#and so much of the landscape is so familiar so there's the extra sense of connection

[maopll]

Merry (early) Christmas! May I request Kaeya, Childe, Ayato, Neuvillette, and Wriothesley finding their s/o, who gets cold easily, wearing their jacket/coat?

Warm me up

# genshin impact !

⌗:, a/n: sorry for being away for a MONTH i was so stressed out from school... T-T and I AGAIN did add a lil bit spice for wrio. I can't stop myself.

⌗:, pairings: kaeya, childe, ayato, neuvillette & wriothesley w/ gn!reader

⌗:, extra: happy late Christmas I couldn't finish it because I was worn out </3

˗ˏˋ ꒰ KAEYA ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Its a little secret that none knows about. The coat he wears and what you wear on cold wintry days are his as well. It's quite noticeable but according to him, "Nobody's gonna know!". He goes crazy whenever he sees you wear his big coat. It makes you look so cozy...and soft...like a warm fireplace in winter morning which always have a welcoming feel to them.

The trip to Dragonspine was, as usual, extremely cold. The fire that Kaeya made from the dry firewood wasn't enough to keep you warm. "You want me to make the fire more big? I can find some more dry wood for you" He asked voice laced with concern. You knew that no matter how big the fire or enormous layers of cloth, you won't be able to keep yourself warm...unless Kaeya offers you his comfortably warm chest...and hands too.

As if able to understand your gaze since your shivering form really gave it away, he walked up and sat behind you. He wrapped his arm around your body gently and said, "Lay on me. It'll help you keep warm" you relaxed your body and brought your knees closer to yourself and making yourself feel at home. You heaved a sigh of relief as if you've finally been able to stop the piercing cold wind from affecting you any further. "Thank you Kaeya" he smiled at you, "As long as you're comfortable". He sealed the conversation with a kiss upon your forehead.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ CHILDE ꒱ ˎˊ˗

He has been born and brought up in Snezhnaya. A nation with only snowy landscape all around. Naturally he was quite well adjusted himself to the cold atmosphere of any place that you visit. While he should be having big long coats in such a dry and chilly climate, he refuses to wear it because, "You can't get this cold anywhere else! it's a test of courage!".

You had a cup of hot chocolate on your hand as you flipped through the pages of the book. The big bear blanket and the brightly lit fireplace did make you warm but not enough. You shivered "Brr...its really cold if only he was at home..." during the coldest of days you ache for his comforting presence and his big warm arms enveloping your body as you two cuddle in the plush couch often times drifting off to sleep unknowingly. You missed him so much that you quickly sprinted towards his closet and grabbed the biggest jacket of his. You scurried inside the multiple blankets and drew his big fluffy jacket around you. His familiar scent filled your senses. He smelled like the ocean, no matter how faint the scent was, it was refreshing.

....the door of the room opened, and the wooden floor dreaked beneath his boot-like-shoes. "Babe?" he quietly asked, hoping to receive an answer, but as soon as he was about to go find you, he saw you laying comfortably on your stomach with his big jacket enveloping you as you softly snored. He felt himself falling for you adorable antics all over again. He slowly picked you up in his arms and carried you to bed. He murmered, "Sweet dreams, sweetheart..." with a kiss.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ AYATO ꒱ ˎˊ˗

The ocean breeze can get quite chilly right? With the layers of clothes you had on you, the coat was barely enough to even keep the piercing cold win from making you whole body numb. Sure, you acted impulsively and decided to sit down near the railing. You started off into the vast ocean. Ayato wasn't here most of the time and your time of respite to soothe your heart from missing him. "He's taking care of matters....he will come back soon..." you mumbled and hugged your knees close.

You felt an already warm blanket being draped around your figure from the back. Looking at the delicate fabric and the seam's design you turned your head back a little too quickly. There he was...the one who you waited so long for...He chuckled softly seeing your bewildered face. "You'll catch a cold if you sit here in the cold like this with barely enough layers dearest" He kept his hand on your shoulder blades gently. "Ayato...I thought you'll come..." "Let's say I did a few little things here and there which allowed me to spend some more time."

You smiled at him sweetly and got down from thr railing. You intertwined your hands with his and with a peck on his cheek, " I missed you so much..."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Not done yeeetttt?...." you slumped on the couch as you waited even longer for him.

With a chuckle, he said, "It's almost done... just a little bit longer, dear." Then soon he went to work and correct the piles of paperwork. He has been avoiding them for quite a while now, and it had to be done one day. He may be the cold and formal Iudex of Fontaine, but even he loses the grip on his stoic personality whenever he's with you.

The evenings are quite cold in Fontaine, and he saw how you tried to warm up your arms. You didn't want to disturb him since his pending work's deadline was tomorrow in the afternoon.

While you were busy staring into space, he wrapped his coat around you. "Hm? Suddenly?"

"I saw how you were trying to warm yourself up and I apologise. I can't be the one to warm you up but I hope my coat suffices?" He said chuckling, a hint of blush on his fair cheeks. You grinned from ear to ear, "It's quite enough Neuvi, thanks for caring about me so much" you cupped his cheeks gently with your hands.

"I love you" you said as you touched his forehead with yours. A sign of the utmost affection for one who is the Hydro Dragon Sovereign.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"Sigh... I know it's cold, but that's no reason for you to stay under the covers... it's 9 pm, now how long do you plan to do it?"

Concern lacing his voice as he saw how you tried your best to warm up your feet with whatever you could find. "It's too cold and I can't keep bothering you for so long, you've got work to do" you tried to sound as if you were alright but in reality, fighting the cold was really taking out all your strength from you.

"Wait—" you felt the covers being lifted from your head. He swiftly carried you on his arms and ploped you on the plush couch. Upon inspecting your surroundings, you saw how he had prepared everything from A to Z... there was a warm tea, leg warmers and special fur on the couch, which was especially sold during winter and the fireplace. "Wriothesley? You prepared all this for me?" You spoke bewildered.

"Yes. All the things that will keep my beloved warm and happy while I'm unfortunately working, " he spoke gently, holding your hands. "Wow...looks like I won the lottery when I received a boyfriend," you said while ruffling his soft hair.

"It's good thank you... but" you smirked maybe something other than this can keep me more warm?" "What are you imply?— Oh...I see" he chuckled on realising your intention.

He slithered his hands on your thighs and seductively said, "I don't mind that warm treat on such a cold day"

[prettyforwoso]

Lay Back Baby

Lucy Bonze x Ona Batlle smut

Summary: Ona is staying home from training with the cold, yearning for Lucy's touch, she pushes the the whole day without, the second Lucy gets home, she knows what she needs.

a/n: Based on the large amounts of requests for this one !! hope you enjoy :) requests open

Ona awoke with a heavy sense of lethargy, her body feeling like a battleground between fatigue and discomfort. The room around her was dimly lit, the soft glow of daylight filtering through the curtains casting a muted atmosphere. As she blinked away the remnants of sleep, the realization of her sickness settled in, a weight on her chest that matched the heaviness in her head.

The air in the room felt stale, and Ona's groggy mind struggled to focus. Her and Lucys room, once a haven of comfort, now seemed foreign, as if the familiar surroundings had transformed into an unfamiliar landscape in the course of her nap. She gingerly sat up, her limbs protesting with every movement, and the blankets clung to her like an extra layer of fatigue.

Ona's nose was stuffy, her throat scratchy, and a persistent ache echoed through her body. She reached for the tissue box on her bedside table, a comforting ally in the battle against her symptoms. Each tissue she pulled out seemed to absorb a small part of her misery as she blew her nose, the soft sound a pitiful reminder of her unwell state.

Her gaze drifted to the window, where the outside world continued its oblivious hustle. The play of sunlight on the curtains formed patterns that danced in a rhythm detached from her own discomfort. Ona sighed, the sound a mixture of resignation and frustration, as she contemplated the tasks and responsibilities that awaited her beyond the confines of the couch.

She remembered how Lucy always took care of her when she was unwell – making tea, giving forehead touches, and saying comforting things. Ona scrolled through pictures of them together, smiling and happy. She sent Lucy a text, telling her how much she needed her right now.

Ona: missing you baby…

sent

Wrapped up in her blankets, she waited for Lucy's reply, hoping for some comfort. When Lucy's message came, it was like a virtual hug. Lucy promised to be home soon, and Ona felt a bit better just thinking about it. With the idea of Lucy's return from training in mind, Ona relaxed, knowing that love had the power to make her feel better even when she was at her sickest.

She peeled her body off the couch and headed for their bedroom, hoping to find a change of clothing, clinging to the idea that it might make a feel better to freshen up. She pulled out some sweat shorts and one of Lucys jerseys, desperate for anything from her, even just her smell.

Her legs led her to the kitchen, where she found herself making some toast, too exhausted for any sort of creativity if it included any sort of hard work.

She’s been sitting around all day, occasionally moving location to follow the days sunlight, but no amount of light would satisfy her intense craving for the touch of Lucy. Her mind wandered, the idea of Lucy laying her down and having her cum over and over, all she needed was for Lucy to be inside of her, and any kind of way, Ona was not feeling picky.

Her sudden burst of energy came when she heard Lucys keys in the front door. Her body was lifted from the bed out of excitement, her feet skidding on the floor as she ran to the door, jumping into the arms of her girl.

Lucy didn’t even have time put her stuff down, having to drop it to support Onas tiny frame, wrapped around her waist.

“Hey baby” Lucy says, gently placing her down.

“Lucy, I have missed you so much today” Ona says looking up at her, with the strong grip on the centre of Lucys shirt, scared by the idea of letting go.

Lucy leans down and presses a kiss on Onas soft lips, not worrying about getting sick, if anything, it would give them time off together.

Ona raised herself onto the tips of her toes, desperate to get the most of out Lucys mouth. She wraps an arm around her neck, pulling her closer.

“Oh, you really have missed me haven’t you little thing” Lucy says, breaking the contention.

Ona simply bites her lip in response.

“No baby, you are sick and need rest” Lucy tells Ona with the stern tone. Ona is in her lap, getting more and more needy by the second.

The pair have been on the couch simply making out for a while now, Ona in Lucys lap, as per usual, desperately grinding small on the tiny seem of Lucys pants that are rubbing on her needy clit.

“Lucy please” Ona begins the whining. “You can’t leave me alone all day, them come home and refuse to fuck me” she finishes with a mumble.

“I can when you are sick darling girl” Lucy delicately fights back.

“agh Lucy please, I’m all wet, and you’re the person I want to share that with” Ona begging is something that could almost get Lucy on her knees for the small girl.

Lucys body has a physical reaction to Onas words. A long deep breathe escapes her mouth and her eyes soften. “Your all, wet baby?” she says, trying not to give in to her racing mind when she quotes Onas words. “I don’t want to hurt you sweet girl”

Ona is quick to reply “You’re not going to hurt me Lucy” she says franticly trying to get the words off her tongue. “Just please open my legs and fuck me” She shoots Lazers into Lucys eyes “Please Lucy”

“Stay here for a second” Lucy says, lifting Onas frame off her and on to the couch, leaving the room and leaving Ona alone. She isn’t sure is her begging had worked out in her favour or not, but alas, she did as she was told and stayed on the couch.

Lucy is soon to return to her good girl. A strap in one hand, and a small dildo in the other. Ona has never been the type to be able to take anything big, and Lucy has never wanted to push her too hard.

Ona makes space for her on the couch and Lucy lays her body down, motioning for Ona to straddle her waist once more. Ona places her body weight down and leans into the lips of Lucy. Lucys hand wraps around the back of her neck not allowing her to leave the kiss until she was finished.

Lucy pulls Ona by the back of the neck away from the kiss “Baby my face” she begins “Come onto it okay”.

Ona doesn’t have to answer, she quickly pulls herself Lucy and starts to undress. “keep the shirt on pretty girl” Lucy instructs, referring to the ‘Bronze’ jersey that Ona wore loose on her shoulders.

Ona doesn’t need to be asked twice. She knows the way Lucy just gets weak in the knees at the sight of Ona in her jerseys. Something the possession it holds. Her name, on Onas back

Lucy manhandles Onas body to the way she wants her, before pulling her onto her face. Ona breath hitches at the sudden friction of Lucys nose on her clit. Onas bare bottom half finds itself begining to grind back and forth on the face of her girlfriend. With Lucys slick tongue exploring its way around Onas’s hole, Lucy finds that its just not quite enough for her. Lucys arms wrap around Onas spread thighs, digging her nails into her ass and pulling her down, forcing her to put all her body weight onto her tongue.

It usually takes a lot of reassurance to get Ona to fully place herself onto Lucys mouth, always being hesitant that she will hurt her somehow, but Lucy is always quick to deny that idea. Sometimes even having to go as far as holding her down onto her face with all her strength. Lucy fucking loves it. Onas’s thighs around her head, her slick dripping down her chin.

Onas getting good use out of Lucys noes, feeling the texture of her skin on her most intimate parts. Lucys tongue is venturing in and out, occasional pressing flat on her hole, catching all her leaking goodness, swallowing it with pure bliss.

The mix of Lucys mouth and her strong eye contract from beneath her, has Ona beginning to spiral. She knows she doesn’t need to communicate this with Lucy. Having been clearly aware due to the speed in which her actions were getting too. Lucys grip on Ona was pulling her even further with each second that pasted. Lucy could barely breath underneath her, something that hardly worried her, knowing how fast she could get to Onas high.

“Agh, yes Lucy” Onas frantic pleading has Lucy smiling against her. “Yes Lucy” her pitch gets higher at the end of each statement. Her eyes roll to the back of her head, telling out a smooth hum of a moan as she lets herself go into Lucys mouth, shaking her legs and squeezing them around her head.

Ona steals a breath from the air, moving herself off Lucys face and sitting on her clothed stomach. Lucy being fully clothed with Ona bare wasn’t a completely uncommon practice in the household.

“Ona darling help me put this on”. Lucy breaks the silence, referring the strap in her hands, passing it to Ona. She moves down Lucys body and kneels between her legs. She picks it from Lucys hands, fiddling with the harness and getting it around Lucys hips, covered by her boxers.

“You think you can take this one baby girl?” Lucy double checks, the strap is small, but so is Ona, and the last thing Lucy wanted was to push her when she was sick.

“Yes, ill be good” Ona struggles to get full words out, due to the pure bliss she feels, just looking at the toy in front of her.

Lucy takes the answer, tightening the harness to her waist before pushing Ona further down. “I was you back to face me while you ride my cock” Lucy says, in a gently demanding tone.

Onas bottom lip is swollen from all the bitting, Lucys voice and demanding tone, not helping the situation. Ona grabs a hold of Lucys thighs for balance, turning herself around and putting her legs over Lucys waist. Onas’s ass sits on Lucys stomach, Lucys hands find it almost immediately. She lifts herself up with the help of Lucys grip and hovers over the strap, nervous about letting herself fall.

Ona suddenly feels tired, worried she might do this the wrong way. She stays hovering for more than usual and Lucy begins to wonder the expression on her girlfriend’s face.

“Can you take it sweat girl?” Lucy asks again, in an almost teasing tone this time.

Ona doesn’t reply, beginning to squirm in her position.

“Darling, do you need help?” Lucy asks, caressing the skin of Onas soft ass.

“yeah”

“Lay back for me” Lucy pulls her back. “Come on, nice and comfy”.

Ona relaxes into the precents of Lucy, legs spread wide and open. Lucys hand sneaks under her and onto the toy, lining it up with Onas’s cunt.

“Look at me” Lucy says, turning Onas’s face to look her in the eye as she thrusts herself in, so slowly, so soft.

Ona’s gentle moan has her snuggling into Lucys grip. Lucys hands now holding Ona’s legs open as she slowly thrusts in and out, causing Ona to whine in her hold.

“Shh baby girl. I know you can take it” Lucy places kisses all over Onas red face. Her pace starting to speed up, much to the overwhelming pleasure of Ona.

“yes, yes lucy” Onas words come out more breathy and pathetic than intended.

Lucy legs go of one thigh to hold Onas’s face, looking down into her eyes, Ona looks like she’s been to a whole new level of pleasure. Eyes watering and checks red.

“Are you going to cum for me like this?” Lucy asks, already knowing the answer.

Ona can’t get words out, simply humming in reply as she begins to shake in Lucys grip. Lucy responses by going deeper, getting a yelp from Ona, who now finds refuge in the neck of her girlfriend.

“Let go baby” It’s all Ona need to hear before she is riding an absolute high, legs shaking and hips rocking, she floats to the point of pure stimulation, no longer feeling anything around her but the warm embrace of Lucy, who, without Onas’s knowledge had completely pulled out of her.

“Good girl, shhh baby, you’re okay” Lucy says, helping Ona gain control of her breathing and come back to the room, her mind elsewhere.

“sh sh sh, deep breaths” Ona’s breathing returns and she is turned over, chest to chest with Lucy who takes her hair in her hand, stocking her scalp with nothing but pure love.

“My good baby”

[formulas-bitch]

Come back home 2 -

13K words

extra long one for you guys. let me know what you think, feedback or any suggestions are welcome

its been a few months since Emily left for her tour to Iraq, and the middle of the season of the formula 1 races for Charles.

As he was sitting in front of his computer, checking his emails, he found a familiar handwriting on the envelope. Excited, he opened the letter and began to read.

Emily's letter was full of news about her new life in Iraq. She described the desert landscape, the dusty roads, and the people she met. She told him about the challenges of her new job as first lieutenant, the long hours, and the intense training. But she also talked about the camaraderie she felt with her fellow soldiers, the sense of purpose and meaning she found in her work, and the incredible experiences she was having.

Charles was fascinated by her stories and couldn't help but feel a mix of pride and envy. He wished he could be there with her, sharing in her adventures, but he knew that he had his own path to follow. He was determined to make his sister and his family proud, even if it meant being far away from them.

As he read on, Emily mentioned that she had met some other soldiers who were also interested in motorsports. She wrote about how they would sometimes talk about the races together, swapping stories and sharing their enthusiasm. Even in the midst of a war zone, the love for speed and competition never died.

Charles was intrigued by this news. He wondered if perhaps he could somehow use his fame and connections in the racing world to support Emily and her fellow soldiers. He thought about sending care packages with racing gear or even arranging for a live feed of a race to be shown in their camp. But he also knew that he needed to tread carefully, as the last thing he wanted was to bring attention to her or her unit in a way that could potentially endanger them.

As he continued reading, Emily mentioned that she had heard about his recent successes on the track. She expressed admiration for his skill and dedication, and even joked about how she wished she could join him in the pits someday. This made Charles smile, knowing that even though they were separated by thousands of miles and a world of difference, they could still find common ground in their shared passion for motorsports.

