#anyway i like making these longer form posts it scratches my brain in a nice way and i hope you enjoy them too <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[bennetsbonnet]

It's surprising and, perhaps, a little depressing for a book so ostensibly beloved and held up as one of the finest in English literature, that Pride and Prejudice is so widely misquoted and misunderstood. It seems to be primarily viewed as a romance in the public's imagination, rather than the comedy of manners it truly is.

A large part of these misconceptions are admittedly, due to its various adaptations. I think a lot of people are surprised when they read the novel for the first time and discover that Mr Collins does not possess an affinity for boiled potatoes; that the proposal scene does not take place in the rain; that the second proposal is not made by Mr Darcy stumbling over his words at dawn and, ultimately, that he does not emerge from a lake in a wet white shirt. Nor is he really a brooding romantic hero.

The adaptations have had such a huge impact on the popular perception of Pride and Prejudice, that all of these products can be found on only the first two pages of an Etsy search of the title. All very nice products, I am sure. However, none of them contain quotes found in the original novel:

(quite why you'd want to be seen in a 'barely tolerable' hoodie I don't know but... each to their own... )

I question how widely-liked the actual novel is, if those who are keen to walk around in merch or decorate their homes inspired by Pride and Prejudice, are doing so with references that are nowhere to be found in the book's pages. Adaptations are part of many of our paths to falling in love with the novel; they were part of mine. But there are so many hilarious quotes contained within the first few chapters alone, you soon realise that nothing can live up to Austen's quick, witty dialogue or her observational comedy.

Yet, even when the novel is correctly quoted, it is not always done in an apt manner. Jane Austen was deemed important enough by the Bank of England to warrant her own banknote. Released in 2017, it looks like this:

I remember the controversy about the portrait, and how little it actually looks like the only (incomplete) drawing we have of Jane (which was said by those who knew her to not even resemble her all that well), but that's another matter. I'm most interested in the quote from Pride and Prejudice beneath it:

Let's put the quote in context. It is taken from chapter 11, and spoken by Caroline Bingley who is trying, unsuccessfully, to capture the attention of Mr Darcy.

Why did she pick up a book? Because Mr Darcy did:

'Darcy took up a book; Miss Bingley did the same'

How much enjoyment did she derive from the book? Not a great deal, apparently:

'Miss Bingley’s attention was quite as much engaged in watching Mr. Darcy’s progress through his book, as in reading her own; and she was perpetually either making some inquiry, or looking at his page. She could not win him, however, to any conversation; he merely answered her question, and read on.'

And now comes the actual passage from which the quote is taken, which tells us why Caroline chose that particular book:

'At length, quite exhausted by the attempt to be amused with her own book, which she had only chosen because it was the second volume of his, she gave a great yawn and said, “How pleasant it is to spend an evening in this way! I declare after all there is no enjoyment like reading! How much sooner one tires of anything than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library."'

On the surface, such a quote—especially taken in isolation—would invariably lead you to believe that said character was an avid reader. However, the context demonstrates that Miss Bingley is far from a bookworm.

If you were left in any doubt, however, her next action surely confirms it:

'No one made any reply. She then yawned again, threw aside her book, and cast her eyes round the room in quest for some amusement'

As soon as Caroline realises that her quest to capture Mr Darcy's affection is futile, she throws her book away entirely; perhaps there are more enjoyable pursuits than reading, after all.

So, a quote deemed to have such importance as to be immortalised forever alongside Jane Austen on the currency of an entire nation (the design of which will likely be used for several decades) is so important in the context of the novel that it is... uh... *checks notes* ignored entirely. Right.

I mean, I don't necessarily understand why the quote had to be about reading but if it was, I could argue that a quote from Mr Darcy in chapter eight, about how extensive reading improves the mind could be far more sincere. Or why not one of the numerous lovely quotes from the novel? Obviously, an agenda was set and a quote needed to be found to match it.

Still, it is quite ironic indeed that reading actually opens your eyes to how ridiculous a choice of quote was made.

Anyway, what is my overarching point? Well, I think, largely due to its various adaptations, a majority of people believe they know the story of Pride and Prejudice. But shockingly few, despite it being consistently ranked as one of the most popular books, actually understand it on the level which it deserves to be.

This post was not intended to bash adaptations, it is absolutely fine to like them! But they are, by their very nature, going to differ from the book. That is inevitable. Yet, I think it's quite sad when people watch a film or series and believe they can possibly understand the story on the same level. Spoiler alert: you cannot. I know books are a luxury and reading is time-consuming, but Pride and Prejudice is out of copyright now. PDFs are abundant, as are audiobooks if you cannot sit and read!

Put some time and effort into understanding the novel. I promise not a single second of it will be wasted; you will gain a deeper admiration for Jane Austen's talent as an author, and you will fall in love anew with the many wonderful characters she so beautifully brought to life.

[manonamora-if]

The Roads I Maybe Should Have Taken

The TRNT Post Mortem

Oye oye! As was promised, so it is! The Post Mortem for The Roads Not Taken (which hopefully won't be as long as the actual game...)

Follow me into my journey of once again speed-running my way through a competition, and coming out scratched and bruised and still not learning my lessons!

First, some links:

if you haven't played the game yet, I recommend you do before reading this!

you can find its IFDB page here (if you want to leave a review?)

and the STF version source code here for the code curious!

shortened version of the PostMortem on IntFic

Then, a little Table of Content:

The Idea

The Story

The Implementation

The Reception

The Do-Over?

And finally, we start! (under the break because it will be long - LoL at me writing 1/5th of TRNT as a Post Mortem)

I should preface this Post Mortem with I entered the SpringThing on a whim. I had just come out of a conga line of competitions and game jams since last Summer (log of release/update), and had plans on finishing working on other projects instead of this one (which I probably should have... sorry The Rye in the Dark City for abandoning you...). But I obviously didn't do that because here was another new fresh game! And then another two of those just after... whooops...

The idea for TRNT just popped into my brain one day and would not leave me until I implemented it, no matter what (yes, I am still weak willed, I have not learned my lesson from The Thick Table Tavern, the one about not rushing a project and publishing it at a later date when it is truly ready). I did have that thought in the back of my mind that if I do do this, it would be very likely I would end up with a repeat of TTTT, as in: half-full drink with too much ice, and expired garnish falling from the very pretty fancy glass.

Also I did not start working on the entry until the SeedComp was in its voting round (so around the 4-5th of March?). I really wasn't kidding about the speed-running thing....

Another thing: I had never created a parser game before this point AND suck real time at playing them! This was also indicated in my Author's comment.

Nothing obviously stopped me anyway, because here we are...

1- The Idea

A few weeks before the opening of the SpringThing intent, the French IF community was streaming some older parser entries, including Aisle* and Pick-Up the Phone Booth and Die, two games where the player can only do one action before the game ends. I'd never really experienced this kind of game before (the closest being having a sudden death/continue the story choice). It packed a punch, it was funny, and also so very weird. It left me dissatisfied and super intrigued. I wanted to try and do that too someday. *Funnily, someone on the French IF discord thought DOL-OS had been inspired by Sam Barlow's work (it wasn't, but TRNT def was).

Not, I am not going to be hella pretentious and full of myself by putting TRNT on the same level as those games (because I don't think I did a good enough job to merit a comparison), but the one-action-only gameplay and multiple endings drew me in (I love abrupt endings, cf P-Rix). I've mainly written longer form of IF rather than short bites, and I thought it would be fun to try to constrict myself as much as possible, by having just one thing, one action, one outcome.

And also: parsers. I had only dabbled with the Choice-Based/Hyperlink format, so I thought it was time to try the last unexplored part of my IF journey: parsers. Since the SpringThing Festival is a nice place to experiment, I thought why not try to make one then! I could not have survived the anxiety of the IFComp reviews for that one...

Still, it was not going to be without a challenge. I had very little experience with parsers, and I honestly didn't think I could learn how to use a parser program in such short amount of time*, when I had a lot of other stuff at the same time. So I thought, why not make it in Twine**, at least I know this program inside-and-out(almost). There would not be a steep learning curve there... What could go wrong? *lol at me, having made an Adventuron game in a non supported language in about 2 weeks after that, without ever having tried the program beforehand. I could totes have managed!! **Also, when I got set with Twine, I realised how fun it would be to maybe put people's expectations upside down by doing something you're not supposed to with Twine... or parsers!

Well, it was going right at first...

2- The Story

I really wanted to recreate the same gameplay of Aisle with its only-one-action-and-it's-over, so I started listing possible actions and put them into a context where this choice of action would mean everything for the PC - because it is the only action you have. Which might not have been a good take? Aisle works because the setting is incredible mundane, and there are no stakes.

The context pretty quickly drew itself as the player will chose a profession/career path, and if they do/choose something wrong, then...😬too bad for them, they made their choice, deal with the consequences. While, in reality, we are not stuck in a life because of one choice, but with a myriad of them (and still we can change this trajectory), it's still a big pressure you get as a youth, having to choose where to go and what to do when you are done with highschool, and what path to take. It's a lot of responsibility that sometimes feels like it will affect/haunt the rest of your life. Do I still have some of that school/parental pressure from when I had to make that choice ingrained somewhere inside? probably...

But the more foolish idea was to let my brain continue to think more about that context and create a world and story further than the choice. Instead of going forward with the consequences and the hints of what could have happened or just let the choice being the centre piece, the brain just went backwards and created a society (some sort of futuristic one) and vaguely described beings (that are not humans), and the ritualistic culture of this society, etc... While it was fun to think about all of those, and maybe provided a fun setting and enticing story for the player to go through the game, there might have been a bit too much of it. I think, in hindsight, this may have devalued the choice itself (which became even more watered down when I continued on writing the first screens).

And so, the job choice soon became the player is going through some sort of ritual (v trope-y) to determine their place in society. If it has a vibe of The Giver, it shouldn't be too surprising, the book is on my shelf.

So we still have the one-choice-to-rule-them-all, but now there is a also backstory and setting... and I have to include it somewhoeeven if it means cramming it somewhere, anywhere.

Oh wait, I thought, I'll just make it like a prologue to build anticipation for the choice!

And so the brain went on zooming again to create the waiting room, and the agonising walk in the corridor, and the finding your way to the altar, before you cant finally make your choice..... only to end up with two(-ish) paragraphs for each endings. wow - what a good balanced game this is becoming...

Speaking of endings, I had originally listed over 50 actions, each planned to have a different ending.... only to end up with about 11, 7 of those were actually related to the final countdown choice. It made me sadder than when I cut onions :(

It wasn't just the player that needed to make...

At this point, we were two weeks away from the deadline. I had the backbone of the code (-ish), a good third of the writing wasn't complete (and this was mainly those 11 endings), and no one had tested the game yet. There was no way I could have included all 50 original options if I wanted to make the deadline. might have been good in hindsight to remove those choices, especially with the current command system.

So choices had to be made and a buttload of planned things had to be cut. I narrowly managed to finish the needed endings in time (which required re-writing some of those into a fake choice), at least.

At the end, I strayed quite a bit from the Aisle concept of a mini intro - one action - an ending puzzle-y feel (and making the player piece the story together from the endings), to arrive at... well... this anxiously geolian walk to one's doom (or dream). Making the story quite... well... linear.

And from going somewhat wrong, it went a little wrong-er...

3- The Implementation

Wanting to avoid the headache of learning a new program, I had settled on Twine pretty much from the start (SugarCube, because that's how I've been rolling for the past almost 2 years!).

The big problématiques of this project were:

Twine is not a parser program (duh)

SugarCube has its limitations still (and macros that don't always work the way you want to)

I had never written a parser game before and suck at playing them (thank you, French IF streams that helps me enjoy them without experiencing the frustration of not finding the right combo!)

I still suck at JavaScript/jQuery to do weird things with the page (and probably fix all those issues)

and well did I already say Twine is not a parser program?

So I tried to get to the basic of parsers (an input box and text revealing itself onto the page when a command is entered) and prayed for the best. Easy, right?

WRONG!

SugarCube has an input box, but can only autofocus* inside one specific place (so you can't lock it somewhere else but the passage itself, which means you need to add it to every screen...) and when the passage is first loaded (doesn't work if the input box is added later on). *I have also hurt some kitten by overusing autofocus, which was only compensated by offering the the SugarCube God some bug reports about it so those issues could be fixed for the next update (TBA). But you really are not supposed to use autofocus as much as I did... 😬

SugarCube has an input box, but you can only move to another passage after you press Enter. So you can't have some fancy input checks, and you stay on the same page... without some custom listener macro* that is (Bless you Maliface and your Listen Macro) - or I guess some JavaScript code, but who has time for that... I had included a button as an alternative to confirm the commands (which was how I had coded it for DOL-OS), but it would have made the parser experience much worse if using Enter would not have loaded a response (this was a criticism from DOL-OS, which now that I know how to fix, I really should do so...). *at least until the next Sugarcube update which will include a listener.

SugarCube has an input box, but doesn't have a bank of commands, or set object indicator (like with the parsers). While you can technically separate the inputed words with some JavaScript**, whether you do so or not will end with the same amount of spaghetti code at the end, with the different conditional statements for each actions on each screen to show the correct text bits (mine amounted to almost 600 lines of code for 7 screens... without included the printed text! -> see the source code). Now that I've messed around with Adventuron, I can see how easy it is to make a parser game (set up commands and rooms and interactive object), when you have a bank of built-in commands and not have to worry about how to add the new text on the screen. Twine really added a new layer of complexity to this.... Was there a better way of doing this? probably, but don't look at me to find it. *this was how the name chosenname command came to be, and how it only printed the chosen name on the following screens. That and the autofocus being messy...

SugarCube can add text bits to a page, but unlike parser programs, it won't automatically scroll down to the bottom of the page, or at least to the added element. Adding a scroll down to the bottom or scroll up to the page was not too hard (I had some leftover js code), but it was not the solution: the UI is mobile/tablet accessible (smaller screens), which means scrolling to the bottom would make those players having to manually scroll back up (and I am usually quite verbose in my writing). So very much EH.... NOT GREAT! After quite a lot of testing, broken pieces of code, way too much swearing, and re-doing the base of the UI, I did manage to find a solution.... a month into the review/voting period.

