEEN MAIMED BY AN ON THE JOB ACCIDENT REQUIRING MASSIVE WORKERS’ COMPENSATION.

as others in the office crowd around to look, brain makes his dramatic reveal.

“i’ve been turned into a mouse!”

COLLECTIVE GASP.

obviously mr boss man won’t pay that kind of money.

so, as brain emphatically tells him, I’LL SEE YOU IN COURT.

conclusion:

as the goodfeathers sit on justice’s head, and bitch about jury duty,

The Man From Washinton asserts that brain’s claim that he is a mouse is preposterous.

good thing brain has xrays to prove it! they “clearly” define his “mouse skeleton!” wait a sec and he’ll grab them.

oh shit! where they go?

(”there really is only one conclusion here.” says a local doctor.

“this man is a mouse.”

“then i’m afraid the only conclusion here, doctor,”

“is that you have never seen these.”

“i trust this might keep you quiet.”

“it might.”)

(BRUH/???????????????) (if boss man is out here bribing people with lingerie, he could have tried that way before this got to court.)

egged on by the lack of evidence in Mouse Corner, christopher walken produces the artefacts from brain’s office cubicle.

“i ask you, when was the last time you heard of a mouse winning a bowling trophy?”

“ugh. pinky.”

“yes?”

turns out pinky is here because “they’re not covering this on court tv,” but does advise brain that “it’s a good thing they didn’t find the mechanical suit, eh, brain?”

oh shit.

“pinky, you must go to the office and get that suit from the kitchen closet. do you understand? if they find that we’re sunk.”

“oh! brain! you want me to help!”

off he goes!

fall mouse. bonk.

(he sneaks into the snack delivery.)

(poit.)

(unfortunately, he gets delivered straight to the vending machine.)

(”narf? ):”)

“well. yes. i had noticed his... small, furry head, but i assumed that was normal for his people.”

“and what people would that be.”

“i’m not sure? i think they’re from europe?? maybe france.”

“the size of my head and whether i was a man before the accident is not the question, here. the fact is i am now a mouse.”

(meanwhile, at fiero:

“try the fruit rollups. they’re yummy.”

“oh, i am doing well. poit.”)

“so how exactly did the accident happen, mr brain?”

“some bizarre thing involving a microwave oven? i don’t know exactly-- no one really knows how they work.”

“incorrect! in the oven, a magnetron produces microwaves which cause water molecules to align, and reverse alignment, producing heat, and not mice.”

“the accident also involved a.... nondairy powdered creamer.”

“ah. um. oh.”

(meanwhile,

pinky attempts to drive.)

“mr brain, in your experience with other mice, are they intelligent?”

“no.”

“exactly. your honour, i contend that mr brain is simply too intelligent to be a mouse.”

oh dear.

(meanwhile,

pinky tries not to get hit by a car.)

“but-- no, noo, i’m not intelligent.”

“i am a simpleton! yes. like any average mouse!”

“um. narf.”

that’s mean, brain, considering the aforementioned narf is on his way to save your gay little ass right now, but whatever.

“so you would have no problem with me saying that albert einstien was a champion surfer.”

“what-- i mean, no.”

“or that the temperature of the sun is a comfortable seventy degrees fahrenheight.”

“i wouldn’t know--”

“or that the fermi-dirac’s distribution function is a soup kitchen?”

“that’s preposterous! your honour, the fermi-dirac's function is, for any system of identical fermions in equilibrium,”

“the probability that a quantum state of energy -- E -- is occupied!”

“my word, man! don’t you know your quantum statistics!”

heck.

bonk.

“oh, blunder.��

and what a blunder indeed! the judge decides to rule that brain’s intelligence proves that he is “not a mouse, and that being the basis for your claim, i now dismiss charges against fiero and company.”

“.....very well. i’ll go now.”

“i’m afraid not. i find you guilty of fraud, perjury, and appearing naked in a public place. take him away.”

good thing they have human man sized handcuffs for this human man! brain looks incredibly perturbed, despite the fact he could probably swim in them. and also that he... kind of lives in a prison anyway, if you think about it. oh, cool, can’t wait to evade that cage so i can go live in my other cage.

hm.

luckily, pinky arrives to save us all from that particular moral quandry.

“i got the suit, brain! i got it!”

“pinky--”

the police attempt to intercept pinky,

so he knocks them over. hoo hoo.

brain falls over,

attempts to enter the suit through the shoe,

and is squoshed for his crimes.

faced with a veritable army of police, at this point,

pinky activates the emergency protocol,

says blue lives scatter,

and fucks off out of the courthouse.

we stan a legend.

unfortunately brain got a fair few ouchies during his prison break, so pinky bandages him up. it’s very cute.

anyway, i’m giving this one to brain, on account there were, yknow, a fair few ways that could have been mitigated. fiero fucked him over, though, so i’ll give him that.

brain: 5 ½ pinky: 6 ½ outside influence: 10

 “egad, brain! brilliant!”

“but isn’t that horribly illegal?”

“............yes.”