Inspired by his sister's letter, Charles decided to take action. He reached out to his contacts in the racing community and arranged for a care package to be sent to Emily and her unit. The package was filled with official merchandise, autographed photos, and even a few pieces of racing gear. He included a personal note, expressing his love and support for her, and hoping that the package would bring a little bit of home to her while she was so far away.

A few weeks later, Charles received another letter from Emily. In it, she thanked him for the care package and told him how much it meant to her and her fellow soldiers. She described the joy they had shared when they opened it, imagining what it must have been like to be in the pits during a race or to meet their favorite drivers. She also mentioned that she had been thinking about his idea of finding a way to bring the races to them, and she was excited by the possibilities.

Charles was overjoyed to hear that his package had brought them so much happiness. He immediately began working on plans to make Emily's wish come true. He reached out to his contacts in the racing community again, explaining his sister's situation and the unique challenges they faced. To his surprise, several drivers and sponsors were eager to help, offering to donate their time and resources to make a live feed of a race possible.

After weeks of planning and coordination, they finally managed to set up a makeshift outdoor movie screen in Emily's camp. The soldiers gathered around, their faces lit up with excitement and anticipation. As the big day approached, Emily wrote to Charles, expressing her gratitude for his efforts and promising that they would make the most of the experience.

The day of the race finally arrived, and thanks to the generosity of the racing community, the soldiers were able to tune in to a live feed of the event. The sound of engines roaring filled the air as they watched their favorite drivers battle it out on the track. Despite the distance, Emily felt connected to the action, as if she were right there in the pit crew.

As the race progressed, the tension in the air was palpable. The soldiers cheered on their favorites, debated strategy, and shared stories of their own experiences in the racing world. Even the most seasoned soldiers seemed to be swept up in the excitement, forgetting, if only for a moment, the dangers that surrounded them.

Emily, unable to contain her enthusiasm, found herself constantly texting and calling her brother, sharing her thoughts and reactions to the race in real-time. Charles, equally enthused, responded with encouragement and shared anecdotes from his own racing career.

As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, the soldiers erupted in cheers. Even though they had been separated by thousands of miles, they had found a way to come together, if only for a brief moment, and share in the excitement of the sport they loved. Emily knew that the next day, they would be back to their duties, facing the dangers of their mission. But for now, they could forget about the world outside and simply enjoy the race.

She looked around at her fellow soldiers, their faces lit up with happiness, and felt a sense of pride and connection to them that she had never experienced before. She thought about her brother, Charles, and how his idea had brought them all together. Even though he was far away, she could feel his presence, his love and support for her and her fellow soldiers.

As they began to disperse, returning to their tents and duties, Emily couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness. She knew that tomorrow they would be back to the grind of their mission, facing the dangers that came with it. But for now, she would cherish this brief moment of happiness, this reminder of the life they had left behind.

She made her way over to the makeshift movie screen, where the sound system was still blaring with commentary about the race. A few soldiers lingered, discussing their favorite drivers and strategies, their voices filled with excitement and enthusiasm. Emily leaned against the screen, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to memorize the feeling of this night.

It had been a long time since she had felt this alive, this connected to something beyond the confines of their camp. The sound of the engines, the thrill of the competition, it all reminded her of home, of the life she had left behind. And for just a moment, she could almost imagine herself back there, sitting in the stands, the warm sun on her face, her heart racing as the cars sped past.

A shadow fell across her, breaking her out of her reverie. She looked up to see one of the younger soldiers, his face flushed with excitement. "Hey, Emily, did you see that pass? That was insane!" He gestured animatedly, his words tumbling out in a rapid-fire mixture of awe and disbelief.

Emily nodded, her heart still racing from the race. "Yeah, that was something else. I can't believe he made that move." She paused, thinking about the drivers and their strategies, the way they battled for position around the track. "It's like they're a part of something bigger than themselves out there. They're pushing the limits of what's possible."

The young soldier, named Tom, smiled. "Yeah, you can feel it in the air, you know? It's like we're all a part of it too, just by being here, watching. Even though we're so far away, it's like we're still a part of the racing world."

Emily nodded in agreement, her gaze drifting back to the makeshift screen. "It's true. And I think that's what my brother was trying to do, you know? Create a connection, even if it was just for a little while."

The young soldier, Tom, looked thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess so. It's pretty cool that he thought of that. And even better that everyone else here seems to appreciate it." He gestured around at the camp, now beginning to quiet down as the soldiers returned to their duties.

Emily nodded, her gaze lingering on the makeshift screen. "It's just a shame we can't have more of this," she said wistfully. "I mean, it's nice that we can take a break and watch the races and all, but it's not the same as being there, you know? Being part of the action."

Tom shrugged. "I guess that's what we signed up for, right? Sacrifices and all that?" He paused, then added with a grin, "But hey, at least we get to watch the races!"

Emily laughed, feeling a little guilty for voicing her complaints. "Yeah, you're right. It's not all bad." She glanced back at the screen, the engines' roar still ringing in her ears. "Besides, it's not like we can just up and leave whenever we want. We've got a job to do."

The young soldier nodded solemnly. "That's for sure. But maybe one day, when this is all over, we'll get to go back and see the races in person. You know, like your brother always wanted."

Emily smiled at the thought, but it was tinged with sadness. She knew that for many of them, that day might never come. The war had already taken too much, and she feared it would continue to claim lives long after the final battle had been fought.

As they stood there, watching the race together, a part of her couldn't help but wonder if her brother's dream had been selfish. He had wanted so badly to bring a bit of joy and normalcy to their lives, but in doing so, had he failed to see the bigger picture? Had he underestimated the sacrifices that they, and countless others like them, would have to make?

Emily glanced over at Tom, his face lit up with excitement as a particularly daring move played out on the screen. She knew that he, like her, had left behind friends, family, and a life they could have only dreamed of. And for what? To fight a war that seemed to have no end in sight? To risk their lives for a cause that sometimes felt as distant and uncertain as the drivers on the screen?

But then again, maybe that was the point. Maybe it wasn't about the race or the glory or the cheering crowds. Maybe it was about finding something, anything, to hold onto when everything else felt so fleeting and fragile. It was about creating moments of normalcy and joy in the midst of the chaos, however brief they might be.

Emily looked at her friend, feeling a sudden surge of gratitude for his presence. They might not be at the track, but they were together, sharing this experience, however small it might seem. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

The world around them seemed to fade away as the race continued, the sound of gunfire and explosions replaced by the roar of the engines. Soldiers ducked for cover, returning fire as they moved, their training taking over as they fought to protect one another. Emily's heart raced, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps, but she forced herself to stay calm, to focus on the task at hand.

She glanced at her friend, Tom, crouched down beside her, his face etched with determination. She could see the fear in his eyes, but he refused to show it. They were a team, and they would fight together until the end. As they took cover behind a fallen tree, Emily caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. She signaled to Tom, and together they flanked their position, guns at the ready.

The enemy soldiers were advancing quickly, using the cover of smoke to their advantage. Emily felt her heart pounding in her chest as she took aim, steadying her breath. She knew that every shot had to count. Tom nodded at her, and they both opened fire. The sound of gunfire filled the air as the two sides battled for control of the territory.

Emily ducked down behind a rock, reloading her weapon as quickly as she could. She glanced over at Tom, who was crouched down beside her, his face etched with determination. They had to hold their ground; they couldn't afford to give an inch. As she reloaded, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and immediately knew that they were outnumbered.

"They're surrounding us!" she yelled to Tom. He nodded grimly, his eyes fixed on the advancing enemy soldiers. They couldn't stay here; they had to find a way to break through the encirclement. As they crawled away from their makeshift cover, bullets whizzed past them, throwing up clouds of dirt and debris.

Emily glanced around frantically, searching for any possible escape route. Ahead of them, she spotted a rusty old jeep parked beneath a cluster of trees. It was their only hope. "Tom, over there!" she shouted, pointing at the jeep. "We have to make a run for it!, tell the otto meet us there"

Tom nodded in agreement, his face etched with determination. They couldn't afford to waste any more time. With renewed strength, they sprinted toward the jeep, bullets whizzing past them. Emily felt the wind of a near-miss bullet on her cheek, but she didn't let it deter her. They had to make it.

As they neared the jeep, Emily glanced over her shoulder, hoping to see the enemy losing ground. But the soldiers were closing in fast, their numbers seemingly endless. She gritted her teeth and pushed herself harder, her lungs burning from the effort. Tom reached the jeep first, yanking open the door and gesturing for her to get in.

Emily climbed into the driver's seat just as Tom threw himself into the passenger seat beside her. She slammed the door shut and turned the key, the engine roaring to life. As she put the jeep in gear, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. It was the others. They were running toward the jeep, their own gunfire muffled by the sound of their own panicked breathing.

Emily gunned the engine, the jeep leaping forward with a jolt. As they raced toward their friend, bullets rained down on them from all sides. The jeep swerved violently, tires spinning in the dirt as they careened out of control. Emily fought to regain control, her knuckles white from the force she was exerting on the steering wheel.

"They're gaining on us!" Tom yelled, his voice tense and panicked. Emily felt her heart sink. They had to shake the enemy off somehow. She glanced in the rearview mirror, trying to find an escape route, but there was nothing but trees and more soldiers. They were trapped.

She slammed on the brakes, causing the jeep to fishtail. The enemy soldiers, caught off guard, scattered. Emily took the opportunity to do a U-turn, racing back toward the encampment they had left behind. Tom leaned out of the window, firing wildly at the soldiers in their way. "We have to reach the camp!" he shouted, his words whipping away in the wind. "We have to warn them!"

Emily nodded, her knuckles white as she gripped the steering wheel. The jeep swerved and careened through the trees, narrowly avoiding collisions with obstacles in their path. As they neared the camp, she could see the soldiers had already overrun it. Burning structures and the sounds of gunfire filled the air. "They're already here," she whispered, dread filling her voice.

The jeep came to a skidding halt near what was left of the camp entrance. Emily and Tom exchanged a grim look before they leapt out, weapons at the ready. Bullets whizzed past them as they sprinted toward the command center, their boots sinking into the soft earth with each step. "Where are they?" Emily shouted over the chaos, her eyes darting around wildly for any sign of their team.

"This way!" Tom shouted, pointing toward a nearby hut. They dashed toward it, weaving in and out of the hail of bullets As they approache the hut, they could hear muffled voices coming from within. Emily signaled for Tom to cover her as she threw herself against the door, bursting into the hut.

The small structure was cramped with soldiers, all of them scrambling for cover. Emily spotted her team huddled together in the corner, their weapons drawn. "Over here!" she shouted, waving them over. The soldiers turned their attention to her, opening fire. Emily felt the impact of several bullets against her body, sending her flying back into the dirt. She winced in pain, struggling to breathe.

"Emily!" Tom shouted, rushing toward her. He knelt beside her, his hands trembling as he tried to stanch the bleeding. "We have to get out of here," he whispered, his voice shaking. "We can't stay here."

Emily forced herself to take a deep breath, wincing as pain shot through her chest. "No," she wheezed. "We can't leave them." She glanced around at her team, their faces pale and streaked with dirt and tears. "We have to fight back."

"But they've already taken over the camp," Tom protested. "How are we supposed to do that?"

Emily closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers, his hands trembling as he tried to keep her alive. "We can't just give up," she whispered. "Not like this."

Tom didn't answer, his gaze fixed on the soldiers surrounding them. There had to be a way out. They just had to find it. As their breaths came in ragged gasps, they glanced around the hut, searching for any sign of an escape route.

Emily's eyes fell on a crate in the corner, piled high with ammunition and weapons. She motioned for her team to follow her as she crept over to it. Carefully, she began to distribute the weapons among them, making sure each person had at least one. As they armed themselves, they also took whatever extra ammunition they could find.

"Okay," Emily whispered, her voice barely audible above the gunfire. "We're going to make a run for it. We'll use the crate as cover, and try to reach that jeep." She gestured toward the vehicle, barely visible through the haze of smoke and dust. "Once we're in, we'll make a break for it."

The soldiers surrounding them paused for a moment, seemingly surprised by the team's unexpected plan. Tom took advantage of the distraction and threw a grenade at the soldiers, hoping to buy them some time. The explosion rocked the hut, sending debris and dirt flying everywhere. Screams filled the air as the soldiers scattered in panic.

"Now!" Emily shouted, grabbing one end of the crate. Her team members followed suit, each taking hold of an end as they began to drag it toward the jeep. Bullets whizzed past them, thudding into the wooden crate and sending splinters flying. They moved as quickly as they dared, ducking behind what cover they could find.

As they reached the jeep, Emily glanced back at the hut, her heart racing. The soldiers had already begun to regroup, their numbers swelling as more and more of them emerged from the smoke and dust. There was no time to lose. She turned to her team, her voice tight with urgency. "Get in the jeep! I'll cover you."

Tom and the others climbed into the vehicle, their hands shaking as they fumbled with the doors and the ignition. Emily took a deep breath, steadying herself before turning to face the approaching soldiers. She lifted her weapon, aiming at the center of the group as they charged toward her. Bullets whizzed past her ears, sending dirt and debris flying, but she remained steady, firing round after round at the oncoming threat.

As Emily continued to fight, she glanced over at the jeep, watching as it lurched forward, gaining speed. She knew that she couldn't hold off the soldiers for much longer. With a final burst of adrenaline, she sprinted toward the vehicle, leaping into the back seat just as another wave of bullets struck the ground where she had been standing only moments before.

The jeep sped away from the hut, leaving a trail of smoke and dust in its wake. Emily slumped forward in her seat, gripping the edge of the door frame as she tried to catch her breath. Tom, his face pale and streaked with dirt, reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. "We did it," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We're getting out of here."

But even as they drove, they couldn't shake the feeling that they were being followed. Emily glanced in her rearview mirror, her heart racing as she saw a line of soldiers marching steadily behind them. "They're still after us," she said, her voice tense. "We need to lose them."

"I've got an idea," Tom replied, his hands tight on the dashboard. "Follow my lead." He reached for the jeep's radio and switched it on, then began to speak into the mic in their native language. "Hey, you! Yes, you, the soldiers back there. This is Alpha team, reporting in. We're fine, but we're being pursued by your boys. We could really use some backup."

Emily glanced at him, surprise etched on her face. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked. "We don't know who we can trust."

Tom shrugged, his expression grim. "We have to try something. If we can get them to think we're part of their team, maybe they'll back off."

Emily hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. She keyed the mic herself. "Roger that, team. We need you to provide cover fire and extract us from the area. Over."

The jeep raced through the jungle, its engine growling as they wove in and out of the trees, trying to lose their pursuers. After several tense minutes, Emily glanced in her mirror and saw a group of soldiers break off from the main group, taking up positions behind rocks and trees. They began to fire on the soldiers chasing after them, creating a distraction that allowed Emily to veer sharply to the left and lose sight of them.

A moment later, the radio crackled to life. "Alpha team, this is command. We've heard your call for backup. Stand by for extraction. Repeat, stand by for extraction." Emily let out a sigh of relief, grateful that their ruse had worked. "Roger that, command. We're standing by," she replied, glancing at Tom and then back at the road.

The jeep continued to race through the jungle, the soldiers' shouts and gunfire growing fainter in the distance. As they drove, Emily couldn't shake the feeling that they were still being followed. She couldn't help but wonder who they could trust among their own team.

"Hey, Tom," she said, her voice tight with tension. "You really think we can trust them, after all that?"

He glanced over at her, his expression grim. "I don't know, Em. But we don't really have a choice, do we? They've got us in their sights, and they know where we're going."

Emily nodded, her grip tight on the steering wheel. She wished she could trust anyone in this mess. But with each passing moment, it seemed as if they were further from allies and closer to becoming enemy targets. "Maybe they'll back off once they think we're safe," she said, more to convince herself than anything else.

The jeep careened through the jungle, branches scratching at the sides of the vehicle like claws. They drove in silence for a while, the only sound the engine's roar and the rustle of leaves. Emily glanced at Tom, wondering if he was feeling as lost and uncertain as she was. His face was set in a grim expression, his eyes darting from side to side, scanning the jungle around them.

As they continued to drive, she could feel the weight of exhaustion pressing down on her. The blood loss from her injury was starting to take its toll, and she was having a hard time focusing on the road. She reached over to her belt and pulled out a small vial of painkillers, popping two of them into her mouth and chasing them down with a swig of water. The medicine kicked in almost instantly, bringing a welcome wave of relief.

Emily glanced at Tom, who was staring out the window, his expression unreadable. "You okay?" she asked, her voice hoarse from fatigue. He nodded, but she could tell he was lying. "We'll make it to the rendezvous point, Tom. We just need to keep going."

As they continued down the winding jungle road, Emily felt her grip on consciousness slipping. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept, or if she'd even eaten anything since this whole mess started. The pain in her side throbbed with each bump in the road, making it difficult to focus on driving. She wished she could just close her eyes for a moment, but she knew she couldn't risk it.

Tom glanced over at her, concern etched into his features. "You doing okay, Em?" he asked, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She flinched at his touch, the pain in her side intensifying. "I can take over if you need to rest," he offered.

Emily forced a smile, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. "I'm fine, really. Just a little tired. But we can't stop now, not with them still after us." She paused, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Besides, you're not much of a driver anyway," she added with a weak laugh.

Tom laughed softly in response, his expression easing slightly. "Well, I'm not about to argue with that," he said, settling back into his seat. "Just let me know if you need anything."

Emily nodded, keeping her eyes on the road ahead. As they continued to drive deeper into the jungle, the air grew thick with humidity, and sweat began to bead on her forehead. She wiped it away with the back of her hand, wishing she could roll down the window, but knowing they couldn't risk attracting attention.

Her eyelids felt heavy, and she fought against the urge to close them even for a moment. The pain in her side was becoming unbearable, and she could feel herself starting to drift off, her grip on consciousness slipping. She knew she needed to rest, but she couldn't risk it. Not yet.

Emily glanced at Tom, his expression mirroring her own exhaustion. "I'm really sorry, Tom. I don't know how much longer I can keep going like this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tom reached over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Hey, it's okay. We'll figure something out. We're in this together, remember?" His words were calm, but his grip was tight, as if he were trying to hold onto something fragile.

Emily forced a smile, squeezing his hand back. "Yeah, I remember. Thanks, Tom." She glanced in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see the headlights of their pursuers closing in. But the road behind them was empty. For now.

"Hey, Tom," she said, her voice quiet. "Do you ever think about what we'd be doing if all this hadn't happened? You know, if we were just regular kids, not part of this whole mess?"

Tom shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I think we'd still be here, doing something important. Maybe not with the OASIS, but with something else. We're both good people, Em. We'd find a way to make a difference."

