#all things considered they genuinely picked the worst time to go to the nether but it worked out well

[sophieeee0105]

really enjoy how Martyn and Etho survived the nether fortress with their snails following them (well martyn died to an ender man in the nether) while CERTAIN people -not naming any names *cough* skizz *cough* Jimmy *cough* - couldn’t go like 10 minutes without dying to their snail

[marsmarbles]

TeeHee have a DamselDuo one shot I wrote. They make me ill. Yay!! (1129 words)

Scott woke up in a cold sweat. His limbs ached, like he had been sleeping there for years instead of just a few minutes. As he surveyed himself for damage, memories came flooding back to him.

Burning hot lava. He had fallen in, been consumed by it while on his nether trip. He can still feel the fire licking his cheeks, encasing his face. Surveying his arms, he could still see burn scars that weren’t going away soon. They would stay to remind him of what he’s done, who he’s just killed.

Who he’s killed. Instead of his arms, his vision focuses on the chains trailing down his left arm. It fazes through the wall, because it’s not actually physical, just an illusion. Scott can see the vague color change from bright green to more of a lime, and he knows what color it will eventually become when it reaches his wrist.

You died. A voice whispers in his ear. Do you know what you did, Star?

“I’m pretty fucking aware, thanks.” He tries not to let the panic seep into his voice, but fails miserably. He can’t deal with the speakers right now, he has to check that he’s ok. Scott jumps out of bed, tripping his way out of the door of his cottage as he runs desperately to follow the chain. It turns from green to lime to a sickly yellow, confirming his worst fears. But really, they were confirmed the second he woke up.

He realizes halfway to his destination that he doesn’t have any of his items. His things were turned to ash in the lava, all of his iron armor and quartz lost to the fire. He ignores this best he can, trying not to think about the hours of work he wouldn’t get back.

Instead he runs faster, his footfalls echoing across the valley. Scott can feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes, whether from the stress or the wind whipping at his eyes, he isn’t sure. The other house comes into view, half built with three walls and several support beams. The chain shrinks as he gets closer, revealing the almost sunflower yellow. 

He rips open the door, looking around the house. Joel is in the middle of the floor, curled up with his head between his knees. “Joel, Joel, I’m so sorry! I-I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to, and-“

“Get out.”

“What?” 

Joel lifted his head from its perch. Scott realized his normally perfect hair was tangled everywhere, the green streak having changed to yellow. His eyes were a similar color, as were the chains around his wrists. He looked horrible, to put it lightly, as it was obvious he had shed at least a few tears. “You promised that you would keep me safe. You lied to me. Get out, Scott, before I go hunt down Pearl.”

“Joel, I-“

“Do you not have fucking ears? I said, ‘get out!’”

Scott flinched away, but refused to leave that easily. When Joel saw his stubborn expression, he just shuffled away and put his head down again. Scott looked around the half finished house, trying to find something, anything, he could use to apologize. He didn’t think he could stand for Joel to be mad at him, not like this.

Scott made his way around the house, doing his best to avoid the sullen figure on the floor. He opened the chests quietly, finding building supplies, stray snacks, and… a hairbrush. He smiled softly and picked it up, heading over to Joel and sitting behind him. 

Scott remembered the first time he had done this. It was their second day in these stupid games. He had discovered that, one, he was chained to Joel (obviously a cruel trick from the Watchers) and two, his hair was very long. Scott had experience with long hair, but Joel didn’t, and it showed. He had laughed and taken one of his ribbons, doing his best to take the leaves and sticks out of his hair before he braided it to match his. That was the first time he had seen Joel genuinely smile at him.

Now he took his hair again in his hands, humming as he brushed it out. Joel let him, keeping his head down. Slowly, he untangled the knots. It was hard work, considering how messy it was, but he finished soon enough. Softly putting the brush down, he split the mass into three strands and started braiding them together. Joel had lifted his head up at that point, not quite a pleased expression on his face, but it was close enough for Scott.

When he had finished, he used a stray ribbon he had (yellow, how ironic) to tie the end so it would stay. Scott silently slid around so he was facing Joel’s face now, and clasped his hands.

“I know there’s no real way I can apologize for what I’ve done, but I truly am sorry. I will do my best to be more careful. I-I woke up, and I was so afraid I had lost you, and-“ He took a shaky breath. “I am so, so sorry. I understand if you can’t forgive me. I’ll leave no-“ Scott stood to walk towards the door, but a hand caught his wrist and pulled him back down.

“I,” Joel took a breath. “I can forgive you. It’s fine, it would happen one day, we knew it was coming.” Joel offered him a toothy grin. “I still hate you though.”

Scott let out a wet laugh. “I love you too, Joel.” He dragged him into a hug, placing his face into his shoulder. “I love you too.”

The repetition meant something, something deeper that neither of them wanted to admit. When Scott pulled away, he offered a smile before he stood. “I’ll go tell Lizzie and Pearl what happened. I’ll be over tonight though.”

When he was less than fifteen feet from the house, an annoying voice spoke in his ear once again. 

Ooohhh, someone has a crush.

“I have standards. I don’t just fall for every guy I meet, you know.”

I don’t know, that seemed to be the case with Jimmy and Martyn and-

“Stop right there! Nope, nope, I will not have the gods metaling in my romantic life. That is something I would like to have control over, thank you very much.”

All in due time, Star.

The Speaker snickered as it flew away. Scott scoffed and kept walking, towards the house that Lizzie and Pearl inhabited. So what if he liked Joel a little more than normal? It wasn’t like anything would happen about it.

Still, as he walked, he couldn’t keep his mind off of how much yellow surprisingly fit Joel.

sorry it’s so long but I love them. Maybe expect more fanfic coming soon of Scar and Sausage???

-🌻

I’m…….im fucking speechless…..THIS IS SO GOOOODDDD RAMXKVKDKCMVMDMCN!!!!! Have you really read through my whole page???? Cuz all of this is too accurate.

Also also also!!!! HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS GONNA HAVE THE SPEAKERS CALL SCOTT STAR!!!!!???!?!!?!! while I was reading I was “WHOT!!! THEY’RE SPYING ON ME THEY’RE SPYING ON ME!!!

You also captured the Speakers’s personality perfectly!!!

The whole time I was reading I was both smiling uncontrollably and on the verge of tears thank you so much!!! I’m so excited to read more(if you make more that is no pressure)!!!!

[avengerscompound]

Until the End of the World - 6

Until the End of the World: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1658

Rating:  E

Warnings: pregnancy

Synopsis: Four years after Steve and Bucky got to the bottom of the HYDRA conspiracy that had led to you and your son being hunted for the first three years of his life, you, Bucky, and Steve have carved out a nice life together.  Things are calm and you feel like a family unit.  When Geo starts calling Bucky and Steve ‘dad’, a decision is made to try and add to your family.

Things aren’t as calm as they seem.  When your pregnancy hits the papers, HYDRA rears its head once again, and Steve and Bucky need to track you down to protect the family they had created.

Chapter 6

Things were a little bit of a whirlwind after you got that positive pregnancy test back.  You suddenly realized how much needed to be done before the baby arrived, and panicked because all of a sudden you felt the need to do them all at once.  There were renovations to the apartment to get underway.  You needed to finish your master’s thesis.  You had baby things to buy - furniture, clothes, diapers.  That had sent you on a spiral where you got hung up on how you’d done this the first time on the run.  Living out of your car with an infant who didn’t even have his own bed.

Those days were over and now you had people.  Steve and Bucky noticed the panic spiral you went into, and sat you down and helped you through it.  Plans were laid out to move the four of you into a spare apartment within a few weeks so construction could get started.  They mapped out a timetable to make sure you had plenty of time to work uninterrupted on your thesis. They assured you that before the baby was born they would buy everything needed and that Pepper might even throw you a baby shower given you’d been so involved in throwing hers. They had reassured you about the life you had given Geo, telling you that you’d done more than most to keep him safe and he was growing up to be a kind and decent person.  That everything you couldn’t give him then, he had now, and more and that this new baby would be safe and loved just like Geo was, which was the most important part.

Which just left the doctor’s appointments.  You started by going down to the Stark Tower medical bay to get a blood test to confirm the pregnancy, have a check-up, and work out when your due date should be.  They then gave you a referral to an ObGyn and booked you in to have an ultrasound at the eight-week mark.

Even though five weeks was only three week's wait from the appointment, it felt like forever.  You wanted to share the news with Geo and they wanted to tell their friends.  So when you changed into the hospital gown and got into the ultrasound chair, you were buzzing with excitement, but you had the feeling that as excited and nervous as you were, Steve and Bucky were doubly so.

While your boyfriends were fantastic fathers to Geo, they had never done this bit.  They didn’t have the experience of fear and excitement as you waited for the shape of the baby to show up on the screen - part of you expecting the worst but mostly just excited to see how much they had grown.  They hadn’t done birthing classes or felt the kicks of their child as it grew.  None of that was important to being a parent, it was just new for them.

