#I had to saw open the wall to find the pipe (and see how much damage was in the wall)

[solardee]

So the pipe to the toilet just shattered

So that's neat. Also neat that Home Owner's Insurance won't cover anything under 4k

I was so close to having a good buffer in my savingsss *sobs*

[amoreva]

GHOST IN THE WIND

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pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: after a rough turnout of the quest assigned to you, you began to see your ex-boyfriend as the poison slowly kills you.

warnings: angst, post luke betrayal, poisoning, mentions of effects of poison

a/n: so sorry, was taking a slight break on requests for this fic and the fic series that is in the works. I promise i will answer the requests at some point.

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“Medic!” The door to the medical cabin slammed open. The door knob made a hole in wooden walls at Annabeth’s strength. “Will…”

She rasped out, carrying your dead weight. Your breath coming in short bursts as if your lungs couldn’t hold any more air. Veins darkened to the color of night, crawling up your flesh like a parasite itching to take over the host.

“Oh my gods…” Will Solace, head counselor of Apollo Cabin, gasped and helped you onto one of the uncomfortable cots.

You were mumbling nonsense as black liquid dribbled out of your mouth. Will called out your name, desperately trying to grab your attention. Annabeth was standing over you, concerned.

“Oh gods! Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods!” The other Apollo kid on duty piped up, scrambling to find the ambrosia. It was scary how you looked.

It was like something from the Underworld took hold of your body. There was a puncture wound on your abdomen, which was the probable entrance for the poison.

“Hey, hey—stay conscious for me, okay?” Will spoke as your vision began to get cloudy. He can see you withering away and demanded for information.

“Will…” You managed to croak out. Your friend looked at you with worry, to see the brightest camper succumb to an unknown illness was…bone-chilling.

“Don’t sleep—just don’t black out.” Will muttered as you tasted your favorite fruits as ambrosia slid down your throat easily. “Please…I don’t know if you’ll wake up—”

You were out like a light. The ambrosia combating the poison overwhelmed your body. It was too much for your mind to even find a sliver of energy to try and stay conscious.

Your name was shouted, but sleep pulled you away from the medical cabin and throwing you into a different scene.

It was dark, like you were walking in an empty void. “Judgement.”, you think. You must’ve died and was waiting to get judged on whether you can enter Elysium or not.

What a shitty death. Dying from poison, it wasn’t hero worthy nor significant to a war. Just death to some ghastly poison that you were careless to figuring out what it was.

But…it’s not Judgement. It’s not because you see him. He’s walking around in clothes you last remember him in. Orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, khaki pants and sneakers. The beads on his necklace moving each time he walked.

You know he isn’t dead. He Iris-messaged you yesterday to apologize for his betrayal. He can’t be dead. You wouldn’t have it.

“Luke!” You tried to call out, but no sound is made from your mouth. It terrified you. You tried to scream your lover’s (ex-lover’s) name again as you saw claws wrap around Luke from the ground and drag him in.

You tried to scream his name again, running to him, but your legs felt like sludge. He stared at you indifferently, accepting his reality—maybe…maybe just maybe you could save him if you run fast enough.

He slipped between your fingers. His chocolate curls disappearing into the floor of whatever abyss you’re in. You let out a silent, dry sob. If…if you had just noticed sooner…you could’ve saved him.

The same hands wrap around your limbs, tugging you down into the floor. Crying out for help, your heart tightened as if someone had a grip on it—squeezing ever last bit of life out. A sharp pull engulfed you into the void.

You gasped deeply. Body launching forward as you grabbed at your chest. You expected the familiar wood floors of the medical cabin or even Will’s warm smile, but…you were on Half-Blood Hill.

Soft, calloused hands were gently placed in your spine. It doesn’t take an Athena kid to figure out who it was.

“You alright?” His deep warm tone filled your head making yourself dizzy. For moment…you allowed yourself to believe he was here, truly.

“Yeah.” You spoke, surprised to hear your voice again. What happened before becoming less and less memorable as you turned to look at Luke.

“You can tell me, y’know? What’s bothering you.” Luke reassured and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

A familiar smile graces your lips, allowing yourself to relax, you lean up against his chest. “I know.” You mumbled as his toned arms wrap around you. “I just…miss you.”

“Miss me? I’m hardly ever away from you.” Luke playfully teased.

The breeze blew against the two of you causing Luke to squeeze you a little tighter. You always claimed he was a human body heater.

Everything dropped. Faded in an all too quick manner before you could even scream for Luke. He was ripped away from you—but you were supposed to be in his arms.

“Hey! She’s up!” Someone called out.

You mind felt fuzzy. Mumbles, moans and groans tumbled out of your lips. You felt like you were outta your own skin—you jerked. Uncomfortable with this sudden irritation.

Annabeth yelped. The sudden reaction from you almost hit her in the face. Another groan of discomfort and pain escaped. Accompanied by it was another struggle to get whatever was out of your body.

To you, it felt like you were shifting a little to get comfortable. In reality, your body was violently twitching and reacting you hit a few Apollo kids. The veins darker than before, your skin paler than usual. What did this poison do?

“Get her—restrain…I—” Will demanded, worried you’d end up hurting yourself.

You screamed as something grabbed you, someone grabbed you. Your brain could only register it as danger and hurt and agony and—

“Stop it—!” You begged. Your voice sounded demented, as if it was the poison talking.

Black liquid oozed out of your mouth as you begged for whatever to stop. Ambrosia was forced down your throat. Lights were too bright. The panic was defeating.

You fell.

But you felt no pain.

It was “Judgement” again. The endless void surrounding the distinct figure, you. “There you are…” Luke grinned once he spotted you. Your legs carrying you to the Hermes’ counselor before you could think of the action.

The void morphed into the familiar forest used to play Capture the Flag. Luke laced his hand with yours. “S’just up ahead.” He tugged you along.

Once more, you let yourself relax like this was the reality that fate has set and not one where Luke betrayed Camp, betrayed Percy, betrayed Annabeth, betrayed…you.

“Where are you taking me?” You laughed. A bright smile on your face as you maneuvered through the forest.

Slipping through the trees and branches, Luke brings you to the dock. The water washing up on the small beach.

A small cliche red and white checkered blanket laid out across the wooden dock, masking the potential splinters. There was chips and two soda cans on the blanket and six roses bunched up to make it look like a bouquet.

“Oh Luke…” Any confusion or anger evaporated when you saw the scene.

He smiled, smiled that charming grin and pulled you to sit down on the blanket. “Used up the rest of my money for the snacks and to bargain with a Demeter kid for these.”

He held up the six roses. The petals a delicate red, soft as a baby’s bum. They smelled nice. He went through all this effort for you?

“Luke…” You repeat in the same tone and took the roses from his hand. You noticed the thorns were cut off and a couple of band aids were around his fingers.

A show of his effort to rid the thorns so you didn’t prick your fingers.

“This…this is all wonderful.” You said, albeit a bit breathless. The roses, the snacks, the blanket—all the thought put into this date. It made you forget you were dreaming. You should’ve known…this was too good to be true.

But you stayed oblivious and in denial, tackling your (ex) boyfriend in a grateful hug. Luke laughed and wrapped your arm around your waist.

Yet, your subconscious pulled you from the happy moment. An uncomfortable feeling itching to tear your guts and organs to shreds. It was as if your own organs and nerves did not belong there—like they were in the wrong body. A warbled scream left your throat. Hands desperate to claw at your flesh.

You wanted it to stop—you would do anything to get this feeling to stop. Your heart breaking. To be ripped away from Luke again and again. In both subconscious and reality was cruel.

Your veins now tendrils crawling up your face, stopping just a little above your eyebrows.

“Hey, hey—breathe!” Someone comforted. You couldn’t recognize their face. It was like as if your sense of familiarity disappeared, triggering your fight or flight (mostly fight) response.

“Will—the antidote?!” A girl called out. Her voice somewhat familiar.

You struggled against binds. You wanted to run far, far away and stop this pain. The pain in your body, the pain in your mind…the agonizing ache in your heart.

“Luke—” The name left your lips desperate for any sort of answer to what was happening.

A small pinch.

Fire. White hot pain sprouting in your body. Burning your insides out. Another cry for help. Another scream of desperation. His name leaving your mouth. It hurt—it hurt all too much. Both the burning in your body and the reality of him being gone. Truly, gone.

“Luke! Please…please—help!”

Overwhelmed, you were sucked back into the dream. This time on a cabin bed. It was unclear on whose cabin you two were in. Luke had his arms around your waist, head on your stomach. The pain fleeting, but lingering.

The stars shined brights whilst the moonlight blessed you two. It was peaceful, almost…dare you say—normal. No gods, no goddesses, no prophecies, no quests, no betrayal, no hurt. Nothing.

You found yourself humming, running your fingers through his curls, and feeling your eyes close with fatigue.

“Falling asleep there, sweetheart?” You could feel his smile against your skin. He pressed a kiss to the flesh nearest to his lips.

“Mhm…” Your body flared up due to a burn—but there was no fire in the cabin. You stayed put. “I—I could spend all of eternity with you.”

“I could spend all of my time in Elysium with you.” Luke mumbled and turned his head to look up at you.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, then his hands, so he was close to you. Lips connected like hands clasping for prayer. It was soft, yet it spoke a lot of words that he could not get out.

“I love you. Never forget that, okay?” Luke whispered against your lips.

His beaded necklace hovering over you. You placed your arms around his neck slowly and kissed him again. Never wanting the moment to stop.

Even then, you never had the courage to say those three simple words to Luke. Realizing this might be the last time you see him, dream or not. It made you sad he never heard it from you.

Maybe this will make up for it?

“I love you—I love you. I love you.” You repeated. Your voice shaky, holding back tears. This wasn’t real and you know it’s not real—but…you missed Luke. You missed him so much that it hurts. You didn’t believe he would betray Camp Half-Blood and you without Kronos’ manipulation.

“Hey…” Luke cupped your face and kissed your forehead. He grabbed your arms to sit up. It wasn’t good to cry laying down. “Don’t tear up. Everything will be okay, okay? I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? What are you—?”

“I’m sorry, but you have the wake up.” Luke sighed and pressed his forehead with yours.

“Wait—“

“You have to wake up.” Luke grasped your hands. He held you as if this was the last time.

“What?”

“I love you very much and—and I’m so sorry for leaving you there—“

“Luke—wait!”

Your eyes shot up to be met with wooden walls of the medical cabin. Will and Annabeth shot up, ready to take necessary precautions. A dry sob left your mouth.

“Hey…” Will spoke softly.

You sat up, tears cascading down your face. You started to helplessly wipe them. You could feel his touch lingering. His hands grasping yours. Will pulled you into a soft hug when he deducted the poison was out of your system.

The mind is cruel, the poison was cruel. Fate was cruel, life was cruel.

You missed him.

You buried into Will as if it was him. Will and Annabeth thought you were crying because of the overwhelming feelings of what happened when you were poisoned.

You missed him.

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[sarathrwizard]

7 Day Camp Stay. Breaking camp.

Yay! This is it! Got the art done and everything!

Kind of sad it had to end so soon...

Thank you all for commenting, leaving hearts and just reading it in general!

Hope you enjoy the last day! (Under the cut)

7 Day Camp Stay

Breaking camp:

Donnie woke up bright and early. 5:00 in the morning! ... just kidding he slept till 9:45. But this was it! It was packing day. He got out of bed and gathered his stuff together. Donnie checked his phone and the weather said it'd get pretty windy around 2:00 this afternoon. Best that they got the tents down before then.

Donnie went outside to find breakfast. I mean, his breakfasts have consisted of many things. But three times it had something to do with bread and cheese. Surely he would have something different,  right?

So there he was, eating cheese... and bread... boy there wasn't many choices, was there? He didn't care, he'd be home soon enough where he could eat whatever his heart desired. We all know what that is.

The others were starting to crawl out of their cocoons. There wasn't anything planned for the day. If anything, they planned to get home before supper.

About an hour later, unpacking was in full swing. Chairs were being folded up and sleeping bags were being rolled. Mikey spent his time making lunch so that everyone could have the energy. Donnie walked over to the restrooms one last time.

*Flush* went the toilet as he opened the stall door. We walked over to the sink to wash up. Boy, whoever was in here last left a huge mess around the sink. How can you even spill that much water? Donnie was practically stepping in an inch deep puddle in front of the sink. He pocketed the soap and looked underneath the sink to see one of the pipes leaking.

"That would do it."

Donnie confirming to himself. He would fix it if he had his tools. Donnie stood back up to see a giant garden spider right on the lip of the sink, slowly crawling closer to his hand. In a panic, he ripped his hand away with full force, throwing his body weight from one direction to the other way too quickly. His foot slipped from under him and he landed smack dab on the tiled floor. Right onto his bruised hip.

Donnie quickly got up and slid himself away from the sink. Leaning himself on the wall, he checked his hip. Whatever had healed from the last time he bruised it, just got reset. But this time it felt like it hurt worse. Maybe because tile doesn't give like dirt does. Tears were escaping his eyes once more.

"EVERY! SINGLE! DAY!"

Donnie yelled. The walls yelled back at him. Sobs escaped his throat as tears flowed down his face.

"...Why can't I go through one day without getting hurt?"

Donnies voice cracked. Tears dripping off his chin, adding to the already large puddle on the restroom floor. Just then, the door opened. An orange colored coat sleeve poked through.

"Hey, Donnie! I just came to tell you-"

Mikey cut himself off when he saw the distress on Donnie's face, the way he was slouched against the wall, and how he wrapped his hands around his hip. Mikey quickly came over and crouched down.

"Hey, what's wrong, Donnie? Does your hip hurt again?"

Donnie being babied by his baby brother? This was priceless. Donnie needed to keep it together! Cause if he continued to cry, Mikey would start crying too! He tried, he really tried! But he didn't have the energy to tough it out. More tears started dripping from his eyes. He could feel his little brother getting worried. Mikeys fingers tightened, gripping harder to Donnie's coat sleeve.

"I'll be fine."

Donnie said through a sigh.

"Just, please help me get up, okay?"

Donnie asked as politely as he could. Mikey grabbed onto his arm and helped pull him up. He put some weight onto his leg and, yup! It hurt like the dickens! Whoever they are...

Donnie and Mikey slowly made it back to camp, limping along the way. They turned the corner to see the others finishing their lunch. Donnie looked over at Mikey.

"Don't tell the others about my hip."

Donnie whispered. Mikey creased his brow. But Donnie's eyes had a sense of pleading in them.

"Please."

Mikey gently nodded. Donnie got onto his own two feet and tried not to limp as much as he could. Mikey and Donnie made it to the picnic table and sat down to eat. It looked like it was turkey sandwiches one last time. There was so much running around in Donnie's head, he could barely eat. Every bite felt like it was going to choke him.

Mikey must have seen him struggle. He reached out and gently grabbed Donnie's hand. Donnie gripped back harder every time he swallowed. Mikey had finished his sandwich already. He grabbed a cup and filled it with drinking water, then handed it over for Donnie. If Donnie couldn't swallow the food, then he'd wash it down instead.

Lunch felt like it took twice as long to finish. But he got it done, with some emotional support on the side. Leo and Raph were getting more of the stuff packed away. Donnie lifted himself from the table.

"Let me do the dishes."

Donnie said as he got back onto his feet.

"Are you sure?"

Mikey asked, tilting his head slightly. Donnie nodded and got the stuff ready. He started scrubbing, feeling his hip scream in protest. He tried his best to ignore it. He had to ignore it! He wanted to be useful! To help with packing up anyway he could.