But even with those limitations, I pushed through. I knew it was possible to make it work, so I either tried to find work arounds (and gave up the scrolling, at least until the deadline), and pushed through, banging my head against my desk because of what was achievable...

LIKE BUILDING A WHOLE COMMANDS SYSTEM...

Wanting to make things easy for myself (and the players), I thought maybe removing all verbs would make it easier to go through the game, even when having to interact with objects or people around. Enter the bolded word* from the text as the input, press enter, and read the new text! *It was important for me to have some sort of "easy" mode where the interactive things were obvious to the player, coming from a scene where parsers are not the norm/favoured.

Simple right?

This idea... stopped working as soon as I introduced physical actions (sit, stand, jump, etc...), directional actions (the story might be linear but it still has multiple rooms), but most importantly as soon as I wrote flavour texts for one same object. Even if I could get away with removing X/LOOK/EXAMINE*, adding verbs at the end was a necessity (I didn't want to see all the already written variation go to waste...). *I did include look in the code, but mistakenly didn't think about its synonym <- shows the no-knowledge of parser, and not having a bank of commands built-in.

So verbs were added, and then some of its synonyms (but evidently not the most important ones 😬), and then some prepositions just in case, and noun synonyms with adjectives because of how it is described in the text, and then.... so on and so forth. And because of how SugarCube is set, I ended up with lines like this at the end:

<<if ["initiate", "look initiate", "look at initiate", "remember initiate", "initiates", "look initiates", "look at initiates", "remember initiates", "recall initiate", "recall initiates"].contains(_cmd)>>

(and this is not even a correct or complete command list, since it is missing EXAMINE and X)

Et rebelotte for all the interactive words on the page, as well as the added variations requiring another set other verbs. There's not really a verb/noun aliases list to help...

BUT WAIT

Because I always like to make it difficult for myself and not think of the amount of work my ideas/plan will require, I had to make some bits of text appear only once (even if some commands could be used more than once on that page) OR removing the player's ability to make a different action when they do a specific one AND have some bits of text only appear after a command has been used on that page. Pushing the player through extra invisible gates on top of the different rooms. I could have made it easier on myself to break scenes further than I had already done, but nooooooo

And I did this not just once. BUT THREE TIME! When the player is called to get in line, in the corridor, and just before the big doors.

I could have fed myself for a whole week with the spaghetti that came out of my code.

But Manon, I can hear the little devil on my shoulder say, Why all the whining and excuses? You could have stopped if it turned out to be a bad idea, especially if you couldn't implement it properly. Why not have made the story in something else than a parser?

Well...

because Time (wa)s running out and I wasn't going to let all this hard work go to waste by changing everything up at the last minute (it could have worked/been easier, that's true)

because it was still a fun puzzle to solve, even if frustrating most of the time,

because you learn more when you fail than when you win

I'm not a quitter :P (hiding my too many WIPs waiting for me....)

Even if I doubted myself with finishing the game on time, I still pushed myself to cross the finish line, since I knew I would not have finished the project otherwise. Thought it could have been fun to get the 12 angry men passing judgement on my Twine monstrosity making a mockery of parsers had I submitted it to the very serious ParserComp instead. /jk lovingly

So after some "extensive" testing (rushed in the last week, because I am a nightmare to people, sorry @groggydog and @lapinlunairegames for making you go through this, but also thank you for your help!!), I made it to the end!

Well... barely. Ended up with a few bug fixes update along the way.

4- The Reception

(it was like that in my heart)

Like TTTT, this was not explosion of praise and accolades. And I fully expected it. You can't make experiments omelettes without cracking a few programs/rules eggs. At least my omelette didn't have too many eggshells :P

Looking at the numbers, at the time of writing this posts, TRNT is currently sitting at 5 stars (4 ratings) on itch, and 3-1/2 stars on IFDB (2 ratings)*, with 4 reviews on the Forum (bellow the median/average this festival). None of the ratings game with reviews/comments. *When some of the reviews will be moved to the IFDB, I do expect this average to get lower. The itch one is nice (really happy 4 peeps loved it!), but most people only rate when they didn't like it or when they loved it.

As for the feedbacks gotten, they came from a few sources: the people who playtested TRNT, dms on Tumblr and the Forum, the Twine server, and the awaited reviews on the Forum.

Overall, the people who liked the game really enjoyed themselves, from the writing and the worldbuilding being intriguing, or how pretty the UI was. Even with the issues raised during the festival, quite a lot of people (who sent me comments) thought the experiment was either a success, something really cool, or impressive considering the limitations (of the festival and/or of the program). Even in the more critical comments, this experiment was seen as an interesting one to be commended (with a bit of a why did you bother... sprinkled in there). Someone told me TRNT reminded them of the Divergent series (and fair comparison, considering the whole ritual to put you in one job for the rest of your life).

The most surprising thing was that people who never played parser before (or didn't really liked them) found the game entertaining and fun to go through, managing to get to the end without too many issues; while the reviewers with more experience in the genre had a bit more restraints due to the command system I put in place.

Whether my giddiness about verbose writing was to the liking of the player or not, I was honestly happy comments about my grammar didn't make much of an appearance this time around (yay, progress!), and that I would get kudos for the vague story behind the experiment itself, and the structure of the story itself.

But this doesn't mean that it was all sunshine and rainbow here. TRNT had some obvious issues, which should have been squashed during the testing phase had this one been longer (yet again, me speed-running through comps when I should take my time... when will I learn...). There were two main ones: the commands and the UI.

The biggest issue came from the commands, being either unclear or confusing, especially when it came to the cardinal direction, the choice of synonym for the actions, or special actions like the name input. Even if you could go along the story with just a noun or press C until you reached the end, missing important verb commands did not help the game feel complete (EXAMINE/GET/the shortcuts). This is where having some Parser knowledge/experience would have come handy, he.... As for the cardinal directions, it was probably most confusing because I used them as synonyms for forward/back/left/right instead of N/S/W/E (that and it wasn't clear where you were able to go in the text either). Quite a few players were also getting stuck in the corridor (after you come to a stop, you hear some thing up front and your choices are to move to the side/jump or stand still). Special actions like the name input or the final choice were felt a bit off/broke immersion. Party due to the way SugarCube is, partly due to how I organised the game. Having a simple input where the player is asked for their name before the game start and have a say name command, might have worked better there. That and a better hinting system. Fix for those TBD.

Closely followed was the UI being annoying (which ;-; bc I pride myself on creating good UI, but it was fair critique), from the scrolling being an absolute ass, to the confusing bolding of the start of passages being the same as the interactive words (if you didn't change the colour in the settings), to the back/replay last choice command on the END screen not going to the right spot, or the responses of computing an inputted command not appearing/being confusing (in relation to the scrolling), some quirks with the UI being wonky for some screen sizes, etc... Thankfully, all those have been fixed.... but too late for the reviews already published. A quick revamp of the UI base + solving the scrolling issue + slight reformatting of the printed new text bits solved if not all of those issues. Still... too little too late... That's what you get for making a UI in a large screen and only checking different width but not different heights....

A SIDENOTE ON WHY PARSER AND NOT HYPERTEXT

Or me going a bit on a rant. Scroll down to pt 5- The Do-Over to resume coherent levelled conversation.

Still, making a parser a Twine was a CHOICETM, which didn't work for everybody. I don't know if it was because the game was put forth as a Twine game before being a parser, or because the story was maybe a bit too linear/not very interactive compared to other parsers, or because I set out to make a parser before thinking of a story and it showed for some, (or probably because the parser system was not very well implemented) but I did have a few commenters wondering if my choice of making it a parser was the correct one, as in why would you use parser when hyperlinks would have probably worked better?

Maybe a cop-out answer would be Why not. Why not try to break the rules and the codes of what is a Twine game or what is a parser? Why not push Twine to where it is probably not supposed to go (sorry, TME)? Why not blur the lines of the divides between the subgenres of IF? I wrote some part while having a bit of a fever, and my notes had Why not make parsers less puzzle-y/more linear choice-based like? and oh boi is it good to re-read yourself... Cause yiekes what a load of BS.

The other part of the answer is Because experimenting and doing weird thing is fun! Doing weird thing, writing bad code that should probably not work but it does, putting the program on a lifeline, making up stories that are nonsensical, etc... and breaking people's mind in the process with what could be done. Also it was just fun to find out whether it was just possible to do it at all. The rush of happiness when you the puzzle is solved is so incredibly gratifying. It was really fun to try something different (for me but also for what Twine can generally do), to solve a puzzle of mashing two things that don't/shouldn't go together, to find what makes them tick and make it all work, and to challenge myself to do something new (did I mention before it was my fist time making a parser?). AND, having fun creating! And the SpringThing has always been a beacon to promote experimentation with the genre and more out there stuff. So it's was kind of like the stars aligned or something :P

Also Because it was possible!That one is pretty self-explanatory...

Maybe a bit more presumptuous of me: Because experimenting keeps Interactive Fiction fresh and exciting! I'm not trying to set a trend or anything here (honestly, it's not too strange, TRNT's weirdness kind of follows my previous work with TTTT and its mixology element, or DOL-OS with it computer interphase), but isn't fun to see what else can be done in IF, or what new area can be explored now that funky stuff has been tried, or what else should probably not be done (hopefully this doesn't apply to TRNT lol, I think it should be fun to have more parser in Twine). Even if my entry was not really a novel idea even in the gameplay (exhibit A, exhibit B, exhibit C), I still think there should be more weird stuff out there, so I contribute to that where/when I can! It'd be sad if IF became same-y and stale... It'd be fun if someone did something like this because they played TRNT and thought it was neat :P

And Because it didn't fit with my original vision of the game. Even if the game changed quite a lot along the way, the parser element was something I would not compromise with, no matter how good or bad the final product was. Sorry TME for the kittens lost in the autofocus of the textboxes...

I did wonder for a while how many people opened the settings at all 🤔

5- The Do-Over?

Ha.

Haha.

Hahaha.

No.

Honestly... If I was going back to the start, I don't think I would change anything. Even if the length of the testing was more than minimal (still haven't learned my lesson), even if I rushed into the competition (again, not learned my lesson), even if I made errors along the way (well, maybe fixing the UI earlier instead) or let the story stray that much away from the original idea (honestly it was probably for the best that it ended not being too close to Aisle at the end, I might have gotten eviscerated in the reviews). It did what it was supposed to do, and checked all the boxes from what I wanted to try. At the end, to me, it was a complete (and stressful success).

Will there be some changes in the future?

Just a bit, at some point, TBD and TBA. Just to fix the commands a bit, maybe rearrange some passages, add a bit more variation/hidden codex entries, maybe even a new ending or two! But it wouldn't go further than that. TRNT was an experiment through and throuh.

==================== THE END ====================

Anyway, my weird hybrid beast of a parser in Twine and I are done rambling about my awesome show of tricks that may or may not have landed badly and with a broken skateboard. We will go collect our ribbons, now!

Make IF weird, Do word crimes, Have fun

I do wonder if me submitting the game in the Main Garden rather than at the Back Garden played into the expectations of the reviewers, since the BG is meant for more experimental IF. But in the same vein, there was the Kuolema running on a Google Form and people flocked to it so 🤷 It's probably the quality that made things the way it is whooooops :P

[worldwidemochiguy]

Toy Box (Yandere! Taehyung)

➵ You’re Taehyung’s perfect little doll, so when you aren’t so perfect, pretending you don’t like his hugs and kisses, pretending you don’t like him, Taehyung teaches you a little lesson using his other, different toys.

➵ Warnings: Hard yandere, reader is threatened with a gun, reader is threatened with a knife, non-consensual body modification (nothing major im just tagging to be safe), objectification, drugging.

➵ Word Count: 2.3K

➵ a/n: my first commission!! thank you so much to anon who requested clingy hard yandere taehyung or jimin (of course my gremlin brain said both, but since you said ‘or’ i decided to go on the safe side and just pick one lmao), i hope you like it!! if anyone would like to donate to a blm cause, my post outlining the details about commissioning is here!!

➵ Masterlist

It felt like you had been doused in honey.

There was this thick, sticky sweetness that clung to your limbs as you tried (and failed) to roll over. An uncomfortable warmth blanketed your senses as you attempted to shake your mind out of the fuzzy state it had sunken into. You had little success.

Gradually, you became aware of the warm puffs brushing the shell of your ear. A hard body pressed against your back, arms wound tightly around your midsection like manacles. You would push them off, but your arms were buried in honey. You could almost detect it on your tongue, and it tasted like last night’s dinner with a hint of something else, something chemical hidden underneath.

A whine trickled past your slack lips when you realised that he had drugged you. He could’ve done- could still do anything to you, and you would be powerless to stop him. Watching through a sickly-sweet haze as he played with you like a toy.

The helpless noise which escaped from you must have reached the ears of your captor, as he grumbled and shifted behind you, arm tightening, verging on painful. Not that you could object, of course.

“You’re awake?” His deep voice was huskier in the early-morning air, pausing after as if he expected a response. He seemed to remember your predicament a moment later, and chuckled. “I suppose I shouldn’t wait for an answer.”

You felt the pressure of his fingertips on your chin, pushing lightly. Your vision swam as he tilted your head over to face him, your eyes scrambling to take in new information and feed it to your cotton-wreathed brain. His eyes darted over your face, cataloguing the unfocused eyes, drooping lids and slack jaw. But he didn’t look worried. No, he looked pleased.

“Good morning, baby.” He smirked, planting a kiss on your forehead. His smile widened as he realised you were no longer able to wriggle away — as you tended to do — and this seemed to prompt him to kiss you again, and then again, and soon he was decorating every available piece of skin with his lips, trailing them down to your jaw and neck.

“This is nice,” He murmured against your skin, “I like it when you don’t make a fuss. Just lying there prettily and letting me take care of you. You’re such a good girl for me, right?”

Not like I have a choice, you tried to reply, but all you could make out was an unintelligible series of mumbles and whines. However, Taehyung could apparently still sense the disobedience in your tone, and he straightened up.