[be-the-creature-fan]

Rise of ZV (Episode 2)

By: be-the-creature-fan

Episode Summary: Life after the Accident had deeply effected the WK Crew and decided to split up and find work elsewhere. However they still keep in contact with each other and are together during the highs and lows as time moves forward. Meanwhile a John Doe finds himself not remembering who he is, in a hospital. With very little strength and no known family, a sweet old couple helps him get back on his feet and try to help him remember his past life but to no evale. (It has sub chapters which might occur sometimes in this series)

Hope you enjoy this episode :)

Part 1 Episode 2

Numb and Moving on

After the accident Martin had to tell Martin the news to his family, which was probably one of the hardest things he had to do. Time seemed to move slowly while planning for the funeral, but the day of the funeral eventually came. Martin was feeling numb throughout everything but the funeral seemed epeshily hard for him since they couldn't acutely find any of Chris's remains, so they instead buried Chris's CPS and Creature Souvenir Collection.

After the funeral the WK team started discussing what to do next.

"I think we need to split up" Martin said bluntly.

"Whoa What?" Koki said very surprised. "Why?"

"Well we aren't the WK Team without Chris, and since Chris is gone, well I think we should disband the WK Team and start finding new jobs. We can stay in touch of course but it's time to start moving on."

"Ok, we understand" Aviva and the others said.

Over the next month Martin, Aviva Koki and Jimmy eventually found new jobs.

Martin got an office job at a cabinet factory. Aviva got a job at a mostly top secret science facility. Koki got a job working as a mechanic and Jimmy making a name for himself as a food blogger. Life was hard for the team but time just seemed to moving forward.

Martin's Birthday

It was December 23rd and it was a cold and bitter day. Heck, Martin was so busy with his new office job that he nearly forgot it was his birthday if it wasn't for the rest of the WK team and both of his Parents calling him that morning wishing him a Happy Birthday, not like it was much of a birthday without Chris. Later that day Martin got another call from Aviva.

"Hey Martin, how's your birthday going?"

"I don't know, it's ok I guess just felt like every other day." Martin said as he looked at a picture of Chris trying to smash his head into his birthday cake from a year ago. "How about you Aviva, how was your week?"

"Very interesting to say the least?" Aviva recalled "it's a long story, so if you don't have time I can tell you later if you want"

"Oh I have time, I just finished working for the day and I'm about to head home"

"Alright, well the week started like this..."

You Look Like Somebody I Use to Know.

(8:07am December 19th)

Aviva was working at on a new type of pill in her office that is supposed to restore nerves in the brain. The only thing thats needed now was test runs, but qualified and willing participants were very slim, and for many weeks thats how it was for many weeks. However this day was different, it started when one of Aviva's coworkers barged into her office.

"Ms. Corvado I have excellent news!"

"What is it Jones?" Aviva asked in a unenthusiastic voice

"We found a perfect canidate to test out the brain pill, he's a John Doe case but after hearing about this he's saying that he's willing to be apart of the trial."

"Oh! Well that's great, but does he know the potential risk? Because its still not quite ready."

"Well, he and the people who found him were hoping that they could meet up with a professional to have more of an idea of what this pill can do so they can make a firm decision if they want to continue with participating in the trial."

"Ok I'll probably contact them and meet up with them sometime this week."

So Aviva got ahold of the John Doe victim and the old couple who found him and the very next day Aviva met with them in John Doe's hospital room. The old couple who had found him were Mr. and Mrs. Svinth, and they are farmers. They told Aviva the story of how they found John Doe crawling out of the forest fire that was near by their house, and how half of his face was severely burned and lost his eye.

"For weeks he has been slipping in and out of consciousness" Mrs.Svinth added "We're trying to help him try to remember who he is, but nothing is helping, so when we read about needing participants for the new pill you were working on we told John about it while he was awake and he wanted to be part of your study."

So Aviva meets John Doe and even though he had semi long stubble and a large bandage covering the left side of his face there was something familiar about him but put it to the side thinking she was still grieving and after a short discussion and signing the waiver, John Doe took the pill.

"It might be a while before it takes effect, please let me know if anything happens. Aviva said as she started packing up.

"Thank you" John Doe said in a very raspy voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back to Decmber 23rd

"Wow, that's weird" Martin said as he approached his apartment.

"What is it?" Aviva asked

"The light in my apartment is on, but I always turn it off before I leave for work, maybe someone broke in"

"Oh! I'll talk to you later then" Aviva said as she quickly hung up.

The light then suddenly turned off as Martin began to open the unlocked door.

TBC.......