Bucky moved quickly to your side and held your hand and Steve shifted in close beside him.  An ultrasound tech who worked on staff stepped into the room.  “Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes,” she said, respectfully.

“Miss Brown,” Steve said, with a nod.

“Can we maybe, not do the Captain America thing in here?” You asked.

The technician giggled and nodded.  “I’ll try.  Not sure I can do it.”

Steve chuckled and a soft blush crept into his cheeks.  “Of course, sweetheart,” he said, running his hand through the back of his hair.

“So are we all ready to see this baby?”  Brown asked.

“We definitely are,” you answered.

She adjusted the chair so you were raised higher and lying back more.  You spread your legs as she prepared the probe.  “Alright, try to relax.  There will be a pinch,” she said.

She pushed the probe inside you.  You squeezed Bucky’s hand as you winced at the pinch.  Internal ultrasounds weren’t painful exactly, but they were pretty far from comfortable. Not to mention having a stranger poke around in your nether regions was not what you’d call a fun day out.

Steve and Bucky kept their eyes locked onto the screen, while you were slightly more interested in their reaction.  Your gaze flicked from the screen to their faces and back trying to gauge how they were feeling.

You saw the little bean shape that was the embryo growing inside you before Steve or Bucky picked up on what it was.  The flutter of its heart was so clear to you and a smile spread across your face.  It was just a vague blob but it was the start of a new path of your life, one you could see as being settled and happy and full of love.

There was part of you that worried that it wouldn’t come to pass.  After all, the last time you were in this situation you were with someone you loved just as much as you loved Steve and Bucky thinking this was going to be part of the happily ever after you had already started.  Instead, you’d ended up a widow on the run with an infant.

You hoped this was different.  Steve and Bucky had taken you off the radar and disbanded the group that had been hunting you.  You lived in a secure private military installation.  Geo went to school at a very secure private school.  There was no reason for you not to be safe now.

“Do you see this little shape here?”  The tech said, pointing out the embryo on the screen.  “Looks a little like a kidney bean?”

“Is that it?”  Steve asked.

“That’s your baby alright,” the tech confirmed.

A smile slowly spread over Bucky’s face.  It was pure and genuine and full of love and hope.  He beamed up at the screen as the tech pointed out different things. The heartbeat, the head, and the arm and leg buds.  He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

Steve looked more nervous than Bucky.  His eyes were flicking all over the screen and watching the notes the tech typed up as she did her measurements.  “It’s alright, right?  Everything is fine?”

“Looks good so far, Captain Rogers,” Brown said.  “I’ll forward this to the doctors here and your ObGynthough.  They can go through it with you.”

He relaxed and the smile on his face got bigger.  He turned to you and Bucky, leaning in a little. “That’s our baby,” he whispered. 

“Can you believe it?”  Bucky asked.  “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it, Buck,” Steve said.  “It’s happening.”

Bucky grinned and pecked Steve’s lips and then turned to you and kissed your temple.

The tech removed the probe and hit a button on the machine that started printing out some of the pictures.  “We’re all done here.  Like I said, the results will be forwarded to the doctors,” she said as she cleaned off the probe and lowered the chair back down.  “You can go get dressed if you like.”

“You wiped yourself off and got up, heading into the cubical to change.  You could hear them talking as you redressed, though you couldn’t hear what they were saying.  When you came back out, Bucky and Steve were looking over the little print out of the ultrasound and they both looked up at you expectantly.  “You ready?”

“Yep,” you said.  “Good to go.”

The three of you headed out to the elevator, and both men wrapped an arm around you as you rode it back up to the apartment.  “Can we tell Geo now?”  Bucky asked.

You considered the question for a moment.  It was still early and things still could go wrong, but your experience had been that that was true no matter what.  You had the little printout of the embryo.   Now was as good a time as any to let Geo know he was going to be a big brother.

You nodded as the elevator stopped and the three of you got out.  “Yeah.  We should do it.  Let’s get him from school and take him to get ice cream and we’ll tell him that he’s going to be a big brother.”

“That sounds perfect, sweetheart,” Steve said.  “What about the others?”

You giggled and headed into the apartment.  “So excited to tell everyone.”

“This is big for us,” Steve explained.  “We didn’t think we’d ever get a family and kids.  Especially not with each other.  Especially not with each other and someone else.  We want to share it with the rest of the people we care about.  There’s not always a lot of happiness to go around.”

“You haven’t told anyone at all yet?  Not even, this is a secret you can’t tell anyone?”  You asked.

“I swear, I haven’t,” Steve said, shaking his head.

“Not even Sam?”  You asked.

“No, not even Sam,” Steve agreed.

“Bucky?”  You asked.

He held up his hands.  “Who would I even tell?”

“Okay,” you said with a nod.  “We can hold a dinner party, invite all your friends, and Geo can tell them.”

Steve smiled and pulled you into his arms.  Bucky wrapped himself around you from behind and nuzzled into your neck.  “That sounds completely perfect,” Steve said.

// NEXT

[felidaefighter]

Our Metaphorical Get-Along Sweater

In which Wilbur thinks of Ranboo as an arch-nemesis while Ranboo is just There Vibing and also, Phil has adopted Ranboo, making for two very different siblings and a very interesting relationship 

[Fluff, comedy, fix-it fic, some light angst that is immediately softened, work in progress; every chapter will swap POV]

Chapter Two: A Second Chance From The Second Son

     For Ranboo, coming home empty-handed was always the worst part about his trips, second only to not seeing Michael for a while. So, before even stopping at home to unload, the moment he got back to familiar lands he headed to Snowchester, spending the entire afternoon with his son and only heading back to his own house as the sun was beginning to set. In truth, he had been grateful for the accidental timing regarding his trip. It allowed him time to think. Although he and Phil had discussed Wilbur before, he hadn’t been alive during that, and Ranboo honestly felt a prick of guilt at how he knew that might’ve changed things-- he highly doubted Phil would’ve adopted him had Wilbur still been alive, after all.

     It definitely didn’t help, either, the way Tommy had spoken about Wilbur-- though Ranboo had known Ghostbur, and knew that in some ways they were likely similar, they weren’t the same-- it made him wary of Wilbur; not just for himself, but for Tommy and Tubbo’s sake as well. Still, he believed in second chances, and a second chance at life was something pretty rare. He wanted to be optimistic. And although Phil was going to be biased, because Wilbur was his son-- his son that he had raised from birth, especially-- Ranboo trusted Phil’s judgement on people more than nearly anyone else save for his husband. He wanted to get to know the man. Not the man he used to be, not the man he was, but the man he is now.

     After putting away the small amount of trinkets and excess materials Ranboo had picked up on his adventure, he checked his memory book to see if it had anything to offer in terms of what his next step was. Oh, right! He’d wanted to give Wilbur a proper tour of what had changed; Tommy had succeeded in showing him around, after all, but if Ranboo knew Tommy (and he did, very well), there was no way Tommy had actually given a good explanation of the events behind the changes to the man. Now he just had to offer. He just… had to do it. Yeah. Noting that the sun had only just set, it was reasonable to assume that Wilbur and Phil were still awake. Very very awkwardly for someone who had every right to be there given his adoption, Ranboo knocked on the door to Phil’s house.

     Phil let him in with an easy smile. “Ranboo, mate, you don’t have to knock y’know.” It kind of felt strange not to though? Considering the recent change in situation. “Yeah, but with Wilbur here, I don’t wanna interrupt anything, y’know?” He asked Phil with an awkward laugh. “You’re just as much part of the family as he is,” Phil assured, and Ranboo felt himself untense a little. “Welcome back from your adventure, by the way! Were you successful?” Phil asked, realizing he hadn’t yet. “I don’t wanna talk about it,” Ranboo moaned miserably, and Phil laughed. “Not well then! Got it.” Ranboo shook his head. “Everything else I can find no problem! Like, come on, man, this one isn’t even for me.” The two stood in a pleasant moment together.

     Right. The reason he was here. He had to get it over with one way or the other. “Hey Phil, I was wondering actually, is Wilbur around…?” He asked before he could convince himself not to. Phil looked at him quizzically. “Yeah, he’s upstairs. Wil!” Phil called, and Wilbur immediately stuck his torso out the ladder hole, looking like he very much would rather be elsewheres. “Ranboo wanted to speak to you,” Phil explained, and Wilbur disappeared for a moment before climbing down the ladder properly. “Okay, I’m here, I see you. What’s up?” Wilbur asked, and although he looked like he’d been interrupted genuine curiosity colored his words. Admittedly, it was a little intimidating to have Wilbur’s attention. Ranboo had just… heard so much about him.