You were glad he had created some distance between the two of you, until you noticed the flicker of malice in his eyes. Recognised it, from hours of pain and brief reprieves of solitude. The fear — which had been suppressed to a whisper by the drug weighing down your muscles — started to build into a clamour in your still fuzzy-head.

Taehyung reached over to grab something from the bedside table, and you tried in vain to tilt your head to the side so you could see what it was. Your efforts ended up ultimately pointless, as Taehyung was quick to press the gun to your forehead, enabling you to see it clearly and unambiguously.

The click as Taehyung removed the safety was jarring against your skull, drowning out the terrified whimper that slipped past your lips.

“Another good thing about this,” Taehyung said conversationally, “-is that you can’t even try and fight back. Of course-” Taehyung broke off with a smirk, “-of course, fighting back is pointless anyway, since you know you could never win. But like this…”

Taehyung dug the muzzle into your forehead, the cold metal grazing painfully against your skin. “It illustrates your helplessness in a much more tangible way.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you fixed your wide eyes on Taehyung, conscious that this could be the last sight you ever see. Mangled pleas and apologies dribbled down your chin, making your gut clench with humiliation as you couldn’t even summon the effort to move your tongue properly.

Taehyung must’ve found this amusing, an adoring coo building in his throat as he watched you beg for your life.

“So pretty, baby girl.” He praised you, dragging the gun down to wipe away your tears. He pulled the metal away from your face and you couldn’t hold your sob of relief.

You watched in confusion as he ran his tongue along the barrel, his face warping into an expression of twisted pleasure as he tasted the physical evidence of your misery. He noticed your face and chuckled, placing the gun on the pillow beside your head.

“I wanted to see if your tears tasted as sweet as every other part of you does.” He explained, tilting his head as he ran his tongue over his lips, “They didn’t, but…” He paused thoughtfully, before a wolfish grin took over his face. “Maybe I should taste them from the source.”

He leaned in, and began lapping at your cheeks. You don’t know why this made you cry even harder. Perhaps it was the terrifying knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted with your body, and you had no choice but to lie there and take it. Perhaps it was the utter humiliation of being trapped, powerless underneath him. Perhaps it was despair — physical affection which you would usually welcome being warped into something cruel and animalistic and punishing.

Whatever it was, Taehyung was certainly enjoying it. He laughed, one hand trailing greedily along your side, coming down to scoop under your waist and lift your torso up to press against his. His other hand was braced in a fist beside your head as he leaned in and tasted your skin like a man starved. His teeth grazed along your cheekbone and you wondered, for one horrifying second, if he would take a bite out of you.

The thought made you hiccup mid-sob, and Taehyung pulled away.

“So upset, baby.” He cooed understandingly, “Are you scared? You don’t want me put a bullet in your pretty little head?”

You shook your head as vigorously as you could manage, resulting in a small jerk from side-to-side. Taehyung cooed again at your efforts, placing the gun back on the side table, much to your relief. The feeling was short-lived, however, as his hand returned clutching a knife.

“Would you like me to use this instead, angel?” He asked, and the terror you were so pumped up on crashed over you in another exhausting wave. It felt like the more you panicked, the less control you had over your body. You were helpless as Taehyung trailed the edge of the blade gently along your neck.

“You see, a gun is quick. Just one trigger-pull, and that’s it. With this, I can take my time. I could go on for hours.” The knife dug in slightly at your collarbone, just hard enough to break the skin. You mewled in pain. Taehyung drew his face in close to it, watching, enamoured, as a bead of blood welled up and trickled into the hollow at the base of your throat. His tongue darted out to taste it.

“Maybe I could carve my name in right here, show you who really owns your body.” He mused, trailing a finger along your now-bloody collarbone. “Or maybe I could write it on your wrist, hmm?” His hand wormed down to grab your forearm and present it to you, smiling viciously. His teeth were stained with red.

His smile dimmed artificially when he noticed your tear-streaked cheeks and desperate expression, trying your best to form the word ‘no’.

“Oh, you don’t want me to do that?” He asked, eyes widening as you shook your head. His expression darkened imperceptibly, even as his eyes remained innocent and large. “Well, why should I do what you want? You don’t do what I want, do you baby? All I ask is that you be pretty and relax when I hold you, like a good doll should, but you can’t even do that unless I drug you first.”

“Why shouldn’t I just-” He dug his knife in slightly at your wrist, and you whimpered as blood welled beneath the skin and ran down your arm, warm and thick. “-just carve my name into your pretty skin? You belong to me anyway, maybe this will finally make you accept it.”

You writhed, desperately trying to knock the blade away from your arm. Of course, it was useless, Taehyung had more than enough strength to hold you down and do whatever he wanted. You realised, with a cold fist of terror clenching in your abdomen, that what he said was true. No matter how much you tried to deny it, Taehyung effectively owned you.

Your captor’s eyes flashed with intrigue as he watched your subdued hysteria. If this was how you reacted at the simple prospect of a little scratch… how would you react to something more… permanent?

Taehyung lifted the blade from your skin, pausing to — of course — run his tongue along the bloodied edge. The possibility of cutting himself didn’t seem to bother him as he tasted your blood, groaning around the drops of ruby red trickling down his throat. It was nauseating to watch.

He receded to a crouch at the foot of the bed, and your discomfort grew, ratcheting up abruptly as he picked up your foot and placed the knife on the underside of your ankle.

“Do you know what this is?” He asked gently, his tone completely at odds with his actions, pinching your skin harshly between thumb and forefinger. He didn’t wait for an answer. He didn’t care in the slightest what you had to say.

“This is your Achilles Tendon. Just one little severed nerve, and-” He dug his nail in, laughing as you whimpered. “-you’ll never walk again. You’ll just lie here in this bed, pretty and perfect. All mine to hold and cherish and look after. If you want to go anywhere, I’ll have to carry you. But, you wouldn’t want to go anywhere, right? You have everything you need right here.”

“T-Taehyung,” You managed to gasp, your heart thrumming in your chest like a hummingbird trapped in the cage of your fatigued limbs. You could barely muster the energy to produce the pretty birdsong you knew he was waiting to hear. “Please… duh…don’t.”

“Don’t?” Taehyung repeated curiously, before deliberately digging the knife in. You felt the tendon bend underneath your skin, weakened under pressure. It was only so long before it snapped. “You don’t want me to cut it? Why?”

“H-Hurts,” You sobbed, because it was true. It would hurt if Taehyung cut you. It would hurt if you couldn’t walk without assistance. It would hurt to lose your last remaining vestiges of hope that you might somehow eventually escape this hell. But you knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“Oh, baby,” Taehyung cooed, crawling forwards to plant a kiss on your forehead. Normally, you would flinch away from his lips, but the rush of relief that came when Taehyung drew his knife away from your ankle had you almost sighing into the affection. You felt his lips curve into a smile against your forehead.

Ah. There you go. That’s what he wants.

“I don’t know,” He mused indecisively as he wrapped his arms around your prone form and laid back on the mattress, tugging you onto his chest. Even though he was pretending to deliberate, he had already placed the bloody knife back on the bedside table. You were so relieved, you didn’t even cringe as he tucked your face into his shoulder.

“I suppose I don’t have to cut it… I wouldn’t want to give my baby any ugly scars, would I?”

“No.” You mumbled quietly, fervently.

“But… can I trust you to be a good girl? To let me take care of you the way I know you need to be taken care of?”

“Yes.” You lied.

Taehyung’s large hands stroked up and down your back, one travelling to the base of your spine and resting there possessively, the other coming up to cradle the back of your head. Your neck was still quite weak from the drugs, and he had to hold your head to stop it lolling from side to side.

“See? This is all I wanted.” Taehyung breathed triumphantly, taking in your forcibly relaxed, placid expression. “I just want to hold you. To- to-” He flushed, and you almost started laughing at him, “-snuggle with you, without you pretending you don’t like it and ruining everything. Okay? That’s the only reason why I used the knife and… everything else. You know I’d never hurt you, baby.”

And as twisted as it was, you knew he was telling the truth. Taehyung never wanted to hurt you. He just wanted to keep you clutched in his possessive little fists like a child with their favourite toy. Arms always wrapped tight around you like he was scared someone would snatch you up during playtime.

He nuzzled into the top of your head, evidently deciding it was time to fall asleep, and you had no choice but to follow, allowing the drug to overcome you and tug your eyes shut. His hands kept caressing over the centre of your back, right where the pull-string would be on one of those old wind-up dolls. Yank the string as hard as you want — dolls can’t feel pain! — and listen to it speak to you.

I love you so much!

I love you so much!

I love you!

I love you!

[phoenixyfriend]

The “Momma Sturmvoraus was Literally Satan” AU

As requested by @spazzbot​. This AU was initially brainstormed on the GG fanworks server almost a year ago. Specifically, on the first day of 2020.

[ID: a truncated discord message by “Miss Nixy, Gay for RoboLadies” posted 01/01/2020. The message reads “I need to sleep but please for the moment consider:” and ends there.]

So. Let’s get to it.

Satan took a human form because why not see what's going on topside, live like a human, and “Oh shit is this pregnancy? This is pregnancy. Fuck, that's a tiny human. Which is now half demon. Am I supposed to take care it? Wonder if retconing this form into that Valois family was a bad idea. They do have SO much money though, I get to live like a queen. I suppose another child shouldn't hurt, it wasn't that bad. Oh, he's cute, this is actually making sense, why humans do all the sinning. Not counting dear Aaronev's murders, of course, those are just evil, but I did search out the worst of the humans to pair myself to...”

This is literally just "Tarvek and Anevka's mom was low-key Satan on a bored “let's be human for a decade or two to see what happens” jaunt, consequences happen because these kids are LITERALLY half-demon and arguably anti-Christs."

Also it's just Very Funny for Tarvek, ineffectual sexy lamp fashion twunk extraordinaire, to be an antichrist

Jeff thinks he’s pretty. Jeff keeps describing features that don’t entirely make sense. (Jeff’s canon name is Karl Thotep but they spent so long unnamed that the server collectively named them Jeff.)

This is not a crossover with anything, btw. Ambiguously Pop Culture Satan just got bored and went to have babies with a serial killer.

They’re just kids! That are vaguely demonic. So. Moreso than the rest of the Valois.

Sometimes "mom" comes back from the dead and visits Anevka and Tarvek to impart Wisdom and possibly magic lessons The rooms always smell faintly of sulfur after that...

They try to put Anevka in the machine but SHE isn't hurt and the MACHINE just melts

So that's the end of that.

It's very awkward for everyone, but the paperwork isn't too bad. It's very easy to write "incidental fire began during late-fugue experimentation, resulted in fire spreading through six rooms and several casualties, including Prince Aaronev Wilhelm Sturmvoraus."

As per @atagotiak​, “I feel like if we’re going in any way dimensional weirdness with thing, Tarvek got so good at exploring bc he could just clip through walls.”

With image provided by @thisarenotarealblog​:

Tarvek in Paris: My dead mother keeps showing up in my dreams to tell me I need to seduce my way out of my problems and also she looks like Satan. Tarvek's Voltaire-Appointed Therapist: I still don't know what that means. Just like the last five times. Tarvek: I keep telling her that I can’t seduce Colette, if seduction is that important she should get Anevka to do it.

Like he probably wouldn’t say most of that in front of any Voltaire-approved individual, but still.

Tarvek is still very good at self control but there's a Special Edge to his rants.

(Derailed in the moment to me thinking about Anevka in a sfw-but-concerningly-deadly succubus getup, because... yeah.)

Aaronev dies and goes to hell and his dead wife is just there like "hi! Time to be tortured for eternity!" He wasn't a good husband so. He can't exactly sentimentalize his way out.

“In the sexy way?” “... not for you, no.”

Mostly I just want the BULLSHIT that is "Storm Mom was actually just Satan getting bored and going on vacation as a retconned Valois girl, the kids are half-demons and sometimes it Shows."

To clarify: the Satan bit isn't the retcon. Grandma used to have one daughter. Now there are two. (Seffie and Martellus's mother doesn't remember being an only child, but sometimes...)

Satan retconned a new daughter in, which included a Valid Valois Venusian Vestment, so the blood tests play out.

The subtle signs of wrongness would be fun too. Anevka tends to smile a bit too wide and sharp for a human face. Inexplicable uneasiness, here you can’t point at any specific thing that’s wrong but it’s uncomfortable. Uncanny valley prettiness, almost like the porcelain she became in other timelines. Skin isn’t supposed to be that smooth.

My brain's pre-nap contribution at that point was "Satan's pronouns when not pretending to Human are sin/sinself" which is! Certainly a thing.

Tarvek, at some nebulous future point: I mean, your ancestors were monsters, but my dad was a serial killer and my mom was literally Satan, instead of just figuratively like Lucrezia, so. I mean. I kind of get what you're going through.

Per @firebirdeternal: Tarvek and Anevka growing up with "you're allergic to holy water" and not questioning it until a little later because What.

And then they test it and it's like "yeah, no, there's a rash now. That stung. What the fuck."

It INFURIATES Gil in Paris when Tarvek tells him that's a thing, because there's nothing chemically different about Holy water and regular water. But no, this is somehow happening.

It gets logged in medical journals as a Valois genetic thing because, well, Mom was like that too, right?

One time they both go into a church for an Adventure and Gil is very annoyed to find that Tarvek is like. Faintly smoking. It smells like burnt hair in here.

Gil: What smells like burnt hairgel? Tarvek: [glares]

Gil decides that it must be something particular to the church, like a fungus or something in the stone, contaminating the air and water so it only LOOKS like the holiness is what's setting off reactions.

It is not.

Tarvek once got into an argument with someone and ate a slab of raw, completely uncooked meat as a power move.

SVV seems to work perfectly. Everyone is fine. We get the ‘you fight like ducks’ moment.

And then Tarvek bursts into flames, and everyone panics because no they fixed this what the fuck is he still infected with Hogfarb’s oh my god... and then everything settles down and he's perfectly fine. Not a scratch on him, no longer turning funny colors. Completely unharmed. He's in a nicely tailored suit and looks faintly stunned

"I just met my dead mom, who's apparently Satan. She told me that after I died the first time just now, I should be harder to kill later, especially with fire, because now there's more demon and less mortal and guys I think I'm going crazy." "Is that a martini?" Tarvek looks down. "Apparently."