[spnreactionblogging]

CARRY ON

spoilers below but I’m very late to the game

here we go!!! there's Some Woman in the thumbnail for this episode and I'm like oh boy did you fuckers turn castiel into a girl to make it Not Gay, I will riot. we're off to a dread-inducing start I'm honestly not even sure I want to watch this? I have not heard anything good but since my options are either keep SPN blacklisted forever but ultimately get spoiled anyway, or use my dwindling remaining time to see it for myself without being told what happens, may as well be on my own terms I am hearing that misha and possibly j2 were not happy with this, whatever this is (?????) yikes I don't understand how you even have another episode after the last one. that seems like a traditional ending. you either beat a dead horse or go ultra meta and it sounds like they dropped the ball, big time but let's see jack's sweet and deserved better. there's a clock but it's NOT heat of the moment playing, damn oh the dog. we love you miracle dog sam's still jogging where's eileen!!!! I like seeing sam cooking I actually enjoy watching them do domestic stuff dean sneaking food to the dog 😭 can this be the whole episode, just them doing chores I meant to catch which book sam was reading I can't tell but it looks like it's old this is extra bonus sad for knowing that they couldn't even like, have a wrap party or anything. extra isolated. :( SPECIAL GUEST STAR JIM BEAVER!!! "Are you sure you're ready for this?" "Oh, I don't have a choice." dean hasn't been this relatable to me in years, this is how I feel watching this lmao akron pie fest dean dies of complications from diabetes god I miss bakeries or restaurants or anything I do love Sad Sam Face "I"'m thinking about Cas, you know? Jack. If they could be here." thank you Sam that pain isn't going away for me either "stop being an eeyore" Sam's the Eeyore of the series, Dean, okay, and same lmao jared fucking slammed that pie into jensen's face and they just filmed it. you can see the actual glee on his face brady??? like sam's old classmate? wasn't that his name? or no some kid. is this just a regular-ass monster of the week. do sam and dean just get killed by like. regular people? are there no monsters anymore. I would actually love that. humanity is truly the worst monster of all. didn't we learn that in season 1 :') in "the benders" are these guys sam and dean? are they just murdering monster families like they did in the holiday episode? what is happening. are those dean's shoes. I could probably recognize how they walk if I really paid attention i guess not. probably. "singer and kripke, FBI" ha fucking clowns lmao poor sam they still have dad's journal, huh. THE LORE evil mimes. vamp-mimes. I guess they kill these dudes? we gonna unmask them or what there we go this guy looks like joseph gordon-levitt oh we love torture on this show this is definitely "dean who's NOT the ultimate killer" amirite "if those kids are dead he's gonna use a spoon" how very walter sullivan of you also I feel like sam would not do this anymore but hey who am I, someone who likes consistent characterization? lol we're back to creepy barns instead of wet pipe factories dean has a fucking shuriken lmao I honestly for real need a machete for the overgrown weeds I don't hate this so far? I'm tired of the constant torture but I guess this feels like early seasons, kind of. idk. lmao sam with the concussions. classic tie them to a chair. it's what we do. i will be disappointed if they are not tied to a chair jenny? cue studio killers. I do not remember whatever episiode this is but it looks very early based on sam's hair oh thanks sam. couldn't get out of this episode without beheading a woman too one of the suggestions for me typing "woman" was a high-heeled shoe emoji. thanks, predictive text...?????? true feminist oh damn he could very well get tetanus from that. that's how trinity dies, man. should've gotten your booster shot, dean. vaccines save lives this is like the plot of signs why don't you guys wear bulletproof shit. your plot armor was holding you together until now. GUYS THIS IS HOW HUNTERS GO OKAY don't ever un-impale someone, guys like "dean we are in a major city, there are ambulances" call fucking 911, someone could be there already "I've always looked up to you" because you're taller than me lmaoooo idefk what to say about this like. we all know this is how hunters die. you fucking leered at jessica is what you did, dean if sam makes it out of this I'll accept it. if sam lives I can be okay. if this is the only way sam gets free of this, I'm okay. CALL 911 AND CALL JACK "always keep fighting" aw :( they're both very good at crying, I will give them that we never think it's gonna be the day. at least you got pie. OH THE WINCHESTER FAMILY MUSIC don't do this to me dean got a way better death than castiel. this actually reminds me a liiiiittle bit of the end of season 2? with how dean holds sam's body. the writing here is overwrought though. jared and jensen do the best they can with the script they're given but like you guys just FOUGHT GOD. they're a bit too up their own ass with this. you can tell that dabb thinks he's very clever. sam... gets a dog again? at least. i guess. the pacing is bad. I don't hate this on principle but it is not executed well. I am having like no emotional response to this except maybe relief for sam in a horrid way. like, you're free! at what cost. it's like the opposite of season 5? sam survives instead of dean. and... sam marries a dog. where do they get all this fucking lumber!!! did sam chop that all himself dude if he woke up to "heat of the moment" i'd lose my shit in the best way. gabriel wins. "gotta keep you on your toes." what had to change in this because of the pandemic? at least sam has a dog to be in scenes with him. the two guns as big and little brothers is an interesting choice of a shot. god the fucking phones. "DHS" "CIA" "dean's 'other other' phone" "state patrol" what's the paperwork on his desk? (512) is an Austin area code I have this on amazon prime and the saddest thing thus far is X-Ray: Jared Padalecki as Sam Winchester, with no other actors at all. meta ways, pandemic related. "this is agent bon jovi" donna's alive??? sam just quit, babe. just quit. or take a day off at least, jesus. didn't you just drive back from ohio are you even gonna go back to the bunker DEAN IN HEAVEN!!! how'd you get here. "well at least I made it to heaven" lmao he said the same thing oh hey bobby!! I love jack god i've missed jim beaver you guys moved on to dream bubbles!!!!! RUFUS how very homestuck + narnia of you, starring sam winchester as susan pevensie so jack just like melded all of these metaphysical spaces, I'm cool with that "so the question is what are you gonna do now, dean?" get a better beer so I can drink and drive with my car that's in heaven, I'm already dead so who cares what I hit TELL ME WHERE IS BALTHAZAR FOR I MUCH DESIRE TO SPEAK WITH HIM break everyone out of the empty I do get the impression this was supposed to be a big cast reunion and the pandemic clobbered that :( oh it's the original license plate on the impala sure do love that cas and jack "helped" to give dean everything he's ever wanted. the only time "carry on my wayward son" has been diegetic I guess sam and the dog had a child I like jared in glasses are we doing a bunch of elderly makeup yeah there he is did they just spray grey temp dye on his hair or what is sam gonna drive into toluca lake!!! buddy please don't just run the engine in a garage, he took off his glasses and that makes me nervous jake gyllenhaal looking dude which cover is this must be nice to have healthcare I so appreciate that sam's wife has zero personality and is merely in the background, of no importance whatsoever compared to his kid named dean are the two impalas gonna meet in heaven????? vancouver is beautiful, or wherever this is at jared looks so cozy in that coat you can tell j2 really do love each other for real the majesty of that forest/that river got me choked up a bit, it's such a lonely thing. like. I can see what they were going for? like dean just... getting sick, falling off a ladder, getting in a car accident, etc etc would've been more potent, I think. the execution was not good. I'm not that unhappy though. it's all right. eh. it's fine. the heartfelt message from the cast (what's left of them....) and the crew was sweet. I want to know what they were intending to do? I feel like you can definitely feel the weight of COVID fucking this up which is genuinely upsetting. sam gets like 50 years of being free of dean I GUESS???? perhaps the only way to break the cycle.