The winds started to pick up. Was it 2-o-clock already? Donnie picked his phone up to check the time. It was only 12:40. The winds came early! Donnie looked up to see the others having a heyday with folding up the tents. As Leo and Raph were trying to fold up the tent, Mikey was just having fun wearing the tent fly as a cape.

The pain in Donnie's hip was only getting worse and worse. He could barely stand anymore. Raph was walking by with the tent all folded up and packed tightly into it's zipper bag. Raph must have gotten the big brother tingles again cause he stopped and looked over at Donnie.

"Hey, you doing okay?"

Raph asked as he placed the tent bag down on the picnic bench.

"Yup! Just peachy! Totally not in excruciating pain right now!"

Donnie said through gritted teeth. Raph looked down to see the bruise on Donnie's hip had spread down his leg and looked much darker than it did yesterday. Raph grabbed Donnie under the arms and lifted him up. Donnie wiggled his legs and flapped his hands.

"Hey- no! I'm almost done with the dishes anyway! Just let me finish them!"

Donnie argued, though it wasn't very convincing. Mikey quickly took over doing the dishes. Leo grabbed the tent bag and brought it to the Taxi rockets trunk. Raph carried Donnie over to the car and sat him down in the back seats.

"When did your bruise get that bad?"

Raph asked, his brow creasing. Donnie looked at Raph. Dang, he just wanted to cry again. He hated it when Raph acted like their Dad. But telling Raph what happened was probably a better idea then keeping it bottled up.

"Earlier this morning. Slipped in the bathroom."

"Why didn't ya say anything? I could have handled the dishes!"

"I wanted to be useful! I wanted to help with packing! Not sit on the sidelines because my hip hurt again..."

Donnie hugged his stomach. These emotions were just churning inside of him today! Practically building a home in there! He rubbed his hands together. He felt a hand lay on his shoulder.

"I get it. But there's no harm in asking for help when you need it. That's what I'm here for!"

Donnie looked up at Raph and wiped away a few stray tears with his sleeves. Raph gave him a few pats on the shoulder.

"You can hang tight, we're about done with the packing anyway."

Raph got up to finish breaking camp. Donnie got into his seat properly and leaned his head back. He got some of the dishes done. At least he help with something.

...

The four of them were in the car and had just started on their journey back. Raph was driving, Mikey got the front seat cause he called dibs, so Leo was stuck in the back with Donnie. Donnie was reading on his phone while gently laying his hand onto his bruised hip.

Drip! Drip! Drip! Water sprinkled onto the windshield. Rain? But there was no rain predicted for today? The trickle got heavier and heavier. All conversations stopped. The cabin went silent as all eyes were glued onto the road. The rain was so heavy you could barely see 3 feet in front of you, and it was still daylight!

Donnies stomach clenched as he nervously clung onto the back of the front seat. Raph seamed like he was going to power through it! The Car suddenly swerved. Donnie's heart dropped into his stomach. Oh, the adrenaline was kicking in now!

"What did you do that for!?"

Leo asked as he leaned forward.

"There was a big tree branch on the road. I didn't want to hit it."

Raph said as he kept his attention on the road ahead. Donnie groaned nervously. Leo looked over to see Donnie gripping onto the front seat with his head leaning against it. Donnies cheeks were pinker than usual. that wasn't a good sign.

"Raph, pull over and turn on the hazards."

"Don't worry! Raph's got this!"

"Raph! Please...!"

Raph gripped the steering wheel. He did as told and slowed down to pull over, Flipping on the hazards. Leo unbuckled himself to get closer to Donnie. He wrapped his arms around Donnie and let him lean his head onto his shoulder. Donnie knew it was a mistake to read in a moving vehicle. It always make his stomach turn. But that sudden jolt only made it worse.

The wind knocked against the car, making it slightly sway. Donnie could hear Mikey start to whimper. But Raph was already on top of it. Raph adjusted the seat back to make room for Mikey. Mikey unbuckled and hopped into Raphs lap.

The rain consisted of a shower head on full blast and literal buckets being dumped. Donnie's heart felt like it could start a moter. Fear was creeping around him again. Donnie folded his hands together and closed his eyes. He began to pray. He prayed for so many things. He prayed they would get back home safe. That no one would get hurt. That the roads wouldn't be flooded. He prayed that the pain in his hip would go away. That his stomach would settle down. He just kept on praying.

After a few minutes, the rain began to slow down and the wind calmed slightly. Donnie opened his eyes when he heared the engine starting. He looked around to see the rain was much more gentle now. His stomach felt better too. Leo buckled himself into the middle seat to stay near Donnie. Mikey had crawled back onto his seat and got secured.

They got back onto the road and continued on their way. Donnie sighed and released his hands from his death grip. Boy, his palms were sweaty! Donnie couldn't wait to get home and have some pizza. Donnie's sure the others wouldn't deny him of it. He laid his head a little further on Leo's shoulder and got more comfortable for the journey home.

The end.

_____________

Oh my goodness, that camping trip was relaxing and exhausting all at the same time!

I hope you enjoyed reading, 7 Day Camp Stay!

Lord bless all of you! And thank you again for you comments and likes!

*little happy dance!*

Last

[dayseedrawz2]

My thoughts on episode 3 + theories!!

I'll talk more about this on my YT, but for now here's a tumblr version

(SPOILERS BELOW)

Okay so starting off, my unfiltered thoughts throughout the episode

-They actually spend time together when outside the adventures aww! (Not like they really have a choice, but still neat-)

-Jax being a bitch

-"Zooble turns Straight" Welp, the whooooooole fandom was right!

-Bubbles reversed dialouge. Damn they really don't want those content farms no more.

-CAINE AN POMNI INTERACTION YEAAAA (It was one piece of dialogue I'm so delusional)

-He made this adventure JUST for Zooble cuz they never go and he really wants them to GUYS HES NOT A VILLAN SEE?

-Jax being a bitch

-LUIGIS MANSION REFRENCE FUCKING YESSS

-Wow the visual here are super pretty :o

-...and horrifying

-Jax being a bitch

-I haven't mentioned yet but the lil quirky powers or whatever are cool

-Wow the lore Caine writes for these stories is just like your average artist who torments their OCs (he so me fr)

-2D ANIMATION!!! Also Kinger and Pomni being like the funniest duo ever

-HOLY FRICKLE FRACKLE THEY DEFINITELY DID NOT WANT CONTENT FARMS TO FIND THIS EPISODE

-the monster is awesome looking tho

-THE THERAPY SESSION SEGMENTSS AAA

-Also Caine has a Trans flag hanging somewhere in the circus neat

-He forgot he could use his powers to just teleport Zooble to him lol

-Back to the spooky stuff

-Wow Kinger can actually use a gun! (Never thought I'd be saying that sentence-)

-KINGER AND POMNI GO TO ACTUAL HELL WHILE THE REST JUST HAVE A TEA PARTY WITH MARTHA

-Also JAX IS TIED UP BAHAHAHA

- "You know how men are, always having the silliest priorities..." "Heh, dont i know it!" I think the bunny doll shippers really like that scene

-Zooble has some sorta body dismorphia and has opened up about it to Caine multiple times seems like

-Uhh Caine... you okay buddy? CAINE YOU GOOD BRO? CAI

-CAINE HAS EMOTIONS/SELF AWARNESS CONFIRMED???

-Pomni gets fucking posessed ok

-now we know why it looked like kinger was hitting Pomni with the shotgun

-KINGER AND QUEENIE WERE MARRIED CONFIRMED???

-Father daughter bonding aww...

-I love how the whole fandom took one good look at Ragatha and went:

GAY GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GA-

-also Pomni and Ragatha are on good terms now aww...

-Caine and Zooble Should Pass that pipe from ep 2 and legitemently vent to each other

-Jax is pissed because the Jester actually had a good fucking day for once lmao stay mad

-NOW WE KNOW WHY HE STAYS IN THAT PILLOWFORT IM GONNA FUCKIN CRY NOW

Overall, this was definitely my favorite episode so far! The team is getting better each and every episode! SOOO much happened here!! I'm super excited to see what happens next!!

Okay, THEORY TIME!!

-Okay so to start lightly, so far, all the episodes we've seen contain:

Gangles mask breaking

Jax breaks the 4th wall

A cute/sad heart to heart conversation or interaction

A reference to angels or god or Christianity in some way

Interesting right?? Wonder if this keeps up...

-On the topic of Christianity, I saw a theory saying that if it's true that the gang developed the game (which may be true because of that computer science line), When Pomni says "I knew it would end up like this... He just wants me to suffer..." she may not be referring to Caine, but her Boss at CnA.

If that boss exists and is NOT named able, Imma be mildly upset-

-Okay, Alot of people have been talking about Jax being an NPC, and I wanna bring up my opinion on this:

As I mentioned earlier, he always breaks the 4th wall, witch could be seen as a character in a game being like "What do YOU think?" *Insert Game Options here*

I saw another theory saying that if this is true, Jax might be self aware or sentient to some degree, and This is why he tortures everyone. He knows that this world Revolves around the players and nit him so he wants to make them more miserable.

-OKAY, NOW WHAT (I) WEVE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR... THE WHOLE DEAL WITH CAINE GLITCHING OUT AN' STUFF!

As one of many Caine angst connisuars on this platform, I really enjoyed this scene...

Caine knows that he only exists to make adventures and if he can't do it well enough than he serves ZERO purpouse and his existence is useless... (he's just like me fr)

This has SO MUCH POTENTIAL FOR A SERIES FINALE.

Since in each episode we've (mostly) seen a character being comforted (mostly Either Pomni being comforted OR someone being comforted BY Pomni)

What if the last episode had Caine and Pomni having a heart to heart?

(Shutup this is not about showtime I swear let me have this-)

Someone abstracts, (Ragatha or Kinger probably,) and it's Caine's last straw. He finally breaks and the circus goes into ruins. Pomni does her best to comfort him. This could go one of two ways:

Either she sucseeds and happy ending for everyone :D

OR, they fail and The Circus is destroyed, Taking Caine down with it.

Maybe then that would be how they escape cuz if Caine is emotionaly attached to the circus, it would be completely destroyed or erased if Caine finally broke...

The angst potential is crazy...

This is terrifyingly close to what I wanted to do with R-M AU UHHH I MEAN-

Anywayyyy I believe that's all! If yall have anymore theories lemme know!!

[orphiceonian]

˗ˏˋSILVERV WEEK: HOME´ˎ˗

read on ao3

written for @silverv-week

“Megabuilding 10, eh?”

V let out a groan as his voice crackled through the confines of the rickety elevator. He could tell she was not in the mood for his idle chit chat—not when she had a pounding headache and a ringing in her ears that permeated every thought.

“Yeah it’s a shithole Johnny, I’m well—fuckin—aware.” She gritted as the elevator grate opened and she stepped out. 

“Someone is in a bad mood.” The rockerboy muttered, walking in stride with her as she weaved through the bustling lobby. Rarely was she in a good mood. It was always a grumpy one with a smattering of misery. He couldn’t blame her—dying wasn’t a matter many people were happy about. 

He felt the merc fight the urge to bite back at him—again—exhausted at the thought of using her precious mental energy to argue with him. 

V stepped inside the second elevator that would take them up to the higher levels of the building. She leant against the wall of the old metal cage and punched in the code for rooftop access. The gears and wheels of the elevator began to churn as it lifted them both higher into the building. 

“Remember seeing this place from The Atlantis. Big monolith breakin’ up the skyline with a big ole ten on the front. Didn’t think much of it then.” Johnny spoke, eyes fixed on the graffiti that decorated the interior of the lift as they whizzed by the residential levels. 

“Hell are you on about?” V spoke, eyes closed and jaw clenched. 

“Just find it interesting that without knowin’ it, saw where you’d end up livin’.” He hummed, looking over at her.

V frowned at him as the lift drew to a stop, “Clearly saka fucked with your memories then. These buildings weren’t built till after you blew up the tower.” She muttered and stepped out of the elevator and out onto the service corridor. 

He snapped to attention at her words, watching as she walked down the narrow corridor as if she hadn’t just thrown his worldview into question. 

The building had been there. He had seen it clear as anything when he pulled up to The Atlantis to ask Rogue for help getting Alt back from Arasaka. Its blocky form dominated the city skyline—a behemoth of concrete and steel that housed a thousand individual lives and stories. 

Johnny followed along behind her, thoughts ticking over in his head as they silently walked down the hallway. V pushed open a hatch and stepped out onto the windy rooftop of the megabuilding. She ducked under some exposed pipes until she found the spot where she usually sat. 

Johnny glitched over the plastic chairs just as she sat down to run diagnostics on her cyberware. It had become a habit of hers since the relic. Vik had warned her to be extra vigilant about the status of her chrome and how it interacted with the relic. Now after every job she spent a full hour scanning her subsystems for any signs of abnormal degradation. 

V looked at him, tell-tale shimmer of orange light ghosting across her optics. She blinked the lights away, tilting her head as if waiting for him to speak. 

“There were there, swear it.” He pressed, watching as she connected her neural link to the deck. 

“Probably just the relic buggin’ then. Like with the graffiti I keep seeing.” She shrugged as she spoke. 

Johnny could tell she was hiding something from him. It felt like a thought lurking in the back of his mind—unable to be fully formed.

He studied her face for a moment, eyes dragging over the smooth contours and the glimmering EMP threading that marked her cheeks. Her eyes were back to their unsettling orange colour as she scrolled through the lines upon lines of diagnostic data that streamed through her deck. 

“Something you’re not letting me know.” He spoke, words coming out more bitter than he anticipated. Her bad mood was rubbing off on him, twisting his intrigue into something ugly. 

“There is a lot you don’t know, Johnny. Like to keep it that way.” She disconnected the link with a sigh, “It’s probably just a flaw in ‘saka’s code. When they built the environments around your memories, accidentally added in present day Night City ‘stead.” V leant back in her chair and propped her feet up on an overturned crate. 

“Always the logical explanation with you.” He muttered and sat down in the chair next to her. From this height he could see most of Night City and a fair amount of the expansive badlands that surrounded it. If he wasn’t so much of a cynic he would have called it beautiful. 

Johnny pulled his eyes off the horizon and over to the merc when he felt a prickly sensation dance through his. He watched as V took a drag of a cigarette, her eyes fixed on the view. 

He could feel her mind working—could feel it ticking away as her brow furrowed in thought.

She was quiet for a moment and then took a small breath, “Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing this city through your eyes. I see a building and I wonder ‘how long has that been there?’ only to realise it’s always been there.” 

Johnny raised a brow at her, “You sure Arasaka didn’t change your memories?” 

“Well technically they did. You in my head, overwriting my memories. Changing them. That’s what the relic does.” He noted the melancholic tone in her voice. The dread that came along with the relic and the fear she felt everyday as the prospect of slowly becoming someone else. 

He glanced over as she took another drag, “So me seein’ your megabuilding…?”

She goes silent again, brow knitted in thought as the ideas tick over in her mind, “Sometimes I see this house. It’s got yellow linoleum tiles in the kitchen and brown shag carpet in the lounge. Pictures on the wall and it’s got this…coldness to it despite looking warm.” V looked over at him then, eyes filled with an emotion he can’t quite read, “Your home?” 

He nodded and sucked in a sharp, artificial breath through his teeth, “It’s where I grew up in Texas. Never really felt like home though.”