Tarvek starts just. Randomly setting things on fire by glaring too hard and has to tone it down. Meanwhile, Agatha and Gil are having crises about how he's somehow getting PRETTIER.

Is he faintly glowing? Maybe!

Gil handles it by angrily sniping at Tarvek about how of COURSE he's an evil little rat with a background like that.

Tarvek just wants a nap and to forget this ever happened. Many people are sworn to secrecy. It's very awkward.

Still, SVV did something, for handwave-y reasons, and so they're linked now. Gil and Agatha both getting tiny flashes of the same shenanigans.

They get none of the powers. They just keep getting Weird Shit.

Other characters with divine influence are like "Did you.... did you make a pact with a demon?" "What no that's our boyfriend."

Tho tbh I wouldn’t be surprised if a Heterodyne did sign a contract with a demon at some point in exchange for like. Materials. A hundred souls sacrificed in exchange for some succubus blood. Thanks!

Tarvek and Othar: Falling out of CW as in canon. Tarvek: WHAT THE HELL SINCE WHEN DO I HAVE WINGS HIDE THIS BEFORE I GET BOOTED FROM THE LINE FOR THE THRONE

IDK where Anevka is during all this. I think she might have decided to go sleep her way through the courts of the Ice Tsars. Vacation, y'know?

Othar after he's decided to make Tarvek his new Heroic Apprentice: AH, my poor afflicted young friend, it's noble of you to go against the dark nature of your tragic heritage like this. Tarvek: I hate you. I wish I could hate you to death. But you have a point. I shouldn't let my father's blood limit what I strive for in life. Othar: I... I thought your mother was... Tarvek: I know what I said.

Tarvek: Also you can't tell ANYONE about that, I can't have them thinking I'm not actually in line for the Storm King's throne.

He does admittedly have to like. Explain things to Grandma.

Terabithia is Tarvek’s maternal grandmother so this is supremely awkward. That said...

Grandma fondly remembers her pregnancy cravings; bone marrow and sulfur.

"Yeah so, my mother, your daughter, was... maybe actually Satan? But retconned into your life?" "Tarvek, darling, please. I figured that out half a century ago."

TARVEK ACCIDENTALLY FINDS HIM HIMSELF WEIRDLY INTENSE AT CONTRACTS

I mean that honestly just Tracks about Tarvek anyways? But like moreso.

He just. Writes something up and there's things getting signed or shook on and then the person tries to break the contract and either suddenly catch fire or are deeply unlucky for a set amount of time.

And Tarvek's just standing there like "how in the FUCK did I do that?"

Severity of infernal punishment depends on the severity of the breach of contract.

Tarvek finds out that Anevka's been convincing rich people to sign their souls over to her. It's a fun challenge. She keeps them in jars.

They can still remotely pilot their bodies but like. They can't TELL anyone what happened.

Satan: I'm going to go make babies and now everyone else has to deal with the consequences.

Anevka's living up to that whole "princess of hell" vibe. Tarvek's just like "nope nope nope I want the storm throne, not the hell throne, BYE MOM."

Satan's just feeling sinself down in hell like "awwww look at my babies go, aren't they adorable?"

Tarvek: Anevka, what... first off, how did you figure it out? Anevka: Well, I temporarily died when father put me in the machine, and... I can't say that hell kicked me out because they were afraid I'd take over, but mother DID say she'd rather I play about with human governments instead of Hell's. Tarvek: Okay, cool cool cool. What after you planning to DO with all these souls? Anevka: They make for some lovely reading lamps, don't they?

(Anevka absolutely sets herself the goal of acquiring new titles that rival her old ones, or even surpass them. She just black widows her way through Europa.)

I just want someone (probably Snackleford) to ascend, take one look at Tarvek, and run SCREAMING.

Tarvek still needed to be anchored to Higgs, because Tarvek is Baby.

Gil is eventually in a relationship with an Eternal God Queen and the Literal Son of Satan.

Family dinners can include ALL the in-laws if you duck down to hell! - You borrow Bill from... probably heaven, maybe purgatory. - You have Lu and Aaronev and Satan already there, though the first two... well. Aaronev and Lu get invited to dinner but they have to eat by themselves at the kiddy table and nobody talks to them or acknowledges their presence. After all, this is hell, and what better punishment for Lu than to be completely ignored, and for Aaronev to see Lu at her worst and be reminded that he gave everything for this horrible, horrible person who isn't even pretending to care about him anymore. - Zanta and Klaus get invited via portal. - Anevka saunters in with a blood-soaked dress and a complaint about militant demon-hunters refusing to let her go shopping for a new pair of shoes. - Zeetha tagged along with the OT3. (She can't wait to see this situation explode.)

Oh God, Satan is actually second place as far as good parenting goes.

Well, actually, fourth. Because Adam and Lilith. But second as far as bio parents go. 1. Zanta 2. Satan 3. Klaus 4/5. Lu and Aaronev N/A. Bill

Someone (Anevka) decides to stir the pot and invites Von Pinn, Terabithia, Bang.

Bang is basically Gil’s older sister, right? Right.

This is Zanta meeting Bang for the first time! Zanta is just: "It's so nice to meet my husband's adopted daughter." Klaus freezes. Bang freezes. Gil is the only one who is just. "Yeah." Meanwhile Zeetha is crying with laughter off to the side because both of them deserve this. (Zanta would legit love Bang though.)

Agatha: Tarvek, I think DuPree is-- Tarvek: Hitting on my sister? I know. Agatha: On your mom, actually. Tarvek: NO!

Also I do love the idea of like. Nobody tells Bang they're inviting her. She just wakes up in Hell like. "Ah. Yes. Fair enough."

Satan: Oh no no no my dear, you're here as a guest. Besides as well as you'd fit you're not one of mine, you've got other things waiting for you. Bang: Okay, but I love the decor. And is that Cheesecake?

Bang’s family has their own evil god in the novels, but! Bang DID pick on Tarvek a lot in Paris. Satan cares more than Anevka does. Bang might get the sexy punishment.

I feel like the fact that no permanent damage was done and it taught Tarvek a lot of things means Satan isn't gonna be all that upset about it.

And let's be real, if there's a character in GG who could look the literal Christian devil in the eye and be like "Yeah I tortured your kid, what're you going to do about it?" it's Bang.

Even Satan doesn't know what to do or think about Othar.

He sure is here! As Anevka’s arm candy! Nobody knows what to do except Anevka herself, who just wants to be Smug.

(What's that scene from Phineas and Ferb that's the mad scientist trapping the platypus within the rules of polite dining at a fine restaurant? Like he can't make a scene because that would be rude?) (That. Othar would dearly love to start a fight, but it's a Family Dinner. You're only allowed to fight verbally at those.)

(Othar isn't even fighting Satan, he just wants to argue with Klaus.) (And maybe fanboy in Bill's direction a bit).

[alias-levi]

flash fic friday #5

@liz-pooh​ this is for you, hun 💙💙

gooood evening people (or whatever time it is when you are reading this)! after hardcore plotting one of my wips for two weeks then procrastinating doing the next step of drafting my best friend came in with a request for me to write. the final result actually happens to be a bit too long for a flash fic but i’m just going to pretend that i don’t know that. here are some basic infos:

fandom: twilight word count: abt. 1.8 k  pairing: Felix/fem!oc warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, verbal fighting

summary: For weeks Volterra’s streets have been reeking of mutt. The smell seemingly following Liza whenever she leaves the castle’s property. While doing some shopping, she catches a reflection that be able to explain why.

[ID: imagine, Paul imprintes on Felix’ mate]

source: unfortunately we lost the post where this matter was discussed so if anyone know is/has it/finds it, please feel free to share it with me via private messages so i can give proper credit! 

thank you and the text is below the cut :) enjoy!

It’s a dark day, the sky heavily clouded. There is a thunderstorm to come, that is for sure. Liza in the meanwhile uses the time wisely, strolling through the narrow streets, doing some shopping. Girly stuff.

For umphteenth time Liza wrinkles her nose. The almost unbearably gross, musty smell of wet dogs wavers around her. Bypassing a shapeshifter occasionally is nothing too far off the possibility scale but this right here is borderline suspicious. For a few weeks now this smell has seemed to show up every time she had left the properties of the castle.

With a sigh, and a suppressed gag, Liza takes off the sunglasses she had just tried. Turning back to the nice old man owning the small shop, Liza smiles. “Thank you very much but I don’t think these are my style.”

The man eagerly nods and tries to convince her of another pair, but Liza stops him and kindly bids her goodbyes. Just as she takes her first step to walk away, her eyes catch something in the mirror. A reflection. Someone who seemingly fits the natives yet her brain screams at her that something is off. And then the person is gone. Liza frowns. Then her eyes widen.

A few well-measured, yet fast steps later, Liza disappears into the same small backstreet the man in the reflection had stood in.

“I know you are here. I have been smelling you for weeks wondering why Volterra has turned into a hotspot for mutts.” She spits the last word out with as much disgust as she can manage. The smell has gotten worse and Liza wonders if she would throw up.

The man doesn’t hesitate now. Stepping out of the shadows and into her way he looks down on Liza, swallows hard then takes a step back. “Listen I wish I could have saved us both this situation but I have to talk to you.”

Liza snorts then spits on the floor right in front of his feet. “I’m flattered you came all this way just to get your ass kicked, Paul.” An oh-so-sweet and innocent smile plays around the vampires lips and her violet eyes sparkle with excitement. Watching the werewolf almost shrink under her gaze, breaks Liza’s smile into a grin, revealing her fangs. 

“Liza, no. Please, it is important that you listen to me.”

“Then you better spill the tea, mutt,” she puts her weight on one leg, tilting her hip and cocks an eyebrow at him, “I don’t have all day.”

“I will try to make it as quick as poss-”

“For fuck’s sake, Paul, get to the fucking point!”

“Yeah, yeah! I got it, I got it, okay?” Paul raises his hands in surrender. “Listen, remember a few weeks back when Felix and you were-”

“-in Forks and kicked y’alls asses? Yes I do remember, why do you ask?”

Entirely unphased by this snappy interruption Paul continues, “Remember that moment in the woods where I suddenly turned back? You just made a comment and then ran off.” 

Rolling her eyes Liza says, “course I do. What was up with you anyways? Fell in love with the most badass vampire chick you’ve ever seen?”

“I imprinted.”

She snorts, “on what, mutt? The trees? The dirt under your nails?”

“On you.”

The sincerity in his voice makes Liza’s next comment get stuck in her throat. He wouldn’t travel all this way around the world to find her and tell her this if he was joking. Only slowly the full extent, the full meaning behind his words, seeps into her brain. Oh fuck.

“Oh fuck.”

“Yes, indeed. Listen I will try my best not to-”

“How the fuck am I even expected to react in a situation like this?”

“This is unprecedented. There is no knowledge of something like this having happened ever before. Believe me if I knew how to deal with this, how to make this work for the both of us- I would! But for now I just had to let you know. You are in this-”

Liza can see the muscles under his skin straining. He is fighting the urge to run, yet his brain tells him to stay with his imprint. This is fucking ridiculous. 

“No, stop talking, Paul.” Closing her eyes for a second Liza sighs. She then fishes out her cell phone out of her coat’s pocket. “Give me your number I’ll call you in a couple of days. I- I need time to think.”

Paul is surprised. In all the time he had known Liza, nothing could ever knock the smartass out of her. But he obeys and states his number. He knows that he has no say in who he imprints on even though this is by far the worst scenario he could have imagined.

“Uhm, I’m sorry, you know,” Paul watches Liza scoff and nod slowly. He looks defeated, tired and worn out. 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

A shy smile tilts the corners of his mouth upwards upon hearing her sass returning.

---

The conversation with Paul gave Liza much to think about. So much, that her initial confusion has now turned into full blown anger. Paul imprinting on her is an unforeseen and definitely not welcomed inconvenience. No matter how exciting being the first of anything might be- This is not it. Liza doesn’t want it. Nursing a glass of rum and coke, Liza stares out of the window. Volterra lies quiet and peacefully beneath the castle, a stark contrast to her seething mind. The door behind her opens and Felix enters their chamber. Immediately he gags. “You smell even worse than the past days. I swear I will find and kill every single one-”

“Leave it, Felix.” 

Liza doesn’t bother turning around. Neither does she bother saying anything else for the next two hours. She just stays right there, at the edge of her seat, straight back, the glass in her hand close to bursting in her hard grip. Keeping her eyes trained on the streets, Liza almost feels Paul’s eyes on her.

“Okay,” Felix sits up on the bed and puts the book he was reading into his lap. “Okay, would you please finally tell me what the fuck is going on with you?” 

Felix is sick and tired of having Liza filling the room with the most annoyed energy, making the air almost thick enough to cut. Her occasional, totally unnecessary overly dramatic, huffs don't exactly make it better. Apart from breathing, Liza has not moved an inch and Felix thinks that if she sits there just a little bit longer, her drink will simply evaporate. 

Another very patient fifteen minutes later, Felix realizes that Liza’s hands have started to fidget and her knee has started to bounce up and down rapidly. From staring out of the window, her eyes glazed over and she also stopped pretending to blink.

“Liza,” his voice is quiet but nonetheless demanding, “What. The hell. Is. Going. On?”

She takes her time and Felix hates her for it. But if he had known what she was about to tell him, hell, he would have relished every single second of not knowing. 

“Paul imprinted on me.”

The words are so quick to leave her mouth, and oh-so-quiet, that Felix almost misses them. But he doesn’t. His brain makes sure to let him know, with the burning sensation of jealousy pumping through- no, simply filling his body. His fingertips are burning and aching to scratch that boy’s eyes out. Through gritted teeth he finally manages to press out, “He did what?” 

Felix’ voice is dangerously quiet. 

Eventually Liza turns to face him. “I met him today. He asked me to talk and then told me that. Explains why the streets have been reeking.”

“Yeah, no, but- Why on you?!”

Liza smiles upon the barely contained anger in Felix’ voice now, the fire, the jealousy burning in his eyes. 