at least there was no sexual assault in this episode. i have definitely watched way worse episodes of this show. it's like. twee. but I can't be mad at these guys especially with how much I know jared in particular has been struggling with the state of the world this year but jensen talked about it with rosenbaum on his show too. 2020 has been rough. like. at least they filmed it. whatever. I feel like I get what they were trying to do even if circumstances meant it wasn't really pulled off. it seems like they were supposed to have a big cast reunion and the pandemic took the wind completely out of their sails. this feels incredibly tacked on. 15x19 would've been a much better place to stop. I feel like I just read andrew dabb's notes. I get what they were trying to go for but they didn't pull it off. I thought it was gonna be a lot worse tbh in summary: EHHHHHHHHH

[sweetiepie08]

Rebel Z Chapter 3

Invader Zim fanfic

While analyzing Zim’s PAK for weaknesses, Tak discovers strange coding that sends her on a search for answers. The clues lead her to uncover a conspiracy that governs all of Irken society. When the truth sends her on the run, she has no choice but to return to the one place the Tallest would never willingly go: Urth.

Meanwhile, Dib has noticed odd changes in Zim’s behavior. Has the invader simply grown bored of his mission over the last few years, or is there something more interesting going on?

People who asked to be tagged: @incorrect-invader-zim , @messinwitheddie, @reblogstupids, @cate-r-gunn, @agentpinerulesall​

If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list feel free to message me. Also, if you’re on the tag list and you changed your name, please just let me know. 

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5.  Chapter 6.  Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. 

[-]

Tak activated her Vortian disguise before she even entered the solar system. When dealing with the Meekrob, an Irken could never be too careful, especially after Tenn’s disappearance. Word around the stars was that her life signal suddenly went out one day. No one knew what happened. Apparently, the Tallest hadn’t received ant worrying reports. Her last transmission was a routine observation update. She wasn’t making any risky plans and she didn’t have a near-discovery. She was there one minute and gone the next. Soon afterward, the Meekrob put out a warning declaring that any Irken caught within their planet’s range would be killed on sight. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who was responsible for her disappearance.

It was a shame, really. Tak was a few levels ahead of Tenn in training, but she heard good things. Any invader assigned to Meekrob must be talented. They were, after all, Irk’s most formidable enemies. Safe to assume they had done her in. It was a tragedy that someone so young and bright had been cut down in her prime, but life as an invader was fraught with peril, at least so long as the enemy was intelligent.

Finally, they approached the planet Refirencee and, after going through a check point, she docked her ship in a public hanger. Before exiting her ship, she looked at MiMi. An information retrieval unit would be especially advantageous on this mission, but the engineering was too obviously Irken. “MiMi, cat disguise.” MiMi saluted and her holo-cloaking devise activated. Tak looked her over an nodded her approval. They were lucky an Urth cat looked so similar to a Vortian jelicle.