     “Oh, well uh… you got a tour of what had changed from Tommy, right?” He started. Wilbur tilted his head. “Yeah, you could call it that.” Ranboo nodded; he’d expected something like that. “Well, I was wondering-- if you’re free tomorrow, would you like a proper tour? I know Tommy is horrible at being straightforward and explaining things like that, so it might be nice to have an actual explanation right?” Ranboo asked. There it was, the big, awkward sibling bonding question. Huoagh. Ranboo turned to Phil. “No offense, Phil, but you and Techno don’t really…” Ranboo trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish his sentence. Phil shook his head. “None taken, you’re right. Aw that sounds nice eh Wil? It’d be good to get you all caught up.” Wilbur looked a bit taken aback, but not unpleasantly so. That was good! That seemed like a good thing.

     “You know what? Sure, Ranboo. I’m down to try that.” Ranboo grinned in excitement. “Awesome! Okay, tomorrow, I’ll give you the grand tour.” Wilbur nodded, continuing. “I’ll admit Tommy left some holes in his stories-- almost as big as the one I apparently left in L’Manberg,” Wilbur added with dark chuckle. Ooohhh okay that didn’t seem like the greatest sign but dark humor wasn’t necessarily indicative of anything bad-- though it did, admittedly, make Ranboo feel a little wary. Caution would probably be best when handling everything. But that was okay! Ranboo was a cautious guy. He felt confident in his ability to, well, be cautious. “Yeahhh that’ll happen with Tommy,” Phil said to Wilbur in agreement, and Ranboo nodded in turn. The three chatted idly for a short bit, and then Ranboo left for the night, ready to sleep in his own bed after a week of travel, with the plans for tomorrow secured.

------

     Ranboo woke up and did his morning routine, bracing himself for the plans he’d made for the day. In truth, he wasn’t really sure what to make of Wilbur still. He’d had an entire week to think about it, but it just seemed so complicated. He’d heard good things from Phil and terrible things from Tommy, about the man who had created a nation and also was now his older brother. It would be good to get to know him, though, Ranboo reasoned-- so the tour was a good idea. Ranboo found Wilbur tinkering with some things in Phil’s house, having very clearly been awake for quite some time. “You’ve been up a while,” Ranboo said, and Wilbur looked about to scowl at the intrusion before settling himself into a more neutral expression and nodding. “The sunrise; It’s beautiful,” he explained-- and suddenly Ranboo felt as if Wilbur might be okay after all. They headed off in relative silence aside from a passing remark from Wilbur about the magma cubes that consistently jumped to their deaths; the only thing of note about the nether was the vaguely safer renovation of the community portal.

     “The community house looks different,” Wilbur commented, and Ranboo grimaced. “Oohhh yeah. It got blown up. Dream--” At least, as far as anyone knew it was Dream-- “Blew it up and framed Tommy for it while he was in exile. He used it as an excuse to blow up L’Manberg. With uh, Phil and Techno’s help actually, but y’know.” An unreadable expression crossed over Wilbur’s face, and he nodded. “Dream’s a tricky bastard, that doesn’t surprise me. I do remember Tommy’s exile, now, by the way, it--” Rage flashed across Wilbur’s face, almost too quickly for Ranboo to take note, but not quite quick enough-- before he took a breath and looked calm again. “It was rough,” He surmised instead. Ranboo nodded. That had been a horrible time. He’d tried writing letters, but, well. Ranboo decided to focus on the tour before the queasy feeling in his gut grew too big.

     “Over therrrre is Kinoko Kingdom or whatever it’s called-- Sapnap and Karl live there I think? Also George maybe but that guy is always asleep so honestly who knows,” Ranboo said, gesturing to their right/the East. Wilbur looked like he was calculating something. “So there are new nations here after all?” Ranboo shrugged. “I mean I wouldn’t really call it a nation-- I don’t think there’s a government so much as a lot of buildings that nobody even lives in honestly.” Wilbur just frowned at that, despite it being true. Ranboo was beginning to think that maybe it’d be a lot harder to get on his good side than he’d initially hoped.

     Ranboo walked out the other side of the community house and Wilbur trailed behind idly, long-legged stride making up for his casual pace. His dark eyes flitted about, searching for things the passage of time had and hadn’t touched. “The prime path is pretty much the same,” Ranboo said, desperately hoping the shift away from nation-talk would lighten Wilbur’s mood. “Oh! On the right there is Captain Puffy’s therapy office. I’ve heard about it from--” Actually, that was none of Wilbur’s business, no offense to him. “--From somewhere. That’s why it says ‘therapuffy’ on the sign.” Personally, Ranboo was very pleased with that pun. Puffy had done a good job with it. And Wilbur-- Wilbur actually quirked an eyebrow. “She’s started a therapy office, has she?” He mused, and Ranboo hummed in affirmation. “I s’ppose that’s useful. I’m sure a lot of people around here need it.”

     “Apparently there’s a discreet box you can drop a note into to make an appointment,” Ranboo said, which was about as close as he was going to get to saying his real thoughts which were more along the lines of oh my god PLEASE get therapy you of all people need it especially considering you made your dad help you kill yourself and have been dead and gone for years in what you essentially described as hell. “That’s cool,” Wilbur said, and Ranboo nearly wilted a little, but he did take a small victory in the lingering glance that he noticed Wilbur left it towards it. Ranboo allowed himself to hope just a teensy bit that maybe Wilbur would visit again after the tour with nobody else around.

     “On the left here is Niki and Puffy’s flowershop and bakery, and Fundy and I’s icecream shop we made to compete with them. Ours is just a little bit taller,” Ranboo added smugly. “They’re both kind of abandoned though, because--” Oh, that was not a good look on Wilbur’s face. It passed almost immediately, which was almost even more concerning. “Go on, Ranboo, what were you saying?” Wilbur prompted softly, and Ranboo hesitated but it was clear he wasn’t going to get anything out of that look. It was also, frankly, not something he was willing to unpack with the older man. “They’re both kind of abandoned, because I haven’t seen Fundy in a long while and I think Niki and Puffy kind of drifted apart? They were dating at one point I think,” He rambled, and relaxed a bit as Wilbur smirked, easily caught up in gossip and drama.

     They passed by Church Prime-- Wilbur declining to go in for personal reasons-- Punz’s house, the karaoke stage, and the weird, pale-checked building, which had all been there since long before Ranboo’s time and thus didn’t earn anything more than a passing, melodramatic comment from Wilbur about familiarity and stagnation and how sometimes even the land couldn’t change. Ranboo didn’t really think that was a fair assessment, though. Basalt columns supported chunks of Punz’s house that bore visible fire damage. Nearly every time he’d passed by the checked building the inside had been renovated. He was pretty sure even the karaoke stage had been patched up a few times. But to be honest, being around Wilbur was awkward. Even the idea that he knew things that Wilbur didn’t didn’t seem quite right, since Wilbur had been there first-- with both L’Manberg and being Phil’s son-- even if he’d missed some time. So for now, Ranboo would just stick to the facts.

     “That’s a Christmas building,” Wilbur said, aghast, pulling Ranboo out of his thoughts. “Hm? Oh! Yeah, that’s-- I think somebody lives there but I’m not sure actually. It’s definitely--” Ranboo made a noise, and Wilbur nodded his head at the noise. “Yeah. See, that’s something you and I can agree upon, Ranboo.” Wilbur then swivelled his head around and did a double-take. “Is that gay Target? ...Didn’t that used to be a walmart?” They passed the Targay, beginning the steep climb up the mountain, and Ranboo nodded, bemused. “It’s Targay, I think. Puffy renovated the walmart. It’s kinda been ‘opening soon’ since before I even got here though so I think it’s effectively abandoned. Tommy and I were talking about that the other day, actually.”

     Speaking of, they reached the top of the mountain and Tommy’s plot of land-- “Tommy’s shit-fucking-shack is the same,” Wilbur said dryly, fake disgust in his voice betrayed by the fondness on his face. And there it was-- proof. Not for anybody other than Ranboo himself, of course, but it was there. Wilbur did care about something. Or someone, at least. Someone that Ranboo cared about, too. That was enough to get Ranboo’s confidence in his plan back up a bit. Good, actually. He liked being optimistic. Preferred it without a doubt to anxiety spirals and the idea that everything was doomed. “Pretty much,” Ranboo admitted, “But there’s a bunch of flowers and stuff around that were planted when-- when he was gone for a bit. He took down everything else. I guess he likes it looking like a hole in the hill.” Wilbur rolled his eyes.

     “Do you want to see the hotel and the prison and Snowchester next, or would you like to visit L’Manberg?” Ranboo asked, hoping Wilbur wouldn’t realize the near-slip-up had been alluding to Tommy’s death. The mischievous, conniving look in Wilbur’s eyes clouded, and the man looked thoughtful. Ranboo waited anxiously, fiddling with his hands. “Let’s go visit L’Manberg,” He said, taking the lead, and Ranboo followed behind. The man’s strides were purposeful, and though Ranboo did think that Wilbur could change, something about the way he was moving hinted at… lingering ideologies about the former nation. Also, Ranboo was internally pouting a bit about Wilbur taking charge now. It was meant to be his tour.