V nodded and took a drag, eyes fixed on the horizon and the glimmering light of the city. He watched how the light danced over her face and the breeze moved her fading pink hair. 

He could feel her sour attitude dissipate into melancholy as her mind pulled long forgotten memories to the forefront and put them on repeat for both him and her to see. He caught a few glimpses of a small apartment, bloodied broken knuckles and an anger that burned hot in his chest.

“Tried to make a home in Atlanta…didn’t work out how I thought it would.” She mummed, his question answered before he even spoke it. They didn’t speak much about her time in Atlanta. It was a wound that was still healing and it was better for the both of them if he didn’t prod at it. 

“Used to think home was a place. Four walls and some windows. Then I realised it was people. So my home became gangs and criminals. Then for a while, Jackie was my home. Felt like the brother I never had and then I got him killed.” Her voice cracked at her mention of Jackie’s name–yet another wound that still hadn’t healed.

Johnny watched as her eyes shifted again from sadness to bitterness, “Makes sense that this shitty town full of shitty people feels like home to me.” She snarled at the skyline and took another drag of the smouldering cigarette. 

“You're not a shitty person V. Trust me. I’m an authority on the topic.” He sat back in the plastic chair and took in the sounds of the city around them. The hum of energy and the whirr of cooling fans that made up the frequency of Night City. 

He shared her sentiment. Night City was a cesspit of crime, corruption and cruelty. After the war it had felt like a reprieve from the patriotic propaganda he had been spoonfed all his life. He had seen enough of her memories to know that growing up in this city hadn’t been easy and all in all, she was well adjusted and empathetic for someone who had grown up surrounded by violence and gangs. 

“Do–do you think the reason why you saw the megabuilding and why I saw your home…think it goes beyond the relic?” She spoke, voice laced with that same nervous energy he heard he speak to Judy with. It’s like a kid admitting a crush or an awkward fan gathering up the courage to speak. 

Johnny pulled in another sharp breath. He didn't need to ask what she meant by her words–fuck he can feel it. He can feel it bubbling up in the back of his throat, realisation choking him. He knows how she felt because he felt that way about her–felt like their connection went beyond the relic. 

“I think…I think I’m changing cause of you. For the better.” He spoke and looked over at her. He felt his heart clench at the look on her face–it's somewhere between fear and admiration. 

It’s that look that sealed the deal for him. A deal he had been thinking about since the oil fields. 

Both of them were going to make it out of this nightmare–alive and together. 

His home was with V and he’d bring that tower down again to make sure it stayed that way. 

[veintrry]

winter greetings and their departures.

wanderer x gn!reader, sweet & soft fluff, emotional angst, loss, memory loss.

warning! minor spoilers for wanderers backstory and major spoilers for 3.3 sumeru story quest. 4.3k words.

an: hi this is me b4 writing this and i feel like this is gonna ruin me.

edit: I'm ruined. I hate everything. part 2!

There was never much that Winter would bring to Snezhnaya, after all, it was always winter here. From the piping hot delicacies, the layers of clothing, the deep inches of snow. You practically didn't need to wait for Winter to come. However, what it does bring is gifts, and one day you received a puppet at your doorstep, unbeknownst to you that is.

A couple of weeks ago you had found a boy slumped up against the wall of your house. Seeing this as you hummed to yourself planning to spend the day shopping, you obviously were surprised at the figure that donned a large hat and light clothing sat unconscious against the wall. At first you had assumed that maybe it was a drunk who didn't know better, however, after feeling his temperature, you decided to leave the pondering for later.

After a tough struggle of getting him into your home, you laid him on your couch, draping him in multiple blankets. Immediately after doing so you put a hand to feel for his pulse but nothing came through and panic surged through your body. You tried feeling for his heart but nothing beat underneath your palm and there was no sign of his chest ever having been raising up and down, even back when you found him outside. Had he died out in front of your house that long ago? You felt guilty for not being there soon enough but you were wondering just for how long had he been out there? Why did no one help?

You didn't exactly know what to do till you saw him open his eyes, sending your body stumbling backwards as you yelped form the horrifying sight. He's dead. He's meant to be dead. "Who the hell are you?" This doesn't happen to dead people does it? God, please, what possession occurred within your home? "You're alive?" You inched near him. "Of course I'm alive, have you ever seen a dead person before or should I show you one?" Despite his threats you were relieved to know he was well, "Oh my god, you're alive." You say as the weight leaves your shoulders. "I couldn't feel your heartbeat so I thought you had died by now." You don't notice the way his face scrunched at your words.

"Who are you?" You know, he was awfully direct for someone who was drunk prior. "I'm the person who had to drag you out of the freezing cold." You tell him your name as you expect a form of thanks or emotional gratitude but it never comes. "Do you want me to get on my knees and pledge loyalty to you?" Maybe you should've left him to die.

—

But you didn't, that's why you were here now, eating dinner together like you do every day.

You came to find that the young man, who's name you came to find out is Scaramouche, was not as bad as you thought he was despite his horrible personality. In fact, he was good company once you adapted to his way of speaking. He clearly isn't as direct about his emotions as you thought he was.

You would say you two had become good friends since the incident that occurred, although, he's never really told you how he ended up there. You always thought he was too embarrassed to admit what occurred, after all he has a lot of pride, but you've come to realise he doesn't enjoy alcohol, not unless he seems to be in a bad mood. You never wished to pry onto what happened for him to end up in such a state so you let it be.

"It tastes good right?" The question leaves your mouth excitedly as you expect to be praised. It had been the first time you were the one who made dinner because ever since the first time he met you he decided you were too careless and 'might try to poison him' if he lets you do the cooking. But, after some haggling, you managed to persuade him. Most likely because he seems to have grown a soft spot for you. "It's fine."

Your spoon hitting the bottom of the bowl. A silence overcame the room. The dish before you two was goulash, but not just any goulash, no, it was Your Special Goulash recipe. You had mastered this recipe to perfection, no, more than perfection, it is a goulash so good the Archons would be astounded. "Liar." You bitterly said. "What, you seek more praise?" He spoke, his voice was somewhat laced sweetly with honey as though to further taunt you. "Yes. Yes, I do. This is years of work, it is more than fine, it is magnificent!" You take strong pride in your skills when it comes to cooking and it won't be undermined. "I think it's pretty average." "Average?!" You repeated with astoundment.

One could say you were almost this close to jumping over the table at this blasphemy. He was clearly taking much amusement in your behaviour. "Yeah, I bet I could make a better gou-" His sentence is cut short by a spoon being forced into his mouth and he feels the warm liquid seep into his mouth, the seasonings it carries covering his tongue. His gaze stays stuck to your hands and his eyes are wide. You could easily tell he was astounded and you began to smile happily, but his shock didn't come from what you thought it did. He raised his sights onto you, and your stupid face.

Scaramouche felt his face grow warmer, and it wasn't frustration at your actions but something else. You take note of this and your eyes seem to glimmer, at this he pulls your hand away from him, thereby removing the spoon as he swallows. "So you do like it!" You're so dumb. Such an idiot you are. His hand is raised to his face as he mumbles something but you don't hear him, and you ask him to repeat it, repeat what you know will be the praise you deserve. "I said...It's too hot."

"...What." You stand still, disappointed once more. "It's goulash, it's meant to be hot!" And to your surprise, he mimics the same volume as you. "Well, it's too hot!" "You just don't know genius when you see it!" Taking a seat back down harshly. "Ha! I see it in the mirror every day." Crossing his arms as he bites his bottom lip, as though trying to keep his own resistance against something, making himself appear frustrated despite the colour of his ears. "You wish. Just eat up." You huff, biting your own food.

"Whatever." And he does the same as you, but with each bite he takes he stays more and more focused on what you did. You're so careless. Do you ever think prior to acting? He chuckles to himself, and you raise a brow but don't ask anything.

You both continue to eat peacefully.

—

Scaramouche had begun to act oddly. It's small things he does that have changed.

He used to cling onto you, he wouldn't directly ask for it but you'd give him it and he'd welcome it despite his complaints that you're too touchy, "You better not do this with anyone else." He'd say to you. And whenever you tried to leave his grip he'd pull you back in, asking you what you thought you were doing leaving him like that. He used to always keep you in his sights, he'd stay reading a book somewhere in the room just to make sure he can also keep an eye on you. But now, he seems too busy, too worried, with something, you aren't entirely sure what. You've asked him about his behaviour but he brushes it off, acting as though you're imagining things.

You question why he feels more distant nowadays, why even after having known each other for a long time now it feels like you're back to being strangers. Despite always being the more honest one out of the two you didn't want to admit to him that you missed having him there, with you. Yes, you two still lived together, but, although you don't want to admit it, you missed his touch.

It's an odd thing to say that you lost someone when they're always with you, it's kind of like having an anchor tied to you, yet the rope isn't tied around you, it is in you. You are one.

You wanted to figure out what's wrong, to sort things out. So you decided you'd try again, that you would do your best.

"Scara?" You called, peaking your head into his room. His answer was quick and to the point, not bothering to stare back at you. "What is it? I'm working on something." You pranched towards where he was sitting, attempting to peer over his shoulder, glimpsing at what he was working on before he abruptly hid it. You feel your brows furrow as you bite your tongue. Why was it that he suddenly began keeping things from you? You can recount exactly when it started. It wasn't like he shared everything with you, nor did you expect him to, but he didn't go out of his way like this.

You straightened your back. It was better to simply be straightforward with him. "What are you hiding?" Your voice was flat, there is no reason for there to be anything other than suspicion. "Nothing." Quick as always to cover up, but unlike other times he might have lied to you, this time his eyes didn't meet yours, they stayed focused on the ground.

You fisted your hands, annoyance surged through your body, but another part of you felt differently. You felt disappointed, not in him, but yourself. You somehow felt you had done something to cause this, to have him leave you behind. It felt slightly hollow. How can you blame him when you want to so badly just forgive him for whatever it is?

"Scara," You started, and the words threatened to never continue sounding out, to stay confined in your throat, suffocating you. But once he glanced up at you, anticipation in his orbs, you knew he was aware, aware that he had done something. If so, why hasn't he done anything regarding it? Regarding how he neglected you. You barely eat together anymore, he's too busy. "Please, just tell me, what's wrong?"

Truth is, he did wish to tell you, but then your idea of him would shatter. Everything you saw would fall apart. He can't have that, he doesn't want you to hate him, he can't take that. "Is it something I did?" No, no, no. God, no. He finds himself denying it repeatedly in his mind, the guilt seeping into his body, realising that you might have been blaming yourself the entire time. The last thing he'd want is for you to denounce yourself in his stead. He knows what he's doing. He knows what he has been doing to you and he knows it's cruel and awful, but he has to, he has to. He's done worse so why was this most bothersome for him?

"Did I ever say that?"

"No, you didn't. But, what else am I meant to think." You were the one who suffered the consequences of his actions. He expired a heavy breath, before admitting his thoughts, putting aside his usual act. "You're right. No, you didn't do anything. You never did. I'm simply caught up with some stuff."

"What stuff? You keep saying you're busy but you never tell me what. I'm… starting to get worried. I don't know what you're doing but if you have to go out of your way to hide it from me then it mustn't be good."

He didn't respond, only blankly blinking at you. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking till he stood up, his following words cut through not only the tension that had built up but you as well.

"I plan on leaving."

"What, where?! Why?!" You couldn't wrap your head around why he'd make such a plan, or why he would have to, nevertheless want to. "I have something I need to do. It's important to me." Important to him. Important to him? Why had he never mentioned it and why does he only bring it up now. He still continues to be discreet about his actions despite clueing you in with small tiny drops of information. But you didn't want the info, you wanted to know when it would end. "Then is it more important than you and I?"

It was as important on its own as he was. And since they were tied, if he were to say it is then he'd be saying he's worth more than you. He wouldn't want to put you down. No, you meant the world to him, you were so beautiful, you were wonderful and full of life but in a way he felt like he didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve this warmth, your warmth. You were the world but his vision was much bigger, he was a god, this is his birthright. If you'd listen to him, if you could understand, if you could trust him. Trust him blindly without a second thought. That's what he wishes to ask of you, he doesn't want to cause you any more pain but this is necessary for him to achieve. "Yes. It is."

He didn't need to hear your words to know how you felt, every part of your face said it. The misery, the burning, aching misery that swirled within those orbs of yours. How your body tensed, your jaw clenched tighter, and your brows raising higher in astonishment. A laugh leaves your throat, a scratchy bitter chuckle, and he hates it. "I see. Okay, I get it." It was clear he had already decided to dispose of you, that whatever this other thing was is more valuable, it matters most, not you. You feel as though you've been shot, the emptiness filled with disappointment and shame at him and yourself for ever thinking he'd have chosen you. You step away, and move towards the door. He says your name, it sounds almost pitiful, and you are hesitant to glimpse at him. You're weak, at this point what do you have to lose. You both know the end.

So you turn, you face him once more. Now you are the one to observe him, watch the way his face scrunches at your expression, how his fists are clenched. His mouth agape as no words leave his mouth yet you see it in his eyes, how he pleads you to stay, begs you to forgive him. You wish to think it isn't how he said it was. Scaramouche always had a tongue that defied his thoughts. But you wanted to hear him say it was you. It never came. No words came. Nothing but silent mouthing, as though he was whispering to you, knowing that if he spoke his voice would break. 'I love you.' And you see the way his shoulders drop, his orbs following the slightest of movements you make. You can't find it in yourself to say the words back. You only gaze at him as though he was the worst man you had known, and he might've been. To your disdain, you didn't hate him at that moment, you pitied him, and you hated yourself for feeling sympathy for that man.

You left without a word said, but you both knew each other well enough to know what you both were thinking.

After that, everything was quiet. There was no more tension. You didn't bother asking the Archons or a deity for help. What good would it be to ask a higher being for help, does that not only prove how dire your situation is, how pathetic it is? You didn't need the Archons, you will adapt as you always do.

One day, everything became all the more quiet. And you realised how much comfort you took in his company. You were truly alone now. It's just you.

You stare blankly at his door. You sit against it like you have done a thousand times, and you pretend he is just working again.

—

Not once did you enter his room. You didn't want to know what he took, because you feel its empty space in your chest, and you didn't care for what he left because you felt it in the silence as you monitored the items he touched for any traces of him like an owl, never blinking.

You were once again at his door, knocking thrice and awaiting any sound to erupt from the room but you only had the peace of no noise return. And yet you hated it, you felt frustrated. To you it was never placid because you could hear your thoughts echoing throughout the rooms, his name tormenting you, following you. How could one forget him, with a face like that, a personality so annoying like that? And yet you loved it; you loved him.

The day he left the snow had already erased all footprints he might've left behind, you would think that maybe that's why you feel his ghost here constantly. But it's likely your delusions.

Today, you'd enter. You wanted to feel him. To remember what it was like to have him. You didn't wish to forget him. The numbing coldness of the metal on your palm became evermore permanent as your hand seemed to refuse to budge. What had he done to have put me in such a state? You think it's funny.

You turn the knob, and push the door open.

White. So much white. The glacial weather was near enough to numb you, but that was not why you stood paralysed. You felt tears twinkle in your vision, before departing and travelling down your cheeks.

Snow. It's all snow.

He had left the window open. God, he probably never left out the door.

You stayed still as you processed this. Your mouth agape as your eyes stayed glued onto the sight before you.

It always snows in Snezhnaya, so why was this so much more painful?

It's torturous. It's horrible. It's pure torment. Yet it is such a beautiful sight to you, it is home to you and you hate it.