Satisfied with their cover, they hopped out of their ship and headed for the transport bay. There, they found a digital sign displayed the departure times for bullet trains which took the planet’s patrons to different sections of the massive data base. The trains were broken down by planet and the one for the Irken information section left in only a few minutes.

As they waited for their train, Tak noticed a few patrons looking at her. She tried to keep her eyes on the track before her and ignored their stares as she felt a light pounding in her chest.

One of the patrons approached her. “Um, excuse me,” he said, eyes turning to MiMi.

Tak shot him a glare. “What?”

“I’m not sure they allow pets.”

“She’s an emotional support jelicle,” Tak said. A spark flashed across her eyes and the patron’s face went blank for a second.

“Right,” he answered, almost robotically. “Sorry I bothered you.”

The train arrived and Tak and MiMi boarded. They took a seat and the train took off at break-neck speed. They arrived at the Irken section in a matter of minutes. She stepped off the train to find her self in a large, domed building, surrounded by towers of data cartridges. Sorting droids buzzed about, arranging cartridges to their rightful places. In the center of it all, a librarian sat at a large, circular information desk.

“Excuse me,” Tak said, approaching the desk. “Where can I find information on the cyber age?” It would be a good start. The invention of the PAK kicked off the era.

“That will be section 8792,” the librarian answered. “I’ll call you a browsing cart.”

The librarian pushed a button and a cart zipped up to the desk. It was just a flat, hovering rectangle with a handrail and a control board at the front. Tak and MiMi hopped on and she entered the section number into the control panel.

“By the way,” Tak said, turning to the librarian, “forget I was here.” The spark flashed across her eyes again and the Librarian’s face went blank. Tak hit the start button and her cart zipped off. She arrived at her destination within seconds.

“MiMi, find a data console about PAK invention,” Tak ordered as they stepped off the cart. MiMi saluted and slinked through the aisles. While she waited, Tak sat down at a computer desk. In a few minutes, MiMi returned with a data console marked “Irken Cyber Age Vol. 1”. Tak took and plug it into the computer. She scrolled through the text, skimming over most of it. The information mainly consisted of things any smeet would know. After the control brains were built, they gave the scientists the idea to build the PAKs. These PAKs efficiently distributed Irken knowledge and ushered in a glorious new age of blah, blah, blah…

Yes, every Irken alive knew their basic history. But what about the PAKs themselves? How were they built? How did they work? Tak was beginning to wonder if this was a waste of time. After all, the key to PAK mechanics was Irk’s most guarded secret. She shouldn’t expect to find that information here. In fact, she should be glad that knowledge hadn’t fallen into enemy hands.

She continued to scroll and a picture caught her eye. It showed the five engineers in charge of the PAK project. The face of one particular engineer kept glitching in and out. He was decently tall. Not tall enough to be considered for the upper echelons of tallness, but a good height none the less. His round, purple eyes caught hers and she studied his uneasy grin. The names of each engineer were listed in the caption and one name, Krislotch, glitched in time with the face. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Someone wanted her to pay attention to this guy.

Was it even Krislotch himself? Very well, you have my attention. Now what do you want. She scrolled down a bit further and noticed individual letters glitching as well. A message perhaps? Hidden in the page? What are you trying to tell me, Krislotch?

“MiMi, my tablet.”

MiMi reached into her head and took out a small, metal canister. Tak unfolded it into tablet mode and took out a stylus. She wrote down each letter in order.

A COMPLETE HISTORY OF IRKEN INDUSTRY VOL 13. CHAP 78.

Now this was interesting. It seemed Krislotch left her a little crumb trail. Where it led, she could only guess, but she simply had to follow. She ordered MiMi to find the volume mentioned. When the SIR unit returned, she plugged it into the computer and jumped straight to the designated chapter. Reading through it, she found it was about a factory disaster which resulted in a great number of deaths. Apparently, some worker named Mia, somehow, caused a back up of materials at her station. The machine couldn’t put out new materials, overheated, and caught fire. For some reason, the sprinkler system was disabled, and the fire only spread. Fifty-seven workers, including Mia, died in the accident.

As Tak read the page, she spotted two full sentences glitching. The first gave the number of those dead and the other showed the date. She wasn’t sure why the number of dead was important, but even a smeet a few minutes old knew the significance of the date. This disaster took place exactly 0.1 cycles before Installation Day, the day all Irkens were given their PAKs.

More letters glitched. Put together, they led to a console called “The Irken Cyber Age: a Complete History vol. 1.” They also directed her to a page which, once she read it, confirmed her suspicions. Krislotch did, in fact, want her to know the disaster occurred 0.1 cycles before Installation day. But apart from that, what was the connection?