     “I haven’t seen L’Manberg since I blew it all to kingdom come,” Wilbur remarked, Ranboo trailing nervously behind him. Confusion temporarily overrode his nerves, and Ranoo tilted his head. “Are you su-- really? I thought you said you remembered stuff that happened when you were-- Ghostbur?” Wilbur downright scowled at the mention of Ghostbur, and waved off the mention like he was shooing away a pesky fly. “I don’t see what Ghostbur has to do with that,” Wilbur huffed, and Ranboo was silent for a moment. Maybe-- hm, that would be interesting wouldn’t it? Because Ghostbur couldn’t remember the bad things, and the only example Wilbur had given of remembering Ghostbur’s memories was how awful exile had been for Tommy.

     Ranboo was so focused on theorizing and figuring out how he might propose said theory to Wilbur that he nearly careened right into the man, who had stopped dead right at the end of the prime path. Luckily, he saved himself the dignity and Wilbur his dramatic moment right at the last second. If Wilbur noticed, he didn’t comment on it. He was staring out over the massive crater. “Wow,” Wilbur breathed mournfully, “I really did do a number on this place, huh.” He stepped off the prime path, minding the pockets where fire and explosives had scarred the earth. Ranboo watched him walk across the glass-- eerily, like a ghost taking long-forgotten trails, the transparent glass helping the illusion. Except, no, Wilbur was alive, and more importantly--

     “You didn’t, actually,” Ranboo said bluntly, and Wilbur snapped out of whatever daze he had been in, the illusion shattered as the contradictory statement made him virulent and very much alive. “What?” Ranboo admittedly reeled a little at the tone, but come on. He didn’t. “You didn’t,” Ranboo reiterated; “Techno, Phil, and Dream were the ones to blow it to bedrock. Your explosion didn’t get anywhere close. And the reason I know that is because it flooded afterwards, but it didn’t even flood that deep. It’s why L’Manberg-- the one I knew at least-- was rebuilt on stilts,” Ranboo explained, carefully watching the expression on Wilbur’s face. The disdain on Wilbur’s face was slowly blotted out by confusion.

     “What do you mean rebuilt on stilts?” Wilbur asked, and it was definitely visible on Ranboo’s face when it clicked for him that his theory had been correct. Wilbur didn’t actually remember Ghostbur’s memories-- not all of them, at least. He only thought he did because he, well, couldn’t remember the rest. Ranboo knew the feeling. “And what does that look mean?” Wilbur scoffed. “Well, you--” Ranboo felt his face get hot, the center of attention and eyes being on him never really the best for his enderman instincts. Ranboo opted instead to glance down at the bedrock, visible through the glass. “After-- after you died. L’Manberg was rebuilt. Tubbo said the land was still good, so when it started flooding they built it up on stilts and platforms. It was mainly Ghostbur that did the rebuilding, actually!” With the last fact, Ranboo glanced back up at Wilbur, who was just staring, trying to process what he’d just heard.

     “So, you’re saying… I didn’t have a big impact on this place.” Wilbur prompted. Ranboo just sighed. “Well, you did. It just wasn’t all one thing, y’know? I know Tubbo-- I know Tubbo liked having L’Manberg around and so did Tommy. They were devastated when, well--” Ranboo gestured to the visible bedrock deep, deep below them-- “That happened. And Ghostbur rebuilt it, he made it beautiful, with the lanterns.” Ranboo paused. “Phil told me a bit about the lanterns, actually.” Something indiscernible crossed over Wilbur’s face. Then he looked almost bitter-- then-- Wilbur sighed. “See, Ranboo, I appreciate your trying to ‘tell me I’m not a bad guy’ or whatever,” Wilbur said, emphasizing the quotations with a false, mocking tone, and gesturing dramatically, “But it doesn’t really matter. This is my legacy! This crater. Everyone knows I’m a bad person. That’s just fact.”

     “...I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Ranboo said quietly, wincing at how unconvincing that must sound even as genuine as he meant it. Wilbur scowled. “Why? Because Phil said?” Ranboo immediately countered, offended that Wilbur thought he couldn’t have his own opinions. “...No, not because Phil said. Because I don’t know you at all. We haven’t gotten a chance to meet. And I think that maybe you were a bad person, if you blew up L’Manberg, but I also think that you were going through some things that affected you and I think that people can change. Even if it’s only been a few years for us, it’s been thirteen years for you. You aren’t going to be the same person as before. And you deserve a second chance. Everyone does.”

     Wilbur was the one to turn away this time, and Ranboo politely pretended not to notice the way his eyes had become more reflective and puffy. He seemed like he had something he wanted to say, and Ranboo would’ve let him, really-- but instead he looked out over the glass at the bedrock and rubble and dead vines that hadn’t yet been reclaimed by nature. Wilbur took a deep breath, and Ranboo waited in nervous anticipation. “What do you mean it’s ‘only been a few years for you’, Ranboo?” Wilbur asked. Oh. That had not been-- but he did have a good point. That was probably some important information that Tommy had apparently also left out.

     “Tommy… didn’t tell you that either. Figures,” Ranboo muttered. “Okay so, when Tommy came back and said he’d been gone for months, it had only been two days, so…” Ranboo began, and Wilbur held up a hand, signalling him to pause for a moment. “Thank you for the tour, Ranboo,” Wilbur said, “But this has been a lot. Let’s walk and talk on this one, eh?” He sniffed, not in a cry-y way, in his usual talking way, (even if one would think it’d be in a cry-y way-- Ranboo tried to not let his thoughts wander too far, though), and said softly, “I’d like to go home.” It did catch Ranboo a little off-guard. There was still more to the tour! But… well, it did make sense, L’Manberg being what it was. Yeah. That seemed reasonable. “Alright, yeah,” Ranboo said, and the two found their way back to the prime path. “So since Tommy had been gone for two days but lived-- or unlived I guess?-- for months-- we figured time moves differently in the afterlife or whatever it is, right?” Ranboo explained the time differential to Wilbur as they walked, and the man was surprisingly free of snarky commentary the rest of the way home.

-----

     They had trudged through the snow in complete silence, leaving Ranboo to his swirling thoughts about how he felt about Wilbur being his brother. He was trying hard to not think about it actually. The mix of the family thoughts and the snow on the ground did remind him that they never went to Snowchester for the tour. Honestly? Ranboo was okay with that. He hated to admit it, but he did not trust Wilbur around Michael. Okay, in all fairness, he didn’t really trust anyone other than Tubbo around Michael. Call it paranoia, or maybe “an awareness of what the rest of the people in the realm were like”. It was hard enough dealing with having a sibling when he’d only just gained a parent-- Ranboo really didn’t need to deal with whatever thoughts might come with Wilbur technically being Michael’s uncle. He shuddered to himself, and Wilbur glanced over questioningly, but Ranboo muttered about the cold and the man seemed to buy it.

     Phil was waiting for them when they got home, and opened the door warmly to both of them. He shot Ranboo a questioning look when he didn’t immediately come inside, but Ranboo subtly shook his head-- Phil giving an almost unnoticeable tilt upwards of his head in acknowledgement. Talk later. “Sooo how’d it go?” Phil asked conversationally from the doorway, and Wilbur was startled out of his own thoughts. Luckily he didn’t catch the exchange they’d had. “Huh? Oh.” Wilbur turned to Ranboo thoughtfully. “The tour was lovely, thank you. You definitely did a better job than Tommy, at least. And cleared some things up for me.” Something about Wilbur, Ranboo had noticed, was always guarded. He guessed that’d be the paranoia. Or maybe old habits from being sneaky-- Phil had told some stories of when Wilbur was younger.

     “I’m glad,” Ranboo said sheepishly though, “I’m glad I could do that and, clear some things up for you, yeah. And it was nice getting to hear your stories about the things that had been there for a while, too,” Ranboo offered, an open invitation for reconciliation, even if he still wasn’t sure what he’d done that made him and Wilbur get off on such a strange foot. Wherever Wilbur’s thoughts had been drifting to, they quickly snapped back at Ranboo’s softer tone. “Yes,” Wilbur said curtly, “Thank you for the tour, see you around.” And he promptly slipped past Phil, who was muttering baffled protests, into his room upstairs.

     “What?” Phil squawked out as the door shut, and then turned to Ranboo. “I don’t-- what-- I’m sorry Ranboo I genuinely don’t know what that was about.” And Ranboo laughed, relieved to have someone else sharing in his confusion, feeling at home with Phil for the first time in a while since it was just the two of them. “I don’t either!” He admitted, sharing in Phil’s trait for giggling in confusion. “But I think I said something that maybe he thought was nice and he doesn’t like the fact that he thought it was nice…?” Phil sighed, and then laughed. “Yeah, yep, that’d do it. Wil’s-- He’ll come around. He’ll come around. He just needs some time to adjust to the situation properly.” Phil narrowed his eyes at Ranboo. Uh-Oh. It was his dad mode.