Your eyes wander around to where all the snow particles have fled to: The bed he slept on, the cabinets, his desk. The desk he worked at.

You walk closer, you feel your feet dip into the snow. You study his table, only a match, a bottle of ink, and a letter. He left a doll next to it.

You spent the entire day there, cleaning the snow out, and you left everything else untouched as you shut yourself in there just as he had, reading the letter where he had written it and then, you cried. You cried till your weeps went mute. Your attempts to stop your tears continuously failed. You hate him. Every aspect of him. And you hated how well you knew him.

—

'My dear,

I know it's shameful of me to say goodbye like this. I don't want to see what face you make.

I'm going to Sumeru, I'm going to fulfil what I was meant to be. Then, I'll come for you.

I'll be stronger then, I'll protect you from everyone, so this time let me save you instead. Wait for me, I won't take long.

I love you. Next time I see you I'll seriously say it. Thank you and I'm sorry, for all that I caused you. I'll make sure to repent with the rest of my life.

(I hope you like the puppet. It was made for you.)

Yours Truly,

Scara.'

—

It seemed that the weather only grew colder day by day in Snezhnaya. You had developed a pretty steady routine which was unusual for your normal self and today was your special day, today you got to spend a day treating yourself to all things nice. You've worked hard this week after all.

So, you walked out to the hallway dressed and ready to go, hurrying past the guest room and putting your shoes on, wrapping yourself with a scarf as your gloves turned the knob of your door. You leaped out of the house excitedly, only to catch yourself on your foot as you found someone standing at the right of your door.

A beautiful face was what you were met with, you felt the air knock out of you as you stumbled back. You didn't spot how the man smirked at the sight of this, nor would you know the relief it gave him to see you still the same. "Did I frighten you?" He wanted to test the waters, just out of curiosity, just so maybe, maybe it's fine, maybe you're an exception.

"No- I mean, yes? You did. I'm sorry, who are you?" For a second his face dropped into a sour expression, but he returned himself to his previous composer. "You ought to be ashamed. To think you'd forget me after I told you to wait for me." His words were a whisper but despite their gentle tone their weight laid heavy on him.

"Pardon? I couldn't hear you…"

He resented himself for what he was going to say and he was internally cringing and god he hates you for having him say something so dumb, but if this was a sick joke maybe he should appease you.

"I'm just a wanderer, that's all. Sorry, you wouldn't happen to know where I could find the best goulash?"

"The best goulash in Snezhnaya?! That's a hard thing to decide… Well, there's a diner down far by the town's heart. I'm heading there so you could join me if you'd like?"

Kind-hearted as always. An idiot to the core. But so was he for thinking that you'd offer him, a stranger, your secret recipe. Yeah, he should've cherished it when he had it. It was good, really good, and your face was pretty too, stupidly pretty.

He studied your outfit. Layered and thick as always, a contrast to his. You had yourself packed warm but that wasn't what he was focused on, you had a messenger bag strapped across your chest, and off it he saw the puppet he gave you. It was his.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, pointing at it and ignoring your offer.

You found everything about this so-called wanderer odd. But when he asked about the puppet you had attached to your bag you couldn't quite recall when you got it. "I'm not sure… maybe it came with the bag? Sorry, is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No, nothing else. One thing though," You piped your head up, and he swallowed his pride. He didn't want to lie to you, even if you don't remember it now, he doesn't want to lie to you. But he never realised how much of a difficult thing to say it was, especially when you don't remember. Could he say he loves you, does he have the right anymore?

"Wanderer?"

"I… love you." He could feel that same heat that would always arise within him coming back once fourth. He tilted his ichimegasa down to hide his face, spitting out his next words quickly. "I'll be departing now!" This had been the first time that you knew that you saw him flustered, or that you've met him which made his words more absurd to you, but you felt almost flattered to be told that by someone so pretty. It was such a simplistic way of thinking. Then his words register once more, and you look at the chained puppet, unlocking it as you gaze at it. How alike they were.

How strange, how weird it was, the gaps in your memories, the guest room in your house, the puppet that looks like him, him acting so weird towards you, so casual.

You begin to wonder if this was really a mistake.

—

Despite the flustered emotions he first felt, he quickly let them pass, realising you'd simply think nothing more of him than him being some creep. Ha, to think he'd settle for such a thing so easily.

To think he'd settle for this so easily. What was he meant to do? What should he do? Tears welled within his eyes as he walked, and he hoped that even if the snow covers his trails it never erases what's already beneath.

He made a gigantic mistake. One he has to atone with the rest of his life. Unfortunately, it appears it isn't with you. He was ready to spend the next hundred years being pestered by you. But to be rid of that was an even worse punishment.

The wanderer won't tamper with your life. He wouldn't do such a thing to you. Despite his many wants to, his need to be with you, he won't. Because it is he himself who made himself land in such a position. Maybe rather than having shown up like that he should've recreated everything from the beginning, maybe then you would behave just as your stupid self normally would. Supplying him with warmth, dumb comments, annoyance, affection, care, humanity. Humanity. God, you had already made him a person long ago.

What should he do, what should a lost wanderer do when his home doesn't look at him the same. When those familiar eyes only return an unknowing look, a clueless, foreign stare?

How long does it take to rebuild a home, to rebuild the love you once carried for him?

The snow continues to seep into the room like sand filling up an hourglass. The doors knob has icicles on its insides and the inks long gone solid. All that remains is the opened envelope and the letter it contained, with stained tears. Another tightly sealed letter beside it.

[happyprincesscycle]

Grump and Pupp series:

Butcher'ed Mission (see what I did there 😏 lol)

Characters: Billy Butcher, reader, M.M, Frenchie, Hughie

Summary: You and The Boys were on a mission, and despite your well intentions, you ended up causing trouble for them 🫠

--------------------------------------------------

The Boys were on a mission, involving dangerous people (as per usual), and a lot of things that could go wrong. So Butcher had one clear instruction for you: stay out of the way!

You tried, you really did. But with all the excitement, secrecy, and, let’s face it, a bit of impatience, staying out of the way was easier said than done.

The team had infiltrated a heavily guarded warehouse where Vought was rumored to be storing something very valuable. The plan was simple: get in, find the goods, and get out without drawing too much attention. Simple, that is, until you got involved.

The Boys were moving stealthily through the dark corridors, Butcher leading the way with Hughie, Frenchie, and M.M. close behind. You, however, were at the back, bouncing with barely contained energy.

"Oi, remember what I said, y/n," Butcher whispered over his shoulder, his voice low but laced with authority. "No messin’ about. We’re in and out, quiet as a mouse."You nodded vigorously.

“Got it. Quiet as a mouse.” you said as you mimed to zipping your lips shut.

That was the plan, really, but as the group crept closer to the main storage area, you couldn’t help but feel the urge to contribute. I mean, sure, you weren’t exactly a trained agent, but you had started training with Billy since he had figured if you were gonna stick to him like a gum under the shoe so he might’ve as well taught you a few things to protect yourself, you had learned a few tricks, you could be useful, right?

The moment came when the team reached a locked door. Frenchie was about to pull out his tools to pick the lock when you suddenly piped up.

“Hey, I bet I can open that!” you said, way too loud for Butcher’s liking.

Frenchie paused, tools in hand, and turned to you, one eyebrow raised. “You know how to pick locks?”

“Well, no… but I’ve seen it done in movies! How difficult can it be?”

Butcher’s patience snapped. “Just leave it to the professionals, eh?”

But before he could stop you, you pulled out a booby pin off your hair and shoved it into the lock. It didn’t go well.

The bobby pin got stuck, and you fumbled with it, making more noise than anyone on a secret mission should make.

“Bugger me sideways…” Butcher muttered under his breath as M.M. rubbed his temples in frustration.

Just then, an alarm blared through the warehouse, red lights flashing down the hallway.

“What the hell did you do?” M.M. shouted over the wailing siren.

“I don’t know!” you shouted back, panic setting in. “Maybe the bobby pin triggered something?”

“No time for this! We’ve got to move!” Butcher barked, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you along as the team sprinted down the corridor.

The Boys scattered, trying to find an alternate route to the goods while dodging security guards that were now flooding the warehouse.

You tried to keep up, but your nerves were all over the place.As the team took cover behind some crates, trying to regroup, you peeked out to see what was happening.

“Butcher, I think I saw a way out through—” you started, but Butcher cut you off.

“Enough with the bloody thinkin’! You’ve done more than enough!” Butcher snapped, his usual gruffness now tinged with real anger. “Do us all a favor and keep yer gob shut before you get us all killed!”

You winced, feeling guilty and a bit hurt, but you knew he was right. You’d messed up. Big time.

The Boys were in a tight spot now, with guards closing in. Butcher was trying to figure out a way to salvage the mission when you spotted something—a lever on the wall labeled "Emergency Ventilation Release." Without thinking, you bolted out from behind the crate and pulled it.

“No, wait—” Hughie tried to stop you, but it was too late.A massive gust of air blasted through the warehouse as huge vents in the ceiling opened, releasing a thick cloud of smoke. It filled the room in seconds, obscuring everyone’s vision.

You coughed, stumbling back as the smoke poured out, but then realized something: the smoke was actually giving them cover.

Butcher noticed it too. He grabbed your arm again, this time with a bit less anger. “Move! Now!”

Using the smoke as a distraction, the team dashed through the chaos, evading the guards who were now coughing and disoriented. They made it to the storage room, where they found the goods and got out, all thanks to your unintentional blunder.

Once outside, the team caught their breath, safe for now. Butcher turned to you, his face a mix of relief and annoyance.

“Bloody hell, y/n. You nearly cocked it all up… but you might’ve actually saved our arses.”

You grinned sheepishly. “So… does that mean I did good?”Butcher stared at you, then shook his head with a begrudging smirk. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it. You’re still a pain in the arse.”

Frenchie chuckled, patting you on the back. “You have a certain… chaotic charm, mon ami. But next time, let’s stick to the plan, oui?”

“Yeah, I think we’ve had enough surprises for one night.” Hughie added, still catching his breath.

You beamed, feeling a little more confident now. “Got it. No more surprises… unless they’re the good kind!”

Butcher let out a tired sigh. "For fuck's sake, give me strength, will ya?" Butcher muttered defeated, looking up at the sky.

[thedgeoftheuniverse]

AND IN THEIR TRIUMPH DIE | chapter 2

— Seven years after the Outbreak, all efforts to find a cure have been unsuccessful. Nearly a forgotten pipe dream, it's kept alive by a small team of scientists scattered across the country and fiercely guarded by what remains of the military. It was coincidence that brought the missing piece to the cure into the hands of Levi Squad. It was sheer misfortune that it would carry him across the country.

[ WORD COUNT: 4.1k ]

[ levi ackerman x fem!reader ]

[ TAGS/WARNINGS: violence, mentions of loss of a limb/severed limbs, cursing, mentions of contamination from germs, levi definitely has anxiety, is prob OOC. mentions of a gun/gunshots, mentions of levi not eating, more zombies! please continue with caution if these are sensitive subjects for you <3 ]

The room was mostly quiet when Levi returned to consciousness.

His hearing was the first to come back. The only sounds that his slightly ringing ears picked up were ragged breaths and distant groans of Infected on the other side of the door. They were no longer beating at the door, but they were still nearby.

The next to return was the heartbeat in his ankle, which had been wrapped and iced. The compression felt heavenly on the aching joint.

“Welcome back,” Though he still felt far away and his vision had not returned, Levi could recognize Erwin’s voice in his sleep.

“Piss off.”

He seemed amused. “It seems you may need more rest, Captain.”

“Fuck you.” His vision began coming in. He noticed Erwin by his side, who had swept back his bangs and gently rested his hand on his forehead. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours.”

“ What ?”

He shot up. The sudden change in posture caused a wave of nausea that made him have to lean back on his elbows and close his eyes for a moment. He always hated nausea. A glance around the room told him that Erwin was the only other person awake. Hange slept against the wall with their mouth open and glasses sitting crooked on their face; Eren’s head was laid in their lap as he took in shallow breaths. His complexion was concerningly pallid, though the cauterization appeared to have been successful given the makeshift bandage hadn't been changed or entirely bled through yet. You were curled on the floor with your back against the wall and soft snores leaving your lips; much to Levi’s dismay, you were unrestrained.

“Levi, you need to eat.”

“We need to get out of here.” 

“ Levi. We are not going anywhere until you have eaten. The last thing we need is for you to faint again.”

He hated being coddled. “Oh, spare me the lecture, eyebrows. In case you’ve forgotten, the rest of our rations were in Hange’s pack.”

“Blue has offered us some of her food. You would be wise to accept it.”

“I’m not taking shit from that rat.”

If the look on his face was any indication, Erwin was tired of his temper.

“Levi,” the authority had returned to Erwin’s voice, and Levi knew he was not going to make compromises or use the watered-down version of himself that was given to the rest of the group. “You’re a liability as it stands. We need you to be able to make it back. I need you to make it back. You cannot manage that in your current state.” 

“Fine— after we figure out what to do with her.” 

“ Now. And we will figure that out when everyone is awake. We could all use extra rest after today.”

He knew it was fruitless to try persuading Erwin—his orneriness was both his most admirable and most infuriating quality. Levi was not ignorant of the fact that he needed to eat, and he knew it was a poor judgment call to refuse his rations from the previous days. He was sure Erwin knew he saw his errors and chose to forgo the lecture, though he would not budge on the necessity of him eating. It was reasonable. All of it. What he could not see as reasonable was the Commander’s determination to trust you—a stranger he owed no loyalties or love to—over him. Levi was sure that after everything they braved together, Erwin would hold his instincts in higher regard.

“You think I don’t trust you.” He hated when he read his thoughts. 

“No, I think you trust her .”

“And why do you think that, Captain?”

“Because she’s still alive... and don’t call me that.” His frustration was evident in the furrow of his thick brows and a deep inhale through flared nostrils. “What’s the plan here, Erwin?”

“She lives here.” Levi couldn’t stop the annoyance crossing his face, not understanding what his friend meant and not caring to decipher it through the swimming in his head.

“She knows the town better than any of us. She must be able to fight if she’s been around this long, and we’re going to need all the help we can get to bring Eren back home...” he trailed off for a moment, as though the words he needed to say turned to ash in his throat. “And if she turns on us, I trust you’ll have no hesitation in putting her down.” 

(Like a dog.)

(Like him .) 

“So, you think it’ll be necessary?” 

“It’s a contingency, Levi. Now eat the damn granola bar. I will not tell you again.”

“Sir.” He acknowledged with a curt nod and a glare from under his brows. The noticeably audible growling of his stomach solidified Erwin’s point, making Levi feel more impudent than he already had and prompting his friend to throw the highly debated protein bar in his lap.

The packaging was almost pristine, free of dust, debris, and discoloration—he could not recall the last time he had seen something like it. It would have to have been before the outbreak. Likely the last time he went to the grocery store, which was in the middle of the hottest July in living memory, with eighty dollars in his pocket and a bandage wrapping his face. The colors were still vibrant—orange and white and black, advertising a peanut butter and chocolate flavoring with peanut and caramel topping and a low sugar content, in a striking, bold font that he knew would have grabbed eyes on the store shelves. 

In fact, he may have seen the exact one on the shelves.

When he tore the package with weak fingers, the smell of the bar elicited another growl of his stomach, but Levi still felt hesitant in taking the first bite. It felt too normal, like he had to have been overlooking the most obvious signs of contamination. He almost felt afraid.