Yet again, more letter glitched. She’d picked up the trail. Glitching letters led her to a console of Irken History, itself with more glitching letters leading her to the next clue. As she read on, a clear pattern began to emerge. Since the introduction of the PAKs, every major historical event was preceded by a deadly disaster by exactly 0.1 cycles. The historical events mainly revolved around Irken galactic conquest: military campaigns, invasion launches, and the like. The disasters varied widely, but they all had a few things in common. They were all caused by an Irken who then died in the disaster, and they all left fifty-seven dead. Even the names of the Irkens who caused them were similar: Mia, Mib, Mic, Mid, Mie…

The trail stopped before reaching more recent events. The final set of glitching letters gave her the title “An Observatory Study of the Final Days of Ecore,” as well as the coordinates to the console’s location, which rested in a completely different part of Refirencee. She’d waste no time getting there, but something nagged at her.

There must be some current events which fell into the pattern, she thought. Things I would remember. Operation Impending Doom was the obvious answer. It was the most recent invasion launch, but she couldn’t think of any major disasters that preceded it. Then again, the launch date had to be delayed due to… Wait… Was that it? How many died that day? And how long after did Impending Doom II launch? She had to check to be sure.

“MiMi, find information on the original Operation Impending Doom.”

MiMi swept off and quickly returned with a new data console. A quick look confirmed her suspicions. Fifty-seven dead in a rampage caused by disgraced Invader Zim. Impending Doom II launched exactly 0.1 cycles later. It was a close fit, but it wasn’t’ perfect. Zim was alive, for one thing, while the other disaster causers died. Another was the name. It didn’t fit the pattern, unless…

Tak slapped her palm to her forehead. Was the idiot such a complete incompetent that he got his own assigned name wrong?

Surely more answers would be found in the next console.

She and MiMi rode the cart to the closest train station and took the next train to a section called Dead Planets. Once there, they took another cart to the location designated by the glitching letters. As they approached, they found they weren’t looking for a data console at all. The coordinates Tak punched into the cart took them to a section deep in the library. The shelves surrounding them held actual, physical books. Judging by the layers of dust, they were the first lifeforms to enter these aisles in a long time.

They made it to the correct shelf and Tak ordered MiMi to locate the book. The robot found it in matter of seconds and brought it to her. Tak brushed off the cover and opened the book. A small, plastic square fell out and landed on the floor with a clack. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. It was a data storage device not used in ages. This was old technology, ancient even, but whatever was on it must be important. She pocketed it and sat down on the floor to read. As the book wasn’t in Irken, she couldn’t read it without assistance. She tapped the implant on the side of her head and a universal translator monocle popped out, covering her eye. She began to read.

A Note to the Reader

When I began this journey, I had no intention of chronicling the final days of Ecore. It began as an anthropological study to discern what made this once-thriving civilization drop out of contact with the greater solar system. I set up a hidden shelter on the outskirts of Ecorien society and observed from the outside. My discoveries explain, not only the degradation of Ecorien culture, but the death of the planet itself.

Tak poured through the book, wondering what this weak, primitive culture possibly had to do with Irk. The anthropologist wrote about the Ecorien’s devotion to, what he called, “the Many-Eyed God.” Apparently, this new theology was a sharp deviation from known Ecorien culture. In the past, the Ecoriens revered their planet’s natural resources and energy. This new god was completely unheard of.

He also went on to describe the people’s changed appearance. They looked thin and sickly, and aged rapidly. They’d go to their god for supposed cures, but they didn’t seem to do any good. The people never got better from what plagued them, no matter how devotedly they followed their god.

The most fascinating part was a barbaric ritual referred to as a “blood toll.” When the Ecoriens asked their god for a large favor, such as a bountiful harvest or a cure for a plague, the god would order a blood toll. They brought fifty-seven young, healthy Ecoriens before their god and slaughtered them.

Fifty-seven… Fifty-seven Irkens… Fifty-seven Ecoriens… Was this what Krislotch wanted me to see? She read on.

Soon, she reached the final days of Ecore. An uprising broke out among the younger generations of Ecoriens. The blood toll sacrificed many of them and the elders asked the Many-Eyed God for more and more favors as the species grew weaker. The youths fought back against the elders, refusing to be sacrificed. However, the history of blood tolls had greatly reduced their numbers. Relatively few were young enough to be prime candidates for sacrifice, but old enough to fight. The elders overpowered them. The Many-Eyed God ordered the mass slaughter of the younger generations, promising to restore youth and health to the elders.

Youths died by the thousands, from young adults, to children, to infants. At the end of the bloodbath, the Many-Eyed God detached itself from the planet’s core. It drifted into space, leaving the Ecoriens with nothing but the blood on their hands. With the younger generations wiped out, they were doomed to extinction.

Tak turned the page in horrified awe. The last days of this planet were truly a massacre. The Ecoriens, tricked by this god, turned on their own. Their own god used them, sucked them dry, and abandoned them when they had nothing left to give. This wasn’t just the death of a planet. This was the murder of one.

What this massacre had to do with Irk and PAKs, she still couldn’t say, but the number fifty-seven stuck out in her mind. Fifty-seven died in the Irken disasters. Fifty-seven slaughtered in the Ecorien blood tolls. The connection was obvious, but what it meant escaped her. The Irkens had no gods, not for a few millennia at least. They thrived on science, technology, and conquest. It was said, even before the cyber age, that the Irkens bowed to no laws, but made their own. Nothing calling itself a god could gain this kind of influence on Irk.