Emily looked over at him, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Thanks, Tom. I hope you're right." She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Look, I know I'm not making this easy, but I need you to promise me something."

Tom's brow furrowed in concern. "What is it?"

Emily took a deep breath and forced a smile. "It's just… if something happens to me, if I don't make it out of here, I want you to make sure they know. My brothers, I mean. Tell them… tell them everything. About the OASIS, about Halliday, about what we found… and tell them that I love them, okay?" Her voice cracked, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Tell them that I'm so sorry for leaving them, and that I'll always be with them. And tell my mom… tell her thank you. Tell her that I appreciate everything she's ever done for me."

There was a long pause as the weight of her words hung heavily in the air. Finally, Tom reached over and squeezed her hand. "I promise, Em. I'll make sure they know. I'll make sure everyone knows." His voice was solemn, and Emily felt a surge of relief wash over her.

She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Thanks, Tom. That means a lot to me." She glanced at Aech, who was still staring out the window, lost in thought. "Hey, Aech, how we doing so far?"

Aech turned back to her, his expression distant. "We're doing fine, Em. Just keep driving." He paused, then added with a small smile, "And try not to worry too much, okay?"

Emily nodded, her heart still racing. She focused on the road ahead, forcing herself to drive at a steady pace. The speedometer needle crept up as they raced past one exit sign after another. They were almost there.

"You guys okay back there?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder. Aech gave her a reassuring smile, while Tom continued to stare out the window, his jaw clenched tight. "Tom?" she prompted.

He took a deep breath and turned to face her. "Yeah, Em. I'm fine. Just thinking about what we're about to face." His voice was steady, but there was a hint of fear in his eyes. Emily felt a pang of guilt for involving him in all of this.

"Me too," she said, glancing back at Aech. "I know this is a lot to ask of you, Tom. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to turn back."

Tom's expression was grim, but he didn't hesitate. "Em, you know I'm not going to leave you. We're in this together, and I'm not about to abandon you now." There was a fierce determination in his voice, and Emily felt a surge of gratitude for his loyalty.

She nodded, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. "Thanks, Tom. I appreciate that. So… we just keep going?"

"Yeah," Aech said, finally breaking his silence. "Just a few more miles now." He glanced at Emily, then leaned forward in his seat, lowering his voice. "But be ready, Em. This isn't going to be easy."

Emily nodded, her knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel. "I know," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been thinking about what to say… what to expect. But no matter what happens, I want you guys to know that I couldn't have done any of this without you."

A silence fell over the car as they continued to race down the empty highway. The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the road ahead. Emily's heart felt like it was in her throat, but she forced herself to stay focused on the task at hand.

Finally, she couldn't bear the tension any longer. "Guys," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I just wanted to say… if something happens to me, if I don't make it out of here… please, please tell my brothers. Tell Enzo, Charles, and Aurthur that I love them more than anything, and that I'm sorry if I ever let them down. And tell my mom… tell her that I appreciate everything she's ever done for me. That I'm grateful for every moment we spent together, even when we fought. And tell her that I'm sorry for the arguments we had. That I was just trying to protect her."

Emily paused, wiping a tear from her cheek. "And if you could… could you give them all a big hug for me? Just tell them that I'll be thinking of them, and that I'll always be with them, no matter what."

Tom's voice was gruff as he spoke up. "Yeah, Em. We'll make sure they know, but your going to make it out of here yourself and can tell them yourself" He reached over and squeezed her shoulder, his grip reassuring.

Aech nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Emily, we believe in you. We know you can do this." His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of fear and uncertainty beneath it.

The highway stretched out before them, seemingly endless in the fading light. Emily could feel the weight of Aech's words pressing down on her, the gravity of the situation bearing down on her shoulders. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and then began to slow the car down.

As they approached the tollbooth, she rolled down her window and handed the attendant a twenty-dollar bill. "It's for the road," she said with a weak smile, her voice barely audible over the rush of the wind. The attendant smiled back at her, nodding understandingly, and then waved them through.

Emily glanced in the rearview mirror as they drove past the booth, her reflection pale and haunted. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, before turning back to her friends. "Okay, so here we are," she said, her voice shaking slightly. "I'm going to pull over up ahead and walk the rest of the way from here. You guys just stay in the car, okay?"

Aech nodded, his grip tightening on the wheel. "Yeah, we'll wait here. Just be careful, Em."

Emily pulled the car over to the side of the road and set the emergency brake. She took one last deep breath, then opened the door and stepped out onto the gravel shoulder. The air was cool against her face, and the sun had disappeared below the horizon, leaving the sky a deep shade of purple. She squinted at the horizon, searching for any signs of movement.

Turning back to the car, she waved at her friends through the open window. "I love you guys," she said, her voice barely audible above the sound of the wind. "Thank you for everything."

Aech leaned out of the window, his expression a mix of determination and fear. "You can do this, Em. We believe in you."

Emily nodded, trying to muster up some courage. "Thanks, Aech. I love you too." She turned back to Tom, her voice shaking. "And you, Tom. You've been such a great friend. Thank you for everything."

Tears were streaming down Emily's face as she spoke, but she forced herself to smile at them through her tears. "I'm going to do this," she said, more confidently than she felt. "I'm going to make it."

Aech nodded, his own eyes wet with tears. "You're right, Em. You can do this." He reached over and squeezed her shoulder, his grip reassuring. "And we'll be right here waiting for you. No matter what happens."

Emily took a deep breath, steeling herself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. She turned back to the car and opened the door, stepping out onto the gravel shoulder. The wind whipped her hair across her face as she looked out at the highway, the cars speeding past in both directions.

She glanced over at Aech and Tom, their faces etched with concern, their eyes filled with love and support. "I love you both so much," she said, her voice trembling. "And I want you to know that no matter what happens, I want you to keep living your lives to the fullest. Don't let anything hold you back, okay?"

Emily took a deep breath and then turned her attention back to the highway. The cars were speeding past in a blur, the headlights like tiny pinpricks of light in the darkness. "I'm going to run across the highway now," she said, her voice steady despite the fear that threatened to consume her. "Just stay here and wait for me, okay?"

Aech nodded, his grip tight on the seat. "We won't go anywhere, Em. We'll just wait right here for you."

Emily took a deep breath, steeling herself against the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. "Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you both so much. And thank you… thank you for everything."

She turned her back to Aech and Tom, taking one final glance at their worried faces before facing the highway. The wind whipped her hair across her face as she looked out at the speeding cars, her heart pounding in her chest. In that moment, she knew that she was committing herself to the most terrifying and heroic act of her life.

Emily closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and then began to run. The hot asphalt scorched her feet as she sprinted across the highway, weaving in and out of the headlights. Her lungs burned and her legs felt like lead, but she forced herself to keep going. She couldn't let her brothers down, couldn't let her mom down. This was her last chance to make a difference.

Ahead of her, she could see the entrance to the interstate. It was so close, yet it seemed like an impossible distance away. She could hear Aech and Tom shouting her name, their voices distant and muffled by the rush of wind and the roar of the cars. She forced herself to ignore the fear that threatened to overwhelm her, focusing instead on the image of her brothers' faces, the way they'd smile when they thought no one was looking.

Emily's lungs burned, her legs ached, but she kept running, refusing to give up. With every step, she felt a new surge of determination, a new wave of courage. She wasn't going to let her brothers down. She wasn't going to let her mom down. She was going to make it across that highway, no matter what it took.

As she neared the entrance to the interstate, she could hear Aech and Tom shouting her name louder than ever before, their voices a beacon of hope in the darkness. They believed in her, and she was going to prove them right. She wasn't going to let anything stand in her way.

With one final burst of energy, Emily sprinted across the last few feet of the highway, the hot asphalt burning the soles of her feet. She leapt, pushing off with all her might, and landed safely on the shoulder of the interstate. Tears streamed down her face as she turned around to see Aech and Tom still standing at the other end of the highway, their hands raised in the air, their fists clenched in triumph.

"I made it!" she shouted, her voice barely audible over the roar of the cars. "I did it! I'm here!"

Aech and Tom exchanged glances, relief and pride washing over their faces. They knew that the next part of their plan was just as dangerous, if not more so. They had to find a way to get across the interstate and meet Emily at the other end.

"Alright, Em," Aech said, his voice steady despite the tremor of emotion. "We're gonna need you to keep an eye out for us. Look for the big red truck we've been using as our ride. When you see it, give us a wave, okay?"

Emily nodded, her eyes scanning the cars as they sped past her. She could see the interstate stretching out in front of her, a ribbon of light cutting through the darkness. "I see it!" she shouted, pointing to the right. "I see the truck!"

Aech and Tom exchanged glances, their faces tight with determination. They began to run, weaving their way through the cars, their eyes never leaving Emily as they made their way across the interstate. They knew that the distance between them was closing with each step, but the cars still seemed to move impossibly fast.

Emily kept her eyes fixed on them, her heart pounding in her chest. She waved frantically when she saw them begin to run, her relief and joy palpable. Despite the danger, she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride in her team. They were running toward her, putting their lives on the line to save her, just as she would do for them.

As they drew closer, Aech and Tom broke into a sprint, weaving their way through the cars with a newfound sense of determination. They were almost there, their arms pumping, their breath coming in ragged gasps. Emily could see the desperation in their eyes, the determination to reach her no matter what it took.

She wanted nothing more than to be with them, to escape this hell together. But as she stood there, watching them run toward her, she couldn't help but think about the last thing she had said to them. About her brothers, and her mom.

Emily closed her eyes, trying to block out the images that flashed through her mind. Enzo, Charles, and Arthur. They were only kids, just like her. They didn't deserve this life. They didn't deserve to grow up in a world where people like Sorrento could exist. And her mom… Emily couldn't even begin to fathom the pain she must be going through right now. loosing their dad was hard but loosing her only daughter would be even harder.

She opened her eyes and looked at Aech and Tom, their faces contorted with determination and fear. "If I don't make it," she said, her voice barely audible over the sound of the cars, "tell them… tell them I love them. Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them…" Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to find the words. "Tell them everything. Tell them I'll always be with them."

Aech and Tom exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of understanding and determination. "We will, Em," Aech said, his voice steady. "We'll make sure they know."

Emily nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you," she managed to choke out. "Just… just get me out of here, okay?"

Aech and Tom exchanged another glance, their expressions grim. They were almost within reaching distance now, their arms outstretched as they lunged forward, their feet barely touching the ground as they sprinted toward her. "We're almost there, Em," Aech panted. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily nodded, trying to steel her resolve as she felt the weight of their words. She knew that her brothers and mother were depending on them, and she couldn't help but feel guilty for putting them in this position. But she also knew that she couldn't give up. She had to keep fighting, for their sake as much as her own.

As Aech and Tom neared, she could see the determination in their eyes, the fire in their hearts. They were going to get her out of this hell, no matter the cost. And when they did, they were going to make sure that those responsible paid dearly.

Emily's breath came in ragged gasps as she watched them approach, their feet barely touching the ground as they sprinted toward her. They were almost there, just a few more steps, and she would be free from this nightmare. She forced herself to stand tall, to be strong, for her brothers and her mother.

"You can do this, Em," Aech panted, his hand reaching out to grab hers. "We're not leaving you behind."

Emily gripped his hand tightly, her fingers digging into his skin as they sprinted toward her. She could feel the weight of their words, the determination in their voices. They were going to get her out of this hell, no matter what it took.

As they neared, Aech and Tom exchanged one last glance, their faces etched with resolve. They had been through so much together, and they weren't about to let anything stop them now. With a final burst of speed, they reached Emily's side, their arms wrapping around her as they pulled her away from the oncoming traffic.

The impact of the car almost knocked them off their feet, but they held onto Emily tightly, refusing to let go. They stumbled backwards, away from the danger, their hearts racing and their lungs burning from the exertion. As they finally managed to put some distance between them and the cars, they lowered Emily to the ground, her limp body trembling from the adrenaline and fear.

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances as they crouched beside her. They knew they needed to get her to safety, but first they had to make sure she was okay. "Em," Aech said, his voice shaking, "are you hurt?"

Emily let out a shuddering breath, her eyes closed tightly as tears streamed down her face. "I… I don't know," she managed to choke out. "I think… I think I'm okay."

Aech and Tom exchanged glances once more, their brows furrowed with concern. They knew that they needed to get her to safety, but they also wanted to make sure that she was really okay before they left.

Emily let out another shuddering breath, her shoulders shaking as she wiped away the tears that streamed down her face. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself before speaking. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out. "I just need… I need a minute."

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances again. They knew that Emily was in shock, and they needed to keep her talking, to keep her mind off of what had just happened. "Of course, Em," Aech said, his voice gentle. "Take all the time you need."

Emily took another deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I just need… I need to be with them. To tell them myself."

Aech nodded, understanding. "Of course, Em. We'll make sure that happens." He glanced over at Tom, who nodded back. They knew they couldn't bring her home just yet; they had to get her to safety first. But they also knew how important it was for Emily to be with her family.

They carefully helped Emily to her feet, supporting her weight between them. Her knees were shaking, and she leaned heavily into them as they began to walk again. They didn't know where they were going, but they knew they had to keep moving.

As they walked, Aech kept glancing over at Emily, worried about how she was holding up. Her face was pale, and she seemed to be in shock. "Are you sure you're okay, Em?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Emily nodded, but her voice was shaky when she spoke. "I… I think so. I just need to see them, you know? I need to tell them." Her eyes filled with tears again, and she wiped them away roughly with the back of her hand.

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances once more. They knew that getting Emily to safety was their priority, but they also understood how important it was for her to be with her family. They continued to walk, searching for a safe place where they could call for help or find someone to help them. they need to contact base camp or the police, but they didn't know how to do that from here.

As they walked, Emily leaned heavily on their shoulders, her body trembling from the adrenaline and fear. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything but the urgent need to see her family. She knew that they would be waiting for her back home, worried sick about what had happened. The thought of facing them and telling them what she had just been through was almost unbearable.

Aech and Tom exchanged glances again, their expressions growing more concerned. They didn't know how much longer they could carry her weight, but they refused to leave her side. They needed to find a safe place where they could get help, and fast.

As they continued to walk, Emily's body grew heavier, her breathing more labored. Her eyes fluttered open and closed, her lips moving silently as if she were praying. Aech reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, debating whether they should call for help or try to find someone who could help them first., but it was broke and their radios weren't working either, so they were pretty much on their own.

"Em, I'm going to need you to hold on tight to me, okay?" he said, his voice gentle but firm. Emily nodded weakly, her fingers clutching at his jacket. They walked on, their footsteps echoing through the empty warehouse.

Aech glanced over at Tom, who shrugged. They both knew they couldn't carry Emily much farther. Her weight was becoming too much for them, and their own strength was starting to flag. They needed help, fast.

"Em, listen," Aech said, his voice firm but gentle. "We need to find someone to help us. Can you keep walking a little bit longer, okay?" Emily's eyes fluttered open, and she nodded weakly. A tear slipped down her cheek.

They continued to search through the empty warehouse, their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. Every now and then, they would hear distant noises outside, but they couldn't tell if they were coming closer or moving farther away. The air was cold and damp, and Emily shivered violently as she tried to keep pace with Aech and Tom.

"Hang in there, Em," Aech said softly, his arm tight around her shoulders. "We'll find someone to help us soon." But even as he spoke, he knew that they were running out of time. Emily's weight was becoming more and more difficult to bear, and their own strength was beginning to wane. They had to find help quickly, before something worse happened.

They continued to wander through the endless corridors of the warehouse, their footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. The air was cold and damp, and Emily's body shivered violently as she tried to keep up with their pace. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her eyelids fluttered open and closed, as if she were struggling to stay conscious.

Aech and Tom exchanged worried glances, their faces pale in the dim light. They knew they couldn't carry Emily much farther, and they were running out of time. As they rounded a corner, they spotted a figure in the distance, huddled against the wall. It was a man, dressed in the uniform of a maintenance worker.

"Over here!" Aech called out, waving his arms frantically. The maintenance worker looked up, startled, and hurried over to them. "We need help," Aech said urgently. "Our lieutentent here has been hurt, and she's losing consciousness."

The maintenance worker's expression turned grave as he knelt beside Emily. "What happened?" he asked, feeling for a pulse at her neck. " shes been shot" said tom and aech together. The maintenance worker nodded, his face tight with concern. "Okay, let's get her to the infirmary as fast as we can."

He carefully scooped Emily up into his arms, cradling her gently against his chest. Aech and Tom followed close behind, their hearts pounding with worry. As they hurried through the maze of corridors, the maintenance worker gave them a quick update. "I'm sorry, but Emily has lost a lot of blood. We need to get her to the infirmary right away. If we don't, she could die."

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight as they continued their frantic race through the warehouse. They turned a corner and almost ran headlong into another group of of thier team, also searching for help. "Over here!" Aech called out, waving his arms to avoid a collision.

The group, consisting of four soldiers and their commanding officer, hurried over. "What's going on?" their CO demanded, his eyes darting between them. "Where's Emily?" Without a word, Aech and Tom pointed down the corridor they had just come from. The soldiers immediately took charge, two of them running ahead to scout the area while the others crouched down beside Emily and began administering first aid.

The maintenance worker, grateful for the extra help, stepped back to allow the soldiers to work their magic. He glanced at his watch, his brow furrowed. "We're not far from the infirmary," he said. "We can get her there quickly, but she's in bad shape."

Emily's breathing became shallower, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, her expression a mix of fear and confusion. "Wha-what happened?" she managed to croak. One of the soldiers, his voice steady and reassuring, replied, "Shhh, you're safe now. We're taking you to the infirmary where they'll fix you up."

The maintenance worker, who had been watching her closely, nodded in agreement. He glanced at his watch again, his brow furrowing as he realized they were taking longer than anticipated. "We shouldn't waste any more time," he muttered under his breath.

As they continued their frantic dash down the corridor, Emily's breath grew shallower and her skin paler. Her heart raced, and her head began to spin. "I-I'm n-not…," she stammered, her voice barely audible.

The maintenance worker, who was now carrying her, glanced back worriedly at the group following them. "We're almost there," he assured her, his voice shaking. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily felt as if she were floating, her body growing heavier with each passing second. Her vision blurred, and she could no longer make out the faces of her teammates or the unfamiliar hallways they were hurrying through. She tried to focus on their voices, but they seemed to fade in and out like a distant radio signal.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, she was vaguely aware of the maintenance worker carrying her, his strong arms supporting her weight as he raced through the warehouse. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her ear, and the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat beneath her cheek. She wanted to tell him that she was okay, that she would be fine, but her words wouldn't come out.