“It’s not gonna bite you. That’s their job.” The sound of your voice immediately diverted Levi’s attention to you, having almost forgotten your presence in the examination of his food. “Sorry, bad joke.”

But you were still smiling.

“You’re awake.”

“Yeah. Have been for a couple minutes.” He noticed a slight twang in your accent that didn’t seem perceptible earlier.

“Care to explain all of this?” he said, gesturing to the entirety of the room. “Where’s the rest of your people?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Oh, how he fucking despised your attitude.

“Listen here, you damn rat—” “ Levi! —” Hange interrupted in a sharp whisper, “Erwin and I checked. The building’s empty; all the exits are boarded up. She’s telling the truth.”

“Where did this come from?” He demanded, the half-opened granola bar still held in his hand. The warmth from his palm began to make the chocolate melt, sticking to the foil packaging and threatening to dirty his hands. 

“It was here when I found the place.” “And how long has that been?” “A few weeks.” “ Bullshit. Nothing lasts that long now, least of all food like this.” He could feel his temper beginning to boil over. Levi couldn’t remember the last time he spoke with someone so irritating.

(Yes he could.)

“What does it matter where it came from?” “Because I don’t trust you.” “The door is right there, then. You’re welcome to take your chances out there. I’d take some food before you go, though.”

“Don’t be a brat.”

A low, throaty groan from the opposite corner of the room interrupted Levi’s verbal sparring with you. Hange immediately jerked awake, having been anxiously waiting for any signs of life from Eren aside from labored, shallow breaths. He took in a deep breath—his first one—wincing in pain as his legs fought against themselves to stretch with the rest of his body.

“Is that…” You looked nauseated staring at him, your eyes glued to Eren’s severed calf a mere few feet away from them. “Does that stop the infection?”

(Has it smelled like that the whole time?)

(Like death?)

“Most of the time.” Hange responded, their voice uncharacteristically quiet as they gently ran their fingers through Eren’s sweat-matted hair. They removed the hair tie to allow his head to rest more comfortably on their lap. “If you catch it soon enough.” “And how soon is ‘soon enough?’ 

“It’s different every time.” Levi noticed something similar to failure swirling in their eyes. “Eren here lasted almost thirty minutes. But I’ve seen someone bitten and turned in less than fifteen. It’s never the same.” “So how did you know it would work?” “We didn’t… but we had to try.” The room was silent for a moment as they all spared a few moments to glance at Eren. They were all beginning to think the same thing.

(It was always the kids to suffer the most.) 

Erwin’s somber voice cut through the silence, hardly a whisper. “How’s he doing?” Levi could see the regret on his face. He blamed himself. 

He was just a kid.  

“Stable—for now. But he needs fluids, antibiotics, painkillers… a blood transfusion, maybe two. We can’t do any of that until we get back, and we can’t feasibly carry him the whole way. It took us four days to make it this far without him on our backs.” 

He could see the realization finally hit them. 

It might be impossible to bring Eren home. 

The room fell silent again as they measured humanity versus reality.  

There were a lot of things Levi could stomach, but he wasn't sure this would be one of them. And facing Mikasa and Armin would be another demon entirely. 

“There’s a car.” 

A collective gasp filled the room. Your voice was barely above a whisper as you breathed hope into the air. “It’s about two, maybe three blocks down. I think it still runs—I can make a break for it, get it around front.” “You think it still runs?” Levi spat. He hated that it was their only option. At least, the only one that included Eren. “When’s the last time you checked?”

There was an uncomfortably long beat of silence before your response. “About three weeks... and it was in pretty rough shape then. But it’s our only option for getting out of here.”

( Fuck , he hates you too.)

“‘ Our?’ No, no, no. You’re not coming with us.” 

“Yes, Levi, she is.” 

“What happened to your democratic bullshit? I didn't vote.” 

“Hange and myself did. Majority rules, even under my bullshit democracy.” Between Erwin’s matter-of-fact, smart-asses statement paired with that smug grin he loved to wear, Levi was ready to hit him. It seemed everyone was determined to push his buttons. 

You seemed eager enough to ignore his protests. “Look, I can make a run for it. If I’m not back in thirty minutes, you can assume I’m dead and make a new plan from there.” 

He did not remember you being so mouthy.

“Or you took the car and bolted while those freaks were distracted with us in here.” A hefty sigh left you. Levi thought it amusing that you were getting frustrated. “Tell me where it is, and I’ll go.” 

“You’ll never make it with your ankle, Levi.” He shot a lethal glare in Erwin’s direction. 

“We can’t send Hange—it’s bad enough they were allowed on this run in the first place.” They looked like they wanted to protest, but Levi gave no room. “And someone has to stay behind to keep them and the kid safe. Not to mention, you're loud as hell and slow—freaks’ll hear you before they get the chance to smell you.”

They knew there was no room for argument. They knew he was right, regardless of how little anyone liked the plan.  

He knew he had a higher chance of death than success. 

“I’ll go with you.” 

“ No .” 

“ Yes. I can lure them away while you make a break for the car.” He might have hated the logicality of your plan more than you. “I don’t care how fast you are; you can't outrun them with your ankle like that.” 

A scathing glare and full-chested sigh were his only responses to you.  

“Just don't leave me behind.” 

“No promises.” 

It had to have been the most insane, asinine, downright fucking disgusting plan Levi had ever been subjected to. 

“I am not covering myself in that shit.” 

“Yes, you are.”

“I know how it sounds, but it covers your scent. There's no way we're making it to the car smelling very much alive—and it's not actually going on you , just on the cloak.” 

That was not much better, in his opinion. 

The aforementioned cloak, a vibrant shade of emerald green with an obscure logo on the back that he could not recall seeing before, could not protect his skin from the overwhelming amount of bacteria and disease carried by those wretched corpses. It sure as hell was not thick enough to prevent that gore from seeping through the fabric. 

“You're the one that insisted on going, shorty.” Hange looked disgustingly amused. 

“Can it, four eyes.” 

He was going to be sick. He was sure he looked nearly as pale as Eren. 

As you reviewed the plan, drawing shoddy diagrams on the ground with an old marker, Levi realized how truly doomed he was. The alley they entered was a dead end on the other side, blocked off by a ten-foot-tall gate—likely installed by the military to prevent strays, both living and dead—with barbed wire curling around the top. Carefully designed to prevent their exact motive, there was no chance they would be scaling the fence. The only option was to exit the same way they entered, which included passing through roughly fifteen to twenty remaining Infected meandering through the alleyway and streets. 

With limited ammunition and energy between the two of you, Levi—with intense nausea and somehow revitalized disdain towards you—knew the intestine-soaked, bacteria-infused cloak was the only option.

“This is fucking insane.” 

He was still going to complain. 

“Yeah, it is. It’s also our only shot of getting out of here since you all rang the goddamn dinner  bell for every freak in the next five miles.”

“Would you like to say that again?” 

“Actually, I have something else in mind for you.”

“ Don’t be a fucking brat.” 

“ Don’t be a fucki—”  

“Levi. Blue. That is more than enough.” Erwin's commanding baritone cut through the altercation. “You two will have to work together out there if you have any hope of making it to the car.” 

Levi grumbled a "yes, sir.” You resumed your review of the plan.

“Okay, one more time: Levi and I will pass back down the alleyway and make our way here—” you pointed to a matchbook, symbolizing an old pharmacy, “—together. Once we hit the pharmacy, I split off, toss the cloak, and make as much damn noise as I can to lead them away.”

 “What if they don’t follow you?” Hange questioned. Levi hadn’t thought it was possible for the room to become more tense, but it did. “Abnormals aren't too common, but they’re not exactly rare either.” 

He hadn’t thought about that.

Then again, he never had to think about the intricacies and exceptions of live baiting Infected.

“Trust me, they’ll follow.” Hange seemed to accept your vague answer. “Worst case, we’ll both have weapons.” 

Levi had the growing suspicion he would be dead before the pharmacy was in eyeshot. 

“Once we split off, Levi—you’ll make a run for the car. Give me at least a minute to lure them far enough away and then pull around front. The four of us will load in. We’ll be golden.” “How are you getting back around without leading those freaks right to us? I’m not trying to have my face torn off in a piece of shit Honda today.” 

“I have a ladder set up around back. I’ll get to the roof, drop down inside, and run out the front—done it a dozen times. And it's a Camry.” 

“Even better.” 

Erwin looked deep in thought, with his thick brows furrowed so deeply they nearly touched in the middle. “And there's no other way?” 

“No.” 

“It’s settled then. I trust you can do this, Levi?” 

“Fuck off.” 

“I’ll take that for ‘yes’.” 

“Erwin, we need to talk.” 

“After.” 

(Will there be an 'after’ for him?) 

In all actuality, three hours of rest was not enough to mitigate the severe sleep deprivation and physical pain Levi had found him in. 

But it was better than nothing.

The food he reluctantly ate from Blue’s stores (one protein bar and a can of mostly normal white meat chicken) replenished a good enough portion of his energy, while the water (which Levi insisted on boiling, seeing as he did not trust you or anyone else’s competency in the matter. Erwin gave in.) did not feel refreshing; the hydration was not a matter of question.

His ankle, however, was, and Erwin showed no hesitancy in making his awareness of the fact known.

Levi told him where he could shove it.

Now, covered in entrails and intestines, and God only knows what else by your side, a woman that he trusted less than his uncle (which was a considerable statement), Levi wished he’d heeded his companion’s warnings.

 The pair were waved out of the door with a cheerful “Good luck!” and a dismal “We’re counting on you.”

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice no more than a shadow, “just follow my lead.”

He responded with a turse nod, too focused on maintaining the lightness of his feet, while you loudly scuffed and scraped and shuffled your feet across the pavement. 

(Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. )

He wanted to scream at you and tell you that your noise was ringing the dinner bell—as you so eloquently phrased—when he realized the cloaks were working and you were acting like one of them. The Infected crowding the alley, at least six in number, paid little to no mind to the pair of you, nor did the dozen or so on the way to the pharmacy. Levi would have almost believed you had done this before and did not feel even a quarter of the sheer terror coursing through him were it not for the single glance he spared at you. 

(But still—heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. Heel toe.)  

(He would not die today.) 

Your hands were balled into fists so tight he thought your fingernails would draw blood, your jaw was clenched to an extreme degree, and your legs slightly trembled with each of your noisy steps. 

There was a single, tense moment of eye contact where Levi offered you a nod with raised eyebrows. 

( You've got it. ) 

(He didn't believe it.) 

( Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe. Forever and ever and ever. ) 

The walk to the pharmacy felt like an eternal walk into Hell. 

The walking corpses smelled of decomposition. Levi smelled of decomposition. Their groans, clicks, and cries filled his ears and made him sick to his stomach, but they made it nonetheless. 

The two of you kneeled behind a wall of sandbags on the road. 

“Okay,” you spoke, another shadow of a whisper, “I- I’m going to fire this bad boy off a few times and scream a bit.” You motioned to the pistol in your hand. “I think I can buy you about five minutes.”

 Another nod from Levi. It felt like he forgot how to speak.

 “Please, hurry.”

 Your hands were shaking.

 For a moment, he wanted to steady them, but the thought of touching you felt almost repulsive.

 Without another word, you bolted. Once you were around thirty feet away from Levi and already had several undead heads turning, you began shouting. Mostly profanities and insults, rage, he guessed, had been long repressed, finally having an outlet.

“ HEY, FUCKFACE!”

“ YEAH, YOU—YOU NO GOOD SON OF A BITCH. ” 

“ GODDAMN DISEASE RIDDEN, FUCKING UGLY, WORTHLESS, FILTHY, ROTTEN SACKS OF SHIT!”  

He didn't think you held such a voice.

After you rounded the corner opposite the car, Levi heard three successive gunshots and took that as his sign to make a break for the car.

And if Levi felt his luck could not get any worse, two stragglers were waiting for him around the corner. 

Two Abnormals.

Two freakishly strong, horrifyingly intelligent Infected with incredibly honed senses and reflexes like a cat. 

Two of them, in the direct path to the car.

Tch. “They'll follow,” my ass.

The way he saw it, there were two options. 

Option one: run straight into them, machete in the air, and hope he was able to hack at them fast enough and with enough power to take them down without being bitten or torn to shreds. 

It seemed unlikely. 

Option two: rely on the cover of his cloak and make a wide berth around the opposite side of the car, climb through the passenger seat, and avoid them entirely.

It also seemed unlikely, but he liked his chances better with option two with the first. The nagging, searing pain in his ankle hadn't let up, and Levi knew with the utmost certainty that he could not run or even jog, much less charge two Abnormals and live to tell the tale. 

He knew with little certainty he would pull this off, but he had to try—for Hange and Erwin; for Eren, who might have already died in the ten-minute crawl to the pharmacy; for all of the insufferable brats back home that had become more of a family to him than his own ever hoped of being. He knew he could not live with himself if he ran, and if he failed, then he would be thankful for the reprieve of his own death rather than burying Eren. 

You can do this.  

With a deep breath, he began his crawl to the car. 

Heel. Toe. Heel. Toe.  

It felt like their groans echoed off the walls of the barren city. He couldn't take his eyes off of them. Every step as he slowly approached the car felt like it would be his last; every twitch from the Abnormals felt like a warning. Don't come any closer. But he had no choice. 

But it was so close. 

The car was just right there , but God, it was still so far. Still at least twenty feet away, and he was walking at a snail's pace. He couldn't go faster—dead people don't move like that, and neither do sprained ankles. 

And then, for the second time that day, Levi couldn't believe what his own two eyes and ears were telling him. 

A boom from the sky. 

Thunder?

A shrill scream in the direction that you ran off in.

Did they get you? 

( Who gives a fuck?)

Did he just gasp?

Is it fucking raining ?

Another piercing wail, this time from them.  

And before he could understand what happened, they were on him in a flurry of motion and wails that left him with no option but to sprint as best as he could to the car. It hurt worse than anything he felt in recent years. His ankle was pounding to the rhythm of his heart as he swung open the car door and slammed it behind him. 

  “There’s only one catch—”  

“Fucking great.”

You shot a glare in his direction. “The key might not have been left with the car... If not, you’ll have to be able to hotwire it.”

“Fantastic.”

Levi frantically searched the car for the key, running his hand through the crack of the seat, and was pouring through the center console when one of the Abnormals slammed against the window, causing him to jump. Were he taller, his head would likely have hit the car roof. The beast pounded the window, gaping maws of rotting flesh and gnashing teeth, trying to bite at him through the window. Its’ screams echoed in his head as the second one came to its’ side and began its own bashing.

And then he saw it.

A hairline fracture in the center of the window, steadily growing and expanding with each second of pressure, and Levi couldn't find the damn key. 

All he could do was yell.

His hands were too shaky to hotwire the car, and he wasn't sure he could think clearly enough if that were not the case.

And then the window shattered.

[this is abysmal in quality, i will be coming back to edit later but i needed to get this out. hope you enjoy anyways!]

[bomberqueen17]

encouraging

Last night I got very mildly high (a really great thing about being middle-aged in this new era of legal weed is that it's really easy to get very consistent and reliable gummies with very consistent and reliable doses of THC so you can get yourself very mildly stoned, not enough to freak out or like lose time or anything, just enough to be Altered and take a little mini-vacation from your own brainweasels, and wake up refreshed the next day instead of hung-over) and scrolled Tumblr until I saw that post about multi-vortex "dead man walking" tornadoes again, and that got me to go search up the one they mentioned by name and then go into a wikipedia spiral about destructive multi-vortex tornadoes. (The post, shockingly, isn't totally accurate, but isn't like. wrong-wrong. For the record though the dead man walking bit of the tornado wasn't as deadly as the just wall-of-black that came later.)