But when she turned the page, her vail of denial evaporated. She dropped the book in shock. MiMi swept up to her and peered over Tak’s shoulder. The book lay open on the floor, displaying a two-page spread of images of the Many-Eyed God. Some were sketches. Some were photos taken at a distance. All displayed the same familiar entity. She’d looked into these eyes. This “god” encoded her as an elite trainee. She begged this “god” for the opportunity to prove her worth. This “god” denied her and banished her to Dirt, a husk of wasted potential.

The Control Brain and the Many-Eyed God were one and the same.

She stared down at the book as the truth stared back at her. This thing, whatever it was, had wormed its way into Irken society. It controlled them, fed off them. They even had their own blood toll of sorts. In the end, the Ecoriens withered away to nothing. They were sucked dry and left to rot. It was only a matter of time before the same happened to Irk. This thing, the Control Brain, has to be stopped.

The number 10:00 appeared in the corner of her vision and began ticking down. 9:59… 9:58… “My life clock!” How? Why? Her PAK was still attached. It shouldn’t… Wait, the Control Brain. Her PAK emitted a constant stream of information to the Control Brain and she just had a rebellious thought. There was no time to waste.

“MiMi,” she commanded. Almost as an afterthought, she realized her holo-disguise had gone out. “Take me to the ship. Top speed.”

MiMi stretched out her arms, wrapping them around Tak, and propulsion jets burst from her feet. She flew them out of the library, across the planet, and to the parking bay at such a speed, the world became a nauseating blur. By the time they arrived back at the ship, she had less than 8:00 minutes to save herself.

She plugged her PAK into the ship. “Computer, life-supports error check, immediately.”

After a few seconds of scanning, her computer answered. “Life support systems completely shut down.”

Her insides dropped. “Search for the cause.”

A few more seconds of scanning passed. “Systems shut down after a command initiated by the Control Brain remote feedback program.”

It was as she suspected. “Suggested solutions?”

“Remove feedback chip and manually restart system.”

She felt her guts twist and her body broke into a sweat. Remove feedback chip? Every Irken alive knew it was treason to disconnect from the Control Brain. She’d be an outlaw, a traitor. Returning to Irken-controlled space would be a death sentence for her. But I’m going to die right now if I don’t.

She had no choice. If even thinking about saving her planet from this… this… parasite made her a traitor, then traitor she was. She pulled the plug from her PAK and removed it from her back. She had only a few minutes before her organic brain turned to mush.

She opened a compartment of tools and then opened a panel on her PAK. With a set of tweezers, she located the feedback chip and, with a tug, marked herself traitor. Using a shocking fork, she restarted the life support systems. She turned around, the PAK reattached, and her life clock disappeared. Already, she could feel her body reinvigorating, but the weight of what she’d just done fell heavy on her.

Right now, the Armada was receiving an automated notification that Tak, the deserter janitor, had gone traitor. Orders would be issued for her capture or killing. Every Irken in the military would know her face. She could never go back.

And she couldn’t linger here. She and MiMi made quite the scene with their exit. People would come after them. Anyone who managed to get a look as they flew past could clearly see she was Irken. They had to get far, far away from Irk and far, far away from here.

She powered up the engines and flew the ship out of the parking bay, still unsure of where to go. Anywhere in Irken-controlled space was out and word that an Irken was spotted on a Meekrobian-protected planet would soon spread. She had to go somewhere remote, a planet uncharted and ignored by most of the known universe, a place the Tallest would never willingly go.

She let out a roaring, agonized groan as her mind landed on the perfect answer. It was both the safest place in the universe to hide and the last place she wanted to be, especially in this state. Still, she had no choice.

“Computer,” she growled, pinching the bridge between her eyes. “Set coordinates to Urth.”

[fun-and-fandoms]

I Shouldn’t But I Do

Chapter Two: Welcome Home

Masterlist

TWD Masterlist

Let me know what you think!

Summary: Y/n is struggling to survive after being seperated from her group. When she meets Negan her life is changes forever, the question is if it was for the better.

Pairing: Negan x Y/n

Warnings: angst, fluff, anxiety 

“Y/n, time to wake up Doll. We’re at the Sanctuary.” Negan’s voice pulls you out of sleep. Opening your eyes, you realize that he had taken the pillowcase off your head. “Hey sleepyhead, welcome home.”Looking around, you see a massive factory building towering in front of you. Negan had opened your door and was standing next to you, “Come on, I’ll show you around.” Holding his hand out, you grab it and let him help you down. You see a lot of people milling around, you haven’t seen so many people since the end of the world happened. 

Hearing the all too familiar sound of the undead, you look to see a collection of walkers standing outside of the fence. Ripping your hand from Negan’s grip you run away from the fences, you didn’t get very far though. Tripping on a rock you land on your but. Negan realizing what was going on, he chuckles and states “Don’t worry, they’re not gonna get in here. They’re chained to the fence for our protection, the walkers keep out unwanted guests.” 