The corridor spun around her, a blur of white walls and red emergency lights. She caught glimpses of her teammates, their faces etched with worry and determination, their movements a blur as they hurried along beside them. The air around her felt thick and heavy, like she was swimming through water, and her limbs felt impossibly heavy.

Emily tried to focus on anything, but her vision was foggy and her thoughts were slow and sluggish. She wanted to tell them she was okay, that she would be fine, but the words wouldn't come out. Instead, she let herself be carried by the rhythm of their steps, her head lolling against the maintenance worker's shoulder as he hurried down the hallway.

The air around her felt thick and hot, like she was wrapped in a blanket made of heavy wool. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy, and every movement was a struggle. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt this tired, this weak.

The maintenance worker carrying her seemed to sense her distress, glancing over his shoulder at her with concern etched on his face. "Almost there," he assured her, his voice rough with emotion. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily felt a pang of regret as she looked down at her jacket pocket, wondering what the small, glinting object was that had caused such a commotion. She knew it must be important, but her thoughts were growing fuzzy, and she couldn't seem to focus on anything but the exhaustion that was slowly creeping up on her.

The maintenance worker carrying her glanced back at her with concern, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to the group following them. "Almost there," he murmured reassuringly, his breath warm against her ear.

Emily tried to focus on his voice, on the words he was saying, but her eyelids grew heavy and her head spun. The air around her seemed to grow thicker, more oppressive with each passing second, making it difficult to breathe. She felt as if she were drowning, her limbs growing heavier and more leaden with every struggle.

The maintenance worker carrying her glanced back at her with concern, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he turned his attention back to the group following them. "Almost there," he murmured reassuringly, his breath warm against her ear. "Just hold on a little longer."

Emily felt a surge of determination as she tried to focus on his voice, on the words he was saying. She wanted to tell him that she was okay, that she would be fine, but her words wouldn't come out. Instead, she tried to sit up straighter, to steel herself against the overwhelming fatigue that threatened to drag her down.

The maintenance worker, sensing her renewed strength, adjusted his grip on her, his arms supporting her weight more securely. He glanced over his shoulder at her with a reassuring smile, his eyes meeting hers for a moment before he turned back to the group following them. "this way there are some doctors waiting for us ," he assured her, his voice strong and steady.

Emily forced herself to focus on his words, to take in the details of the corridor around her. The air felt cleaner now, less oppressive, and the red emergency lights seemed to dim ever so slightly. The walls were still a sterile white, but she could see signs of life now: posters advertising safety procedures, reminders to wash hands, and even a few bright flowers in a vase near the end of the hall.

As they rounded a corner, she caught a glimpse of the doctors waiting for them. They looked serious, but their eyes were full of concern and compassion. The maintenance worker carrying her slowed his pace, careful not to jostle her too much, and finally came to a stop in front of a set of double doors. One of the doctors stepped forward, taking her weight from the maintenance worker's arms.

Emily felt a wave of relief wash over her as she was lowered gently onto a waiting gurney. The doctor who had taken her weight quickly checked her vitals, noting her heightened heart rate and rapid breathing. He glanced at the maintenance worker and the others who had accompanied her, their faces etched with worry.

"She's stable for now," the doctor murmured, his voice calm and reassuring. "We'll take her back to get her checked out and she may need surgery based on her injuries" He turned to the waiting nurses, issuing instructions as they wheeled her down the hall.

Emily lay on the gurney, her eyes fluttering open and closed as she tried to make sense of what was happening. The corridor seemed to stretch on forever, the white walls and sterile floors bathed in the harsh red emergency lights. She could hear the distant beeping of machines and the muffled footsteps of medical staff as they hurried past.

The doctor who had taken her vital signs was now examining her closely, his face a mask of concern. "Emily," he began gently, "I'm afraid you've been shot multiple times. You're going to be okay, but we need to get you to surgery as soon as possible." He paused, meeting her eyes with a reassuring smile. "You're in good hands here. Just try to rest and focus on getting better."

Emily tried to nod, but the movement made her wince with pain. "Okay," she managed to croak out.

The doctor gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before stepping back. "We're almost there," he told her, his voice steady and calm. "The surgical team is waiting for you."

Emily closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as the gurney began to roll forward once more. The sterile air of the hallway gave way to the familiar smell of antiseptic and the beeping of machines as they entered the surgical ward. Doctors and nurses in sterile white coats bustled around them, their efficient movements a testament to their expertise and training.

As they approached a set of double doors, a woman in a pale blue scrub suit rushed over to them. "Dr. Webber," she said, her voice tinged with urgency, "we're ready for you in Room 3. The anesthesiologist and the surgical team are waiting."

Dr. Webber, a tall man with kind eyes and a reassuring smile, nodded gratefully at the nurse. "Thank you, grey . How's she doing?"

"Her vitals are stable for now," the intern replied, glancing briefly at Emily before turning back to Dr. Webber. "But we're keeping a close eye on her. The anesthesiologist is ready to put her under as soon a we're in the OR."

Dr. Webber nodded, his expression grave but determined. "Thank you, . Let's get her in there and take care of her." He turned to Emily's teams, who ere waiting anxiously nearby. "gentlemen" he said gently, "we're going to take excellent care of your lieutenant We'll keep you updated every step of the way."

The team of surgeons filed into the operating room, led by Dr. Webber and the anesthesiologist. Emily's eyes fluttered open, panic rising in her chest as she realized she was about to be put under. "Wait," she managed to croak out, her voice barely audible over the beeping of the machines, "tom and aech… they… they called my mom yet…?" Her heart felt like it was lodged in her throat, and she struggled to breathe.

Dr. Webber glanced over his shoulder at the nurse, who nodded understandingly. "Don't worry, Emily," he said gently, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "They're here with you. Your friends tom and aech called your mother earlier to let her know what was going on. They're both here in the waiting room, waiting for updates from us. We'll make sure she knows you're doing as well as you can be."

Emily's chest tightened, but she forced herself to take a deep breath. "Okay," she managed to whisper. "Okay."

Dr. Webber smiled gently at her and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "I know it's scary, Emily, but we're here with you every step of the way. Your mom is going to be in good hands with tom and aech. They're both incredibly strong and resilient people, and they'll make sure she knows everything that's going on. You just focus on getting better, okay?"

Emily nodded weakly, tears welling up in her eyes. "Okay," she whispered.

Dr. Webber glanced at the anesthesiologist, who gave him a nod. "All right," he said gently, "let's get you prepped for surgery, Emily." The anesthesiologist placed a mask over Emily's face, and she felt the anesthesia begin to take effect. Her body went numb, and her surroundings grew fuzzy. She could hear distant voices, but they sounded as if they were underwater.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness, Emily's thoughts kept returning to tom and aech, and her mother and her siblings She wished she could be with them, to reassure them and to feel their love and support. She hoped they were all right, and that they knew she was going to be okay.

Meanwhile, back in the waiting room, tom and aech sat next to Emily's mother who was flown into immediately as she was called , holding her hands and rubbing her back. They had both called their own parents earlier to tell them what was going on and ask for their support. Tom had always been the strong one, but even he felt a lump in his throat as he tried to comfort Emily's mother.

"They're doing everything they can for her, Mrs. Leclerc ," tom said softly. "Dr. Webber is one of the best surgeons around. Emily is in good hands."

Aech nodded in agreement. "We've been texting each other updates from the waiting room. They've been telling us about every step of the process, and they sound so hopeful. They believe in her, just like we do."

" do the boys know what happened Pascale?" asked aech , his voice quivering slightly. Emily's mother shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "Dr. Webber explained that Emily's windpipe had become compressed, making it difficult for her to breathe. They're operating now to relieve the pressure and hopefully restore her breathing, and that a bullet ot two have entered her chest cavity " she managed to choke out.

Tom squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Dr. Webber and his team are some of the best in the business, and they're going to do everything they can for her. They've got all the latest technology at their fingertips, and they're not going to stop until she's better."

Aech nodded in agreement. "And Emily's a fighter, Mrs. Leclerc. She's been through a lot in her life, but she's always come out stronger on the other side. I know she's going to pull through this."

Pascale looked up at them, her red eyes filled with hope and gratitude. "Thank you both so much for being here for her," she said, her voice shaking. "I can't tell you how much it means to me, and to our entire family. Your support is going to help Emily more than you'll ever know."

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, an surgical intern cleared his throat. "So, uh, we talked to the doctors, and they're doing some tests to see how much damage was done to her windpipe, and how many ribs were broken. We'll let you know as soon as we hear anything."

Tom and Aech exchanged worried glances, then turned to Emily's mother who seemed in a dazed ans snapped her out of it. "They're running some tests, Pascale, but they're confident they can fix whatever's wrong. And, uh, they told us that Emily was very lucky. The bullet that hit her chest didn't damage any major organs, and it didn't even puncture her lung."

Pascale's eyes widened with hope. "Really?" she managed to choke out. "Then she has a good chance?"

Tom nodded solemnly. "That's right, Pascale. The doctors are very positive about her chances. They say that she's strong, and that she's fighting hard. We just have to keep the faith and be there for her."

' i should probably call Enzo and let him know what's happing and he can get here with Charles and Arthur as soon as they can' cried Pascale , already reaching for her purse. The two men exchanged a worried glance, but didn't say anything. They knew that Emily's family was close-knit, and that having her brothers there would mean the world to her.

"Here, let me do that," Aech said, gently taking her phone out of her hand. He dialed Emily's older brothers number and put it on speaker so Pascale could hear. There was a brief pause, and then a tired voice answered. "Hello?"

"Enzo, it's Aech. We're with Emily at the hospital. She was shot tonight, but the doctors are doing everything they can. They say she's strong and she's fighting hard," Aech said, his voice cracking slightly. "She's in good hands, but we could really use you and the rest of the family here with us."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Oh my God," Enzo finally whispered. "I'm on my way. Charles and Arthur too. We'll be there as soon as we can."

Pascale let out a shaky breath, her shoulders slumping in relief. "Thank you, Enzo. I can't tell you how much that means to us all. We love you and your brothers."

The room was filled with the sound of muffled sobs as the news began to sink in for Emily's family. Tom put his arm around Pascale, offering what little comfort he could. "We'll stay here with her, Pascale. You should go back to the hotel and get some rest. The doctors said there's nothing you can do right now, so try to get some sleep."

Pascale shook her head, wiping away tears. "I can't leave her," she whispered. "I can't, i can;t loose her too"

Tom squeezed her shoulder gently. "You need to take care of yourself, Pascale. Emily needs you to be strong for her. We'll stay right here with her, okay?"

Aech nodded in agreement. "And, listen, we'll keep you updated every step of the way. You're not going to hear anything through the news or social media that we don't tell you first, okay?"

Pascale nodded, sniffling. "Okay," she managed to say. "Thank you." She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, and buried her face in her hands. "I just can't believe this is happening," she whispered. "Why would someone do this to her?"

Tom placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We don't know, Pascale. But we'll find out. The commanders are on it." He glanced over at Aech, who was pacing back and forth near the window. "In the meantime, let's make sure Emily knows that we're all here for her, okay?"

Pascale nodded, sniffling as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. "Okay," she managed to say. "Thank you." She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

after a few hours later Enzo, Charles, Aurthur and their girlfriends arrive at the hospital.

they all walk in and see tom and aech sitting in the waiting chairs half asleep on each others shoulders while the rest of the team are spread around the waiting room.

As Enzo, Charles, Arthur, and their girlfriends approach, they exchange hugs and words of encouragement with Emily's team. They all take seats around the waiting room, trying to stay positive and supportive. The room is tense, but there's also an undercurrent of determination and strength that comes from being together in this difficult time

"wheres our mother?" asked charles "she should be here"

" we sent her back to the hotel a few hours ago to rest: said aech

"shes too worried about emily to get any sleep here." He looked over at enzo, charles and arthur. "i'm glad you all are here now. It helps."

"of course we're here for her. we'll get through this together." Enzo said, squeezing Tom's shoulder. "Any updates from the commanders?"

Aech shook his head. "Not yet, but they're working on it. They're going through all the footage from the arena, and they're trying to track down anyone who might have seen something." He glanced over at Emily, her condition seeming to grow more grave with each passing moment. "They'll find whoever did this, I promise."

"what happened exacly?" asked aurthur .

"well, according to the doctors, Emily was hit by a poisoned dart and shot multiply times while she was trying to save a teammate during the attack . They're still trying to stabilize her, but it's been a bit of a rollercoaster ride so far," explained Tom. "It's horrible, just horrible."

" we were ambushed from all sides, we had nowwhere to go" explained tom "i was shot, aech was shot, emily was shot. we tried to fight back but they were too many. we hid in the bushes and waited for backup but it never came"

" and then emily found a abandoned truck and carried everyone who was injured to the truck and drove like hell" aech said , starting to cry again "she saved all of us but they shot her again, they shot her in the chest" he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing "she's strong, she's going to be okay, we just have to believe that"

The waiting room remained tense as they continued to exchange stories and tried to comfort each other. Aurthur, Enzo, and Charles looked at each other, knowing that they had to be strong for Emily and the rest of the team. They each took turns pacing, trying to burn off some of the nervous energy that was coursing through their veins.

Charlette and Alex , enzo and charles girlfriends had went and gotten coffee for everyone and brought it back to the waiting room. They tried to make small talk with everyone but it seemed like no one wanted to talk. Everyone was too worried about Emily. Tom and Aech were constantly checking their phones, waiting for any news from the commanders.

"You know, Emily would want us to be strong right now. She'd want us to fight for her," Enzo said, trying to encourage the group. "We need to stay positive and believe that she's going to pull through this."

"I agree, Enzo. She's a fighter, and she's not going to give up without a fight," said Aurthur. "We just have to keep telling ourselves that."

The waiting room fell silent again as they all focused on Emily, willing her to pull through. The doctors and nurses came in and out, giving updates on her condition, but there was little change. They were still working to stabilize her.

Aech finally broke the silence. "Guys, I can't just sit here. I need to do something. We all need to do something." He stood up, looking determined. "We need to find out who did this. We need to make them pay."

" just as aech was complaining, dr.webber walked out and with him was two other doctors.

dr.webber looked at the group and said "i have some good news and some bad news. the good news is, we were able to stabilize her. the bad news is, we had to put her into a medically induced coma. the poison is too strong and we need to give her body time to fight it off"

"what's going to happen to her while she's in the coma?" asked Tom, his voice shaking.

"Well, she'll be hooked up to a ventilator to help her breathe, and we'll continue to monitor her vitals. We'll also administer antitoxins to help combat the poison. But it's still too early to tell how she's going to respond. We're going to keep her in intensive care for now, and we'll update you on her condition as we learn more," explained DR.Shepard the neuro-surgeon one of the other doctors .

" what about the her chest" asked aech "is she going to be okay?" "well, the bullet didn't hit any vital organs, so her heart should be fine. however, the poison has caused some damage to her lungs. we'll have to monitor that closely as well. there's a chance she may need a lung transplant down the road, but that's something we'll cross when we come to it," explained Dr.Burke the cardo- surgeon .

"thank god the bullet didn't hit anything else," Tom said, visibly relieved.

"Listen, we're going to do everything we can for Emily," Dr.Shepard assured the group. "She's in good hands here. But we're also going to need your help. You all need to stay positive and supportive. Keep the visitors to a minimum so she can rest. And most importantly, trust in the medical staff to do our jobs."

"I will," Tom said, nodding. "I'll be here for her, no matter what." He wiped a tear from his eye.

"So will I," Aech added. "And we'll find whoever did this, and we'll make them pay." He shot a determined look at the doctors.

Dizziness overcame Enzo as he realized the gravity of the situation. He sat down heavily in a chair, his head in his hands. "This is all my fault," he whispered. "I should've been there. I should've protected her. I should have told her not to join the army and instead i encourage her to join''. His voice broke, and tears welled up in his eyes.

Aech put a reassuring hand on Enzo's shoulder. "Hey, man, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known this would happen. We're all in this together now, and we're going to find out who did this and make them pay."

Dr.Webber nodded. "Yes, and in the meantime, I want you all to focus on Emily. Stay positive and supportive. Keep her in your thoughts and prayers. We'll do everything we can here."

The doctors left the room, giving the friends a moment to process the information. Enzo leaned back in his chair, still unable to meet Aech's eyes. "I don't know how I'm going to handle this," he whispered. "I feel so guilty."

"Hey, it's not your fault," Aech said, his voice soft. "We all make mistakes. We just have to focus on getting Emily through this and finding whoever did this to her."

" hey enzo, you are the person emily looks up to since dad passed away" charles said "if anyone can help her get through this, it's you. Just be there for her, okay?"

Enzo took a deep breath and nodded. "I'll do my best," he said, his voice still shaky. "I promise."

"Good, good," Charles said, his voice reassuring. "Now, let's go visit Emily. I'm sure she'd love to see some friendly faces."

" we should propnaly call mom first" said aurthur "she's gonna need to hear about this as well" . charles nodded and dialed the number.

their mother answered the phone with a shaky voice, her words choked with tears. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mom," Charles said gently. "It's me, Charles. Listen, emily is out of surgery and is in a medical coma"

Their mother let out a choked sob. "Oh, no," she whispered. "Is she going to be okay?"

Charles took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know, Mom. The doctors are doing everything they can. But we need to stay positive and supportive. Emily's going to need us now more than ever. do you want someone to come and get you?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Their mother was clearly struggling to keep it together. "Yes," she said finally. "I'll be there as soon as I can."

"All right, Mom," Charles said. "Take your time. We'll keep you updated. And we'll need your support too. We're all in this together."

"Thank you, Charles," their mother said, sniffling. "I'll be there as soon as I can." She paused for a moment, then added, "I love you, sweetie."

"I love you too, Mom," Charles replied gently. "Now, why don't you take a deep breath and try to calm down before you get here. Emily can feel your emotions, and we need to stay strong for her."

As their mother finished the call, they all stood up and headed toward Emily's room. The hallway was crowded with worried family members, all exchanging hushed whispers and tearful glances. It was a somber procession as they made their way down the hall, their footsteps echoing against the sterile white walls.

Finally, they reached Emily's room. everyone paused in the doorway, taking in the scene before them. Emily lay motionless in the bed, her face pale and peaceful, surrounded by a tangle of wires and medical equipment. The beeping of the monitors filled the air, creating a rhythmic, yet unsettling background noise.