     “And so do you. You can’t let him bully you around just ‘cuz he’s older or you think he gets more rights as my son due to seniority.” Ranboo flushed, feeling very caught-in-the-act. “Okay well hey wait a minute you didn’t have to call me out that hard,” he fake-complained nervously, and the two of them laughed. “I did though! It’s true!” Phil protested. “You’re as much family as he is,” Phil continued softly, and Ranboo desperately tried to not let his eyes water.

     Phil, either due to his allergies for prolonged contact with softer emotions, or sensing the need for a mood change out of worry for Ranboo’s allergies to water, decided to change the subject back to Wilbur’s style of siblinghood. “--And Wilbur will bully you around ‘cuz he’s older. And you can’t let him get away with it or he’s gonna get away with it forever,” Phil scolded, “Ranboo, you have to grow a backbone.” Well that just hurt. “I have one, that’s not fair!” Phil, however, put his hands on his hips and looked sternly at Ranboo, who was thoroughly pouting. Then he sighed and laughed softly. “Fair enough, fair enough. That’s a start.”

     They stood on the porch together for a moment, enjoying one another’s company. Phil sighed again. “How did the tour actually go? How was Wil?” He asked finally. Right! Now this was something Ranboo was prepared for. He straightened up, much to Phil’s dismay (because Phil was much shorter than Ranboo as it was). Ranboo laughed a little internally at that, but he was rather proud of his observation skills in this matter, so he was all business on the outside (not that this was business). “He was kinda melodramatic, honestly,” Ranboo explained, and Phil nodded; it did make sense that that wasn’t out of the ordinary. “I did point out to him where therapy was,” He added, Phil bursting out laughing in response to that with a sort of ‘bwahahaha’ sound. “Good,” Phil said, before letting Ranboo continue.

     “He did… he did get a bit weird when it came to L’Manberg,” Ranboo admitted, and Phil sobered some at that. “He took over the tour and started talking about how it was his fault. Phil, I don’t--” Ranboo leaned down in a conspiratorial whisper, Phil drawing him closer to the door and away from any windows or line of sight. “--I don’t think he actually remembers Ghostbur’s memories. He just thinks he does. He only remembers the bad things from Ghostbur’s memories.” Phil paused. “Ghostbur had bad memories?” His eyes widened. “Oh.”

     Ranboo nodded. “Yeah. I did clear up some stuff-- like how the bedrock leveling was you and Techno and Dream and not him, and he’d only been gone for a few years as opposed to thirteen like on his end.” Phil nodded some more, thoughtfully. “Ah, yeah. Thank you for clearing that up, Ranboo, I honestly-- time for me is, well, y’know.” He made a so-so gesture with his hand and Ranboo understood. “I do feel kinda bad about that, but uh-- I still stand by it. It had to be done. That government was corrupt.” Ranboo nodded. He had complicated feelings about that-- he supposed most of his feelings were complicated, actually-- but ultimately he respected Phil’s decision, and liked where he’d ended up because of it.

     “And I take it you didn’t show him Snowchester.” Ranboo grimaced. “Yeahhh I didn’t really want to have that conversation. Plus it was in the opposite direction of L’Manberg, so…” Phil nodded once again. “Good thinking. We can chat some more later, yeah? When you’re comfortable doing so in a place that isn’t the freezing cold.” Ranboo nodded, grateful that Phil understood his hesitations even if he didn’t agree with them. Phil patted Ranboo’s arm softly as Ranboo headed off and he went back inside, and Ranboo was grateful for the time alone to think. Because a lot had happened, but he did want to think through that particular scenario, since it was important. Even if the family aspect was strange. Even with Ranboo being particularly protective. And especially with his relationship to Tubbo being what it was. So the question was this: How did Ranboo want to go about introducing Wilbur to his nephew, Michael?

-

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[Until I publish this to AO3, anyone is welcome to ask to be tagged when the fic updates!] @enternalempires

[writing-the-end]

WS Chapter 58- The Storm

Previous Chapter

Masterpost

I always considered the wanderers as three different weather events. Ecto was the sandstorm, kicking up sand and changing the landscape. Avon was the storm, the darkness and rain refreshing the land. And Red is the eye of the hurricane, when you can see the sun after going through the worst part of the storm, the peace between chaos. And all three of these storms appear in this chapter- and we get to see Ecto being both a bastard and a badass!

Red belongs to @theguardiansofredland

Ecto belongs to @cooler-cactus-block

Nova was the easiest to find. Not because she was in the midst of the battle, dominating the field. No. She was cowering in the distance, at the back of the army. Sending messages like a wave through the soldiers of flame. 

So when the wanderers cut her off, she immediately flees. Red and Avon look at one another. Is that enough? She’s no longer sending information, strategising the nether army. But Ecto knew one thing from her time a captive of the nether- Nova would only reappear, more annoying than ever. 

Ecto and Jessie chase after her, Red and Avon trailing behind. Nova turns, eyes wide and terrified at the dragon and desert dweller right on her heels. She screams, and jumps into the nether. The four follow right in after her. 

Jessie flits to the air just in time to avoid being crushed. Ecto skids into the netherrack, one leg extended while the other crouched beneath her. Red bounces off Ecto, and Avon just narrowly avoids sliding into a lavafall on her way through. Jessie lets out a roar, standing precariously on the cliff edge, her young voice reverberating off the lava and towards Nova. 

Ecto was the fastest, following Jessie as they give chase. But Nova was determined to give them the slip. She leaps down a gravel hill, sliding along the pebbles and leaping across the lava pool beneath her. The wanderers halt, unable to make the jump as the gravel falls. Red clutches his totem of undying tight, a horrible feeling striking through his body. “We can’t keep up with her! We’re gonna lose Nova!” 

“She has to be going somewhere, I can fly each of us over one by one.” Avon opens her wing, bloody from the battle but still able to fly. 

Ecto shakes her head. “Nah, That’ll take too much time. You just cross with Red, I’ve got an idea.” She gives a whistle, waving at Jessie. The dragonet chirps in response, and swoops low. 

“Wait, what are you-” Avon’s blonde hair momentarily blinds her, but Ecto knows exactly what she’s doing. It’s a stupid trick, but it’s the most direct way through this. 

Ecto gets a running start, leaping across the gap with one final push of her flat, bound shoes against the clumpy red material. She’s airborne, for half a second still rising. But when she should be plummeting to the lava below, she continues to fly. 

Jessie’s wings are open wide, soaring with her teeth and front claws dug into Ecto’s hood. She may only be the size of a fox, but her wings allow for the baby dragon to soar just far enough for the two to both make it across. They tumble to the ground, scratched but alive. 

Avon flies Red over, shocked as she stumbles to her friend, her charge. “Is this what you two do when I’m out hunting!?”

“Maybe.” Ecto giggles, standing to her feet and brushing the red dirt off her. “Come on, we can talk about our parenting methods later. We have a hellspawn to catch.”

Red and Ecto take off, and Avon scoops Jessie up with one wing, looking pointedly at the baby dragon. “If your mother knew, she’d kill me.” 

Nova was just ahead of them, hazy through the fog of the nether. But her blue hair, the bright pigtails held severe against her head, were easy to pick out. Just when Avon comes within trident range, hearing Jessie hurling up another ball of acid flame, Nova disappears through a portal. 

The wanderers charge through, ignoring any sense to check what could possibly be on the other side. Branches poke and leaves brush against the wanderers. The nether portal has spat them out on the roof of a dark oak forest, tree leaves intertwining into one massive canopy above the trunks and grass. Flames rise high, footsteps across the leaves setting the forest alight. Nova’s high pitched laughter rings out, but the wanderers can hear the fear twinged through it. “You may have gotten me, but you left your army of freaks with no one to lead them!” 

Ecto growls, and takes off, pushing through the flames at such a speed the heat has no time to catch her. She draws her sword, clashing with Nova and tossing her across the canopy. “You’ve got yourself surrounded. Give up, hellspawn. I’m not letting you destroy another biome ever again.” 

“Ah, it’s you. The one that likes to play in sand.” Nova stands upright, pulling a shield out and hiding behind the barrier. “I’ll give it to you, you’re more than you let on. You're persistent as hell, never know when to quit do you? For what, some wasteland you called home?” 

Ecto lets out a war cry, and barrages Nova with her sword. Even when the iron cracks, close to breaking, she doesn’t stop. “You wouldn’t know, would you? You destroyed your own home in the name of uniformity, destroyed the nether’s forests just because they were different as well. Face it- everywhere is different, everyone is weird!” Ecto’s sword shatters, sending her onto her rear end. Nova raises her shield, about to strike Ecto with the flat, spiked board. “And guess what? Weird is good.” 

From above, a roar rips across the sky. So loud, it’s hard to believe it came from an infant dragon. The black form drops from the sky, mouth opening. Purple flames crest free of the dragonet’s lips, embers flying and dancing among wings as Jessie plummets. The fireball hurls just behind Nova, trapping her among the purple acid and flames. Ecto rolls to her feet, brandishing the jagged edge of the broken iron sword. She tosses a wayward orange scarf over her shoulder, the fabric like a pennant in the wind. Ecto tilts her head back, chocolate hair twisting free from her forehead as she looks down upon Nova.