“Well he doesn’t exactly have the power to control it!” Her voice is sharp and louder than intended. 

“I know that, Liza, I ain’t exactly fucking new in this business.” After a pause of just staring at each other Felix adds, “When did that even happen, huh?”

“Remember when we were in Forks a few weeks ago? Found the pack at the beach and had some fun with them?”

Felix nods along and Liza smiles sourly at the absurdity of this situation. The exact same conversation had happened just hours before, yet, she had been the one listening and Paul the one talking. Providing delicate information.

“You yelled at me to not go too far but I followed them into the woods anyways. Well,” Liza sighs and Felix rolls his eyes at that, “one after the other veered but one of them didn’t. He was so eager, so... hell-bent on outrunning me. It was so much fun when I finally had him, pinned on the ground he looked me in the eyes and went still. At first I thought I had been too harsh, hurt him, or broke something. Then he turned back into his human form. Looking at me like he had seen a ghost.”

“He imprinted on you,” Felix deadpans. “That motherfucker really fucking imprinted on you!” 

Fury seeps into his voice as his body goes entirely still. Liza knows this look, his reaction, the unmoving body. Felix is like an animal, waiting, preparing for that one leap that will get them their prey. With slow movements she puts her glass down onto the floor. She might be naive. Trying to hold back who is said to be the strongest vampire to ever exist, is not in her power. After almost half a century together, Liza knows that she will not be able to stop Felix if he doesn’t let her. His abilities simply exceed her power. 

So, Liza does the only slightly realistic thing that comes to her mind. Keeping up her slow movements she stands up, walking over to the bed ever so quietly. Neither of them is breathing. With a gentle smile on her lips, Liza cautiously cups Felix’ cheek, feeling him release a breath he has never held onto her palm. Their eyes stay locked this whole time.

Bringing their faces close together, she stops only an inch before him. “Let’s not deal with this today, okay? I don’t want to think about it anymore for now.” Her voice is gentle, calm and barely more than a whisper.

Felix surprises her in leaning up, closing the small gap between them and pressing a chaste kiss onto her lips. “You reek of mutt, querida.”

Liza bursts out a short dry laugh. The atmosphere is clearly more relaxed now. “Right,” she stands up again, “I’ll take another shower then... Care to join?” With a wink she leaves Felix on the bed and walks towards the bathroom.

[writingawaymylife]

Dance Around - Jump Forward Part II

So… you know that video with the chick awkwardly going "hey… how y'all doing…?" Yeah… that's absolutely me. I honestly feel terrible for leaving you all with the hook in your mouths, I know how irritating it can be when a fic you’re interested in isn’t updated, or when the writer said there would be more and there NEVER was. But I’ve got it written down! 

I hope you guys enjoy this! I know it might have a big of an odd pace to it, but I tried my hardest to make it intriguing and well written. I was going to do the Stephen King thing, where I put the fic away for a week or so, that way I could catch anything with fresh eyes, but I really just wanted to get this thing posted for you guys! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Part 1

Warnings - Swearing, Higgs

Words - 1831 or 5 1/2 pages

~

Life was full of twists and turns, (Y/N) had found. It would throw you a curveball whenever it got the chance - it always kept you on your feet. For (Y/N), the most memorable examples of this they ha was either been when they found out about their DOOMs, when they had found and lost their best friend, or when Higgs had literally blipped into their life and proceeded to stay there permanently, no matter how many times they had tried to push him away. Soon after, once they had gotten accepting, and further comfortable, with Higgs’ presence - life had yet again thrown them yet another sudden turn of events and they lost him. 

So, if they had been asked, prior to this moment, if they thought life would proceed to flip their life upside down again - they probably should have answered with a logical “yes”, when they would have likely had said; “most definitely the fuck not”.

“You’re Amelie.”

The woman nodded, head bowing just slightly as her hands clasped in front of her. She looked far more normal than (Y/N) had expected. They always assumed that she would look ethereal - like some floating, nearly see-through form. But, the longer they stared at her, the longer they realized how human she looked. Natural and comfortable in her skin, living, and breathing. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, (Y/N).” She sounded so pleasant, voice light and easy - calm. She didn’t look scared or concerned like (Y/N) was at being here, though (Y/N) guessed she wouldn’t. It was well known that Amelie was tied to the Beach. 

“Uh… It’s nice to meet you too.” They cleared their throat, looking around at the Beach before giving a soft nod in Amelie’s direction. “Um, quick question, nothing too big. Am I dead?” They finally looked at Amelie, gauging for any reaction that would support the question, as their heart started slowly increasing in tempo.

Were they going to necrotize? Cause a Void Out? Was their home going to be destroyed? Were they going to become a BT?

“No. No, you’re alive. We are on your Beach, but you’re very much alive.” Amelie went to continue to speak but seemed to hesitate. Mouth closing with a soft ‘hm’ as she looked down for a moment. “You’re still in your bed, it’s just your mind that’s here.”

(Y/N) nodded as if they understood.

“Okay. That’s good.” They looked around at the Beach again. Arms crossed over their chest and shoulders slightly hunched up. The question hadn’t calmed them down nearly as much as they had hoped. If anything, it only brought up more questions. Why were they here? Why was Amelie of all people wanting to talk to them? How the fuck did she know their name?

Amelie seemed to understand what was going through (Y/N)’s mind before (Y/N) could even begin to voice their thoughts. “I know this must be a lot to process right now, but I didn’t have any other way of talking to you privately.”

“I-” They blinked, hand threading through their hair and scratching the base of their skull as they shook their head. Their heart was still thumping rapidly in their chest, emotions frazzled as they didn’t know whether to focus on the confusion, fear, or the array of other emotions that seemed to be flooding their system in quick succession. After everything they had been through in the past month, the added turn of events left their brain void of anything other than abstract thoughts and a wordless “??”. 

Gods how they needed just one break for one fucking day. “Why-uh…” They huffed out a breath of frustration, lips pursing as they tried to find the ability to talk normally. “Why would you need to talk to me?” They stopped, thinking for a split second before shaking their head. “Scratch that, how the hell do you know my name?” 

“Higgs.” Her voice was soft, though it didn’t lessen the power that the word held. It stopped them dead in their blurred and chaotic thoughts. Slowed their brain down as they tried to process why Amelie brought him up. Nothing was coming up when they tried to think about what to say. How to react. Their hand fell from the back of their hand and wrapped itself around the wrist of their other arm. 

There was a lot that kept (Y/N) up at night when they thought about Higgs. One of the most prominent was the idea that, even after Higgs’ had ended their… thing, someone could still find out about them and Higgs, and subsequently that they actively befriended him  - to some degree, at least. Everything they had would have been gone in a moments notice. Lost in the blink of an eye - life gone forever whether in death or imprisonment.

Fear was trickling in. Potent and aggressive. 

“What about him?” Their voice was far more neutral than they thought it would be when compared to their racing mind and heart, and they tried to fight any outward expression of fear at the doubtful and considerate look that Amelie pointed at them. 

They shivered, arms crossing tightening around their stomach as the cold sea air slowly got to them. Seeping into their arms and parts of their legs that their pyjamas didn’t cover. They couldn’t stand still, weight moving from on leg to the other in an attempt to calm the increasing energy in their body. Feet digging into the cold and damp sand.

Amelie sighed, a look of understanding washing over her features as she gave a soft nod and a comforting smile. 

“I know you were close to him. That you two share a... special bond. I’m not here to punish you, or to get information from you, I just-” She stopped, a look of guilt and disappointment, which (Y/N) could only assume was for herself, washed over her features. “I have to rewrite some of my wrongs, but I can’t without your help. Higgs… He’s in trouble.”

And there, yet again, was another flip on everything that (Y/N) had ever thought or assumed. Their body froze, shoulders stiffening and arms slacking as they tried to grapple at the last bit of logic and understanding they had. Amelie knew that they were once close with him, but rather than punish them, or use them against him, she wanted their help in saving him? Why would she want to save him of all people?

When forced to describe what they assumed Amelie and Higgs were when compared to each other, (Y/N) would say that they were the Yin and the Yang of the growing tensions of the world. Higgs didn’t believe in redemption, in saving what he deemed a doomed world and its doomed people. To him, the world was falling apart already, and sticking around for another few thousand years was futile if the end result was the same. He fought against Amelie, had caused so much destruction and pain to try and stop Amelie’s attempts to rebuilding the country. Amelie should have been relieved that he was in danger and the prospect of him being taken out of the picture. She should been relieved at the thought that he wouldn’t be able hurt anyone else, and that she could continue rebuilding America. She shouldn’t have wanted to save a man who had taken so much away from her.

Their eyes narrowed and scanned her face, trying to find the slightest tell of manipulation and lying, or the slightest indication as to why Amelie was saying this or felt compelled to do such a thing. This must be a setup of some kind. There was no possible reason they could find that would explain why she would want to save him.

“Why do you care?” 

The question hung in the air for a moment as Amelie seemed to think it over.

She had begun to pace. Hands moving along with what she said as she looked anywhere but (Y/N). She looked… scared. Her resolve seemed to be slipping away, shoulders tight and jaw grinding just slightly. The calmness and poise was fading away to show something far more raw and real.

“I’m not proud of what I have done in my past. I have hurt and killed out of selfish ambition, I have abused my power… I used a broken man in a miscalculated assumption that I would be able to avoid my part in everything” Her eyes were distant and clouded, a concoction of emotions that blended together into an undefinable mass. She stopped pacing. Head bowing before she turned her back to them and faced the ocean. 

“I’ve lied to the person I love the most, and hurt him in far more ways than I want to admit.” She stayed silent for a moment, hands coming together in front of her as the inhaled a shaky breath. Eventually, she turned around, her face back to some form of neutrality. “If I’m to try and save everyone, I want to save everyone. Higgs has done so much damage and I had only encouraged it, given him the ability to believe it was right. He… deserves redemption.

“I saw how he changed as he got to know you. How he became hesitant and unsure in his actions. I assumed it was for the best if you weren’t tied to him.”

(Y/N) searched Amelie’s eyes, trying to find an answer that wasn’t veiled or worded to hide a fact that they were just beginning to see. Amelie had been tied to Higgs, but how? Why? “Why are you telling me all this? Why-” (Y/N)’s voice rose, anger and confusion reaching their peak as (Y/N) tried to get more information out of her. 

“I’m sorry.” Amelie stopped them before they could continue, a hand rising up to prevent them from speaking as she shook her head. Her voice had gone up in pitch, veiled panic hidden in her voice as she continued to speak before (Y/N) could get a word in. “We don’t have the time- I don’t have the time, to explain everything. I wish I did. But everything is slowly coming to the end.”

She walked towards them, ambition in each step as she quickly took one (Y/N)’s hand before they could move away. “You must find Higgs. Before it’s too late.”

“How?” (Y/N) felt so lost, adrift in the ocean rather than stuck on the Beach, as they tried to get something - anything more out of Amelie. 

Amelie’s smile was watery this time, genuine and sad. It was such a mixture of emotions that left (Y/N) void of words. (Y/N) didn’t know which one to focus on, but they could tell that this meeting was coming to a close, and through the rush of questions and panic they felt, Amelie spoke again. 

“Jump.”

[dreamlikeapsycho]

I saw the max facts (pun intended 😂) you did for that question a while ago. So I was wondering if maybe you could tell us some more facts about Max it doesn’t have to be anything too detailed but anything you know would be nice to know, pretty please 😊

Okay... RANDOM FACTS ABOUT MAX - PART 2

I went on deep analysis mode this time to try and say all of Max's little nice and cute moments I know of.. Pls take notice, tho!! I'm not trying to flex or anything, I'm just a simple peasant girl on Maximilian's kingdom for a long time and it happens I have FBI blood in my veins 😭 so It's all gather on my brain and hard drive lol SO! I'm just answering this ask with a lot of thought and care so you can know more about Max and how he is even more awesome than you think!!! (And just in text form, cause Max doesn't need to be tagged on more personal stuff on IG (there’s too much illegal fishing at my tumblr pond already! 👏). It’s probably weird to know certain things, yes, but at least I'm respectful, I'll never bother him with this kind of stuff). Well, enjoy the bible below to end up knowing very little about him, still haha.. Just some more small facts.

- Max was at a barbecue just yesterday. It was someones birthday from the set of his new movie. He drank his beer, like usual, idk about the meat.. there was wurst and chicken.. I'm not sure if he's trying to be a vegetarian or not (after that thoughtful video he posted) 🤔.. maybe he didn't eat it, I don't know!!

- a little while before the start of this shooting, he was at the Baltic Sea filming for the series he's gonna be in (just one episode again! Don't get your hopes too high lol he's gonna be a security guard who disappears mysteriously, so....)

- He helped his friend renovate his house a few weeks ago!! How could I forget that on the first post.. Then, he had to go to Hesse for the movie shooting, and his friend had to call another friend to come help him lmao damn

I think I could describe some videos I have then... at least there's some cool and funny stuff. (Friends himself tagged in the past and cast friends)

- Max's dad went to the same uni as him. Also, he voiced a police officer on the phone in a short film Max wrote and directed all by himself (he didn't act on it, but he was also another police officer over the phone haha). Another thing, his dad made the official music for one of his plays.

- The falafel day.. his friend was taking a piss filming Max at the shop from afar and zooming in, saying "omg, guys! I found Noah from Dark! He's right there buying falafel" lmao, then, Max is just standing there looking all wonderful with his perfect hair and such, moving his hands, scratching his chin, ordering his food, and his friend talks some more, doing like a rough Max voice "yeah yeah, I'll have that one. Good, yeah". 😂

- the day he went to take a walk in nature. His friend asks him for a cigarette, he is denied, he goes to take it anyway, Max slams his cup of tea on the table and tries to take his cigarette back and it's all black and they're just laughing lmao (I love his laugh btw, so giggly!)

There was storys posted by Max himself.. so, maybe you saw it, but it's from before dark s3 came out.