Enzo stepped forward, his heart racing. He took Emily's hand in his, feeling the coldness of her skin against his own. "Hey, Em," he whispered, trying to sound reassuring. "We're all here. We're not going anywhere. just know your big brother is here"

Aurthur sat down gently in a chair next to the bed, his eyes never leaving Emily's face. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm his own racing thoughts. "Em, we love you so much," he said softly. "We're going to do everything we can to help you get through this. You're so strong, and we know you can fight this and i need my big sister to cover for me when i mess with enzo and charles"

Charles nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. He reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from Emily's forehead. "You're not alone, Em. We're all here for you, okay? And when you wake up, we're all going to have an amazing adventure together. Just you wait and see and i want you to meet your nephew Leo, whos a dog by the way"

As they sat with Emily, the hours seemed to drag on. The doctors and nurses came and went, each one bringing news both hopeful and dire. They tried to maintain a sense of normalcy, talking about school and work and their favorite movies, but the weight of Emily's condition hung over them like a dark cloud.

The room was bustling with activity, but for the seven of them, it might as well have been a lonely island. They were all so focused on Emily, their world had narrowed down to this tiny space. They shared glances, held hands, and whispered words of encouragement.

Time seemed to slow down as they waited, the beeping of the monitors filling the air. Every time a doctor or nurse came in, their hearts would leap into their throats, only to sink again when they heard the news was good.

Aurthur was the first to speak up. "Hey Em, do you remember that time we snuck out of the house and went to that amusement park?" He asked, trying to elicit a smile. "We had so much fun, and we got in so much trouble!"

Enzo nodded, his eyes filling with tears. "Yeah, I remember. It was like we were invincible. We could do anything, be anyone." He wiped away a tear, trying to maintain his composure. "We should've known that day we could conquer anything, because we did. We conquered our fears and we lived life to the fullest."

Aurthur smiled at his friend, then turned to Emily. "You know, Em, I think about that day a lot. It's funny how sometimes the smallest things in life can change us. I mean, that amusement park trip was just supposed to be a day off from summer school, but it ended up being so much more."

[gosecretscribbles]

Rise August Day 2: Karai

“– and I thought Raph was going to back down until Leo mentioned his teddy bear collection.”

Karai frowned slightly.  “He…collects bears?”

“Yeah!  Stuffed animals, you know –” Mikey scribbled in the air with his fingertip, etching the outline of a teddy bear.  The bright orange outline shimmered in the dark space of their shared ninpo.  “He used to have over two hundred, but the Shredder kind of destroyed most of them.  He’s up to twenty now.  Anyway, Leo threatened to portal them all into the Hudson if we followed him on patrol tonight.”

Karai sighed.  “How illogical.  Wasn’t he the most injured by the Krang?”

“Yeah, but…”  Mikey shrugged.  “I think that’s why he wants to patrol by himself.  He hated the crutches.  I think he wants to test his limits without worrying about us watching.  Well – me and Raph watching.  I think he forgot that Donnie records, like, everything.”

A sudden shimmer of teal sparked over Mikey’s orange form.  He grimaced. 

“Aw, man.  I think that’s Barry.  I told him we could do an extra mystics lesson tonight since we don’t have patrol.”

“Hmm.”  Karai shifted uneasily.  “Mystical forces can be deadly.  Do not let yourself grow overconfident, Michelangelo.”

“Not you, too!” he huffed.  “I get babied by everyone in the family.  But I’ve got just as much ninjocity as any of my brothers and three times the razzmatazz.  I know what I’m doing and I know when to stop – and when not to stop.”  He held out both hands.  They were still crisscrossed with faint scars, but here in the darkness, the scars glowed a molten yellow. 

Karai placed her hands over both of his.  “You do,” she said gently, warmly.  “And I have little doubt you will achieve mastery beyond any Hamato before you.  I simply do not wish you to master too much too quickly.  Those with great talent are often called upon to bear terrible burdens.”

Mikey’s eyes softened even as he flashed her a cheeky grin.  “Don’t worry, Uncle Ben, I promise I’ll go slow.  For now.  Spider-Angelo out!”

He squeezed her hands and vanished in a crackle of orange fireworks.

She sighed.  Ninpo mysticism could translate centuries-old Japanese and modern English, but not cultural references.  Or perhaps her progeny were also part-spider…?  With the way Michelangelo flung his chains, she wouldn’t be too surprised. 

She stood and stretched.  The dark space of the ninpo began to fade.  The space around her filled instead with a green landscape of rolling hills, forests, and rivers, an echo of the Japan she had been raised in.  The afterlife could take many forms.  When she had been released from her self-inflicted prison, her dead descendants had been charmed by her descriptions of the original Hamato village, and had recreated it here.  With modern additions.  Electricity was a marvelous invention, as was plumbing.  Even so, the rice paddies in the south had been set up according to ancient and well-proven agricultural science.  No one needed to eat, but there was something deeply soothing about growing a food so familiar to every generation of Hamato.  Her keen eyes picked out her father leading a few children through the paddies.  Telling them stories, likely as not, to teach them about their history.

She moved to join them.  Then Michelangelo’s words came back to her.  Leonardo was patrolling alone tonight. 

But no Hamato need ever be alone.

Karai closed her eyes and rekindled her ninpo.  She let her senses stretch once again into the dark space where their mystic energy touched across generations, across the very boundary between life and death.  It only took her a moment to find him.  When she opened her eyes, the space around her was dark once again.  Leonardo was in front of her, his own eyes closed, legs folded in a traditional seiza. 

She nearly spoke.  Then she recognized the look of concentration on his face.  He was frowning slightly.  His blue outline flickered and fuzzed like a sputtering fire.  Ah.  So he was attempting to activate his ninpo to visit her.  It was a good try, and he was very nearly present.  But, just in case…

It took a moment of intense concentration.  Then Karai stepped into the mortal world.

She was merely a ghost here, dissolved from the waist down into pale green smoke.  But she could see and hear well enough.  Leonardo’s blue ninpo outline was superimposed over his mortal body.  She looked around.  He was sitting on some kind of tall structure, square, with a rattling metal box at the opposite corner.  The city stretched out around them.  She walked the perimeter of the…rooftop?  Was it a roof?  It was very high.  A good vantage point, she decided, and easily defensible.  She would wake Leonardo if danger arose.  Until then, the nearby structures and the streets below were empty, save for a few stray cats.   She returned to her position in front of her many-great-grandson.

“Leonardo.”

“Gah!”

He jumped.  His outline vanished for a moment, and in the mortal world he nearly fell over.  He righted himself and reappeared immediately. 

“Gram-Gram!  I – uh, didn’t think that would work?”  He grinned widely.  “You look good!  No surprise there.  Good looks run in the family, am I right?”

She raised an eyebrow and sat down.  “I doubt you ran off on your brothers solely to compliment your own face.”

“I didn’t run off on – wait – Mikey told you?  That little snitch!  That’s it, his oil paints are going in the Atlantic, I swear to pizza supreme –” 

His outline winked out again.  His mortal form bent over, panting.  She waited calmly.  His ninpo reappeared a moment later, flickering more so than before.  He smiled crookedly. 

“Sorry, Gram-Gram.  Just debating how many turtles are going to live to see voting age.”

“Was your trip tonight that important?” Karai asked mildly.

“Uh, yeah!” He gestured grandly to the skyline.  “I wanted to admire the view.  New, improved, and Krang-free.  I don’t, uh.  Did Mikey tell you about the Krang?”

“He did,” she said quietly.  “I then realized the true identity of the oni who possessed my father."

“Whoa, whoa, time out!”  He made a T-shape with his hands.  “That suit was Krang tech?”

The pink face of the grinning oni swam in front of her mind.  She suppressed a shudder.  “Yes.  I regret that you inherited such a terrible enemy because I was not strong enough to stop him.”

He spread his arms, grinning.  “No worries, Gram-Gram!  Anatawa hitori ja nai.  You aren’t alone, either!  It took a whole generation of Hamato 2.0 to bring him down.  Plus a heroic sacrifice by yours truly!  But, uh –”  He leaned forward, like they were going to share a secret.  “From one prison dimension escapee to another, how do I, like, not do that next time?  There were like, zero facial products in there.  The Face Man slash Leader would like to keep these supple scales intact!”

She searched his eyes.  “Leonardo,” she said slowly, “why do you think there will be a next time?”

“I don’t!  Krang Prime is not getting out.  Soon as my power’s back, I’m going to drop the key into the sun.  But if I’d handled the key in the first place –”  He seemed to catch himself and consciously relaxed, leaning back on one hand and twirling the other in the air.  “I’m just saying, I’d rather avoid the whole sacrifice play.  I don’t want my brothers thinking it’s their turn next if I can’t ‘Fearless Leader’ the problem away.”

“Sacrifices are sometimes inevitable,” she said slowly.  “But a good leader makes that choice wisely.  All actions necessitate a trade.  If you choose to strike, you choose not to defend.  Even doing nothing is a choice, if the cost to act is too great.  The best choices use the strengths and weaknesses of yourself and your team to minimize risk and maximize effect.”

Leonardo’s casual posture hadn’t changed, but his eyes were now steady and focused.  Even his ninpo was shining more clearly.  It made him look older.  She could see the leader he would become written in his gaze.  

She also saw the mark of the prison dimension.  Her own soul bore it, too.  Intense isolation, however brief, reshaped them into creatures of solitude, until it was both natural and inevitable for them to isolate themselves still further.  After all, her she sat, high on a hill and far from her newly established village.

“Good leaders,” she continued gently, “also stay connected with their family.  Breaking bread and sharing stories keep you attuned to their needs.  What do your brothers need, Leonardo?”

He tilted his head, thinking.  Then his face lit up.

“Pizza!”

She threw back her head and laughed.

“What?  They do!” he protested.  “It’ll suck Raph out of the gym and Donnie out of the lab.  I’ll even get a bunch of toppings on the side so Mikey can assemble each slice of pizza differently.  Then we’ll turtle pile in the living room to sleep it off.”

“It sounds wonderful,” she said warmly, wiping her eyes.  “Very well.  Enjoy your meal, grandson.  I had better help my father with the children.”

Leonardo grimaced.  “There’s dead Hamato kids?  That’s messed up.”

“The Krang are merciless in every iteration. Many of them passed at the hands of that cursed suit.  But they will have full lives here, free from further tragedy.”

“Here’s hoping the same for us.  Um.”  He leaned forward suddenly and wrapped his arms around her.  She froze.  She couldn’t really feel him, but she felt his arms, their ninpos buzzing pleasantly against each other.  “Love you, Gram-Gram!”

He vanished with a bright blue pop.  She exhaled sharply, releasing her mystical hold on both the mortal world and the shared ninpo space.  It had left her more exhausted than she expected.  She sat for a moment, breathing the sweetness of the clear mountain air, the warmth of the sunlight.  It wasn’t quite the same as the mortal world.  But it was grounding nonetheless. 

Well.  Time to take her own advice. 

She stood and began making her way down the hill toward the paddies.  Her father was acting out a story that involved great splashing, to the delight of the dozen or so children now gathered around him.  One of them saw her coming and waved.

“Obaasan!” she cried.  “Jiisan says you were talking to the kappa!  Do we have kappa brothers?  Can they swim with us?”

“One day,” she said.  “Would you like to hear more about them?”

“Yeah!”

She smiled and went to join them.  

[imagitory]

@andrewmoocow Personally I find them to be misguided. There is a very well-done analysis video I've cited before that talks about the animation and why it ends up looking like AI, and I think it really addresses this argument better than I could --

-- but TL;DR, the animation looks "fake" largely because of stylistic decisions (l.e. turning off motion blur with the thought it would look "more like 2D") that weren't well thought-out. And I actually think the film's writing issues run into the same problem.

Because here's the thing -- writing high fantasy is not as easy as it looks. I can testify to this because I myself am writing a draft for a high fantasy novel right now.

All these years, Disney has been in an advantageous position with their animated films largely being adaptations of previous works, since they're already given a lot of the parameters a writer needs to build a world, plot, and characters. In a Snow White adaptation, for instance, you need a vain queen, an innocent princess, a prince, seven dwarfs, a magic mirror, and a poisoned apple, as well as a fairy tale world where these things fit comfortably. And since so much mainstream fantasy is largely inspired by medieval Europe, that aesthetic remains very familiar with audiences to the point that you need a lot less explanation for things. We don't really need an explanation for the political landscape of Cinderella because we see "fairy tale kingdom" and immediately know it's an absolute monarchy led by generally amiable rulers. We're not surprised when fairies appear in Sleeping Beauty, or when a magical sword predicts who should be king in The Sword in the Stone, or when Tiana and Naveen are turned into frogs in The Princess and the Frog, or when trolls appear in Frozen -- all of these magical conventions fit within the usual fantasy aesthetic and really don't need any explanation or backstory. I'd hazard to say that most people -- aside from those nitpicky critic types who get all hung up on how many servants are in Beast's castle just because they saw a bunch of extra silverware in the Be Our Guest sequence -- just don't bother questioning these things. And the original material also gives some shape and form to the adaptation's story, characters, and overall feel. It doesn't matter how close the finished product matches the original idea or even how familiar the audience is with that original material -- it still provides a jump-off point and sense of focus for the writer(s), the same way fanfiction (even an AU fanfic) can, in contrast to original content.

All right, well, what about those Disney projects that aren't fantasy? Well, in the case of stories like Treasure Planet, Robin Hood, and Mulan, they're still based off preexisting properties that people will find familiar enough that the writers can focus more on the adaptation's unique additions and not focus on detailed backstories and explanations about how the world and societies depicted in the story work. It's a lot easier to just focus on the fantastical elements like the space tech, talking animals, or Mushu and the ancestors if the rest of the story and cast are relatively easy to understand. Even in the case of original stories like The Lion King (which admittedly was largely inspired by Shakespeare's Hamlet, but I digress), Lilo and Stitch, and Lady and the Tramp, they still exist in a non-magical world that closely resembles ours, with only superficial changes like animals being able to talk or the existence of aliens. Even quasi-historical settings like The Great Mouse Detective and Atlantis: The Lost Empire look enough like our real-world equivalent that their settings are largely recognizable to us.

In just about all Disney animated films, the screenwriters didn't have to world-build that much. They didn't have to put the character development and plot on hold to explain the rules of the universe these stories take place in that often -- not unlike how writers like Rick Riordan didn't have to explain as much about the country his hero Percy Jackson lives in, because his books are an urban fantasy where our real world is just "plused up" with magical elements. We don't need to know if gravity works on the story's characters the way it does for us. We don't need to be told about the political landscape, history, or terrain of our location. We don't need to ask whether dying is something our characters can come back from.

Wish, on the other hand, is an original story in a high fantasy setting that doesn't resemble our world. People might try to claim it takes place in the Iberian Peninsula, but come on -- Rosas is a completely fictional country in a world that has magic we don't know the rules of and countries that faintly resemble cultures from our world, but we don't know the histories of or how similar they actually are to their real-world inspiration. We also have a cast of characters we've never met in any other media and a story and messages that we know nothing about beforehand. This means that we have no preexisting framework going in for what's possible and impossible in this world; no frame of reference about who these characters are and what their histories are; and no parameters that the plot, characters, and themes must fit inside, whether based on the fantastical story being adapted or a real-world setting that's a lot like ours. And I don't think that Disney really thought through just how challenging it can sometimes be to tell this kind of a story without stuffing the script with a lot of "tell" and not "show," which, as just about any film person can tell you, is the exact opposite of what you generally want. In film scripts, you want to show your audience a lot more than you tell them -- this not only takes full advantage of the visual medium and communicates your point in a much more natural and artistic way, but it also lets your audience think for itself and come to its own conclusions.

Now of course, can you write a high fantasy original story that's easy to follow and evokes a lot of emotion in your audience? Of course! But it does take time and a lot of careful and creative world-building. J.R.R. Tolkien was the king of such things. George R. R. Martin has done it. Neil Gaiman has done it. Ursula K. Le Guin has done it. Even the writer of the Nimona graphic novel, ND Stevenson, did a good job of it! But I think it's quite clear that Wish's script was not in the works that long -- development of the original idea started back in 2018, yes, but it wasn't until January 2022 that it was announced Jennifer Lee was writing it and Julia Michaels was brought on to write the songs, so the film's current trajectory likely wasn't pinpointed until then. And if the film was released in November 2023, then that means Wish's script was finished in under two years. Although there are successful Disney scripts that I daresay needed only that much time (Frozen, for instance, was quite rushed, by all accounts), once again, those scripts were done for stories with some sort of preexisting framework that allowed the writers to skip explaining certain visual or contextual short-hand in favor of focusing on their own creative flourishes in character and story. They were written with a tighter focus on the plot and its players without the need to build a complete stage under them.

The reason some people want to cry "AI!" when they look at Wish's writing is that they're looking at a script that makes the rookie writing mistake of exposition-dumping in an attempt to make its audience care, rather than evoking emotion. That kind of exposition-dumping is something that most novelists usually have to trim and rewrite in future drafts of their work: it's a mistake done while the writer is trying to world-build enough that their audience understands all of these original rules, societies, locations, and characters they're not familiar with. This exposition is then often trimmed down before publishing, and when adapted for the screen it's often trimmed even further or even completely rewritten, in favor of more visual methods of conveying the same information. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz writes about Dorothy traveling down the Yellow Brick Road and about the long journey that takes her and her friends through a lot of side adventures on their way to the Emerald City: it's the famous film adaptation that cuts out the Kalidahs and puts the whole trip to jaunty music for the characters to sing and dance to. Wish could've communicated to us the importance of the wishes to their owners through more visual means, but instead feels the need to reiterate this idea over and over through written dialogue. And again, this is a common mistake by writers when they're inexperienced in creating completely original content, as opposed to spin-offs, sequels, or adaptations of other people's work.

AI writing is generally known for repetitive phrasing and sentence structure, lack of accuracy, and lack of a personal touch. As much as I'll agree that there are a lot of character and world-building choices in Wish that don't make sense, I don't think that's the same thing. There clearly was a story someone (or multiple people) wanted to tell about a person hoarding the precious ideas of other people away, even if it means those ideas can never be shared with the world -- it just wasn't a story that ended up being told that well. And I think this is why Wish is almost worth seeing -- it serves as a good example of why certain writing decisions work better than others and how writing for fantasy projects and/or "family entertainment" is an art form that's worthy of respect when it's done right.

To sum up my stance on the matter -- I think Disney just bit off way more than it could chew and then didn't give its writers enough time to properly digest it.

[astralexpressarchives]

Dan Heng, the Imaginary, and the Lunarescent Depths

So I was recently discussing lore with a friend of mine and we came to a very interesting conclusion about Dan Heng that just makes a little too much sense for me to not make post about.

Dan Heng is an artist who uses the blood of Long to paint imaginary realms into existence and also Long is probably an Imaginary Aeon

Okay hear me out.

So everybody has the 4 star version of Dan Heng on their account. Everybody would have seen his ultimate ability and should be quite familiar with his line:

This sanctuary, is but a vision... Break!