Nova turns to her left, but Avon lands with wings wide. Fanning the purple flame, dark purple cloak snapping against the pauldron holding it to her neck. Purple fire illuminating her from beneath, casting shadows across purple eyes and pale skin. 

The blue haired hellspawn turns to her right, but Red extinguishes the hellfire with one thing worse than flame- water. Swirling around Red, making his hair float and crest like seagrass at the bottom of the ocean. Bright, hopeful eyes beam back at Nova. She’s surrounded on all sides. Unable to run. Unable to hide. 

Nova raises her hands. “Alright. You’ve got me. Go ahead- kill me.” 

The wanderers look at one another, Red’s eyes pleading at the warriors beside her. He can’t force them to spare Nova. They have every reason to kill her- even Red wants to exact revenge, for killing Mama Gummi and destroying her home. But violence will only lead to more violence. 

Ecto tosses her blade away. “No. We’re breaking the cycle. The nether needs the overworld, and the overworld needs the nether. I like a fight, but I’m not going to go around causing one. Not like Blu.” 

“You...what?” Nova’s shock is genuine, her face so much more animated than the very same face beside her. The wanderers step away, watching as the fire of the forest dies back with Nova’s anger. She falls to her knees, looking at the burned trees. “It...It does look like what the nether looked like. Long, long ago. Before we destroyed the forests. We thought we were stopping an invasion. But we only made one of our own.” Nova’s head hangs with shame, her hair flattens, pigtails shortening to small tufts between her horns. “I used to love to play in the forests. I always...I always thought the warped forest was so pretty. It was weird, but...it was wonderful.” 

Red bounces over to Ecto, giving her a sly smile. “See. I told you- a little kindness can go a long way.” Red knew Nova could be talked down. It’s the others Red worries about. 

“You three need to hurry. Endo and Blu are still fighting. I’ll try to stop the army, but Endo’s the one in charge. She calls the shots.” Nova warns. 

Red turns, back to the nether portal. “So that’s who we go for next.”

[jjkfire]

me: bro don’t do it. don’t start another fic that you won’t finish. ok but imagine e2l jungkook

(don’t click if u hate unfinished fics)

jungkook // enemies to lovers // 3k words

With the rain pouring down outside, you hum delightedly as you bite into your juicy chicken sandwich that you had lathered in honey mustard. Sure, it wasn’t particularly healthy, but you could care less about that, especially when it’s 9 pm and you had just gotten off work. Not to mention the fact that you’re completely drenched seeing as you had forgotten to look at the weather app, again. At this point, you could care less. To be quite honest, you’ve become numb to everything. You guess that’s just what being another cog in the capitalist machine does to you.

It’s been over a year since you moved to the big city for a job. At the start you were a bright-eyed college graduate, ready to take on the world. Now, you’re just a shell of a human being, and one of the only things that can bring you joy is the very chicken sandwich you’re feasting on.

You like this place at this time of the night. It’s not as busy, just the soft chatter of some of the customers or rather the collective munching of all the other people who just got off work, feeling and looking exactly like you. The standing bar by the window is where all the tired, beaten down employees find solace with earphones plugged in and glazed over eyes looking out into the streets ahead. That’s your routine and just like any other night, you’re doing the same. Slowly chewing, as your mind drifts off somewhere, the music playing in your ears barely registering.

Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You see a semblance of a figure standing in front of you on the other side of the window pane, but you’ve encountered enough oddballs in all your trips to this store that you’ve learnt to ignore anyone that stands in front of the window. Most times, it’s some crazy guy, going on some rant, expecting you to care. Your eyes only refocus when the person next to you taps you on the shoulder and directs your attention to the man waving wildly in front of you. You squint, trying to make out the person’s face through the rain, but by then the person has moved on, disappeared. You only shrug at the person who tapped your shoulder, turning your attention back to your sandwich instead.

“Y/N?”

It’s soft, but you think you hear someone calling your name over the music.

“Y/N!”

You pull out your earphones, head whipping around just to make sure you weren’t going crazy and oh god, when your eyes meet his, you sure hope this is just a fever dream.

“Christ, it’s like you’re on a different planet. I’ve never had to work so hard to get someone’s attention before,” The boy in front of you says as he wipes his rain-soaked face with a paper napkin.

“Jungkook?” You mumble, confused, staring at him with your mouth hanging half opened. What was he doing here and more importantly what was he doing here talking to you?

“Yes, sweetheart,” He smiles. “Keep looking at me like that and I might get the wrong idea,” He smirks.

God, he hasn’t changed at all.

“How is it possible that every time I see you, your ego is just 5 times the size it was before?” You question. “How do you manage to find space to keep it in that tiny brain of yours?”

“Easy,” He grins. “I store it in a bigger organ,” He directs your attention simply with his eyes, looking down towards his nether region.

You swear you almost throw up in your mouth. You simply shake your head at him, placing your earphones back in your ears before you turn towards what mattered the most. Your chicken sandwich.

“Oh come on,” Jungkook chuckles, yanking your earphones out. You absolutely hated it when people do that. “That’s no way to treat an old friend. Why the cold shoulder?”

“In what universe were we ever friends?” You ask. “Acquaintances maybe, but never friends.”

“Ah, that hurt,” He groans, clutching his chest. “You mean you don’t consider all the times I chased you around school with worms in my hands, quality time with a friend?”

“No,” You answer, with a curt smile. “And just in case you’re wondering, activities such as yanking my hair, putting tadpoles in my water and double knotting my shoelaces together under the table are also other events I don’t consider quality time with a friend.”

“Shame,” The boy pouts. “I really thought we were the best of friends.”

You roll your eyes at him, though a hint of a smile shows.

Jungkook, truly and genuinely is nothing more than an acquaintance… even if, both your parents wish otherwise. See, the two of you attended the same primary school and that’s how your mother had met his. After yet another torturous day at school with Jungkook attempting to put a live frog in your bag, you had ran up to your mother in tears. She assured you that she was going to have a stern talk with this Jungkook boy. She stepped up, ready to give the boy a piece of her mind when Jungkook’s mother stormed right up, ready to fight. It was hostile at first but soon enough the mothers were laughing together. Wait. This wasn’t what you wanted. After a lengthy chat, one that basically had both you and Jungkook ready to take a nap right on the bench the two of you had been sitting on, you heard your mother making plans to have tea with his mother one day. Hold on. You definitely didn’t want that. Yet, it happened. Jungkook never got reprimanded for trying to put a live frog in your bag and as your mother became friends with his mother, and later, best friends, Jungkook would soon earn a pass to play whatever heinous prank he wanted on you. Oh, but that meant so did you and so began the war between you and Jungkook.

Though you’ll agree that you weren’t quite as creative as Jungkook when it came to coming up with disgusting pranks, you could hurt him in different ways. See, Jungkook wasn’t the most studious kid and he was abysmal at math. You’ve seen him try to hide his report card many times, yet somehow or the rather, courtesy of you, it would end up straight in his mother’s hands. Oh, you still remember the way he would look at you. If looks could kill, you would’ve been dead and buried 50 times over. In any case, whatever amount of nagging Jungkook got wasn’t your problem. If he wanted it to stop, he should spend less time collecting tadpoles and more time studying.

Your war with Jungkook continued on until you were 12. By then, you had many battle scars. You’ve had gum stuck in your hair, had your shoes dipped in sewage water, your textbook put up onto the ceiling fan, among many other seemingly ‘harmless’ pranks that your mother would shrug off. If you had to go on living like this, there’s no telling what you would do to the boy. Luckily, as the year came to a close, and all the students got their results from the national test, you receive the best news you’ve ever heard. You had almost leaped with joy when Jungkook’s mother told you which school was bound for, it was the one just a few streets away, while you, you had gotten into a private school in the neighbouring district considering that you had passed the test with flying colours.

So began the ceasefire between you and Jungkook, or so you thought.

Granted, life was better now that you didn’t see Jungkook every day but that didn’t mean he was out of your life forever. Perhaps, you thought now that you and Jungkook were at different schools, your mothers wouldn’t be close considering they didn’t get to catchup every time they picked the both of you up from school. Oh, how wrong you were. Not only did your mothers stay friends, but soon enough, your fathers became golfing buddies too. Great. Just wonderful.

The worst part about having your fathers become golfing buddies was the fact that they would have these huge get togethers with all the other golfers and their families. They were quarterly events and though the adults had great fun with their booze and chit-chat, it was almost always awkward for the kids. All the kids would be lumped together in multiple ‘kids tables’ and everyone would just sit and stare at each other, trying to make small talk. Though you hated it, the food was almost always amazing and even if you had to be seated next to Jungkook, you didn’t mind because that meant his brother was never too far away.