And actually while it was terrifying to see what kind of destruction the weather can wreak, it was kind of... encouraging. Reading the accounts of historical storms and more recent ones, there's this throughline of learning, of new regulations and guidelines, of science being done. The old historic tornadoes, not only were the casualties high, but the aftermath horrible, people missing, fires wiping out survivors, local economies irrevocably destroyed. The newer tornadoes, often the weather itself was more severe, but there are fewer and fewer casualties, better warnings and advice from meteorologists, better government response. I didn't track any of my sources on this and I've closed the window so I'd stop reading about it, but I read with interest about how in 1991 a news team sheltered under an overpass during a scary but relatively weak tornado, and broadcast footage of this, and then in a much stronger early-2000s tornado, a number of people were killed sheltering under highway overpasses, and then by the 2010s the advice to avoid highway overpasses had become common knowledge, and people are no longer being killed this way. (Also I finally had my question answered, having been on the Thruway during a tornado warning: why not shelter under an overpass? Well! Because of fluid dynamics. Just as water pressure intensifies when going through a sudden narrowing in a pipe, so too does wind going through a narrower space, so if you're hiding in that narrow space you are gonna get sucked out of it. So if you find yourself out in the open, do not shelter under a bridge or overpass! Shelter instead in a ditch if you can find one, or a hollow in the ground, something open to the sky so the wind will not intensify passing through it. Now You Know. ok fine I reopened the tab to cite this: NOAA's page on this topic)

Another one was a storm in the 20s where several of the casualties were farmers out in their fields, taken unawares. Normally farmers are weather-savvy, the article said, and would know to shelter from storms, but this tornado had an unusual appearance, and took them by surprise. Contrast that to later storms, where mobile radars were deployed, where meterologists and broadcasters had protocols already in place, where local inhabitants knew to listen and knew how to respond-- there are still instances of bad advice, like an Oklahoma TV weatherman telling people to get in their cars and evacuate which led to gridlock on the local highway which would have resulted in hundreds of casualties save for the tornado missing that area, but mostly people know now what to do. The casualties are much sparser, and many of them now are, instead of people making fatal mistakes, instead people doing the right thing but the storm just being too powerful. (No less tragic, but I suppose it's slightly less heartbreaking to know it was just bad luck and not also poor information.)

And you see examples like in 2011 the 12 oil rig workers, who sheltered in the change house, which due to new information about tornadoes had been built with tie-downs, which nearly failed but did not and all twelve souls were spared, and the company improved construction of future change houses as tornado shelters based on this information.

Anyway, it was a weird thing to fixate on for the evening but in the end it did leave me with a feeling of hopefulness. Like, this is a thing where science and good government actually can concretely improve outcomes.

Let's not extend our worry into climate change making all this worse, just yet, and leave it at this.

LOL this is so poorly cited I'm turning reblogs off, and hopefully I'm done obsessing about tornadoes for a lil bit now. Well, we'll see if that resolution sticks, I reopened tabs to put in at least minimal citations here and haven't closed them yet.

[zeondraws]

Hi!! Do you ever wonder why Roy called Banky “Holiday” in the unused voice line? It makes me think it's his last name but it would be funny if it was😭 Thank you if you'll reply!❤️‍🩹

Hiii,

I already wrote an answer but tumblr crashed on me.

I sadly can't say much to this, I think for some stuff I'd rather wait for the artbook to come out in Feb. Afterwards one can check what other open questions are left that are unanswered.

(This part down here is unrelated to the question, but I thought I'd share it regardless)

I have to see if I am allowed to, or I will try to ask. But I want to scan the Artbook when I get it and if it's possible, share a PDF with people here. Tho I ofc don't want to overstep any boundaries, if it's a no-go by the devs.

My main reasoning for that idea is, I don't know how long that artbook will be available for purchase. And a lot of Game Artbooks are notorious for becoming extremely expensive, once they're out of print. Tho it depends how popular the franchise is. I think.

One example is Ori and the Will of The Wisps. I sadly didn't get the limited edition artbook they had for sale some years ago (I only have the mini artbook). Original price was 35,99€ but if I want to buy one now, I would need to spend 200-300€ on ebay.

Either way, in the meantime I'd continue exploring the game files to see if I can find anything else.

Recently I have been trying to understand where everything connects to on the rig. But I still fail a lot with my orientation and memory.

I slowly understand where each Leg is located (I still mix them up sometimes), but I have to try and memorise where certain rooms in Engineering, Accommodation or Administration are placed for example.

It's strange to see how many details there are if one focuses properly. (Incoming rant prepare urself)

Only a few days ago I actually realised Trots was in the bathroom when he transformed. It's behind the door inside the crew lounge. Why did it take me so long to notice? Not sure. I never thought much of it.

I don't exactly understand how the shape got to him. Mainly because there are remains of another person in there, which makes it extra confusing.

I roughly assume the shape bursted out of the sink pipes? (if you look closely you can see it coming out of the pipes under the sink)

(Also, random observation; in both shower rooms, if you look closely, the shape came out of the shower heads and latched onto it's victim standing under it. I have to recheck if it's both showerheads. But I def saw it coming out in one of them.)

And caught both of them in some way or another, throwing Trots into one of the Toilet stalls- Where he tried to fight against it but transformed there. Slightly destroying these walls that seperated each toilet from one another, leaving a trail of blood behind.

(At some point I thought the shape came out of the toilet and got him, but the sink pipes are the only real indicators. The lid on the toilet is closed, only having blood stains. Unlike the other poor guy in another bathroom, the shape go him through the toilet. Rest in Piss.)

In many areas it can be seen, that the shape bursts through pipes. I am not sure if it avoids contact with water at any cost. Or if it makes it's way through it regardless. I know the mutated ones dislike the water and drown in it. But the shape sometimes gets submerged in water in certain levels. So I feel like it doesn't care too much, unlike the infected crewmates.

Maybe I'll show pictures about it another time. It's really late here and I'm super tired. But I just remembered this and wanted to type it all out. Although it's very unrelated XD. Hope you still enjoy these observations.

Goodnight from me

[lunamkardas]

COZY GAME?

So last night I saw this really cute looking farm sim game, yes another one, called Grimshire. It's just a demo but the pixel art is charming and it seems really interesting. So far you can only be a bunny or a fox so I picked bunny.

Game opens with a boat horn sounding. I and some random goat lady have been rescued from The Capital where Some Shit Is Going Down and we are both unconscious, dragged to safer shores by an otter named Fin. He lets the town know shit's going down and he's going back out on his boat to see if he can get more info.

We get taken to the town healer and I'm just a little banged up but fine. Goat lady is hurt much worse so she's going to take longer to wake up.

Day 1 Basic "hey welcome to town here's a run down farm house for you to live in new dude, we'd really appreciate it if you contributed to the town's root cellar by growing some stuff" tutorial. Quickly followed by the "You should talk to all 26 people in town newbie!"

They got a small town/hamlet version of Animal crossing's museum thing going on so any stuff I forage or catch for the first time can go there.

They gave me a pump and water pipes straight off the bat so it was SO MUCH easier getting the watering down for my baby farm.

Holy shit fishing is so much easier than Stardew valley my god I love it.

Day 2

Goat lady died in the night from her wounds.

None of us knew her name. The town burned her atop the mountain peak with all in attendance.

Everyone is pretty down about it. Some people mention they hope Fin gets back with news, especially since him and his boat are such an important part of their food supply because they're an island.

My eyes lock onto the root cellar and then to the previously mildly annoying but NOW VERY IMPORTANT game mechanic of food spoiling.

I immediately start selling everything I own including the swank new bed and bookcase I got for collecting specimens and begin rapid fire purchasing as many drying racks as possible, throwing every fish, fruit and mushroom I find onto them to start stocking up.

Day 3

Normal day of collecting and throwing stuff onto the drying racks. Selling junk to buy more drying racks. The game refuses to tell me how to make them myself.

Get a crack at the mines which has an interesting quirk where you actually mine out the rock from the walls and if you remove too much of the supporting walls it can cause a cave in. Also you can very easily find the ladder to lower levels, which I appreciate.

Learned how to make more pipes to improve my pumps range.

Did some logging for the woodcutter. Mining for the Smith.

Day 4

The Mayor and his assistant come get me and start walking me through the root cellar tutorial while telling me that they will no longer be expecting me to pay ANY TAXES under the circumstances. (Waaaaay ahead of you dudes I already pieced together I'm now the most important person on this island and I am panicking a little bit because I'm pretty sure Covid just entered your reality and thank FUCK we burned Goat lady.)

Thank you kindly can I PLEASE get back to foraging and fishing and drying so I can keep both herbivores and carnivores alive while we Quarantine.

Healer lady and her assistant had the same idea about us suddenly being cut off from the outside world. No one's saying 'disease' yet but I have my suspicions.

Anyhoo they put the town up to a vote over what we should build, a new medicine herb garden she definitely knows how to maintain and use or a mushroom hut to alleviate the island hamlet's food needs even though no one on the island knows the first thing about mushrooms.

I am sitting on a fucking throne of fish jerky and dried fruit/veg. WE ARE MAKING THE HERBAL GARDEN.

The other villagers agree and I immediately bum rush the donation box and slam all the wood and rocks we need into it.

Day 5 Herbal Garden is complete and Healer lady is excited to start researching new medicines.

I am desperately mining as much copper as I can to make more water pipes because I only have so much energy each day and I can't be wasting it watering 30 plants.

I also start planting the tree seeds I've been shaking out so I can have fruit trees. Fishing is easy but the island has both carnivores and herbivores and the plant supply is harder to come by every day plus Drying takes Time.

Day 6 The town gathers because Fin is FINALLY back with news!

It ain't covid.

The Capital is Gone and most of the other landlocked population centers are too.

But they weren't empty.

It's Zombies.

It's Zombies and the only places that still exist are boarded up and armed to the teeth refusing all entry or trade because it's ZOMBIES.

Thank FUCK we burned Goat Lady.

10/10 I need this shit now

[missvelvetsstuff]

Skin Deep

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky and the reader have been dating for a couple of months when he leaves for a long mission. While he's away the reader worries about him and the stress causes her psoriasis to flare up. By the time he comes home it's pretty bad and she's embarrassed to let him, or anyone, see her.

Notes: reader is female and above average height but I try to keep everything else vague.

She has Chronic Placque Psoriasis, which I was diagnosed with last year. My husband has been awesome but I hate this. Crusty, scaly, itchy "plaques" that are not responding well to treatment, thinning hair patches.

So I wrote my own comfort story. Lemme know what you think.

Warnings: swearing, angst with a happy ending

Y/N woke up early to go to the gym and keep up on the training Bucky insisted she start. Even though he had been gone on a mission for 2 months she had promised to stick with it. As she dressed in her tank top she noticed the red scaly patches on her neck and back. Upon further inspection it started on the crown of her head and was spreading. She had seen it starting a couple of days ago but ignored it, hoping it would calm itself but no such luck.

She shook her head and swore "Damnit, not this mess again. FRIDAY? Can you see if Helen Cho has any time to see me today?"

"Of course, Miss Y/N." After a moment she spoke again "Dr Cho can see you at 12:30. Is that alright for you?"

"Yea, FRIDAY. Thank you."

"Of course, Miss Y/N."

Y\N sighed in frustration at her condition, traded the tank top for long sleeves and her shorts for yoga pants, then put on a headband to cover her hairline. Satisfied that most of the plaques were out of sight she went to meet Nat.

When she opened the door to the gym she saw Natasha leaned up against a wall while Clint worked on the weights. When she saw Y/N enter she waved and started walking over to greet her.

Nat furrowed her brow before she spoke "What's with the long sleeves? I didn't bruise you up too much yesterday, did I?

Y/N chuckled "No, it wasn't you. The crunge is back."

Nat looked concerned "Oh no! Maybe the stress of missing your boy toy? Have you even heard from him?"

Y/N shook her head "No. They're on a total comms blackout. Nothing in or out but I'm sure we would have heard if something horrible happened." She smiled sadly "I just miss him. My bed is cold and I'm not sleeping well."

Nat put an arm around her shoulder "I know but he'll be back. How about a 3 martini lunch to distract you?"

Clint looked up "I'm down for a liquid lunch"

Y/N laughed "I have an appointment with Helen at 12:30 so it'll have to be a late lunch but sure as long as you order in. No one wants to see this mess." She pointed at herself.

Nat shook her head "I don't want to hear that talk. It's not like you have any control over it."

Y/N sighed "that doesn't matter. People see my skin and treat me like a leper. I'm not up for being a public service announcement for psoriasis."

"Alright kid. We'll meet in Tony's lounge at 2:00. That should give you plenty of time with Helen." Clint hugged her.

Nat pipes in "I'll tell Betty(Y/N's boss) I need you for the afternoon.'

After the gym, Y/N went to the common room kitchen to find something for breakfast. She settled on a couple of hard boiled eggs, a banana and some orange juice.

Then a long shower, not too hot so her skin isn't irritated, moisturizing her scalp and dressing in a pair of slacks and long sleeved blouse. It took a few minutes to style her hair to cover the rash to her satisfaction.

She went to work in the PR department on the other side of the compound. She was the only ops employee who had quarters near the Avengers, being friends with Tony and Nat was definitely helpful. Dating Bucky was her bonus for living next to the team.

Her boss, Betty, greeted her with a grim smile "Agent Romanoff has requested your help this afternoon so she will meet you in the Avengers common room after your lunch at 2." She looked Y/N up and down "It is convenient how the Avengers always need your help and never any other employees."

Betty was a control freak and didn't like how Y/N was assigned to her but always pulled away by the team. She wouldn't dare complain but it did rub her the wrong way.

Y/N smiled "We've built up a rapport since I'm over there all the time with Sargent Barnes."

Betty sneered "I cant imagine what anyone would see in-"

Y/N snapped "Don't tax yourself trying, some people can only see in one dimension so I'm sure it's beyond your abilities"

Betty scoffed "You might be their pet right now but they'll get bored, he'll get bored if he doesn't kill you first, and you'll be stuck with me"

"Yeah, sure Betty. Why don't you let me get some work done while I'm here." Y/N smiled and went to her office.

She spent 3 hours working on her paperwork and projects before her phone went off to remind her of her appointment. She cleaned up her desk and waved goodbye to Betty who shot her a dirty look.

Y/N went to the medical wing and saw Helen. This wasn't a new problem so Helen gave her a refill on her meds and a new moisturizing steroid cream with vitamin d. Y/N was grateful for Starks medical coverage since most insurance wouldn't cover such a new medicine.

After scheduling an appointment for 2 weeks to see how she was responding to the new meds Y/N went to her apartment to change into something more comfortable. She picked a long sleeve maxi dress and sandals.

When she arrived at Tony's lounge she saw Nat had already started drinking and Clint came in right after her with the food. They sat in the comfy leather chairs eating tacos and drinking margaritas until dinnertime when they decided to watch a movie. They were all half drunk and argued over what to watch but Y/N and Nat ganged up on Clint and they ended up watching Heathers.

Clint passed out before the movie ended so drunk Nat and Y/N made his face up and put ribbons all over his hair then left him there, giggling as they tip-toed away.

Y/N was a little unsteady so decided to go to her room and sleep it off. She tried to explain that to Nat but it came out sounding like gibberish in between her laughter. Nat decided to follow her to make sure she made it ok and they both ended up passed out in Y/N's room.