The animation begins with a zoom in on his sphere - very likely the same sphere he uses in his Dan Heng: Imbibitor Lunae form for his spells. He closes his eyes.

Now, the camera zooms out quickly so that we can see the sanctuary that is but a vision.

Then he attacks the enemy, his weapon trailing black splatters of...

Ink!

Alright, now let me back it up a bit for a brief intermission and introduce you to the Judges of the 10 Lords Commission. The Undestroyed Notes makes this statement about the Judges:

A sister among the disciples once described to me one of the judge's brushes — it could write talismans out of thin air, which would make the written words come true.

Of course, we now know this is likely a reference to Hanya as her recent promo material shows her using a magic brush:

She specializes in reading the karma and sins of criminals, and records their crimes and punishments with the Oracle Brush.

It's unclear is this Oracle Brush is in fact the brush that can write things out of thin air, but it's worth noting regardless.

The point is that there is precedence in HSR for characters using brushes/painting/writing to make things real.

Back to Dan Heng, though. It doesn't stop at his 4 star variation, either. Dan Heng: Imbibitor Lunae's ultimate is a very similar story.

A zoom in towards his sphere, his eyes are closed - this time, the (drawn!) clouds are circling him.

Then a scene where the entire thing looks painted! But it doesn't stop there.

Dan Heng and Blade

Now, as with any analysis of Dan Heng, it's basically impossible to make one without also mentioning Blade since Hoyo is obsessed with them:

Blade's sword graveyard (the Hellscape, as he calls it) is very similar to Dan Heng's heavenly moon realm. I believe this is because these locations are mirror images of each other - that is to say, the mountainous area is a real location and one or both of their ultimates are mirror/s of this location.

Also note that he also accesses this location by "slicing" it out of thin air with his Blade.

Also note the drawn aesthetic of the spiderlilies, I think this is implying they are in another realm - same as when he is in his ult and the spiderlilies are projected on his attack! In that same scene, if you look very closely you can spot some lotus the water (extra credit to my friend for spotting this one!)

The realm keeping commission has this image of a dragon's face over the moon between two sets of mountains, one set is upside down mirroring the other set.

A few more examples of Dan Heng and Blade as mirrors:

Blade in the reflection of the water. Note the presence of the moon and leaves surrounding Dan Heng vs the Arbor roots surrounding Blade.

We also know the arbor roots are a real location because we fight Phantylia there beneath the Scalegorge:

The Azure Dragon enters through a circular cloud formation and arrives at the mountainous location on the Xianzhou.

Blade in his fansong shown at the circular clouds swapping identities of Blade vs Yingxing (this happens when he is "marastruck" as seen in his trailer). In his fansong, the clouds lead to the red moon.

This is important because Blade is the creator of Cloudpiercer - the weapon attached to the orb Dan Heng uses to paint his imaginary landscapes - and Blade also created the sword he uses that cuts open the portal to the hellscape. It's unclear if the connection is the weapons or something else, like Dragonheart theory would would mean Blade's blood contains Long's blood which could be the triggering tool.

Anyway, we know these mountains are a real location because Dan Feng was imprisoned there. I believe this location is the Lunarescent Depths Delve below the Scalegorge:

We also know there is a moon present at Blade's Hellscape:

Keep in mind that this splashart features the moon (piercing through the clouds, very subtle Hoyo), destroyed arbor roots, the sword graveyard, and the spiderlilies. Now compare these images:

This is the same area before and during/after the sedition. Note the arbor roots that were present in the reflection of Blade, the water, the chains, the moon (eclipsed, too) that he is drinking the power of...

To drive the point home even further, here's Blade seated during Kafka's companion quest, courtesy of my friend:

Doesn't that painting look... familiar??? Other than in this location, the painting only shows up in two other locations on the Xianzhou one of which is the Realm-Keeping Commission office (which is literally covered in Vidyadhara mountain references - seriously go check it out for yourself).

Hoyo is definitely hinting at something with this set up, lol.

Genshin

It's hard to talk about a Hoyo game without mentioning Genshin Impact. Honestly, a lot of the Vidyadhara story mirrors the story in Genshin, especially Fontaine, for example:

Special water, potentially people made of water

Water dragon making rain in idle animation

Small female child contained by local scientists might have the soul of a god or could be a scam

And more... but the point is people who play Genshin might be familiar with the story of the melusines who were created with the blood of a dead dragon and they live inside it's corpse and also one of them is a painter using the blood of said dead dragon and also fiction is real and they can enter it in an imaginary space?

Yeah... I think they might have copied that idea and applied it to Dan Heng, allowing him to paint using the special water (probably the Blood of Long) and allowing him to create imaginary spaces. "This sanctuary is but a vision" a vision he literally painted!

I swear I'm not crazy.

Long the Permanence

Now here's an additional theory I have about Long the Permanence.

Long could be an Aeon that exists within the Imaginary space.

By this I mean the reason noone has met him or knows where he is or what happened to him is because he's always been imaginary. His scions exist in the primary reality, of course, but Dan Heng's power comes from the Imaginary element in his Imbibitor Lunae form.

This is further supported by the fact that the moon in reality (outside of the mountain scenery) only shows up briefly at key moments for corresponding characters.

It shows up briefly in Fu Xuan's trailer when she recites lines from a poem about the moon but otherwise is absent. Note how she has Long's constellations on the back of her outfit and dragon heads on her tools.

Jingliu's power is also moon based and you also see the moon in the reflection of her ice/nearby water. The reflection of the moon is actually the real power behind her attacks and the moon that appears behind her is a mirage projected from the reflection (not the other way around!). And in the recent Jingliu Myriad you can tell at the start that the moon only just appeared because the moon flowers are only just blooming! IRL these flowers only bloom at night time, presumably in the moonlight, so the fact that they only just opened implies the moon was not present earlier in the scene. This is the same flower eternally bloomed on her shoulder.

Also note how both scenes where she is drawing upon the moon's power also becomes drawn in an inky art style! Just like Dan Heng.

I might stop here because this post is already very long but I might do a whole post dedicated to dissecting Jingliu's lore and symbolism in greater depth, especially as more Jingliu content is released over the coming days.

[ectoplasmic-entity]

I saw your post about Dan fic requests.

Hmm... what about... Can you write a ficlet in which Dan gets amnesia?

I'm more used to writing longer stories, to be honest. This one required some extra thought on how to keep it short without bloating it. I think keeping some details vague helped a lot.

Who knows how an amnesiac Dan would behave or do?

I gave'er a whack. But you tell me what you think (>ᴗ•)

Genre: Gen

Rating: Teen

Content Warnings: N/A

Words: 500+

She only meant to shoot him in the shoulder. Allegedly.

---

It burns. It burns.

Dan inhaled deeply, his body shuddered violently as he did so. It panged with a burning ache that ate away at him. He was aware he was stuck… somewhere. Dan leaned forward to get his bearings, only to fling himself back into place once his head began to spin.

A pounding throbbed throughout his skull.

Focus. He needed to focus.

Dan’s head fell back, rough and rugged material dug into him. Another, shakier breath. Broken, cragged shapes amassed around him. Twisted and spiraling.

He tried to close his eyes. Wait for the chaos to fade, for his body to be sturdy enough to get up without falling over. Dan grimaced, his fingers dug into the hard material that surrounded him. A piercing pain stabbed through his head, a faint ringing took over his train of thought.

Dan groaned softly. Smoldering pain surged down the side of his body. The ringing pain ran to the forefront of his mind, clouding any coherence he had left.

Out. He needed to get out. Away from… his thoughts. Too muddled, barely strung together. Missing.

Dan heaved himself out of his spot, his body hunched over. His arm dangled awkwardly with a bright green liquid gushing down. A concurrent of agony and numbness weighed him down, a sickening warmth sunk into him. Sweat disgustingly stuck to his face.

Slowly, Dan began to walk forwards. His hand held his shoulder as to not aggravate it with his motions. His feet shuffled along the dusty ground, kicking up small clouds. He was faintly aware of the green liquid dripping off of his hand. He could… smell it.

A dull light streaked above him, highlighting the silhouettes of huge… piles of debris? His muddled mind struggled to find a thought, a blank, static image played out before his eyes. Something… important. Dan had no idea what it was.

It was the same everywhere he looked. A flattened landscape that was ‘here’, there was no ‘where’ as far as Dan could see. Nothing of familiarity came to mind. He had apparently been buried within the wreckage. Quiet, sturdy breaths blew out of his mouth. Discomfort dug into him.

His head throbbed the more he tried to think about it. Seemingly reprimanding him for thinking about it too much.

A hot flash lit up his insides. Dan grunted in effort to swallow down the sick feeling, his limbs wavered. Through the cloudiness and the sweat, he managed to ease his form against a sturdy structure, and leaned back in relief. Warm breaths of relief escaped him, never mind his injured shoulder that ached in retaliation. The ache pulsed through him, it almost brought Dan to a lull.

Dan wasn’t sure how long he spent in that position. Exhausted to the point of sickness, finding relief hiding in the ruins. Hiding like some…

Animal.

The word stuck out to him. It… did seem to apply to him, in a way.

Dan closed his eyes to rest his mind a bit. His eyes were sore from trying to take everything in, make sense of where he was. His head continued to pound, albeit more dully.

Before he knew it, he sensed… someone in front of him. A wariness that set him on edge. His eyes snapped open.

An unfamiliar woman stood before him, decked out in a red suit. He didn’t see much else, the details blurred together.

Dull red eyes stared in confusion.

Dan found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

[librarycards]

hi friend! i have had a dream of creating a publication of some kind that uplifts artists/writers in my area. i have been so lost at what i want to or should be doing, so i think this might be a good time to strike!! i'm reaching out to the student magazines at local colleges to see if they have any advice, but i wanted to see if you had any advice to offer as someone who might not have had something so significant (like a school) backing you and your litmag! Thank you so much for everything!!

hello anon, and thanks for your patience!! [full disclosure this was completed last week but in my drafts im sorry!!]

the first piece i have is to read: read mags that print a variety of types of work, those that are established and upstarts and everyone in between. this isn't only to get a sense of what the literary landscape is like rn, but also to find patterns: what do these sites have in common? how about their submission guidelines, norms, expectations?

^ in regard to the above, i also *strongly* recommend you submit and go through the publication process in at least a few mags before starting your own. maybe you have already! in any case, think about what kinds of editorial support/communication/practice you've liked and disliked. what kind of editor are you/do you want to be? if you're not sure yet, consider joining the reading team at a magazine, or editing a folio or guest issue! going from no experience to EIC is not a great plan, in no small part because you learn who and what you are as an editor, and who and what you want to edit, as you gain more experience. joining an established publication in some capacity is something i recommend to *everyone* interested in starting a lit mag. that is, i do not recommend attempting to start a publication if you have no experience on a masthead already.

presuming that you do have this experience, you're going to have some new considerations for your new publication in addition to those you're familiar with:

probably-familiar things to consider:

who is my demographic (do I have any restrictions on who submits?)

what are my values? (this is what you put in your about/mission statement/submission guidelines. for example, I don't submit to magazines who do not make their antizionism/pro-palestine stance clear)

who are my coworkers (do I want to run this thing on my own, or get multiple editors on with me? do I want to just make a quick squarespace site or have a designer onboard?)

what genres, lengths, and other specifications do I want for submissions (docx vs pdf vs rtf? how much do you actually have time to read? what do you feel confident in your ability to assess?)

where can people find us? (social media? twitter/x is still a home base for a huge portion of publications, despite everything. ig has a fair few. tumblr hasn't been very successful in lit mag world - but maybe you'll change that? there's a fair but niche showing on bsky and mastodon. facebook, as with everything else, is for boomers with shit politics.)

probably-unfamiliar things to consider:

what's your title? is a domain available for that title? how are you paying for the domain?

how about website hosting? (squarespace, weebly, google sites, wordpress, something else? is your site accessible? do you need to make extra access considerations, e.g. if publishing visual art?)

do you pay? how much? (without institutional backing, the money will either come from your pocket or donations, or both. if you want to pay but are broke, you could set up a fundraiser - but no promises on people following through.)

what submissions platform will you use? (email? manywor(l)ds does this, and we like it. submittable? pricy, but streamlined. moksha/oleda/duotrope? i mean....you do you but i find them weird)

how often will you be open for submissions? will you solicit any, or be all-slush? (I take a 90/10 approach in favor of slush, personally. slushpile 4 lyfe xoxo)

do you charge fees? (hint: DON'T)

where are you listed? (chillsubs, duotrope, the submission grinder, and other sites aggregate lit mag opportunities. you should get yourself here!)

how often do you want to publish? how many pieces per issue? (consider how much time you actually have. this is all unpaid work, too.)

(if you have an editorial staff beyond yourself) how often are you meeting? how are decisions being made? how are you handling conflicts of interest?

there are also things that become relevant as you begin your mag: like, keeping track of published pieces eligible/nominated for prizes, making editorial friends/comrades (CRUCIAL), managing harassment and spam in the submission process, and other issues you'll encounter just in the daily practice of operating a magazine. remember, more than anything, that you're part of a community - or more accurately, an archipelago of communities and subcultures. this is why participation is so important, and imo necessary, as a pre- and continuous co-requisite to 'having' a lit mag. you're there to fill a niche, not pick out and publish All the Good Writing Ever. This will help you let go of great pieces that 'don't quite work' or just 'aren't a fit' (editors are serious when we say we reject a fuckton of amazing pieces every issue) and let go of submissions you yourself receive rejections for.

anyway, i hope this helps give you a few places to start. in short, focus on community, reciprocity, and building slow&steady experience and expertise (as well as your own editorial styles/techniques) vs. launching into developing your own thing right away!

[potioncreative]

Direct dealing with the owners of Graphic Design Companies In Sydney

Dealing directly with the owners of a graphic design companies in Sydney cannot be overstated, more so in an urban environment like Sydney where competition is stiff and businesses are constantly seeking to pull ahead of their competitors. At Potion Creative, we place absolute confidence in all that there is true merit in dealing directly with the owners to answer your design needs with high quality and attention to details.

1. Direct Involvement and Commitment

So, when you are dealing directly with the owner you are dealing with someone who's got a vested interest in your project's success. Owners are not only interested in quality work; they're also interested in long-term relationships. Owners are directly involved in every project at Potion Creative, so you can be sure the creative direction you're provided with aligns to your business goals and solutions are being created specifically for your brand.

2. Streamline communication with a fast turnaround

Direct contact to the owner bypasses the middleman's negotiating process, thereby reducing any possibility of miscommunication or delay. This automatically means faster responses, speedy approval, and all-around efficiency in workflow. In Potion Creative, owners assure that every client's voice is heard and decisions can be made promptly without waiting for multi-layered approval processes.

3. Customized Expertise for Unique Needs

Typically, the owners of the graphic design companies have a lot of experience and know many different businesses. This enables them to give you some expert advice on how to bring some innovative solutions to your table, that often comes from years of hands-on experience. With Potion Creative, you get direct benefit from knowledge of all aspects of the design landscape and the ability of the owners to translate your vision into impactful, creative work resonating to your target audience.

4. Cost-Effectiveness without extra charge fees

Since these are big agencies, much of the overhead cost is passed on to the client. You're very transparent in terms of what's happening and what you're paying for; you really don't get unnecessary fees. At Potion Creative, we believe in providing cost-effective solutions without compromising on quality. Our pricing is also transparent, and since you are dealing directly with decision-makers, we can also customize flexible packages that suit your budget.

5. Long-Term Engagement and Business Growth

Depending on the owner to collaborate, he will likely form a much closer work relationship with you. That can create a greater sense of familiarity with your brand over time, consistent designs in the work, and a partnership that grows with your business. The owners at Potion Creative are strongly interested in collaborating closely with a client to meet immediate needs but also to continue to help them grow their brand presence as the business evolves. Owners of Potion Creative in Sydney promise direct lines of communication, personalized service, and access to a wealth of experience in dealing directly with the owners of a graphic design company. Whether launching a new brand or refreshing marketing materials, it helps ensure that your project is in the best hands from start to finish. For more information on how our ideas can help you realize your brand vision, please visit Potion Creative.

[cluelessteam]

Ethereal Bonds: {~A Bittersweet Farewell~}

Summary: Y/N is transported into the show's world, joining forces with the Winchesters to face a cosmic threat. Together, they navigate interdimensional challenges, decipher prophecies, and confront an entity aiming to merge realities. The fanfic explores the blurring of fiction and reality, emphasizing the enduring bonds formed amidst the supernatural chaos.

Characters: Sam & Dean

Pairing: No Pairing

Warnings: No Warnings

Word Count: 563

Masterlist

The transformed town, bathed in an otherworldly glow, stood as a testament to the cosmic struggles that had unfolded. Y/N, Sam, and Dean walked the streets, the air still tinged with residual energy from the convergence. The entity's ominous words lingered in the atmosphere, a reminder that the cosmic dance had left an indelible mark on their lives.

"So, what's next?" Y/N asked, the weight of the amulet in their hand a constant reminder of the extraordinary journey they had undertaken.

Dean shrugged, his eyes scanning the altered landscape. "Business as usual, I guess. Saving people, hunting things. Just another day in the life."

Sam chimed in, "But now, we have an extra hand. If there's one thing we've learned, it's that facing the unknown is easier when you've got someone by your side."

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of camaraderie that transcended the boundaries of dimensions. "I never imagined I'd be a part of all this. It's like living inside my favorite TV show."

Dean chuckled, clapping Y/N on the shoulder. "Well, welcome to the Winchester family. We've had our fair share of weird, but hey, it keeps things interesting."

As they strolled through the transformed town, the trio encountered curious glances from the residents who, though unaware of the cosmic struggles, sensed the lingering supernatural energy. The Winchester brothers, accustomed to such odd occurrences, navigated the attention with practiced ease.

"So, what about the amulet?" Sam asked, eyeing the ancient artifact that had been the key to their journey.

Y/N hesitated, a mix of emotions swirling within. "I think I'll keep it. A souvenir from my time in the supernatural realms. Besides, who knows when I might need to hop back into action."

Dean grinned, appreciating the sentiment. "A hunter's gotta have their lucky charm. Just don't go opening any more portals without a heads-up, alright?"

The banter continued as they made their way to the Impala, parked in a spot that seemed both familiar and altered. As they prepared to hit the road, the transformed town fading in the rearview mirror, Y/N couldn't help but reflect on the incredible journey.

"So, what's the plan now?" Y/N asked, their eyes meeting the Winchesters'.

Dean shrugged, "We'll keep hunting, keep fighting. And who knows, maybe we'll stumble upon another cosmic mystery that needs unraveling."

Sam added, "And if you ever decide you want to go back home, we'll figure it out together. We owe you that much."