Negan walks over to you and holds out a hand, taking it he helps you up. “Are you sure they’re not going to get loose?”

“Yes, I’m abso-fucking-lutely sure they’re not going to escape. I have guards watching the perimeter twenty-four seven. Even if one of them somehow manages to escape, they can handle it. Come on let’s …” before he could finish a man runs up to him and interrupts Negan.

“Sir, there’s an issue in the motor yard, we need you there.”

“Can’t you see I’m a fucking little busy here Dwight. Can’t I leave for an hour and not have things go to shit while I’m gone.”

“I’m sorry, but it’s an emergency,” Dwight pleads.

Running a hand over his face, Negan sighs and turns to you. “Sorry Sweetheart but there’s something I have to take care of. I’ll meet up with you as soon as I can. Dwight make sure Y/n here is taken well care of and stay with her until I return, put anything she needs on my tab. Set her up in Adian’s old room, but get someone to clean out his personal belongings before you get her set up in it.” 

You watch as Negan walks away in the direction of what you guess was the motor yard. Turning your attention to Dwight you see him pull a radio identical to the one Negan has. “Hey, Arat.”

“What do you want Dwight?” the radio crackles back.

“I need you to clean out Adian’s room of personal belongings.”

“Why can’t you do it yourself?” Arat questions. Though you had never met the girl, you were already beginning to like her.

“I have to watch over Y/n, the person who’s going to be living in the room. Negan told me to ask someone to do it.” Dwight answers with a tinge of annoyance in his voice.

“The room will be ready in an hour.” 

Dwight turned his attention to you, “Come on let’s get you some food, clothes, and a shower.” Walking in the direction of the colossal building, he motions for you to follow. You quietly follow a couple of steps behind him taking in all the sights. The two of you go up a set of stairs leading to a set of double doors, Dwight holds one of the doors open for you. Walking through it, you’re shocked at the number of people in the large open area. You thought there were a lot of people outside and there was at least double the number of people outside in here. 

“This is the market,” Dwight gestures to the large open area underneath you, pulling you out of your daze. “This is where people buy and sell items and goods. You can buy things with points, the rarer more valued items are the more points they cost. Though if you’re a savior you don’t have to use the point system, Negan will talk about that later. Why don’t we go grab you some new clothes, the ones you’re wearing now look like they’re at the end of their life. After that, we can grab a bite to eat in the cafeteria.” Looking down at your clothes, you realized he was right. The clothes you are wearing were covered in mud and filth and there were several holes in them. 

You followed Dwight around like a lost puppy. If he handed you something, you took it. At the end of following Dwight around the market, you ended up with a wooden basket full of new clothes. Staring down at the basket of clothes, you didn’t realize Dwight had stopped and turned around to face you, running into him you spilled the clothes all over the floor. Getting on your knees, you quickly start picking up the clothing and apologizing to Dwight repeatedly for running into him. When you feel a hand on your shoulder, you look at Dwight to see him looking at you gently with a sad look in his eyes.

“It’s ok Y/n, I’m not mad or upset or anything. It was just an accident and accidents happen.” Dwight grabs the rest of the clothing that was strewn out across the ground and puts them back in the basket. He helps you get off the ground and looks at you curiously for a few seconds before speaking, “You didn’t come from a good group, did you?” Stunned for a couple of seconds at the question he just asked, you nod yes. “Most of the people who have been in bad groups before they come here tend to be on the quiet side. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. It’s not my place to tell. It’s been about an hour, how about I take you up to your room?”

“I’d like that,” you reply smiling. You follow him closely through the labyrinth of a building, talking in all the sights and sounds. Climbing the stairs, you wonder what floor you’re going to be at, reaching a landing Dwight opens up the door which leads to a long hallway, the two of you continue to walk silently together until he stops in front of a door.

“This is you,” He announces, opening-up the door. “Welcome to your new home.” Walking inside you notice a queen-sized bed, a dresser, a bookcase packed with books, a small table,  and a desk sitting in the corner. You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding, this was better than what you were expecting. Better yet, this was nothing like where you were forced to live in your old group. You used to have to sleep on the floor of a tiny, windowless, old storage shed that had locks on the outside to keep you in. “This work for you?” Dwight asks, pulling your attention back to him.

“Ya, this definitely works for me. It’s better than what I could have imagined.” Setting the basket of clothing on the dresser, you walk over to the window seeing people going about their daily lives down below.”

“Great, there’s a bathroom through that door,” he motions to a door you didn’t realize was there. ” Why don’t you take a shower while I grab you some food?” Nodding in approval, you watch as he leaves your room closing the door behind you. Excited to take a shower in God knows how long, you quickly grab a change of clothes, strip, and make your way to the bathroom. In there you find a pile of towels neatly stacked underneath the sink along with some shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. Turning on the shower you were overjoyed when the water started to turn hot. Standing under the relaxing hot water, you think to yourself ‘This would be a pretty great place to call home.’