You’ve had a crush on his brother, Junghoon, for as long as you can remember. Sure, he was four years older but he was everything Jungkook wasn’t. He was nice, sweet and best of all, he never tried putting tadpoles into your drink, or sticking gum in your hair. In fact, you think he’s the only one that listens to you and tells Jungkook off for misbehaving. He was an angel, your saving grace, the boy you would forever be in love with. Jungkook tells you that you’re wasting your time, that his brother has been dating the same girl since he was 11 and he was 17 now. Just because there’s a goalkeeper in front of a goal, doesn’t mean you couldn’t score, you would remind him.

So, that’s how those quarterly dinners went. You dreamily conversing with his older brother while Jungkook made his moves on all the girls in the room. That is, until Junghoon started bringing his girlfriend to the events. Now, you had to sit there and watch them act all lovey-dovey while you were stuck next to Jungkook. Wonderful. Of course, it was of no help that puberty seemed to hit Jungkook like a train. He went from looking lanky and shabby to… hot. As much as you hated the boy, you couldn’t deny that he was plain attractive. If anything, the girls at the dinners, constantly trying to talk and flirt with him was a glaring reminder of how good looking he’d become. It wasn’t like you were staring but he had a well-built chest, solid thighs and of course his face that bordered between cute and straight up sultry depending on how he styled his hair. Towards the later years, he started leaning away from his favourite bowl cut, which meant it started getting harder to pretend that you most definitely thought he was handsome and if he wasn’t the Jungkook that you knew, you’d be like any one of the other girls trying to strike up a conversation with him.

Despite it all, you still looked forward to the dinners because of the delicious food, and perhaps also because you and Jungkook would sneak towards the table at the back where the bottles of wine and hard liquor were placed, often stealing a sip or two when no one was looking. As the years went by, the two of you got bolder, both pouring yourselves a generous serving of whiskey and of course pouring in some coke after that to make it seem like you were good little kids, sipping on soda. Though from afar, it may seem like you and Jungkook were friends, you were adamant that the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances. It wasn’t very easy to convince people because he often posted up pictures of the two of you. He usually looked great in them meanwhile he usually caught you while you’re placing your spoon into your mouth, or while you’re in the midst of sneezing. It was deliberate of course and you had expected nothing less from Jeon Jungkook.

Though Jungkook and you didn’t share the same circle of friends, most of your classmates knew him. With a face like that, of course they did. Of course, the fact that he was exceptional at sports didn’t help. He’d gotten close to some of your friends when he would meet them at sports meets. All the schools in the same district would often duke it out before moving on to the next level, and the next until they reached the state level and finally, nationals. Jungkook got as far as the state level when it came to swimming. Honestly, he had the talent to go all the way, but he was always too busy trying to chat up girls instead of trying to best his own record. In fact, you think he only decided to be a swimmer because he could post pictures of himself in that itty-bitty swimming costume and get all the girls to swoon. Also, yes, you’ve been forced to attend his swim meets, usually at the request of his mother and god, it was torture trying to pretend like you weren’t staring at the boy half the time. You just had to admit that you loved the fact that he had that V-line. God, what you’d give if you could just run your finger along— no, never mind, thoughts like that weren’t meant to be wasted on boys like him.

Many times, you’ve had girls in your school come up to ask you if you could perhaps introduce him to them. You would often say no, but that you could give them the next best thing and that is his number. Can’t you at least only give my number to the hot ones? Jungkook would ask you when he saw you at the quarterly dinners. You would tell him that each time you gave out his number was only revenge for each tadpole he had put into your water bottle back in primary school. God, you’re so petty, he would groan. He promised he’d get his revenge on you too.

As high school rolled on to college, Jungkook had learnt that mentioning your name to his mother gave him the all good sign to go hang out until whatever time he wanted. If my mum calls, just tell her I’m with you, he would say. Truth is, the two of you really would be together, except on the opposite end of the same club. So, you’d oblige when he would ask you to pose for a picture together. In fact, you needed to send one to your mother too because you had told her the same lie, that you’d be hanging out with Jungkook for the night. The two of you usually staged the photo, walking to a nearby restaurant, to sit down and snap a picture before heading to the club.

Back at the club, the two of you were truly acquaintances at best. A rare smile, an even rarer few shared sentences and that was it. Of course, barring the times Jungkook would send his friends your way for a neat little prank. You had caught on pretty quick though. Anytime, a boy would approach you, your go to sentence would be, if Jungkook sent you then sure, I’d give you my number but only if we split whatever it is he’s giving you. So that’s how you ended up with a few extra ten dollar bills by the end of the month. Even so, it started getting annoying, so of course, you had gone up to tell Jungkook that you’ve had enough. At that he only scoffed before telling you that each time he sent a boy your way was only revenge for all the times you had given out his number. He promised that unlike you he only sent the good-looking boys your way… because it looked like you could use a good lay. Oh, you wanted to strangle him right there and then.

After that, you got smart. You told any of the boys that came your way that you were willing to pay double of whatever Jungkook was paying if they would kick him in the balls for you. Turns out boys aren’t quite loyal and after being assaulted a few too many times, Jungkook learns to stop sending boys your way. You thought that would be the end of it, that you would be able to enjoy your nights in peace but You should’ve known better. Jungkook was hard to miss at the club. He was loud, obnoxious, and god, did he look good in a button down. If anyone looked closely, they would’ve mistaken you for any other girl, almost drooling as you watched him sip from his whiskey glass, seated on the couch with his legs spread out. He would wink in your direction, as if inviting you take a seat. Fuck, what you’d give to do just that. To grind down on him and put your hands on his broad chests that you— no, wait, thoughts like these really shouldn’t be wasted on boys like Jungkook. Of course, your mind would never really listen, so you would find one of his friends instead, giving Jungkook a full view of what could have been if he wasn’t such a dickhead.

Ignoring Jungkook was a tough task, really, and honestly if he tried anything more than harmless flirting with you, you think you would end up under him in less than a second. Which of course, is bad news. You truly had no self-control when it came to handsome men, but to be fair… look at him. Would any sane person say no? However, fortunately for you, you would get your one and only true, clean break from Jungkook. University. The two of you had gone to universities on opposite coasts and so, the two of you hadn’t seen each other in three good years. You had spent your breaks volunteering and travelling and it seemed so did Jungkook. Whenever the two of you went back home, one of you would have already left. Of course, you still knew what he was up to. It seemed like he was getting even more attention in university. It shouldn’t surprise you. Being on a university campus meant everyone was your age and equally as horny, so of course he was having fun. To be fair, so were you. In any case, you think whatever lingering attraction or rather lust you felt for the boy, had long died away. Yes, that is what you thought… until of course you find Jungkook standing in front of you after four long years of not seeing him and against all laws of nature, it seems like puberty had hit him a second time. That or your dry spell was just really starting to get to you. You reasoned that you would be okay, that this would be the one and only time you and him would run into each other in a city so big, but no, you would run into him time and time again. Then he would convince you to do something so stupid, that you believe the only explanation to you saying yes was that you were possessed. That’s the only way to think about it… because why else would one say yes to sharing a studio apartment with the devil incarnate, Jeon Jungkook himself?

click for some more secret sauce (aka my collection of unfinished fics bc i have no self control)

[petty-crush]

An open letter/retort to the “honest trailer” for “Alien Covenant”

Of course people can disagree and of course this is a sarcastic video. But since this contains a lot of knee jerk, being negative for views comments, (and because people may get fooled by just watching this video)I think this is a good place to dissect frogs.

My bias; I think “Covenant” is a truly great film. Spectacular in ideas, behaviors, visuals, and pure fun. I loved it. I am clearly willing to die on a hill for it

The main gap is that it’s really a different series, under the mask of the “Alien” series. It actually veers closer to the 1932 film “Island of lost Souls”. Ship of survivors representing normal veer into uncharted territory; a mad scientist bending the rules of biology encounters and clashes with them; the monsters he creates go to war with the ship. And in this film evil wins.

It also contains genuinely great performance(s) from Fassbender, grand sketches of gods wrecking the cosmos, humanity abandoning its children to go after unanswerable questions, and more that harken back to Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein” sandbox of sci fi.

To me, this film is all about David. The humans are cannon fodder for them. Which justifies their characterization. Also, he’s clearly a stand in for Ridley Scott and the work + wonder of being an artist, film director in particular.

I love this. I can see others liking it less, but is beautifully realized, staged, and executed.

So what are people looking for? Well…

[quotes around their words, mine by themselves]

“From Ridley Scott, one of the best directors… And one of the worst”

-first off, I think an artist is judged by their best work, not overall average

Scott can be quite varied. I personally favor going to cosmos than staying in your lane. Sometimes that make mistakes, but interesting ones.

Make no mistake though: “The Counselor” is a first rate film, acidic in the extreme, but so totally gonzo that it makes you breathe a different air. It’s the kissing cousin to “Covenant”, and both show a director willing to try new ideas and tones, and pulls it off spectacularly. Both have no interest in making the viewer feel good or flatter them, which definitely pushes some people away

“There are now more bad alien films than good ones”

-first off, where is “Prometheus”? Isn’t it an alien film? If not, and “covenant” is clearly a sequel to it, then maybe this film should be judged apart from the Ripley saga.