The road stretched ahead, an endless expanse of uncertainty and adventure. Y/N settled into the backseat of the Impala, the familiar creak of the leather seats providing a sense of comfort.

As the engine roared to life, Y/N looked out at the night, the stars twinkling above. The lines between fiction and reality had blurred, leaving behind a tapestry of memories that would forever weave their story into the fabric of the supernatural.

And as they drove into the unknown, Y/N couldn't help but feel a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and anticipation. The cosmic dance may have left its mark, but the journey had only just begun.

For in the world of the supernatural, where reality and fiction converged, the only certainty was the enduring bond between hunters, forged across dimensions, and the endless possibilities that awaited them in the vast expanse of the unknown.

[reversedpsync]

Challenger's path drabble word count: 1166

“So this thing is like a maze, right?” Tama looked around at the challenger event that they’d settled on, her spiramon resting on her shoulder. “Are you ready for it, Ryuki? Might be tough, and I’d rather not have to dote on you if you start crying like a baby~”

“Would you be serious for once?” Rolling his eyes, Ryuki let out a sigh. He should’ve known better than to expect Tama could get through this without making some sort of dig at him, but he’d still thought it was possible. His partner just enjoyed teasing him too much to let it go. “We’ve only got two hours, so we’ll need to make it count.”

“Hmpf. You’re no fun sometimes.” She stretched out her arms, letting her spiramon float away from her and returning to Ryuki’s AI-Ball. It was a strange thing that she could be physical in this place, but neither of them were complaining- though in cases like this, it was certainly more convenient for them to work as a team with her in his eye socket. They were more used to that anyways. “Alright, I’m ready to go. How about you?”

“Ready. Let’s get started then.”

As he stepped forward into the maze, his and Tama’s spiramon quickly disappeared as the landscape shifted around them. A booming voice signalled the start of the challenge, and Ryuki took off running.

‘Tama, X-Ray mode.’

“On it.”

Even with the overlay in his vision, it wasn’t helping too much. They at least could better tell where the dead ends were, but that was about it… with a sigh he asked her to turn it off, slowing down slightly to look more closely at the walls surrounding them. There wasn’t much to them either- just blank walls.

“Well, we should keep heading roughly north if we want to reach the center. From there, it’ll be easier to meet up with them if they aren’t there already.”

“I guess that makes sense, huh?” Nodding his head, Ryuki followed Tama’s directions. “Do you… know where we’re going, or something?”

“Well, not exactly. But I can tell which way is north, and calculate out a most likely ‘center’ based on where we entered from.” She’d projected her hologram into his vision, strolling along beside him as they explored the maze. “So you’d better thank me, considering I’m doing all the hard work here!”

“Thank you, oh lady Tama.” He offered a mock bow, enough to hide the wry grin on his face. “It’s weird though… I feel like things are looking… different?”

“Huh… you’re right, actually.”

The hallways had slowly changed altogether, now resembling something like rough concrete, rather than the smooth walls there’d been before. The floor under his feet had become a bit bumpier as well, but that wasn’t the most interesting part. The walls seemed more decorated now, bits and pieces of rough drawings reminding him of days gone by at home.

“What’s this supposed to mean…?”

He shook his head, continuing to walk forward. There wasn’t too much point in dwelling on anything right now- it would only distract him, when they were here for a reason. He wanted to complete this task, and they didn’t have that much time.

“Oh Ryuki, that one looks extra familiar!” Tama’s hologram pointed to a drawing that looked a lot like Boss’s office, Ryuki and Date each holding a cup of coffee. A small smile made its way onto Ryuki’s face at the memory. “Feeling nostalgic, hmm~”

“Mr. Date always knows what to say. He’d probably know exactly where to go, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re vastly overestimating him, as always.” She giggled, a sly grin on her face. “That old pervert wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Shaking his head, Ryuki continued onwards through the maze. He stopped at a split path, pausing for a moment- then turned a sharp left, a strange feeling in his chest urging him that direction.

“Why are you headed that way, Ryuki?”

“It just… feels like this is the right path.” He knew acting on a gut feeling was hardly reliable in the long term, but it felt like this would take them closer to their spiramon. And Tama wasn’t teasing him about it this time, quiet and thoughtful while he walked onward. “Yeah, I definitely think we’re getting closer.”

“Actually, I think you’re right. It’s hard to tell, but I think I just saw a flash of them in x-ray mode?”

That was enough to motivate Ryuki to start running again, pressing onward through the maze. Tama’s instructions and his gut feelings were in sync, getting them closer and closer to the center, all the while his eyes lingering on the changing shapes of the walls, and the strange drawings along them that kept reminding him of home.

This place was strange, that much was certain. He’d try not to dwell on it too much- not when so many of them seemed to serve as reminders for his own mistakes, happy memories tied up with memories of failure.

“Ryuki, over there! I just got a thermal signature!”

He made a sharp turn at Tama’s insistence, speeding up at the sight of dark fur and a strange jelly tendril. The maze was shifting again, about to pull them further apart once more, and he wasn’t going to let it. He threw himself forward in a dive, rolling to a stop in front of their spiramon- the both of whom immediately tackled him onto his back, cuddling up as close as they could.

“H-Hey, easy there! Easy!”

“Aww, you’re so good with pets, Ryuki!” Tama had returned to her physical form, squatting down beside him. Her own spiramon was still on Ryuki, its jelly tendrils wrapped around his arm in some sort of hug while Yomi had gotten plenty comfortable on his chest. “You look pretty comfortable.”

“Well, I’m not.” He rolled his eyes as a congratulatory sound rang out, signalling the end of the challenge. They’d done better than he’d expected- they hadn’t taken the entire time, at the very least. “Could you help me get up?”

“Okay, okay. Jelli, let him go, alright?”

Her spiramon floated over to her shoulder, and gave Ryuki a proper chance to push Yomi to the side. Back on his feet, he stretched out his arms.

“That was a good warmup. I feel like I could go a little longer, honestly.”

“Then find something else to do, you adrenaline junkie.” She snickered, flicking his forehead. “Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past you to throw yourself into that hole.”

“Well, actually…”

“Oh. My. God. And you call yourself responsible? You’ve got no impulse control without me!” She was fully laughing now, almost doubled over on herself. “But that’s why I’m here- to keep you out of trouble!”

“Yeah, yeah… are you sure you don’t cause more trouble?”

“Nope. You should show me more respect.”

He just groaned, but it wasn’t enough to hide the smile from his face.

[nateleecocks]

Finding Stunning Art Photography to Buy From Dubai's Top Interior Design Photographers

When you're decorating your home or office, it's essential to have stunning photography to set the tone and create unique visual appeal. Fortunately, with Dubai's top interior design photographers at your disposal, you're able to find beautiful art photography that brings a sense of depth and texture to any room.

The right photography can energize a space, help foster creativity and engagement, and add interesting elements that tie the entire look together. Whether you're looking for something large and grandiose or small but eye-catching, this article will give you some great tips on where to find the perfect art photography to buy in Dubai. From freelance photographers to renowned design photographers, we'll provide all the information necessary for finding one-of-a-kind pieces that fit your style and budget.

Why Buy Photography Prints From a Professional Interior Design Photographer?

Are you searching for art photography to buy from Dubai's top interior design photographers? Whether it's for your home, office or another professional space, the photographs you choose can add so much personality and style to the atmosphere. But where do you start?

Buying prints from a professional interior design photographer is the perfect starting point. With years of experience working in both media and photography, they’ll be able to guide you towards artwork that fits your space’s esthetic—and, as a bonus, will be better equipped to capture Dubai’s unique architecture and cultural aspects in their designs. The photographs they provide will not only add beauty and elegance to your home or office but also become a cherished part of your story.

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Dubai's Top Freelance Photographers Specializing in Interior Design and Architecture

Are you looking for stunning art photography to buy? If so, why not start your search in Dubai, home to some of the most talented freelance photographers around? Photographers from the region have built an impressive reputation across the world for their creative and beautiful architecture and interior design photography.

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Interior design photography – capture a space’s esthetic with photos that brilliantly showcase its architectural beauty

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A great interior design photographer will help you create dreamy and elegant images that will stay with viewers long after they stop looking at them. Let these professionals help you transform any room into one that reflects your own personal style!

How to Buy Affordable Photography Prints to Enhance Your Home's Decor

Are you looking to buy affordable photography print to enhance your home's decor? Whether you want a stunning piece of art photography or something more subtle, Dubai's top interior design photographers can provide the perfect piece for your space.

Find the Right Photographer

The best way to start is to research different photographers in the area and look at their work. Make sure the style of their art photography complements your existing decor and aligns with what you're looking for. When you find a photographer whose work appeals to you, reach out and ask questions about pricing, availability and more.

Prepare For the Process

Once you decide on a photographer, be prepared to go through the process of selecting which photography print is right for you. Most will have an online portfolio where you can browse images, or they may even come out to visit your home so they can take measurements and get a better feel for what will fit in your space.

Understand Framing Options

Make sure you understand all available framing options that are available as well. Ask questions such as: What kind of materials are used? Does the pricing include framing? Are there other upgrade options? Discussing these details with your photographer ahead of time will make sure that when it comes time for delivery or installation that everything goes smoothly.

Original source : https://nateleecocks.blogspot.com/2023/05/finding-stunning-art-photography-to-buy.html

[gffa]

hi. i am also consumed by the thought that vader & obi-wan are sharing memories. i don't know if you've already talked about this before, but do you think there's support in canon to argue that they can be read as a force dyad? (if not i will take this headcanon & run as far with it as i can, but still)

Hi!  In canon?  I don’t think so, because a Force Dyad isn’t simply a super strong bond, but a super rare type of connection that can’t just be created (god knows Palpatine tried and failed to do so with Anakin!) and isn’t just two strongly connected, but literally seems to be two people existing as one person in the Force.  It includes them being able to share objects through the Force itself, which Obi-Wan and Anakin don’t exhibit any evidence of being able to do things like that. What they have is a strong connection with each other, they are familiar with each other and that familiarity is what creates a bond between two people, same as the other Jedi bonds that develop, like Dooku still has a bond with Yoda that he and Palpatine try to exploit, like a bunch of reference books talk about Mace’s deep bond with Depa, etc. Obi-Wan and Anakin’s ability to sense each other might be stronger than usual (due to how entwined they are with each other personally + Anakin’s ridiculous level of midichlorians + Obi-Wan’s skill with the Force) but everything else about it seems like it falls within the range of what we see from all Force-sensitives.  If they had a dyad, I don’t think Obi-Wan would have been able to disappear from Anakin’s senses for those ten years post-ROTS, for example. However, I absolutely do think you can read it into their dynamic and layer it over the canon material, especially after Obi-Wan Kenobi.  The connection between them was off the charts, from Obi-Wan seeing Anakin on Mapuzo to their shared memories to the shared experience in the bacta tank. I would love to see fandom play with this idea because I think it would be fascinating to weave it together with the canon--like, how did Palpatine react to this?  Did he try to use it for his own benefit?  Or did he realize that, as long as Obi-Wan Kenobi was one with Anakin Skywalker, he’d never get Anakin to fall, so he kept trying to break their connection/force his own connection with Anakin? Were there instances we didn’t see of stuff being transferred from one to the other, but they never really thought much about it?  Just that, oh, yeah, Obi-Wan always seemed to be missing an extra blanket at night, the Temple gremlins must have gotten it?  Did they just chalk a lot of weirdness up to, well, Anakin is ridiculously powerful in the Force, of course they just kind of knew stuff about each other and Anakin was so needy that he’d just barge into Obi-Wan’s mental space without even realizing it? Or is it that each dyad is different, that the definition is that two people exist as one in the Force, but how that manifests is different for each?  Like, Kylo and Rey could share objects across the Force, but Obi-Wan and Anakin couldn’t do that, instead they did something else, like hauled the other person onto the landscape thousands of lightyears away? There is so much that could be done with Obi-Wan and Anakin having a dyad, and hell I would love to explore the idea that it wasn’t a naturally occurring one, but that Anakin--being the son of the Force itself--just went, “OOH I WANT ONE.” and god-moded himself and Obi-Wan into it. ANAKIN GOD-MODING HIMSELF INTO A FORCE DYAD WITH OBI-WAN WOULD BE HILARIOUS AND REALLY FUCKED UP, I THINK I JUST TALKED MYSELF INTO IT GOD.

[izzabeean]

Chapter 2 : Chemical Imbalance

pairing : fushiguro toji x fem!reader

warnings/tags : 18+, alternate universe - office, eventual romance, alcohol, masturbation, non-consensual touching.

genre : angst + fluff + smut

word count : 2,845

a/n :  I didn’t know what direction to take this chapter, but so far I’m feeling good about it. I’m finding it a bit difficult to write from a male perspective, especially in this series. Toji is a complex character and I want him to be liked a lot by the end of this. Don’t worry we will be seeing more Y/N. I appreciate everyone’s patience after releasing Chapter 1/Preview as basically the same thing. I hope you enjoy Chapter 2! xx

extra : toji in a suit 

18+ minors dni!!!

masterlist  | << prev | ch. 2 | next >>

Toji remembers a time when he was more at peace. The ideal envisionment of what he could have had if he wasn’t so plagued by his childhood… if he wasn’t a disappointment. The hopelessness and depression left once he met her. He can't quite remember much, just the weightless feeling that she once gave him. The way she appears so gracefully into his life, accepting him for the man he was but also bringing out a side of him that he didn't even think he had. He remembers the look of love and compassion beaming from her soothing eyes and the glimmer of light that seemed to radiate around her.

No more darkness, just light - he could see it both figuratively and literally.

He remembers a time they were together on a lush field surrounded by hills that feel like could stretch for miles. The landscape is serene and picturesque with a cloudless cerulean sky and the twinkling smell of fresh-cut grass fills his senses. Whispers from the wind kiss his skin and toss his hair as he turns to look at her. He reaches for her hand and holds it tight, his pride, his anger, and his resentment vanish in seconds. Never, ever could he possibly let go of the exuberant fulfillment flooding his chest. If he could, he would stay like this for eternity. He never truly understood what it meant to love until he meet her and he didn’t think it would be possible to ever find it again. He was lucky, he finally wins -

But something wasn’t right. 

A heaviness pushes down on his shoulders and that’s when the beautiful scenery starts to deteriorate and crumble in front of him. He feels no fluidity in his limbs, just the motions of an altered entity unable to take control. That's when panic sets in. It’s almost like the world is punishing him for finding even a piece of happiness. 

Toji tries to grab her hand tighter, but that’s when he realizes he can no longer feel her touch. When he turns to her, she’s there still, but her very existence flickers, caught in between existing and non-existing. He tries to grab her hand, pleading her to not go, but she smiles and closes her eyes, vanishing into the air like dust.

His throat tightens. He could’ve sworn that she was there and within seconds yet she’s just gone. None of it makes sense!

Darkness swallows the light as anxiety and anguish build in him at the sudden loss. A sharp pain rushes through him as he deeply exhales, reverting to anger. He blames himself. He blames himself the most because he did nothing, but watch her go. The fresh swell of rage rises through him losing himself in the corrupt act of abandonment. His lowly, lecherous self entangled with his need to numb the pain follows by a low and painful scream.

Then Toji wakes. 

The sound of his alarm blaring startles him. He turns over to shut off the racket, still half asleep, then takes a moment to stare at the ceiling to remind himself that it’s only a dream. Though he fights to forget about his past in his waking life, his subconscious seems to falter back to the days with her. An all too familiar scenario haunts him in his sleep more often than he’d like to admit. And the worst part is, it always starts the day off with an unbearable taste in his mouth. But he can’t waste away as he’d like, seeing as it’s the beginning of a new work week. So after mulling over the idea of calling in sick, he rises from his tatami bed. He heaves for a moment, overcome with a numb feeling that he refuses to think too much about.

A shower sounds nice, he thinks before discarding his boxers on the floor and then walking over to the bathroom. He turns on the tap and steps into the shower after picking the ideal temperature. As the warm water hits his body, he lets out a satisfying groan. It trickles down his spine and muscles, giving him goosebumps as the warm water clings to his body. The only thing that would cheer him up would be getting sucked off right now.

He bites his bottom lip thinking back to an evening he hooked up with a very well-endowed woman. He can’t seem to remember any distinct features, but her tits definitely made an everlasting impression. The agitation in his blood seems to grow and an ache in his bones makes him quiver as he eyes his crotch, immediately painfully hard. Electricity pulses through him as he reminds of the unbearable stimulation from the way she moved her hips while he was inside her. His dick throbs at the thought. Undoubtedly, this morning was about to get a lot more interesting, even if it was his own hand pumping his cock.

He circles his hand around his girth and starts stroking himself. A shudder runs down his body as a bead of precum washes away under the water. His hand slides up and down his shaft, he groans, engrossed in the blazing ecstasy when his hand slightly tightens around his dick.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, trying to prolong the masturbation, but his impatience gets the best of him.

Toji starts to speed up, fucking into his hand faster and harder. And it’s so vicious, it was almost painful. He grows more and more forceful, loud groans escaping his mouth. He wants his entire body to unravel as he clenches hard around his length. Then his hips thrust hard as he came over his fist. He rides out the orgasm slowly pumping his cock soaking up the high.

He steadies his breathing before gaining his composure back. He tries to ignore the dissatisfying post-orgasm feelings and stands up straighter, reminding himself that he needs to get ready for work. And yet he can’t bring himself to move. He feels paralyzed with heavy anguish in his chest. He’s long past admitting he’s depressed, but also just straight up denying it, but for some reason, today feels so much more exhausting than the rest.

The train is full shoulder to shoulder of men, women, students, and more trickling in at each stop. It was a typical morning commute as Toji holds on to the handle overhead, his shoulders feeling a bit stiff in his salaryman outfit, thinking maybe he needs to get a new one. He doesn't mind the business casual work attire, he finds he can clean up pretty good in a dress shirt and tie, it's just the jacket that always makes him uncomfortable. With the hypothetical raise, he could finally have the money to get one tailored to fit his broad shoulders - that's wishful thinking though.

Standing in front of people seated alongside a window, he watches passing buildings and the people sway with the train, side to side, as it picks up and slows down leaving and arriving at each stop. But the calming feeling takes a turn when the train makes an abrupt stop causing the crowd to lunge forward. Toji braces for impact as a young man smacks into his firm frame. The man looks up, quivering in fear as Toji stares down, face full of irritation. The stranger apologizes, but Toji doesn’t care, his attention draws to a commotion past the man.

“What do your think you’re doing?” A woman demands, holding up an older man’s hand above his head for everyone on the train to witness. The man struggles to let out a groan while his hand starts to turn white only proving how tightly her grip is around his wrist. 