Over the next 2 weeks she took good care of her skin but the rash wouldn't back down. The meds kept it from growing but didn't help much beyond that.

It was Friday nite and Y/N was on the roof hitting a joint and tequila shots with Nat. "Where is Clint anyhow?"

Nat scoffed "Some shit about seeing his family. Lame."

After they finished the joint they each had a brownie and slowly made their way back to the residential floor.

Y/N passed out fully clothed but she did remember to take her shoes off.

"Miss Y/N?" She heard her name like it was coming from far away and grunted in reply. FRIDAY tried again "Miss Y/N?" She grumbled then shouted "What" instantly regretting it as her head pounded. "Sargeant Barnes tried to call but you were asleep. He left a message to let you know he will be home this evening"

Y/N sat up quickly to find Nat passed out next to her. "Oh my head!" She grumbled and shoved Nat. "Natasha! What did you do to me? My head is pounding"

Nat rolled off the bed onto the floor "I didn't do anything, you're the one who drank too much. You should know you can't keep up with me."

Nat stood up a little unstable but her eyes were clear and bright.

Y/N was thinking "FRIDAY? What did you just say?"

"Sargeant Barnes sent a message to let you know he will be home this evening."

Y/N looked at Nat "Tonite? But look at me? I can't let Bucky see me like this. He'll never want to touch me again." Her eyes teared up.

Nat put an arm around her "Come on, Barnes is crazy about you, he won't let this stupid rash stop him."

Y/N shook her head, then groaned "But, Nat, I haven't had a flare up since before we started dating. I haven't told him about it yet." She got up slowly and went to look in her bathroom mirror and squealed "No, no, no! It's worse than yesterday. All over my head and down my back." She sat down and looked closer "And look Nat, a bald spot. No two. I can't even cover them up, make up just makes it worse."

Y/N spent the whole day stressing even more than she had been, scared that Bucky would be disgusted by her condition. The itch was making her crazy and nothing was helping, all her usual tricks only seemed to exacerbate the problem.

Her phone rang and she saw it was Bucky "Hey Buck" she answered "You almost here? FRIDAY said tonite but it's not even lunch time."

Bucky chuckled and she felt her insides flutter. "Not yet, doll but I couldn't wait to hear your voice. Feels like forever. I can't wait to see you, hold you. We should land around 4"

She smiled, excited to see him too "Any injuries I should know about?"

"Not me this time, Sam is a little beat up but nothing serious"

"I'll make something for dinner. Any requests?"

Bucky growled lowly "What I want has nothing to do with food doll. I can't wait to show you how bad I've missed you."

Her stomach dropped "Oh well I missed you too. You should probably get a good meal and some rest before, you know, anything else."

Bucky sounded concerned "Is everything alright Doll? You sound stressed. Are you ok?"

She forced a small laugh "Of course, baby. I'm just excited to see you."

"Well, make sure you take a nap after lunch. You're gonna need your strength. Good thing tomorrow is Sunday so we can sleep late.

I'll see you soon, beautiful"

"Bye Bucky"

Y/N spent the day doing chores and trying not to worry too much about Bucky coming home. Even took a nap after lunch, she needed it more than he could know. When she woke up her head was clearer so she showered and then went to make dinner for the team. She picked spaghetti since it was easy to make for a large group. She left the sauce to simmer and had noodles and garlic bread ready to go when they landed.

She went to the hangar to meet the team after changing into a long sleeved shirt and long skirt with a headband covering the rash that had gone past her hairline.

She stood humming and bouncing with excitement and nerves. A little yelp slipped out when she first saw him. He looked tired and dirty but broke out in a huge grin as soon as he saw her.

Y/N ran and threw herself into his arms, he squeezed her tight and buried his head in her hair, breathing her in. "Damn I missed you doll. Felt like forever."

She pulled back so she could kiss him "Same sarge, this dump ain't the same without you"

Bucky smiled while Tony was offended "Dump? You got a lot of nerve there Y/L/N" and strode away grumbling.

Bucky set her down "Come on doll, let me go get a shower"

She kissed him again "Ok, I'll get dinner finished and meet you in the kitchen."

The entire team minus Clint sat at the table as Y/N brought all the food out. She looked at everyone "I hope I made enough pasta"

Bucky smiled "It smells delicious, doll."

She smiled back at him, his smile still gave her butterflies, she couldn't understand how someone like him was into her. She felt like he's way out of her league. Especially with her skin acting up.

After dinner she offered everyone brownies, special or plain. Bucky grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder and grabbed a couple of brownies "Night all, I need some alone time with my girl."

When they got to his room he tossed her onto the bed and climbed on top of her "Do you have any idea how badly I missed you Y/N? Sam was getting tired of me talking in my sleep."

He gently grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in to kiss him. She tensed when his hand rubbed her neck and he pulled back, noting that the normally soft skin felt dry and crusty "Is everything ok baby? Am I hurting you?" He rubbed her neck gently.

Y/N felt her skin heat up "No Buck, you didn't hurt me. It's just this skin thing that I get. I know it's nasty, I understand if you dont want to touch me." She looked away.

Bucky sighed and gently turned her face to him. She could see the sadness and sincerity in his stormy blue eyes. "Y/N, I always want to touch you but not if it hurts. I never want to hurt you." He kissed her softly "Why didn't you tell me?"

She shrugged "It's gross and embarrassing. People look at me like I have the plague. I haven't had a flare in over a year but stress can bring it on."

Bucky kissed her again and pulled her close "What are you stressed about? Has Betty been on your case again? I can talk to Tony about her if you want."

She giggled "No, that's not it even though she really is awful. Besides, Tony likes me better than you so I could talk to him myself if it was that bad."

"Then what doll?"

Y/N squeezed him and let herself drown in his presence. "I just missed you and was worried. Everything feels so empty without you here."

Bucky kissed her forehead "I know what you mean doll, Sam just isn't as good company as you are."

He held her for a few minutes before a thought crossed his mind. He kissed her on the lips then pulled back to look her in the eyes. "You know what I've heard is a great stress reliever?"

She shook her head "No, what?"

Buckys eyes darkened and he smirked "Orgasms"

[aotearoa20]

Part One Part two Rory didn’t know how he’d gotten himself into this situation. A fairly common turn of events, if he was honest with himself, though it did usually involved a string of increasingly absurd events leading whatever mess he end up landing in. This time he was pretty certain he’d literally been standing in the TARDIS control moments ago. It had taken a sharp lurch, though even that was not so unusual, and the next this he could remember was standing in the dark room. 

Large but cramped, with great clanking pipes and valves reaching out of the walls and ceilings and a rusty smell lingering in the air. To his left, half a dozen massive machines groaned, spitting steam every so often. And there was something else nearby that was causing a racket. A shadow by the door at the far end of the room. The emergency lighting flickered on and off as it turned toward him.

Roy? Big man, you hiding from me? 

The voice sounded off, sort of hollow. Rory opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a hissing whispers. A head appeared out of a vent along the floor, white with fear and shaking his head. The lumbering shape was coming closer and Rory suddenly felt ill, as colours began to swim into his vision. He stumbled down and crawled into the vent.

He could barely fit inside as he found he was cramming himself in between two other men. Though he barely had time to care -an awful squelching sound nearly made him jump out of his skin - and fleshy tendrils appeared outside, just inches from his face.

Roy? I’ll be right out - just need to fix this - need to… get home 

They all froze, barely breathing as the thing stumbled around outside the vent. Rory very slowly rested his head against the cold metal of the floor. How had he gotten himself into this situation? What had happened between being in the TARDIS and being… where even are they? Where was Amy? That was enough to bring him back to himself.

“Oh fucking brilliant! You brought it back,” one of them growled. “The fuck are you?”

“I’m, um, I’m Rory,” he replied absently. Bad things happened when they were split up, he had to find her. The creature was still in the room but further away. He had to get out of here. “What was that?”

“Where’d you even come from?”

“Long story - I… uh -that?”

“That’s Caz,” the other said, his voice shook as he spoke but he looked up at Rory and tried to smile, “I’m Scooby, that there’s Addair.”

“It’s not Caz,” Addair ignored him as he grumbled, “Not even Caz wasn’t this much a of a pain.”

He looked almost up sad as he pushed forward to look out. In the dim lightning Rory could see the smaller control room in the far end. In between them and it and in between the machines was that creature. All the time muttering to itself. He could hear it slithering between the machine with a uncomfortable squelching and popping.

I’m coming - I’m coming Suze - just need to get this done - just a little while an’ I’ll be back 

Rory winced, there was a girl in primary school back in Ledworth who had got it in her head shed’d be the next big England rugby player. She would come every few months with some dislocated shoulder or knee. It sounded entirely too much like that. Scooby let out a sad sigh.

Stupid - fucking stupid Caz - Look what you done now 

“Gotta get in there to restart the generators,” Addair was still squinting at the control room, “or this whole rigs gonna be dead in the water.”

You’re alright - you’re fine - just gotta - fucking fix the - fuck 

And then he saw, running all the way down his shoulder and back, which had looked painfully extended dozens of glowing black boils. Every once and a while one would swell up and burst. Rory wanted to believe it didn’t hurt but the thing cried out in time with the sound. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for it.

“Get out there and get his attention.”

Well not that sorry. Rory blinked. There was a silence and he turned slowly to face Addair. He pointed to himself and the man nodded. He waited another moment but the other engineer didn’t say anything.

“Me?” He asked at last, as though it wasn’t blindingly oblivious, “Why me? Why don’t you…”

“Oh my apologies,” Addair snapped, “Are you an engineer? D’you know how to restart the generators, you brought it back here anyway…”

“I-I’m a nurse actually,” he replied, panic providing an answer that was very much not needed.

Addair barked a laugh, “Oh good, go fix him, while I go restart the bleedin’ engines eh? Then we’ll all just - ” 

“- Leave ‘im be Addair,” Scooby murmured he looked out at the bellowing shape. He swallowed hard, it was crying or howling or some terrible mixture of the two, “I’ll go.”

“I need you here in case we need a manual restart.”

The two began to argue over the top of him. Rory tried to keep his head down while they did, mind still racing. His eyes fell on a spanner lying just out side the vent. He grabbed it hesitantly and tossed to the far end of the room. Almost too easily the creature lunged toward the noise.

Suze? That you? 

Addair didn’t waste a second. He shoved past the both of them and made a break for the control room. The thing moved so fast at the sound of his crashing footsteps. Rory struggled not to cry out as it sort of stretched itself out longer, joints and tendon popping out of place. It was nearly back on him before he was even halfway.

Rory didn’t know what he was thinking. Something along the lines of keeping the ship afloat long enough to find Amy. He ran out into the open and yelled. The creature turned its head all the way around.

Don’t touch anything, it shrieked and a tendril shot out inches away from his face and embedded itself in the machine beside him, I need to fix it 

He jumped away from the generator with his hands out, “Alright I wont touch it.”

Tendrils shot out from it, blindly he thought at first as none of them touched him and it didn’t appear to… have eyes. There were growths all across its forehead over where it’s eyes, he assumed, ought to be. Except he realised with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that they had very carefully managed to hem him in so he could not move left or right. And then he saw, running all the way down his shoulder and back, which had looked painful extended even before it has stretched itself out, dozens of glowing black eyes. Every once and a while one would swell up and burst. Rory wanted to believe it didn’t hurt but the thing cried out in time with the sound

“Im not here for that. Im Rory Williams and I’m a nurse,” the words come out automatically as he stared, “I’m here for you. To help you.”

Look at the state of me, it let out a screech that seemed to resonate through his bones, Rory reached out to steady himslef as his legs nearly gave way. He didn’t want to look but he could turn away either.

“Okay what - what hurt let’s start with that and I’ll just - ” 

Fucking everything, it howled and pulled itself forward again until its face was inches away from his own.

“W-where’s your wife from?”

Where’d you come in from? Oh not too far then. Had this procedure before? No? It’s won’t take too long, don’t worry. Taking time off work? What do you? Kid’s in school? What they doing right now?

…What

The questions are second nature at this point. Time to fill in between consultations and consent forms. He know how to deal with nervous patients.

“You’re wife, Suze, you said?

It let out a keening wail, though not out it’s mouth somehow, because at the same time it said, “We from Glasgow, what that’s to do with - ” 

“Oh mine’s from Inverness”

“Your… wife.“

“My wife, Amy, she’s around her somewhere,” and added more to himself “I need to find her.”

“The fuck you bring her here for?”

“More like she brought me, she likes to uh travel,” he pulled a needle from his emergency kit bag. “This is a painkiller.”

He’s not sure what good it’ll do but he can’t think of what else he could try to help. The creature suddenly went still. Despite the near constant clanging of the pipes of the pipes, it felt very quite.

“How you with needles, uh Caz right?”

“Aye, Cameron Mcleary,” his mouth, that along with his hands seemed spared the awful infection, pressed into a flat line before he said, rather defeated,“I’m alright with ‘em”

“Nice, this - ” won’t hurt, no that will not work today, “ - this’ll sting a little.”

He took a couple of hesitant steps forward looking for something that looked like a shoulder that wasn’t covered in growths. Very aware that there was only a certain amount of time before he might take a bad turn again. Caz began to… it might have been crying, there was no where for tears to fall

You cannae help me - you - I cannae be helped 

Rory sighed, did it really matter, he could see half a dozen veins throbbing uncomfortably close to the surface of his skin. He admitted the shot and winced just a little as a small static shock shivered through him. He put his hand on a part of the creature that still clung to a scrap of a blue overall.

“Hey, look I um… I came here with a doctor and…”

“A doctor?” 

“He’s not exactly that sort of doctor,” he added quickly, “and I can’t promise anything but- ”

“That mouthy wee lass is a doctor?”

“ - if there is anyone who could help it’s probably h- wait who?” 

“That your girl? She a doctor then?”

“Yes!” He gripped that part of his shirt, meaning to pull him closer, though the thing didn’t budge and he only really succeeded in pulling him right up to his face, “I mean no, she’s not that some else - but! you know where she is!?”

The thing rumbled, I… I can hear her, she’s with O’Connor. Oh god…it’s after O’Connor I can hear it… all of ‘em, oh god -

“Hey, hey can you help me find her, and the Doctor. We can all get out of here and then we can see if we can help you

He sat up a little but paused, “ I… I cannae - got to fix the fucking generators” 

”Addair looks like he has that sorted- “ Rory began before he realised his mistake.

A change came over him, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it but for the first time he seemed like what he was. Inhuman. Frightening but no longer frightened. His snarl looked almost like a grin as he turned around making straight for the control panel again. 

They could see Addair working the control’s behind the glass. Safe, Rory thought, until he started to crawl in through a small opening in the ceiling. The engineer screamed at the creature came in and kept coming in stretching out longer and longer until all that could be seen out the window was a knot of roiling flesh 

“Shit,” he heard Scooby crouched with a key at the far end of the generators. 

“Get the fuck off me!” The voice came up from inside. 

Your fault! You locked me in there with THAT THING! 

”YOU ARE THAT THING ! YOU FUCKING BEAST - I WAS KEEPING THE REST OF US SAFE”

No! No, nonono 

”Hey, stop!” Rory made it up to the platform but there was no way in. The door was jammed and Caz had… filled up the rest of the cabin, “Stop! I need your help!