-I have wondered at times if calling it “Prometheus: Covenant” would have cut down on the confusion

-“Alien 3” is a spectacular film. It fully commits to the idea of Ripley having courage and purpose to her life as she knows she will die. It is completely different to “Aliens”(which may have been its problem concerning reception,as we will see) and “Alien”, it forms a perfect trilogy. Fincher may hate how fucked he got by the system, but it is a beautiful and wonderful film

“Alien resurrection” less so. But it is an odd, French splatter cartoon; certainly worth watching, not at all bad.

The “vs predator” films are largely minor, and I have no qualms with considering them less successful films.

-What makes the alien series great is that with each film the xenomorph changes to be what the film needs it to be. It’s flexibility storytelling wise is impressive. The problem comes when a audience only wants one type of story done

“When Ridley Scott wanted to talk about the meaning of life, he wanked for two hours”

-“Prometheus” has nothing to do with life, and everything to do with death. The characters in the film want to know about life (particularly Shaw since she can’t give birth) but they are punished at every turn, showing the universe to be uncaring.

Disagree with that statement or not, that is the rule that “Prometheus” and “Covenant” is abiding by.

Hell the first shot of “Prometheus” is an engineer killing himself. “Covenant” starts with life and realizing how the creator will die. There is consistency in this film universe.

And it also totally vibes with “Alien”.

“Save the philosophical stuff for ‘Blade Runner’, I want a short haired girl, in a tank top, fighting a xenomorph, who kills it by sucking it into the vacuum of space”

-and now we come to the real discussion/thorn in the side; this film isn’t a damn thing like “Aliens”

One thing that makes the alien series so fascinating is how it allowed two totally different filmmakers to make their masterpiece.

Also, it’s the rare series where the sequel brought in a bigger and wider audience.

I bet money that most people really only like “Aliens”. And that’s no shame, it’s a brilliant film. It’s strengths are the set pieces, the use of xenomorph as locusts, and characters that are simple but snappy and endearing.

In comparison to “Alien” which is cold, weird and slow moving (and brilliant) “Aliens” charm is more warm and dynamic. It doesn’t ask you to wait, it asks you to hold on. It gets kids in the door with Newt, it sets up a deep chord with Ripley giving her mother like affection , and it also makes Ripley more feminine and kick ass (she was wonderfully butch and joyfully selfish in “Alien”)

Cameron said it best in his critique of “Covenant”; “ I don’t like films where you invest in a character and they get destroyed at the end.”

Some people share that opinion. Ridley Scott does not. (Nether do I)His films generally have had the protagonist go through hell and often destroyed them. I admire that in him.

But that point of view explains why “Aliens” is so successful; it makes us love the characters and be sad when their friends die. Cameron is a genius, and is warm with his characters. Scott is also a genius, and picks their wings off like a cruel child.

Every alien film post “Aliens” has had to bear that cross, of creating such lovable stock characters. “Alien 3” didn’t give a shit, and made a impressive gathering of detached male prisoners. “Resurrection” came close with goofy space pirates, but were weird as shit.

In my opinion, if “Alien” came out after “Aliens” it would have not been as warmly received, because, got damn, is it cold and weird and hurts its people. It’s suppose to. The reaction to “Prometheus” and “Covenant” shows that all too clear.

Finally, Scott clearly does not give a shit about any alien film after his. I don’t think the Prometheus saga will show the queen alien because it came after Scott and he considers it invalid.

With this in mind, I can see how people are upset. Cold, hateful, sadistic are what “Covenant” are. And I love it for that.

I love mean films with a purpose and artistic flourish. And the Prometheus saga does it so well.

If you came to “Covenant” to root for its human characters, you are fucked (and kinda an idiot). Scott is making big budget sci fi epics about the mass murder of nature and survival of artists.

You can hate that, but call a spade a spade.

“In a franchise full of unforgettable characters”

(Shows only “Aliens” characters)

What about Dallas? Ash? Clemens? Golic? Call? Elgyn? Gediman?

There exists good characters other than the second film, guys

Once again, this love for “Aliens” blinds people to everything else

“Forget the humans”

Duhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

-but also, that slipping on blood part was (intentionally) hilarious

“Freshman philosophy class…two versions of same pretentious professor..flute”

-why do I get the feelings that the people who say stuff like this never study philosophy and just consider anything even slightest bit about talking about feelings and ideas just stoner shit, because they are the only people that talk about those subjects they let in their social circle?

I dunno, the idea about humanity killing its children for vague reasons, someone trying to better himself against cruelty and going mad himself, and finally having the courage to create something even when everyone else tells him to stand down sounds pretty universally relatable and human to me.

And even if it was pretentious, that is what art is, to subtract the distractions, and focus on what you want the world to be

-to me, David is sad Walter cannot create, like Scott is upset younger directors don’t get to make original universes and material. But David is also a fucking maniac who will stop at nothing, to whom other lives means nothing. That kind of grand vainness is perfectly at home in the world and its what art leisure to create out of whole cloth

But all of this gets in the way of watching strong men blow things away with guns, doesn’t it? (“aliens” did this to show how ineffective the marines were, not to worship them)

-the flute adds to the fantasy element, of the pied piper trying to lure others away, to their doom

Plus, it’s just fucking funny

“Snickers at 'I’ll take care of the fingering’”

See? This film is just so much fun

“I was not expecting this much flute playing”

I love it when films surprise me. I adore it when filmmakers follow their strange urges and give us scenes I never saw coming.

I love the scene of David tempting Walter with the flute.

I marveled at the scene where David drops his black plague on the engineers(who look totally different).

I looked around as David played the fucking theme to “Prometheus” on his flute. I starred at the other audience members, as if to ask “is this the real life?”

I laughed uproariously as just when you think it’s safe the xenomorph tracks the two pilots shower sexing, like it’s 1982 slasher time.

As soon as the humans delver us to David, I could see who this film was about. And really, the humans are just for showing his gentle and different Walter is.

Ridley Scott delivered a new horror classic, with a eye towards the 70’s and 30’s, but both feet in the present, with the score and design to make it work.

The first victim convulsing and back blood shooting. David acting as satan. Terror of trapped in the sick bay. The aforementioned shower scene. The cross bearing xenomorph rejects. The puppet master pulling the strings of the first post face hugger.

This is a brilliantly conceived, written, directed, and persevered treat for horror fans. I loved every second of it.

“Thrill of seeing the xenomorph move. In full daylight. Which just looks…wrong”

This is the best point of the video, though I disagree with the conclusion.

It is weird and against the vibe of the Ripley saga for the xenomorph to be a servant. But clearly these creatures are the hounds to mr burns. Satan. Evil mad dr Moreau.

It definitely gave the the film a totally new vibe. As did all the green life. But isn’t that what films are about, showing new images?

It just looks so damn different. I like different. Different and great-even better.

“Cgi Ripley?”

That would be pretty weird. But since I more or less wash my hands of any continuity, why not?

It’s probably just a spur of the moment statement. But also incredibly funny

“It asks [x] questions but leaves you wondering [y]”

Mac, the real question is, do you like to create? That’s all this film is about. The joy of creation. Of weaving something new out of something old.

Like, Ridley is literally exploiting his own creation. It’s surreal and the best.

“Compares terminator series to Alien series”

This is more apt, but in a different way.

For both series, The first film is a stand alone classic. A low key masterpiece. The second is an expansive blockbuster which really really skewed expectations for future films.

The comparison ends there though. Sigourney Weaver has way way more character to work with. Poor Schwarzenegger had so so directors to work with, while the Alien series put down the work of real filmmakers making challenging art.

I enjoy the terminator series, but it’s clear that it’s so much the work of one man (James Cameron) so no one else can make it work. But the fluidity of the xenomorph makes every single film worth watching and honestly essential.

The second film in both series cast a long shadow. But while the following films in the terminator series really don’t hold up if stand alone, the following xenomorph films all showcase a different side to hubris and death

Which is honestly the best way to approach this film. Something new, vibrant, and bizarrely personal

Respecting and knowing horror and monsters films for what they do helps too

“Me at the idea of six more alien films”

I love it. I usually get tuned out after a few films, but this Prometheus saga just works. The possibilities are endless.

Ridley Scott deserves the highest kudos for turning this series into greatness

In a certain way, “Alien” is “Halloween”, perfect in its execution and of its singularity.

Prometheus saga is Friday the 13th series. Messier, off to an odd start, but a snowball of its own delights that fosters an utterly nihilistic universe. Like Jason, David is too good for just one film, and we need those eight films of him. It may indeed prove to be the essentials space monster-mad scientist series, just like Jason is the essential slasher killer.

Is this pizza to a steak? Yes, but each have their own pure delights, and like a certain pie, it just gets better and beautifully blurrier with each dizzying bite

Long live Prometheus saga; may it rule in hell for an eternity. Just as “Covenant” does in my heart.