Toji locks onto her face – it’s you.

“Fucking pervert!” You seeth before violently releasing his wrist and then pushing through the crowd away from the assaulter.

Toji blinks before letting out a snicker under his breath. Normal etiquette on the train is to remain silent and it’s absolutely hilarious that you cause an uproar just to spitefully embarrass someone. He wonders how you can so easily call someone out. And honestly, it’s very attractive.

He keeps his eyes on you, but you take no notice of him walking up to the sliding doors. Your hair is up in a high ponytail, your lips are pursed together and you have that angry look on your face as if to say don’t fuck with me. And now he knows he wouldn’t. But now part of him wants to.

At the office, Toji starts to feel the Monday blues, his eyes barely staying open, his attention drifting off. So much so, he believes the only way he’s going to get through the day is to make another cup of coffee, for the second time this hour.

“Good morning, Fushiguro,” Kong greets.

Rubbing his temples, he looks up, replying with, “Mornin’.”

“Didn’t sleep well?” Kong asks, raising an eyebrow while also noticing the dark circles that reside under Toji’s eyes.

“Who can even sleep in this city?” Toji huffs, looking into his empty cup of coffee.

“Isn’t your neighborhood quiet?” Kong challenges.

“That’s the goddamn problem,” Toji sighs, his eyes drifting around the room stopping on you who is chatting with a co-worker. Your beauty innately distracts him from any thoughts as he observes you. Another colleague walks by and sends a good morning to you. You smile, waving innocently before returning to your initial conversation while taking a sip from your cup. Toji smirks. "'Ve you talked to the new girl yet?"

“Hm?” Kong hums, looking behind him to see where Toji is gesturing. “I haven't yet. You?"

"Briefly, on my way out on Friday," Toji mumbles, continuing to cast glances in your direction while talking to Kong. "Made quite the impression."

"A lasting one?"

"You could say," Toji snickers.

"Whoa,” Kong snorts, noticing Toji trying to contain his excitement. “She better not be married.”

“That wouldn't stop me,” Toji says before standing up and grabbing his cup. “You wanna cup of coffee?”

“The usual,” Kong agrees, heading back to his desk.

Toji nods and quickly turns around, without paying attention to his surroundings, and immediately collides with you. The cup you’re holding, still half full of coffee, spills all over your white blouse. His eyes widen as a curse hisses under his breath, regretful of what he'd just done.

A coworker standing by hustles to grab napkins as you stand looking down at yourself in complete shock. A scoff passes your lips and your eyes look up to Toji. He can’t read your expression, but at this point, he’s just ready to hear it from you, thinking back to the earlier encounter on the train with the expectation of your fists to go flying in a raging fit as fury bubbles through your blood. Is it weird to admit he wants to hear it? He wants you to get mad at him? He wants to feel the wrath that sinks in your eyes. 

But you seem too much in shock to the point your co-worker cuts the interaction off with paper towels.

Toji wants to apologize but as you start to blot at your shirt, he notices he can see through it. Everything is going too fast, all he can hear is his heartbeat as he looks down. The stained fabric clings to your breasts and he can see the lacey bra you're wearing, it’s almost as if you’re teasing him while cleaning yourself up. Suddenly, he can feel his pants grow a bit tighter.

“Fushiguro,” a rough voice sounds across the room. 

Everyone looks up from their desks at Toji and Toji looks at you who is now leaving the room to fix the mess he’s made. He pauses before turning his gaze to the director standing at the front of the room. 

“May I speak with you in my office?”

Toji walks past everyone, and he almost feels like he’s a kid being called into the principal’s office for bullying a little girl. He tries to pay no mind and looks forward without making eye contact with anyone. 

In the director’s office, a big window almost the size of a wall welcomes him with a jaw-dropping view of the city. Though it’s fantastic and surreal during the day, Toji can only imagine how it looks at night.

“Please, take a seat,” the director says, sitting at his large desk while gesturing to a smaller chair.

Toji sits down, feeling his frame stiffen in the seat, noticing how uncomfortable it is. He’s heard about this tactic before from big corporations, bosses finding new ways to intimidate their employees. For example, make them sit in an uncomfortable chair while staring at them in all cozy and snug in their large chair. But Toji could be far careless. The director is a smaller, much older man. Toji could take him easily in a fight, pounding him to a pulp, finishing him off in minutes. Frankly, on many occasions, he’s had the urge to beat the director up, but alas, he restraints his carnal instincts reminding himself that he needs to make money.

The director clears his throat, and says, “I called you in to talk about the project you’ve been working on.”

Toji nods in response.

“I’d like to commend you for your valuable efforts,” the director continues. “I see you’ve been staying long after work hours, really polishing out the final draft.”

“Yes sir, I expect it to be complete by next week,” Toji replies.

“Very good,” the director replies with a big smile. “I look forward to the presentation.” 

“As do I sir,” Toji responds.

“Ya know, if all goes well, we can really look into a promotion,” the director exclaims. “Perhaps a position that requires you to have your own office.”

Toji’s stomach dips at the director’s words, it almost feels unreal, but externally, he plays it cool. 

“Then I’d better get to work if that’s the case,” he says while getting up.

The director lettings out a giggle. “Perfect!”

“Thank you, sir,” Toji forces a smile, before walking towards the door.

“You know, Fushiguro,” the director sings, catching Toji before he leaves. “You’re actually quite charming when you put in an effort.” 

Toji’s smile almost cracks from the boss’s backhanded compliment, but he just nods before leaving the room and closing the door behind him. A fresh swell of rage consumes him as he goes back to his desk. How could someone so incompetent run a large corporation? It’s absolutely absurd. Toji feels like he could burst from rage.

With deep breaths, he tries to focus back on work, reminding himself where he last left off. As scans through documents, he notices in his peripheral that you're back in the office, this time wearing an oversized crewneck, probably taken from the lost and found. He knows he has to apologize but finds himself making an excuse to do it later because he is busy with work.

Just as he's about to dive in, a lanky-looking guy walks up to Toji's desk. His light brown hair is jelled in a douchy mess with his dress shirt top buttons undone and his tie hanging low.

"Yo, you got a sec," he asks, placing his hands on Toji's desk.

Kaito. One of Toji's least favorite co-workers. The guy asks too many questions and is always in his business, trying to convince Toji to take some work off his hands. Hate is a strong word, but Toji definitely loathes this man.

"Dunno," Toji mumbles, not even looking up from his computer. "You gonna ask me a dumb question?"

"No question is a dumb question," Kaito expresses.

Toji pauses then looks at Kaito. "Not sure if that's true coming from you."

"Whoa buddy, simmer," Kaito laughs. "I'm asking from amigo to amigo."

"I'm not your buddy," Toji retaliates with a disgusted look. "Honestly if you could just fuck off, that would be great. Buddy."

Kaito is quiet for a moment, while the wheels slowly turn in his head. "You're mocking me aren't you?"

"Can't say," Toji hisses, getting up from his desk grabbing a pack of smokes, and walking off without a single word. 

He sneaks off onto the roof for a smoke break to mend the irritation caused by the director and Kaito. They both deserved a senseless beating for putting Toji in a bad mood. His entire day has just been a nightmare, honestly, the best part of it was seeing you yell at that old man on the train. A feeling of guilt hits him as he thinks back to bumping into you. That's never happened to him before, he's not a klutz, he's always aware of his surroundings, yet you caught him off guard. It's strange how flustered he got upon your shock. Normally, Toji would know exactly what to say and that was the first time his entire mind went blank. He feels terrible. He knows he needs to apologize. He just doesn't know how to.

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tags: @brumous11​

[cartoonfangirl1218]

Twisted Tales: Unbirthday Review

Liz Braswell’s Unbirthday asks the question “What if Wonderland was in peril and Alice was very very late?”  I can tell Braswell is a fan of Wonderland (or at least she had a very good editor and extra readers helping her) because it was a very merry splendiferous sort book of Nonsense utilizing many hallmarks from the movie and the Carroll books. From the author’s note warning readers that only mad hatters may take mercury, readers cannot eat mercury or they will die, I knew I was in for a treat. She has a deft voice in describing the changing landscape of Wonderland that always manage to bring people where they need to go. A fact that Alice comes to recognize and learns to trust. For in Wonderland, it’s best not to think too much. But follow your instincts like a child. It is all magically strange yet familiar and Braswell embraces the best part of Wonderland is how the child’s view of the world can be so free-ing. Unlearning all you learned makes the world more sensible. Additionally, she keeps consistent rules within the Wonderland world and in the real. Like Alice forgets her Wonderland antics while in the real world like it was a distant dream. And she forgets England and her work over there, calling it things like Angleland and such. This, of course, makes it all the more difficult for her and more compelling to read. 

Braswell kept a consistent voice in Alice combining her Victorian day sensibilities that made her feel so frustrated with Wonderland and a curious outlook on life that keeps her on the fringes of respectable society. Just the way she describes things in Aloce’s POV comparing dandelions to bread-and-butterflies, it just felt perfectly off kilter. I also enjoyed her choice to make Alice a photographer, a new sort of hobby and magic in Victorian times. It fits her curious nature and further highlights the dual worlds with mirror-like glass slides that show mundane and horrifying images. 

It’s a long book, 500 pages, split into 3 parts, and she uses every page to the best extent. Not only does she explore Alice’s return to Wonderland, but also the xenophobic forces rising in the latest mayoral race. I’ll admit I was more interested in the latter as it is unfortunately very timely. While Alice and her like-minded friends (her libertine Aunt Vivian who is such a role model and socialist-milliner, Mr. Willard, the Hatter’s real world alternate) are able to see clearly past the pure English rhetoric, Alice’s older sister doesn’t and I was eager to see how or if Alice could change her mind.  There is also the introduction of Alice’s love interest, Katz who shares her odd outlook on life. They also tease each other and poke each other. He, calling out her privilege as a sheltered English girl with money while he was a Jewish son of immigrants. Her, reminding him that as a woman she has opportunities that he does. He was a poor immigrant that worked up to become a lawyer. She still can’t even vote. They get each other and challenge each other, and I so enjoyed their interactions. And how their bond is vital to finding the solution. In both worlds. 

However, Alice realizes what happens in the real world affects Wonderland and vice versa. After 10 years away, she is summoned back on the anniversary of her first visit because she is the only hope left against the mad Queen of Hearts. Well. . . Madder. Her reasons are ridiculous but they make perfect sense in a Wonderland way, and the denizens of her kingdom suffer in daily executions and maiming. Even the March Hare is killed! And the Mad Hatter, Doormouse and Dodo barely make it out alive. The Mad Hatter is bumped about, he has the Nonsense knocked out of him. And a conventional Hatter is strange indeed.

I enjoyed the darkness that is imbued in this tale, really getting into the terror of war and the injustice of prejudice rhetoric in politics and mobs. She covers the different kinds of men and women involved from the unknowing prat who just wishes to join the winning team, to the knave that does the bare minimum of effort even when he knows it’s wrong to the ones who truly fight on the front lines. While Alice acknowledges that it may be temporary solutions, at least they tried. There is also an emphasis on ——. I would tell you, but it’s an answer to a riddle that would spoil the whole solution. So I’ll leave it here for you to ponder.  I have mine and you have yours It's needed in a painting But in the end none agree on the meaning of the thing.

I don’t have many nitpicks as Braswell set out with an ambitious book and I believe she did well with such a grand scope. My one nitpick is that sometimes there were misspelled words like cents instead of sense, but since it’s a wonderland book I’m not sure if it was intentional or not. 

Go read the book if you want a ridiculous, nonsensical adventure into childhood and wonder. And darkness and prejudice. It’s a dual narrative of smoke and mirrors and a perfect treat for ones unbirthday. 

[delimeful]

Builder

new minecraft AU update! this one jumps between the past & the present! 

warnings: zombies, injury mention

-

Patton found the old house on a cloudy day.

He was still hit with the urge to roam, every once in a while, and while Logan’s home rested on the edge of a swamp, there were green, rolling hills to the southwest that were lovely to wander in.

Logan normally escorted him, as an extra pair of eyes with a helpful cat familiar to prevent any creepers from creeping up on him, but today he had been immersed in his potions. He’d found a new enchanted spellbook while out on a voyage, and was practically bursting with ideas upon his return.

Patton had smiled and left him to it, waving off any concerns with a promise to be extra careful and come back home if he started feeling sunsick.

He hadn’t meant to amble so far off course, but he’d seen a beehive, and where there were bees, there were flowers!

Spurred on by the idea of a flower crown for his friend, he’d found himself farther westward than he’d ever gone before. The hills turned to a taiga landscape, and between those towering birches was the house.

It looked uninhabitable, the wood rotted and the roof collapsed, but something about it called Patton closer, and so he pushed aside the remains of the front door and walked inside.

The stairs were ruined, barring any entry to the upper level of the house. Any furniture that had once stood tall was now utterly destroyed by years of exposure to the elements. He stepped carefully, ducking past cobwebs and listening to each creaky step.

Finally, he reached the back corner, and stopped, turning his head this way and that until the dull glint of metal caught his eye, half-hidden behind a dusty bedframe.

He crouched next to the iron hatch, and with only the barest moment of hesitation, pulled it open.

Daylight spilled into the basement below, and he caught a glimpse of clouded eyes set in a rotting face before the zombie backed up out of the light with a groan. Patton stumbled back with a yelp, falling on his back, and then crawled forwards and slammed the latch shut.

There was no protest from the creature below, and he left the house at a sprint.

-

Logan had followed him back out to the house based on nothing but Patton’s panicked ramblings alone, and his brow had grown more and more furrowed as they reached the house, ventured inside, and re-opened that hatch.

“I passed this house many times,” he spoke slowly, voice pained, “and all this time, someone had been down here?”

Patton leaned in, hands shaking as his eyes adjusted to the dark. “There’s two of them,” he corrected softly, and then stood back up in time to watch Logan hurry out of the dilapidated building.

It was guilt that his anger stemmed from, and Patton gave him some time before following, ignoring the bubbling remains of a shattered potion on the ground to pull his friend into a long hug.

“Could you help them?” he asked, once Logan’s witch mark had ceased its glowing, and his fists were no longer white-knuckled. “The way you helped me?”

Logan had been looking at him with that helplessly surprised stare, the one that always appeared when Patton witnessed his supernatural ‘fits’ firsthand and stayed anyway.

At the question, his expression went firm. “We’re going to try.”

-

The next few weeks were a rush of planning, harvesting, and brewing.

Patton hadn’t been sure he would be much of a help at all, but Logan had an unending list of tasks that he was working through, and a surprising amount were simple enough that Patton could manage them himself, like scavenging for certain ingredients or preparing others in a certain manner.

Eventually, he even began his own little garden, where he planted the ingredients more commonly needed for most of Logan’s potions.

Other tasks weren’t so easy.

Gold couldn’t be grown, for example, and their luck in mines varied from day to day. Some of the ingredients were only found in the Nether, and while Logan had traversed it enough to be familiar, it was still a dangerous place.

Logan had once returned home with a crossbow bolt lodged in his shoulder, having survived the trek back by leaving the bolt in and drinking a potion of healing anyways. They'd had to reopen the wound to get it out, and Patton had insisted on waiting by the portal for every venture after, just in case something like that happened again.

Still, bit by bit they worked, until Logan had a refined version of the cure he’d created for Patton.

Applying the cure didn’t actually take that long, though Logan expressed his frustration with how difficult it was to maneuver young zombies. Apparently older zombies-- the ones that were more bone than flesh, the ones that didn’t flinch away from pain, the ones that no potion could cure-- were much easier to lead. More predictable after the last traces of humanity faded from their minds.

Regardless, Patton’s very talented friend managed to separate and enclose the two of them in cells on his own, refusing Patton's assistance to avoid adding an extra person to the mix and complicating everything. He did allow Patton to help him with the actual curing, and how strange it was, to be on the other end of the process this time.

The potion & golden apple combination went over without a hitch, and Patton didn't think he'd ever slept as deeply as he did the night after those hard weeks of work. With the former zombies now laying tucked into their own beds, healing more by the day, Logan and Patton were left to wait in anxious anticipation.

Luckily, they had plenty to do to occupy their time! The new residents would need a place to stay, after all, and though Logan’s home was cozy, it wasn’t large enough to fit additions. Patton had originally wanted to build a neighboring house right next door, but Logan had suggested they build it closer to the decrepit house, just in case these strangers wanted some space to themselves after their ordeal.

Patton had a sneaking suspicion that the suggestion was also in case the others reacted badly to Logan's witch status, but he didn’t call his housemate out on it. He was nervous about meeting these new people too, after all. He hadn’t really had the opportunity to spend much time with anyone but Logan since regaining consciousness, and sometimes it all seemed like too much.

Now though, building this place with the breeze at his back and Logan at his side, he felt as though he could take on all the muchness in the world.

He set another wooden beam in place, stepping back to smile at how close they were to finishing the house. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it had taken a lot of hard work, and Patton had a good feeling about it.

New beginnings didn’t come around every day, after all.

-

Patton smiled nostalgically at the house in the distance, the one at the heart of the village that he had built together with Logan all that time ago.

It was amazing how much the village had grown, one new home at a time, occupied mostly by former zombies at first, and then the occasional traveler settling down, and eventually a few kids running about. It had become a thriving community, and Patton never stopped feeling proud of all the work that everyone had put in to keep it safe and welcoming.

There was a curious little ‘vrrp’ from behind him, and Patton turned away from the half-finished wall to see Anxiety shuffling in place, avoiding the gaps in the floor that hadn’t yet been patched.

“Just lost in thought!” he reassured the enderman, reaching out slowly and patting his friend’s arm, giving him plenty of time to scoot away if he wasn’t feeling up to touch today. Anxiety held still, fingers curling around Patton’s hand in turn.

After a moment of this, he teleported away sheepishly, and Patton muffled a chuckle as he turned back to finish installing a window. Logan would be here soon, but until then, it was nice to have company as he once again worked on adding a home to their little patchwork village.

Patton would be the one moving in, of course, and though there was a new addition to their population, Anxiety was more of a secret housemate than a homeowner. (They wouldn’t want anyone gawking at him, after all!) Even with those differences, the process was still familiar enough to make him grin.

Anxiety made a small, otherworldly 'notice me' chirp, and Patton turned to find there was a solid block of dirt in his wall, the grass on top of it still green. It only took him a moment to connect the dirt’s presence to the empty-handed enderman shifting antsily next to it.

“Oh! What a nice touch!” he encouraged, and laughed as Anxiety teleported back and forth in apparent pride. “It’s fun to work together with friends on stuff like this, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t really understand the noises that the enderman made in response, but he got the sense it was a resounding agreement.