Scooby was still cowering at the back of the room. He spun around and caught sight of someone in a vent above them. She stared straight at Rory and put her finger to her lips. Right. No help there then. His foot almost caught against a big piece of piping that had fallen off the wall. Staggering a bit at the weight he picked it up and swung it at the cabin wall

The noice had all the ears of all the human beings ringing but Caz shrieked at writhed a long moment before stilling. 

”Let him go,” he said firmly in the short gap of silence, “You said someone needs to fix the generators and I need your help to find Amy and… yeah. She out there alone, please Caz, I’m really worried.” 

The was the sound of spluttering ignition cut off his rambling and they all turned to see Scooby restarting the generators. The lights came on and Rory saw for the first time saw exactly what damage that ‘thing’ had done to the man. Those painkillers wouldn’t do anything It was only practise that stopped him from retching at the sight. Then just as quickly everything shut off. Not even the emergency lighting flickered. Rory found himself almost grateful. They all stood in the dark and waited.

“Alright, ” he heard Caz say finally, “Alright I’ll help you find your girl.”

Rory breathed a sigh of relief as he heard the sound of Caz coming out of the cabin. Between the vaguely wet shuffling and settling machines he barely heard the soft rumbling words, “You’d better fix this” and an even softer “Fuck off” in reply as he exited the vent. It wasn’t ideal but it would have to do for now.

[laalaaisqueen]

A new day (Where I write Guardian)

Guardian pressed the buttons repeatedly but for some reason he couldn't contact the satellite station for help. The beeping was becoming annoying on his ears but it wasn't like he could turn off a 'no signal'.

He stumbles off his seat and winced as he got onto his legs, his muscles almost constantly hurt from the chair for some reason. "It's dark outside, I'll need to go get my night vision camera, it's in the storage ever since I was caught 'playing' with it."

He heads off for the areas of underground he usually goes only to go. "Smith had locked it from the control room, so I guess that's how I can unlock it."

"I should probably also get some syringes so I can get some custard samples and then get to the satellite station for help."

He walks out of the room, he knows the control room is on his right. He side glances at a pipe lying against a box. "It might come in hand." He shoves it into his hoodie, it made a weird looking lump but whatever.

"…I actually don't really remember how to open the door."

Guardian glances at the value and turns it mindlessly.

"Nothing happened. Maybe I should check the pipeline."

He walks where he vaguely remembers the system of pipelines and sees something missing. He takes the lone pipe out of his hoodie and puts it back in place. And begins turning the values without thinking much about it.

Satisfied when he sees that the pressure is at maximum. The control room door should open now. Though he wished things could be easier, it was exhausting doing so much work like that.

After some more turning of that value and tapping on the buttons on the wall in the control room, he could finally get his night vision camera.

"Alright, let's go."

He switches on the camera, good thing it had full batteries, and started to walk out of the storage when the lights suddenly went out. "What's wrong with the lights?"

A slightly sniffling noise was the only unhelpful response.

Something small with barely any fur walked in front of his only exit.

"What is that thing?"

As soon as he spoke, its ears poked up making Guardian freeze, he had no idea how it could know where he is.

Then it walked away in the other direction.

Guardian slowly comes out, glancing at the crates. "I should maybe hide behind these crates-"

A sharp pitch scream rings out and the small thing is running at him, he almost didn't move out of the way. It tripped over his hair and hit its head on the box. Instead of heavily hurting its skull, the box broke easily. But it had fallen over and now just screams and wiggles as it tries to get up.

That's when he saw it had no arms.

He shakes his head and hurries ahead the best he can without tripping on his own hair. Even when he eventually got to the ladder, he could still hear it screaming.

He pulls up all his hair as quick as he can, luckily the rock didn't catch any of it as it lifted back down again.

"Tinky is still around, so I probably should be careful."

He sticks the syringe into the first custard he finds, which is behind a tall tree.

"I lost signal so let's go check the last known location of Po."

By the bowl of custard, Po's flashlight flicking on and off revealed her swinging body. Her rolled up wide eyes, her expression frozen into a look of surprise.

Guardian silently looks away to stick another syringe into this bowl.

He shakes his head. "Let's hope I don't run into Tinky Winky at the lake."

Luckily he didn't see him and poked another needle inside a bowl.

"Time to check the cave." He found a bowl at the opening of the cave, he's lost count on how many times he's had to call the White Coats every time Laa-Laa escaped through the cave.

"Only one more at the house."

He pauses inches away from the custard, Tinky Winky quietly stared at him with his nose scrunched.

"Can you stay right there? I need to take a sample of that custard and I don't need you killing me Tinky." His fingers barely touched the pocket of his hoodie.

Tinky's black scleras glare at him, something heavily sparks in his left hand until it resembled a weapon of some kind. Guardian tensed up as it started to rain unexpectedly.

Great.

He smacks this new weapon of his into the custard causing it to heat up then explode all over. Guardian luckily ducked in time. Tinky grimaces as he realizes how sticky he is now.

He suddenly braced both hands on the ground, hissing under his breath. Even as the water soaked him, Guardian didn't move.

Tinky's back arched as he shrieked, either it was the time of night or his clothes were starting to tear.

Guardian blinked, oh no, yeah Tinky's height was increasing so yeah his clothes were ripping.

How does custard make him get taller, Tinky didn't need to be taller.

Another bloodcurdling shriek tore Guardian out of his thoughts.

Okay yeah.

"I need to run!"

He didn't know if he would survive this though. He decided to peek a bit behind him as he ran towards the Mountains.

"Oh heck no!"

Tinky was running after him on all dang fours!

He heard another electric sparking noises and his stomach tightened. It hit something…but nothing hurt.

He desperately climbs up to the mountain, hoping it would be too much for Tinky to follow, or that despite being a monster Tinky still will be too scared to leave the Main Land.

When Guardian stepped onto the snow, he realized Tinky must have attacked his hair, since some of it was gone. Well it still was long so it wasn't a big deal.

[aishangotome]

Main Story Chapter 17-20 (LIGHT ENDING): The Third Bang (第三声巨响) | Light  and Night 光與夜之戀

Chapter 17-19

♡———♡

You: I never wanted to abandon you!

I shouted these words with all my might. Osborn sneered, then raised his hand and flung me to an empty space nearby.

He still held the gun in his other hand, the barrel slightly adjusted to point back at the people kneeling on the ground.

You: No!

Bang – a gunshot rang out. The water pipe on the wall burst, not hitting anyone, but the people on the ground screamed in terror.

Osborn seemed to find pleasure in this, tilting his head slightly to appreciate the scene.

You: Osborn, they are not all people who deserve to die. Even for your own sake, stop!

Osborn looked at me coldly. Hearing my words, the sadness in his expression deepened.

I saw Osborn's eyes, seeming to return to the ones I truly knew.

His usually determined gaze hadn't fully cleared yet, his eyes still mixed with a red hue... When the blood red reflected the wound on my neck, he pushed me away with all his strength.

Osborn: Go!

I knew I had no other choice. Instead of staying and becoming a burden, it was better to leave Osborn's sight.

My nose tingled, and I held back the tears that welled up, turning and running towards the exit.

Pushing open the door on the first floor, I saw a familiar figure... It was Lu Ting?! Why was he here?!

The figure approached, and I didn't have time to think. I dodged into the emergency exit.

-

The emergency exit sign, outlined in green fluorescence, was firmly attached to the wall as I descended into the darkness.

I cautiously walked down the stairs, the surroundings eerily quiet, only the sound of water dripping from the pipes onto the floor.

However, after a few steps, I became acutely aware of a pair of eyes following me, silently watching.

I stopped and turned around abruptly – yet the surroundings were empty, only my rapid breathing echoing in the vast space.

Was I just being paranoid... Just then, a clear sound of footsteps came from my side –

Before I could react, the escape door next to me was suddenly opened, and a large hand covered my mouth, dragging me inside.

-

You: Mmm –

My body instinctively struggled until I caught a whiff of absinthe –

I almost froze. The scent approached my ear, and the low voice was the same as before.

Evan: Someone is following you. Don't make a sound, don't move. It will be okay soon.

It was him... It was Evan.

In a protective gesture, he held me close, his movements gentle, his tone soft.

His familiar words brought me back to that night long ago, filled with the aroma of coffee.

From that day on, the time I spent with him felt like a dream.

And the same dream wouldn't happen again. No more sounds came from outside the door, but Evan still hadn't let go of me.

You: You can let go of me now.

Evan lowered his head and looked at me, his red eyes unreadable.

Evan: You don't want to see me that much?

I turned my head away, avoiding his gaze, my body trembling.

How could he be the one to ask that question? He was the one manipulating everything, and he knew the reasons behind it all.

You: Didn't we say goodbye? Why did you save me?

You: Why didn't you hand me over? You did it last time.

You: Or do you want me to be grateful to you?

You: Last time's gratitude, you used it for a lot of things. What do you want to use it for this time?

It wasn't just gratitude, it was definitely more than that, but I kept talking. Evan leaned slightly closer, making the already cramped stairwell feel even more oppressive.

Our breaths mingled as he slowly narrowed his eyes.

Evan: You seem to hate me a lot.

You: You seem to want me to.

Evan didn't answer, but just silently looked at me.

There it was again, that seemingly gentle yet probing gaze. That gaze that always made me feel like I had nowhere to hide.

But now, I didn't want to hide, and I didn't want him to hide either.

You: Don't you think you owe me an explanation?

You: Not more lies.

I didn't know what kind of answer he would give me, or even if he would answer at all, but I asked anyway.

After a long while, he took a step back and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear – a gesture he had done countless times.

Evan: I need the power within you. It can help me achieve things that I currently cannot.

The purpose that had always been hidden behind the curtain was revealed in those two sentences. The red in his eyes was like the blood that spilled when a heart was offered.

You: The power of God?

Evan: You saw the letter?

Did he guess, or was he watching again? I couldn't tell anymore which explanation was more comforting: that he understood me well, or that he cared about me.

Because he didn't understand me, and he didn't care about me. He cared about his goal, and the clearer his goal became, the more insignificant Y/N's existence seemed.

He was resolute, calm, and cruel, like a helmsman on a dark voyage, tearing through the wind and rain in the night, indifferent to any warmth, only fixated on the end of that dark path.

You: Let's make a deal.

Evan: Go on.

You: I'll be your weapon. You do for me what I currently cannot achieve.

There seemed to be a moment of hesitation, but soon, Evan slowly lowered his eyes.

The gaze wasn't pure, but it was straightforward. The hint of approval he showed was neither that of a CEO towards a subordinate, nor Evan towards Y/N, but that of a Blood Clan leader towards a new collaborator.

The dark clouds slowly moved away, and the cold moonlight finally filtered into the room, solemnly separating the two shadows.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

17-20 (NIGHT END) | Return to Masterlist

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[blackjackkent]

Rakha sees the name on a plaque outside the enormous building and comes to a halt.

"The Waning Moon," she says. "The corpse spoke of it. The one in the ritual circle." The strange pale man planning his trial for the woman's soul asked them to come here and find proof of her crimes. He said he would show Rakha the magic that could call a soul back from the dead. "It's a... distillery," she says, repeating the unfamiliar word carefully.

"Certainly stinks like one," Wyll says dryly. And indeed, the death-laden air of Reithwin has a new scent around this building - a scent of thick grain alcohol like some of the bottles of beer they have in their supply packs.

Inside, the building has the same ingrained corruption that they saw in the tollhouse. Blighted roots and rotten wood line the place. The stone floor is battered and scratched with a layer of dust an inch thick. The walls are lined with piping and great metal tanks which still burble almost imperceptibly with liquid.

There is more activity here than in the tollhouse, though. Several figures are prowling the shadowy corners of the place; they look like they might have once been human, but all of them have blank, staring eyes and dry, tight skin without flesh or pulse. They are all mumbling to themselves - nonsensical sentences, snatches of song. Some of them appear to be covered in blood.

Like everything else in Reithwin, they are already dead. But some power or other has them still up and walking around. If she had to guess... the source of that power might be the enormous figure at the center of the place.

(A/N: Yeesh, Thisobald is gross. XD I haven't been able to determine in my lore investigations exactly HOW Thisobald (and Gerringothe and Malus) got as fucked up as they are.)

A huge monstrosity, bloated and trembling, carrying an equally enormous keg on its back, to which it is bound with straps and pipes embedded directly through its swollen stomach. Its skin is grey, mottled with green and black corruption.

Rakha has never seen anything like it, and she wishes she hadn't seen this one. The stink is much stronger here - an overwhelming, nauseating smell of hops and sweat. With greater alacrity even than usual, she begins to picture slicing it open, bursting that straining pressure in its stomach to send its guts exploding along the walls.

She's almost on the point of lashing out with a burst of fire when the creature spots her. It leers unpleasantly at her through its tattered mask and then, astonishingly, gestures her forward towards the battered bar, indicating she should take a seat.

"What in the hells--" Wyll mutters.

Rakha is so surprised that for a moment she loses the thread of her attack completely. She takes a step forward, then another, and then sits as directed, almost before realizing that she is doing so. The barstool has long since lost any padding and it is hard and uncomfortable and too short for her height.

The enormous creature peers down at her and, with a horrible approximation of jovial greeting, roars, "DRINK. GULP IT DOWN. WET YOUR WHISTLE. TELL YOUR STORY."

As it speaks, the stink of the air pours over her like a waterfall, sticking in her hair and melding with the corrupted magic on her skin. She feels her stomach turn sharply.

This has really been a very, very bad series of days.

She shifts on the seat and squints as it places the mug in front of her. Uncomfortably green steam drifts up from the surface of the liquid.

"What is it that you're serving?" she asks faintly.

"ONLY THE BEST!" it crows. Its voice is deep and slurred, less like speech and more like an animal roar. "OBLIVION. AND BEYOND." Its beady eyes narrow knowingly behind the mask.

Oblivion. Rakha has to admit that the idea has some appeal. Oblivion sometimes seems preferable to the beast urges in her head and the corruption around her. Is it poison, then, in the mug? Or simply something very strong, designed to muddle the mind as their drinks in camp do?

"GO ON!" it insists. "CHEERS. BOTTOMS UP. DOWN THE HATCH."

The others have come up behind her now, taking in this surreal scene. "Hells," Rakha hears Lae'zel mutter, amplified through the tadpole connection between them. "The curse has twisted this man beyond measure."

Rakha contemplates the steaming mug for another moment. Then she shakes her head.

She does not want to drink. She did not want Jaheira's wine back at Last Light and she certainly does not want whatever brew this thing has concocted. Appealing as oblivion sounds, she does not like being drunk - the unsteadiness, the blurry perception, the loss of control.

Besides, if it tastes as bad as it smells, she might very well just be sick on the floor.

"No," she says flatly. "I will not drink."

(A/N: LOL. Sometimes i very much wonder how Minthara would have reacted to Hector if she had been around for his experiences.)

There is a long, unbearably tense moment of stillness. Behind her, Rakha hears Wyll take a sharp breath inward and a low chk from Lae'zel and - surprisingly enough - a low laugh from Minthara.

Then the creature draws itself back and up to its full, towering height.

"YOU. WILL. REGRET!!!!!" it bellows. It is suddenly like a scream, offended and petulant and full of deep, chaotic rage. It lifts a hand and strikes downward with incredible force, knocking the mugs off the bar and striking a deep crack through the wood.

Splattered with sizzling drink, Rakha goes flying backwards off her barstool with the impact. She hits the ground rolling and comes up with flame in the palm of her hands.

KILL IT! roars the beast in her head, and for once she is in complete agreement. END ITS MISERABLE LIFE.