- The pigeon storys. He filmed two pigeons chasing each other at the station, one always running from the other and he captioned "me trying to flirt" haha

- He screen recorded an ad for an app that deletes people from pictures and made some joke too, I can't remember exactly what he wrote, smt like "when you break up, but still wants to keep the picture" lol also, he unfollowed like 5 people that week after posting that... hm 👀

- he posted a video of him walking in the dark with really cold wind.. you can only see his hair flying around. Also, with a mask on, another chasing a cat in a big field, and that one drinking his coffee and eating his yogurt (you most likely saw it already)

- Ohh.. His friend was playing Max's drums the other day!!! Made a lot of jokes, it was obvious he was messing around in Max's room (maybe they live together, maybe he just waters the plants lol idk). Some of the jokes were "I've been playing this drums since 1921" and "the drums and me are a perfect pair, don't ever believe otherwise". I wonder what Max said to him.. he can't do anything about it, he's not in Berlin hahah. He has a little giraffe in his room, and other home decors (you can see it on his drumming video on his own IG)

- he likes to read on longer train rides.

- there's a video of him screaming inside a wardrobe after being jumped by a friend and one of him putting lipstick on with the song "I'm a sexy motherfucker" playing in the background hehe we was tagged, it was easy to find when there wasn't much tagged post.

- There's moments of ppl filming something/themselves and he just comes and photobombs it lol he is just like thiss 👏 showing his tongue and doing a funny face and such. One of those I saw it on the IG of a Das Boot cast member I actually already followed before.

- this group was such a blast. There's a few pictures, one of them he's in a dress, he has white stockings on til his thighs, heels and all haha lovely

- His improv-group.. he was almost in tears singing "I believe I can fly" with the group on their last day.. But he was happy! A mix of emotions. He loves everyone, he expresses his love a lot to people in general, he says it and adds heart emojis to make sure haha you can see his comments going on IG of his cast friends, especially from Das Boot (I followed a lot of the guys). So, about always commenting something funny on people's posts.. I didn't saved those, so I forgot most of it, but one I remember was that someone posted a video of a hailstorm and he was like "what are u doing, free ice!! Go grab them" hahaha

- Max has that Noah picture where he's peaking by a wall (you know that one Baran posted) printed and framed! 👏

- Things he’s pretty much always with: his backpack and his big headphones (it's always on his neck. At almost every picture, from every year, with different people etc. I was confused when he had normal headphones at his farm storys. Maybe he forgot them in Berlin 😭. Besides those, his rings, necklaces and bracelets (always, for years and years! Same ones, even). He uses frequently on premieres, as I saw it. Sometimes they also show up on his characters in his one-episode works!! Hahah is so nice when that happens. You can notice this on my screencaps.

- that pic of him that is everywhere now (with glasses, holding a bottle of champagne), I posted that months ago.. There's 2 more pics and 1 video. One pic, he is pretending the automatic lighter that's on the table is a Harry Potter wand (but I think I cropped the table, right.. I can't remember). This was actually posted by Max himself and he tagged his friend who took it. I went to see if they posted smt and there was a picture where he is literally biting the cork of that bottle off with his teeth Lmaoo, and one video.. he is talking on the phone trying to block the view with his feet.. this man!!

- he really doesn't care about buying too much unnecessary clothes and shoes and stuff. He is mindful of his things and the environment!! 

- there's a video of him on the set of Der Zauberlehrling, I need to recall where I got that from (maybe I could share this one. I'm not sure), he is messing with the broom and someone asks him "hey Max, what's that animal?" and points to the fluffy microphone. He says "it's a fucked up coala bear" (in english) 😂

Again.. I can't say names or anything, cause ppl are not mindful! Like.. I know I'm probably weird, but only for myself and my FBI office LOL I don't go over there and follow/reply to all these people’s posts and storys or take their videos and tag Max on them, this is just not.... nah. I'll always be respectful (yeah, some older stuff has gifs, cause he had like 10k followers, and 5 fans on tumblr lol But i never sent/tag him in anything personal directly.. that’s why i only posted on tumblr for the past year, in fact! I never thought things would be the way they are now a year later.. so, newer stuff it's not posted/gif nor ever will). I don't want him to be weirded out and like, disappear from IG!! I think about these things.. when people are being weird and stuff towards him. I don’t know how ppl don’t think about this when tagging him recklessly in random pictures and videos!!!

I wish he had more interviews, so we could know more proper stuff about him. (The few interviews he has are translated on my IG highlight. There's still an 8min interview missing there, cause I'm contemplating about being more of a bother to german speaking people, since I only have basic german..

[curse-of-the-dark-emerald]

Curse of the Dark Emerald, chapter 3.

Back at Green Hill, Tom tossed a few times in his bed, trying so hard to get to sleep. But everything he tried, he couldn’t shut off his brain. He glanced at Maddie, her back facing the opposite of his gaze, she didn’t seem to be bothered or notice his restlessness.

He gave up trying to ignore the growing worry for Sonic. Tom pushes the blanket away and stands up slowly, making sure not to disturb his wife.

“I’m overthinking, I’m overthinking…”

Tom left his room and went to the ladder and stairway to the attic, and stood on the spot, deciding if checking on him was really a good idea this late in the night. He scratches his hair nervously and it thought, it was now or never. Tom was inches off from touching the floorboards, but stopped.

Tom shook his head and sighs heavily “I’m such a worry-wart.”

Tom gets back in his room and glances at the alarm clock on his nightstand; reading 2:32 am. He needed to be up in 4 hours for work, and this wasn’t helping him. Tom gets back in bed and just after a few minutes, he finally goes into slumber.

…

Sonic awoke and jolted his body up, eyes flashing to ocean blue for a moment and froze.

“Where-? I was..”

Immediately, confusion settled in and he sluggishly stood up, and made a run for it, only to be hit face-first into a wall of glass. “Ack!!”

Taking a moment to actually scan his surroundings, he saw a new opening, Sonic made another leap and ran to escape, only to have the same result. He continued to ram himself  into the walls though he knew it wasn’t working, each time it put his body in pain, each time he cried and yelled at every hit.

“Hey!! Anyone there?!”

Sonic’s heart began to throb and race against his chest, his eyes frantically looking for a way out, he jumped the highest he possibly could, reaching under 15 feet but it was still too high to climb or reach. Sonic grit his teeth and more panic took over. He pounded his hands on the glass, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to not be afraid, and the one person who could be responsible for all this…

“You’re awake?”

A voice on speaker somewhere within this glass prison crackles, Sonic looks up, a man with somewhat dark skin, a short beard, and gentle smile stares back.

“Good to see you’re still alive, what was your name again? Sonic?”

Sonic only glares at the man, teeth grinding, “Who are you?”

“I’m Agent Stone, close assistant to someone you...should already know.” Stone nods his head at Sonic, in a pleasant demeanor.

“Yeah, I pieced that together, right before you knocked me out.” Sonic’s voice turns sharp and cold at him.

“Don’t worry about my boss, he’s not actually here at the moment.” Stone gestured with his hand, “You’ll just be with me for now.”

“You think I’m gonna just sit in your little fish aquarium, and you what? Drown me?” Sonic retorts, keeping one brow raised at Stone.

“Jeez, someone’s a little morbid.” Stone panned, and shook his head. “No, Sonic. I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that...you know..” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Anyways, my mission is half finished; you were pretty easy to catch as long as I wasn’t seen by you. And might as well tell you why you’re here: Your purpose is to simply charge power to my bosses machines. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Sonic caught a glimpse of something in Stone’s expression, was it doubt, or fear? He didn’t sound all that convinced to himself. Sonic noticed that he didn’t have the Rings with him or the Emerald anymore, creating a painful knot in his stomach.

“Damn it..”

Bzzt -”Hurry up, Stone, or else I’ll finish you off first.”-

Stone flinched and hastily started pushing buttons. Sonic’s ears twitch at the voice from the speaker, he knew that voice and confirmed it,

“It IS Eggman. But where??” He tried to look for his enemy, but saw him nowhere.

Sounds of whirring and machinery became louder, making the glass tube he was contained in to vibrate. Sonic knew he was in serious trouble, he desperately looked for a way out. Cursing at himself that he should’ve been more careful in the first place…Stone was concentrated on the dash in front of him, jumpstarting the necessary power and programs to begin whatever it was Sonic feared he was going to do. After a few more moments, Stone grins.

“Finished that. You ready, Sonic?”

Sonic glares at him again.

“Good enough.”

Stone holds up a bright, green object in his hand, “I assume you already know what this thing is?”

Sonic’s eyes went wide and gasped. “The...Chaos Emerald?”

“Sure, if that's what you wanna call it.” Stone shrugged, and left his spot.

Sonic’s weary gaze never left following the accomplice of his enemy, as he carried the Emerald.

“I ran a small test on this object, it has a lot of radioactive-like energy, but not toxic in any shape or form so I can touch it, it seems. You, and it should be enough to complete the procedures.”

He climbed on an upper catwalk that Sonic could see enough to watch him. Stone opened a metal door to a new chamber with a wide window; and set the Emerald in the center of the chamber on top of a flat surfaced support beam. Stone quickly returns to his original post.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Sonic spat sharply.

“Oh, I know.” Agent makes a brief smile at him while he glances at Sonic, then focuses back on the control panel.

“Don't worry, I’ll make it quick. I honestly am impressed with how brave you are. If this goes smoothly, you might live.”

What’s with this guy? He’s definitely not like Eggman, so he’s kind of nice..?

Sonic blinks rapidly, trying to not fall for this man’s showcase of kindness and complements.

“Yet, I’m here, because I was so stupid.” Sonic’s voice trembles, it was low enough for Stone to not hear it.

“Initiating power-point.”

A cool, robotic voice echoed throughout, Sonic looks at Stone for any changes, or any chance this man might change his mind and let him go, but he could tell Stone was now avoiding any eye contact. Sonic’s head dipped down. He sat on his knees, his soft ears drooping downward.

“Powering at 20%...”

“I’m so stupid…”

The machines began to point lasers at the Chaos Emerald in the other room, a metal prong touches the top of it, getting ready to extract and connect it to the machines Stone desired to make stronger for his Master.

“Powering at 50%”

“I’ll never see them again.”

Sonic closed his eyes, head still down looking like a wounded puppy. He’d forgotten at the moment where he was and what was about to happen. His thoughts went to Tom and Maddie, missing their smiles. Their laughter, their hugs.

“Powering at 75%..”

“I HATE myself…” Sonic makes a guttural growl in his throat.

In the chamber with the Chaos Emerald...the vibrant green color in it’s center fades briefly to a darker shade of emerald green. Then for a second, to a grayish black. And back to it’s normal green. Sparks of its energy popped in the air, making the window nearby actually crack from the inside.

“90%”

Stone only saw for a second Sonic unresponsive with his head bent down. He wished he didn’t. His own chest tightened with what he tried to hold back: guilt. He pushed the turmoil away to finish what he started, placing his hand on the trigger to start the extraction.

“93%”

Sonic knew he was going to die. In what he felt would be his final moments, his mind flashes countless images of his guardians. Every moment he spent with them was the happiest he had ever felt. He would have given anything to be with them again, talk to them..let them know he was leaving for good. That bare minimum of time he wished he could have, would never come to be.

“I hate myself…” A single tear rolled down Sonic’s cheek.

The Chaos Emeralds hue began to fade….

“Power, complete.”

Stone pulls the trigger. Sparks of white electricity light up at the top of the holding chamber to Sonic’s prison and they plunged downwards through the glass.

Sonic let out a blood curdling scream. He lurches his body up, seizing from the pain caused by the machines.

“UUUAAAAGGHH!!”

Stone watched the monitor closely,  scanning the amount of power being taken away from the Chaos Emerald and from Sonic simultaneously. A digital scale on the monitors revealed a blue colored energy leaving Sonic’s small body, and from the Chaos Emerald, it’s own separate energy was, he saw, destabilizing. Stone hoped it wouldn’t overflow too much.

Sonic slumps over and then falls to the floor, letting his arms support him up. He grit his teeth so hard he thought his jaw was going to break. The Emerald loses all traces of its green color and begins to morph out wisps of black smoke, becoming dark.

Suddenly, something was happening.

Stone finally looked at Sonic and his eyes grew large at what he began to witness…

Still screaming in agony, Sonic glared at Stone with the most enraged and angry scowl.  He put his hands on his head, shaking uncontrollably, while his muscles and body throbbed and wriggled.. Sonic’s teeth began to enlarge into sharp, longer fangs, his sky blue fur darkens to navy. His gloves rip and become torn apart revealing elongating claws at his fingertips and tufts of long, white fur breaks through the skin of both his wrists. The rest of his entire body shifts into a bigger build and height. Sonic’s sneakers were still intact, but metal spikes poked out from it’s material. His once neatly, smooth quills began to grow longer, with coarse, white fading tips at the end. Still shaking from the pain, Sonic let out a ferocious roar.

“I’LL KILL YOU!”

Stone realizes he was not safe anymore and makes a run for it.

Sonic has had enough, and with his sheer strength alone, breaks his prison of glass walls into thousands of pieces, shattering the entire tube. He jumps out, hand outreaching for his enemy, wanting to tear out his throat. Sonic looks everywhere for Stone, wanting his blood. This new desire didn’t make him question what he was thinking, he wanted to kill and slice something, no matter what it was.

Briefly coming to his senses, he growled in annoyance and went to the other room with the Chaos Emerald, he smashed the window from outside, and furiously grabbed it back in his possession. Along the way, his eyes spotted his pouch of Rings sitting close to where Stone had been standing before.

“You’re lucky Stone. Maybe next time you catch me, you won't be.” Sonic sneers to himself, his green eyes narrowed into slits.

Sonic jumps high and breaks through the metal enclosed ceiling, finally free. He roared again, letting out his anger and fear from being captured. The now full moon shone and bathed him in its light, revealing the new beastly shape in its wake. Sonic lands and runs, noticing he wasn’t going as fast like he usually does, but pushes that aside. Still angered and hurt by what had become of him, he howled like a lone wolf in the night. None of this made him question it; to him it felt natural and as if he was like this his whole life. The Sonic he had always known as himself was swallowed aside. After calming down just a little, Sonic had stopped running and walked at a regular pace. His mind was in a daze and then he remembered what was most important:

He held the blackened Chaos Emerald above his head, a fascination washed over him, it’s current presence was an entirely different entity. But he was happy it wasn’t in his enemy’s hands. Sonic holds it tightly and in the other hand he opened the pouch for his Rings and takes one,

“I have to..to get home-“

An explosion to his right side blows dirt on him and he jumped, scared out of his skin. Sonic growls, his anger returns again and a white, egg shaped robot hovering above him. Several were along with the one that made the first explosion.

“UGH!!! Leave me ALONE!!”

More of the robots fired at different times and Sonic evades every one, tired of being reminded and chased by the one who has tried and failed to kill him he leaps into the air, grabs the nearest bot and squeezes it into his chest, crushing it to pieces. Not wanting to prolong this stupid fiasco, Sonic makes a run for it, the bots follow and continue to fire at him mercilessly. Sonic tosses the golden ring that he depended on to save himself, his expression desperate to survive.

The ring opens, on the other side was the one place he called his home and jumped in; but a robot had managed to land a strike on his back, before cutting off the rest of the fleet. Sonic lands on his chest.

“Ugh…” Sonic winced at the new injury he was slapped with. He weakly sees the house just before him.

“Tom..!” He cried in a broken voice.

He needed to see his best friend. He needed to get to him. But, the cruelty of the long night had taken a toll on his strength; and Sonic had given up trying to stand up.

He wasn’t far from the patio of the house; the front door opened and Tom closed it behind him. He turns to see a patch of blue fur, it was Sonic lying on the ground, he froze in horror and drops his car keys. 

“S-Sonic!?”

“Donut lord..” Sonic called Tom's nickname, he felt a little sense of relief to see him.

“What happened?! What-“ Tom pauses and finally sees what had become of Sonic, he was almost unrecognizable; the fur, claws, and teeth gave it all away, his arms and back were almost covered in blood from cuts and little pieces of glass sparkled faintly on his messy fur.

“What happened to you?” Tom breathes out a scared, and shaky voice.

Sonic was too weak to answer, and he finally passed out. Tom turned him over on his back, listening for his heart beat, and it was moderately beating, to his hopes. The sun begins to rise and it’s light crept onto Sonics hand and on Tom, welcoming the new morning. Sonic’s body spits out purple wisps of an unknown energy to Tom, engulfing the hedgehog until it vanishes, and Sonic's appearance returns to his normal blue fur.

Tom turns in different directions to see if anything was watching him and he picks up Sonic, and carries him into the house to treat his wounds. 

[mariephillipswriter]

Square Eyes

Do they still say that if you watch too much television you'll get square eyes? Or is that an expression that went out of fashion when kids started spending all their time in front of the internet? Putting aside the obvious riposte (televisions aren't square, they're rectangular) I can report that I have been doing extensive research in this area and have come to the scientific conclusion: no, you won't. I have been watching so much television. SO MUCH TELEVISION. I never believed that I could watch such an immense quantity of television. On the whole I don't watch it during the day except for sometimes when I am having my breakfast and also when having my lunch, but in the evenings, when I have finished pretending to work, I might start watching television at about 6pm, or 5pm, or 4pm on a bad day, and keep going until, say, 11pm or midnight. HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE. HOW CAN A PERSON LIVE THIS WAY. Well it's easy enough, it turns out, if you're under lockdown in London in December and it's dark from 4pm and raining most of the time and you have the emotional resources of a gnat and reading is too demanding and talking on the phone is too exhausting and the light in the living room is not good enough for doing a puzzle in evening hours and you quit social media a month or so ago because it was driving you out of your mind with anxiety. I don't watch six or seven or eight hours of television every night. Don't be ridiculous. Some nights I only watch about three hours of television because I have a Zoom call or I'm cooking dinner or I've got stuck into a good cryptic crossword, maybe the Saturday Times Jumbo one because the Guardian ones are too gimmicky, or at last I've found a book gripping yet easy enough that I can't put it down (thank you Robert Galbraith, thank you Marian Keyes), but I would say that three hours is the minimum and my god that is a LOT. EVERY DAY. THREE HOURS. MINIMUM. But you don't need to me to explain that to you because you are all watching three four five six seven hours of television every day and when you are not watching television you are phoning your friends and first of all talking about the specific way that your own personal lockdown is terrible but then eventually saying 'what are you watching on television' because what else is there even to talk about? At the start of lockdown there was quite a small pool of television that everyone was watching (that thing about the Tiger King, which I didn't watch because by the time I got back from my early lockdown in Costa Rica you'd all seen it, and Normal People which I didn't watch because I was too embarassed to sit through all the sex scenes with my flatmates, and I May Destroy You, which I didn't watch because about five minutes of it was enough to send me into a massive panic spiral, but I hear was very good), but once we had all (other than me) got through that and Covid dragged on for months, our conversations began taking on the tenor of Vikings crowding around one another as a boat returns from a foray, WHAT IS OUT THERE, WHAT DID YOU FIND OUT THERE, IS THERE SOMETHING OUT THERE THAT I MIGHT DESIRE? And the Viking says yes, there is this thing called Schitts Creek but you really have to push on through the first season because I promise you it gets better and better and you will start to love that obnoxious family. And then we all watched Schitts Creek. (Including me, it's wonderful, you have to push on through the first series you will start to love that obnoxious family, Dan Levy is a divinity in human form and if you want more of him you could do worse than checking out the lesbian Christmas-themed romcom Happiest Season, which you can rent from Amazon Prime.) And now we are beyond even that and all our lives resonate with the screeching sound of a televisual barrel being scraped and now this is when things get really interesting (or put another way, VERY VERY BORING) because everyone has fractured and we are all watching different kinds of random stuff found in the dusty corners and unloved algorithms of our streaming services. There's the friend who has got into watching obscure French crime series on Netflix (The Chalet! La Mante!) and the friend who is watching every episode of Poirot on Britbox (thirteen series, 70 episodes) (though that pales in comparison with the friend who did a total rewatch of Friends from beginning to end (236 episodes) and finished it ages ago and is starving for more) and the friend who calls me up seemingly every week with a new old show nobody else has ever heard of (such as the early 1990s Nigel Havers and Warren Clarke comedy spy drama Sleepers, which he is watching old-school-style on DVD, and which apparently is like The Americans only with Nigel Havers and funny, and also, you should watch The Americans.) When I look back on the amount of television I have watched this year it defies comprehension. There were the things I would have watched anyway like the whole of Strictly Come Dancing and His Dark Materials, and the things that took me by surprise, like the stealthily hilarious Danny Dyer gameshow The Wall that was on straight after Strictly and drove me into a total obsession with the way that Danny Dyer says "Drop 'Em" (he's talking about the balls that are dropped down the wall, it's hard to explain, you can find it on iPlayer, but meanwhile if you only click on one link in this whole newsletter PLEASE click on that one), there were the things that were created especially to get me through lockdown (the wonderful David Tennant and Michael Sheen Zoom comedy Staged, which is not only extremely funny but allows you to see inside David Tennant's house which I'm not sure I am technically allowed to watch because of the restraining order? Anyway, new series coming on Monday, fellow DT fans) and the familiar things I watched to soothe me when it all got too much (Doctor Who, starting before Tennant even gets in on the action, right at the begining of the New Who seasons with Christopher Eccleston, because armchair space travel is the only kind of travel we are going to be getting for a while) and the exciting things I watched when I could no longer bear the tedious repetition of every identical day (Line of Duty, in which the famous-for-the-far-inferior Bodyguard writer Jed Mercurio delivers ludicrously compelling twisty-turny stories about police corruption that cannot be predicted for even a nanosecond) and the things that I watched just because I loved them (Fosse/Verdon, the Bob Fosse and Gwen Verdon bio-series starring the breathtakingly charismatic Sam Rockwell and Michelle Williams, which is one of the best-made pieces of television I've ever seen, Love Life, the Anna Kendrick romantic comedy series which was surprisingly touching and truthful about the relationships that make up a life and which didn't make me want to open a vein as a single person the way that many looking-for-love shows do, and Better Things, a sort-of-comedy sort-of-drama written, directed by and starring Pamela Adlon, which began as a collaboration with Louis CK and initially reflected the sensibility of his show Louie, but became far more experimental and interesting once, after CK's disgrace, Adlon took over completely - the fourth series is maybe the closest thing I've seen on TV to a representation of the rhythms of real life, with long scenes of Adlon just cooking a meal on her own, or contemplating the rain, of having arguments with her children that explode from nowhere and end just as suddenly with tears or laughter or nothing at all.) And this entire paragraph is just things that I have watched on the BBC. Not even everything that I have watched on the BBC. The BBC is INCREDIBLE and my license fee has been serious value for money, before you even count all that time spent watching the news [Munch Scream emoji]. But overall, it doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of television that I have watched this year. Though while we're here, have you noticed that sometimes it's more relaxing to watch something bad than something good? Have you noticed that a vapid, cliched show like Virgin River (heartbroken city nurse with a secret moves to small town and falls in love with battle-wounded bartender with a secret), a show that makes This Is Us look like Succession, has the same effect on your brain that taking off your work shoes and putting on your slippers has for your feet? You can rest now, it says, there is nothing more for you to do. Have you noticed how easy it is to chug down, say, four episodes in a row of Designated Survivor - a show designed by a committee charged with taking elements of The West Wing, Homeland and 24, and making something similar but, crucially, much more ridiculous - without your mind even noticing that anything has happened at all? And if you're really ready for something utterly idiotic, might I suggest The Bold Type, in which three twentysomething girls in bonkers designer outfits "work" at an aspirationally "feminist" glossy magazine, and by "work" I mean constantly leave the office in the middle of the day to take care of personal business, and by "feminist" I mean "empowering women by for example having them post selfies of themselves looking perfect but without makeup on social media", a feminism so very feminist that they called the magazine's parent company Steinem in the first series and then had to change it to Safford, I can only presume because Gloria Steinem threatened to sue them. A couple of episodes of that is the televisual equivalent of having a nice relaxing full frontal lobotomy. Don't get me wrong: I love these shows. I owe them more gratitude than I can say. I would be unable to survive without them. I've managed to watch five hours of television just since starting this post24 hours ago (three episodes of Doctor Who, half a really cheap and very bad Sky Arts documentary about the musical Hamilton, and a travelogue in which Torvill and Dean go in search of a frozen lake in Alaska on which to dance Bolero but can't find one for almost the entire show because of global warming, which made me simultaneously and conflictingly want to give up air travel, fly to Alaska immediately, become obsessed with Torvill and Dean AND wonder how they managed to skate together all these decades without killing each other especially Torvill but also especially Dean). Five hours of TV, sounds like a lot, but with eight hours of sleep, that still left me eleven hours to fill in this boring boring boring boring BORING BORING BORING boring boring BORING boring BORING BORING lockdown. I think I am being incredibly restrained, all things considered. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some time to kill, having finished writing this post, and with at least five hours to fill before bed. I wonder what's on TV?

***

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[hqprotectionsquad]

Sunlight (Kunimi x Reader)

Title: Sunlight Ship: Kunimi x Reader Word Count: 1,568 Summary: Kunimi takes you home after he is dragged on a double date with Oikawa and his crush.  A/N: cross posted from my Wattpad!

Kunimi leans into the desk chair, scanning the classroom. Deep breath in, deep breath out. No need for anyone to see that he is having an internal breakdown. His face is stone-cold, with his eyes as dull as usual, but his head is clattered with memories and thoughts, and most importantly, a realization that shook his form in the first place: he developed feelings for you.

For him, this is huge. He hasn't had a crush since junior high, and even then, he found the idea of a prospering relationship too much to handle. Now, while his perspective toward romance has matured, he wants his feelings to be like milk, spoiled once exposed to the elements. He just needs a few reasons to create a barrier between his brain and his heart. Maybe you have a bad habit of dog-earring your pages or you chew too loud or you tend to speak on the sarcastic side. Something. Anything.

Volleyball practice arrives and Kunimi pinpoints the original source of the "problem," as he wants to call this thing that's taken over his mind. This man with perfectly styled hair is ultimately the reason why you and your best friend even come to the volleyball games and while it isn't as hard to talk to Ritsuko, you are a little more difficult, only because Kunimi can't look at you in the eyes. Oikawa approaches Kunimi at the end of practice, glowing and glistening instead of appearing sweaty like everyone else. "Kunimi-chan, will you be meeting up with me, (L/N)-chan, and Ri-chan after we finish here today? I could use a friend to help me seal the deal with Ri-chan and she'll only come if (L/N)-chan comes."

Kunimi slings the towel around the crook of his elbow but all he really wants to do with the sweat-sopped thing is throw it into Oikawa's face. Is he really indirectly pushing the limits to his brain? Oikawa wouldn't know anything about it but Kunimi has nothing to do today and his mom is always nagging him to spend time with his friends instead of reading inside or peppering a volleyball by himself. Kunimi replies coolly, "Sure. What are we doing?"

"Cafe study date, of course!" Oikawa sips from his water bottle, but the corner of his lips form a grin. "I hope we do more talking than studying but you never know. Ri-chan and (Y/N)-chan are so studious sometimes."

"I see." Kunimi nods and gathers his things. "I'll meet you in twenty."

"Okay!" Oikawa's thumb and index finger meet to make a circle. "Say hi to them if you see them before I do! They'll be stopping by the gym. See you!"

Once Kunimi gets into the shower, he does everything he can to prevent himself from banging his head against the tiled wall. The water from the shower head rolls onto his body, then off into the drain. Why did he even agree to this? He is just going to shut off, like the robot everyone says he is. This is a mistake.

"Do you understand what they're talking about?" You lean over to whisper in Kunimi's ear. He shakes his head with a frown in response.

Across the table, your best friend and Oikawa are discussing what seems to be school but also flirting with every other word. You didn't think that was possible up until that moment. Ri-chan always goes for the studious kind, which is kind of the reason why you were so skeptical when she asked you to accompany her to this study session. Oikawa never struck you as the smart guy, but here you were, proven wrong, apparently. Kunimi, on the other hand, is quiet, but it appears that he cares a lot about his grades because he actually is studying for an exam he has next week, according to him.

"What are you working on?" You nudge Kunimi's elbow with yours and at first, it looks like he's about to lash out at you. You scoot into the back of your chair, folding your arms. He doesn't seem invested in his work and he sets his pencil to the side.

"A math assignment." His voice is everything but a murmur. "What are you working on, (L/N)-chan?" Your name doesn't roll off as easy as you thought it would, and you can't help but to wonder if his would sound weird in your mouth too.

"An essay for Japanese literature. I don't really understand it though." Your lips form a thin line before you force yourself to take a sip from your latte. If you were going to spend nearly 600 yen on a drink, you needed to finish it.

"I see." Kunimi nodded and looked outside the window, no longer paying attention to you. You know that he's not an outgoing person, but with Ri-chan and Oikawa doing all sorts of things across the table, you wish you had a more receptive person to the left of you.

Ri-chan pushes herself out of the table with her eyes wide open. "Ah! I need to go pick up Haru-kun!" Her brother, only five, gets picked up. You remember meeting him for the first time and you understand why Ri-chan goes out of her way for her sibling. He is one of the shiest things on this earth.

"Let me come with you, Ri-chan! So that you won't have to go alone." Oikawa suggests with his million-yen smile and she graciously accepts.

"I apologize, Kunimi-san and (Y/N)," Ri-chan's words come out fast and muddled. They bow to the both of you before taking their leave. The bell at the top of the door resounds in your ears over and over. Did that just really happen? You ask yourself. You glance over to Kunimi's expression and it seems that he reacted similarly.

"Er, I suppose I should take you home then." Kunimi offers after noticing your cup drew empty a while ago.

"Yeah, there isn't much point to staying after they've left anyway." You shrug, placing your notebook and pencils back into your school bag. After zipping up and thanking the server for the food and beverages, you motion for him to lead the way out.

He does and he barely looks at you before heading off into a direction. "Kunimi, my house is the other way," you pant after needing to run after him. He isn't necessarily fast, but he is persistent.

"Oh. Okay." To you, it looks like Kunimi is one to only work, but you know from watching him over the year you've known of him that he doesn't even work sometimes. What is the turmoil behind his eyes? What is he thinking about?

This time, you lead the way but you make sure you stand next to him. Now that you're side by side, you need to roll your eyes up to your eyebrows to properly have a look at him. Soft threads of hair, a fit and capable body, but saddest of all, his eyes evoke stirring into your heart. When was the last time someone really got to know him?

"Kunimi-san, if you don't mind me asking," you begin as your scenery changes from the hustle of the city center to the suburbs where most people live. "Do you have friends from outside of the volleyball team?"

"Not really," he replies.

"Why not?"

"I don't go out of my way to make new friends." It is simple and the truth, but it stings your eyes.

"Right." You nod, pushing down the stone in your throat. "Have you ever wanted to become friends with other people?"

"I guess," he mutters as you turn a corner and he follows suit, shoving his hands in his front pockets. "It doesn't really matter to me whether or not I have friends."

"Isn't it a little lonely though?" You prod more, seeing if he'll say anything or do anything. You can't really imagine yourself going further out of your current friend group either, but your group is diverse in all the activities you do. No one person shares all the same ones, which makes conversations exciting.

"Sometimes."

His words trail into a deafening silence. You walk for what you believe is hours and you continue toward your home. The next time he looks at you is when you arrive at the gate of your family home. It is modest, but it is perfect for a family like yours.

"Thank you for bringing me home." You smile as you fish for your keys in your bag, holding out the strap with one hand.

"You're welcome, (L/N)-san." His grin is a ghost, only seen for a second, but you catch it.

"You have a nice smile," you comment softly and shake your head. He isn't looking for new friends, you remind yourself. Your voice raises in dynamics when you say, "So! How far away do you live from here?"

"Maybe...20 minutes." He scratches his head with one of his fingers.

"You should've told me! Your house is far from here!" You go as far as slapping him lightly on the arm, but he doesn't really react.

"It's okay. I wanted to." His small smile returns. The sun streams through the tree on the sidewalk and when it hits Kunimi, it washes over his features with a soft glow. No longer does he look dull, he shines brighter than ever.

[wastingstarlight]

(re-posting because this dumpster fire of a website always messes up formatting when I put read mores in asks 🙃)

raiwalk asked: would it be alright to ask for a fluffy wranduin, for the song prompt?

yes!!! send all the wranduin prompts!!! <3 okay, so i cheated on this one a little bc a lot of the songs on this playlist i had been using are Big Angst™ so i skipped until i found a non-angsty one! ANYWAY thank you so much for the request :’)

(cross-posted to ao3)

///

When I don’t know what to say When I don’t know what to do There’s a room I need to sit in Surrounded by my favorite view And I need a hand to hold Someone to tell the truth Would it be okay if I came home to you?

//

Anduin is having a bad pain day.

They’re fewer and farther between now, but when they do happen, they never fail to knock the wind out of him. He has made so much progress in his recovery but on days like this, he is sharply reminded just how far he has to go.

Tong had been in just after dawn with a pot of tea laced with healing herbs, which had dulled the pain enough for Anduin to doze for a few more hours. Tong must have said something to Wrathion as well because the notoriously inquisitive dragon had not once knocked on his door demanding audience.

It was…nice, Anduin supposed. The quiet. His guards brought him lunch just after midday and he ate alone for the first time in weeks, the only thing filling the silence the muted click of chopsticks on wood.

After, he means to read, goes so far as to open a book in his lap, before dozing again. There had been more healing tea with lunch and with the painkillers came the familiar cotton-headedness.

He is just on the edge of sleep when there is a clatter at his window, a thud on the ground, and there, in all his glory, is Wrathion in whelp form sprawled awkwardly on Anduin’s floor.

There is a sharp knock on his door. “Anduin?” his guard calls out. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Anduin replies, mind whirring as he tried to come up with an excuse through the brain fog. “Just, um, dropped my book.”

After a pause to make sure the excuse worked, Anduin sets the aforementioned book aside and glances back at Wrathion.

“I wanted to check in,” Wrathion says primly, sounding quite diplomatic for a dragon that had just crash-landed into Anduin’s bedroom.

“And you couldn’t use the door?” Anduin replies with a faint grin. The grin fades when his gaze settles on the awkward angle of Wrathion’s left wing. “Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, instinctively feeling out for injury with the Light, before being sharply reminded of how much energy he had been using to keep his own pain at bay. More cautiously, he reaches out with a sliver of Light, just enough to feel the impression of any wounds.

“I,” Wrathion says, lifting his chin defiantly, “may have, hypothetically, accidentally…gotten some burrs stuck on my wings. That I took care of!” he adds hastily, “…with my teeth.”

“What…actually, never mind,” Anduin says, rolling his eyes. He knows better than to ask at this point. “C’mere,” he says, beckoning Wrathion over.

“What?”

“You came here for me to heal you, right? Well, I’m not getting out of bed, so. Come here.”

With a huff, Wrathion pads over. The mattress groans when the dragon jumps onto it. He might have been the size of a particularly large, winged, house cat, but he was certainly more dense than one.

Taking great care to avoid trodding on Anduin’s legs, Wrathion comes to a halt just beside his hip and extends his offending wing.

The scratches are minor, more from the burrs than from Wrathion’s attempt to remove them, and Anduin brushes a gentle hand across the skin of the joint where Wrathion’s wing meets his shoulder, palm infusing with Light as he heals the worst of the damage. Anduin doesn’t think he imagines that Wrathion leans into him.

“One of my champions was telling me about a cave on the northern shore of the Jade Forest,” Wrathion says airily. “Apparently there’s a special type of bioluminescent algae that grow nowhere else in the world but there.”

Anduin smiles, smoothing his hand down the velvety skin of Wrathion’s wing for longer than was strictly necessary. It is fascinating how something so small can be so complex, so powerful. The exhaustion is once again setting in, made stronger by his expenditure of power, but Wrathion’s very Wrathion way of checking in was nonetheless endearing.

“Is that so?” Anduin asks, stifling a yawn.

Wrathion stiffens beside him, folding his wing back in. Anduin hadn’t realized just how heavily Wrathion had been leaning on him until he is gone.

“You should rest. I’ll—“

“No, wait,” Anduin interjects. He hesitates. He doesn’t want Wrathion to go—Anduin has missed his company, though he’d never outright tell him that. “Tell me about the cave,” he murmurs after a heartbeat.

Wrathion tilts his head and narrows his eyes. Apparently he finds whatever he’s looking for because then he huffs and makes a big show out of making himself a comfortable space to settle. Wrathion lets his wings unfold a bit and absently Anduin brings one hand down to stroke the exposed velvety skin.

“Well,” Wrathion starts. “I had sent a pair of champions on a mission—“

Before he knows it, the combination of herbal tea, afternoon sun, and Wrathion’s familiar voice has lulled Anduin away from his aching body and into a mercifully dreamless sleep.

///

Knight-Lieutenant Maren Bristol is not surprised that Anduin doesn’t answer his door when she knocks with his dinner. She is surprised at what she sees when she enters.

Anduin is young, so young, but somehow he looks even younger asleep when the worries of the world don’t line his face. He’s on his side, curled around and with one arm thrown over the sleeping dragon beside him. They are both washed in the golden light of the setting sun.

Maren sets down the tray quietly and can’t help but smile as she leaves.

[choupichoups]

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.6

Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking. Or: Eliott is instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.

He hasn’t heard from Eliott since Sunday. 

The professor’s monotone drawling fades out to the background as Lucas flips between the apps on his phone-- a foolish attempt to keep himself from opening up the one he actually wants to check on.

Eliott hasn’t posted anything since the Saturday they were together.

He contemplates sending a message but he can’t think of a good conversation starter. Saying a simple hello is super lame. Eliott always starts their chats with a clever line. How does he come up with those, anyway? Lucas would really appreciate a little insight right now. 

Lucas barely notices his classmates leaving the room and he scrambles to follow along, pocketing his phone so he’d stop staring at it already. 

He’s only taken a couple of steps outside when a vaguely familiar boy with shaven head almost rams right into him. 

“Shit, sorry!” Lucas steps aside at the last minute and the other boy’s arms do a hilarious windmill to keep balance. Neither of them end up on the floor so that’s awesome.

“Sorry!” The boy shouts back, looking at Lucas with wide eyes and a half formed grin. Lucas flinches, trying to hide the double take he almost does. This guy has the brightest green eyes a stark contrast to his dark skin and a bone structure that can cut glass. If he isn’t so ass over head infatuated with Eliott, his brain would probably register just how beautiful this person is. “Lucas?”

It takes a bit for him to realize that it’s weird how this person correctly guesses his name. “Uh, why?” 

“Idris!” The boy -- Idris? Instagram Idris? -- says, enthusiasm evident in his voice. “I’m Idris, I mean. Eliott sent me.” 

“Eliott... sent you?” Lucas keeps walking, not wanting to block the way to the classroom. Idris keeps up beside him. “But where is he?” 

Idris hands him a cup of hot chocolate-- it’s the one Lucas gets once a month to reward himself for not keeling over in stress. 

“He’s holed up in the library,” Idris says while Lucas’s still blinking down at the cup in his hands. “We have a project due very soon, me and him. We have to finish the storyboard.” 

Okay, it’s been two days though. Lucas just hopes they’re getting enough rest. He’s seen a lot of the other film students walking from building to building like dried up zombies. 

Idris keeps going before Lucas gets a word in. “His phone’s on airplane mode.” Lucas nods, watching Idris rub a hand over the top of his head. “Mine too, we do this thing. So we only focus on one thing at a time, you know.” 

Lucas starts to smile as Idris looks at him, slightly wide-eyed. He has a feeling this guy’s been running on pure caffeine since the weekend. “Okay.”

“My point is, he’s not ignoring you.” 

“I didn’t think so.” 

“Good. God, I told him he’s overreacting.” 

Lucas laughs, holding the hot chocolate to his chest. “He’s doing okay?”

“Yeah,” Idris scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “He forgot to tell you about the whole project thing before, you know, shutting the world out so he’s been freaking out about it.” 

“Why?”

“He thinks you’d forget about him.”

“What?” Lucas laughs louder. “That’s dumb.”

“Yeah, well.” Idris shrugs, his laughter coming out in choppy chuckles. “Anyway, I’ve gotta get back to work, nice to meet you!” 

“You too.” Lucas takes a step backward, smiling to himself as he sips at the hot chocolate. From Eliott. How did Eliott know about his favourite campus drink? “Idris!” He calls out before the other boy is completely out of sight.

Idris turns, raising an eyebrow.

“Good luck with the project! And tell him me forgetting him is the last thing he has to worry about.” He says in a rush, half of him hoping Idris doesn’t hear him but the other half hoping the opposite as he doesn’t think he can repeat that without combusting.

Idris opens his mouth as if to say something but then he settles for a pout, both hands shooting up to clutch at his chest. “Fuck, you really are adorable.” 

Lucas turns away and brisk walks towards the next building. 

Yann drops down beside him in the middle of Lucas doing his homework. He can feel Yann staring at him, but, infuriating best friend that he is, Yann doesn’t say anything as he does it. 

“What?” Lucas breaks the silence, putting his pen down.

“What?” Yann returns, opting for the most innocent of tones. It doesn’t work.

“Spill it.” 

“Nothing, man.” Yann looks down at the phone sitting innocently between them. “Just, you know, wondering if I should round up the guys to properly meet Eliott.”

That gets Lucas’ attention. “Why?”

Yann’s left eye twitches the slightest bit. “You can’t tell me there’s nothing between you two.”

“Well, there’s a thing.” Lucas shuts his textbook, losing any sort of motivation he had going earlier. “But there’s no thing.”

“Uh, okay?” 

“He’s not my man or anything.”

“Why not?” Yann asks, incredulous like it’s easy. Or maybe for him it really is that easy.

“I don’t know, we haven’t really talked about it?” 

He opens up instagram to a new private message, eyes narrowing when he sees the username.

emir.yous hey

lucallemant hi

emir.yous I heard you’re good at chem??

lucallemant I guess 

emir.yous can you help me with somethin I think my brain’s melting

lucallemant ok, imane’s better than me though you can ask Abe to ask her?

emir.yous no she’ll think I'm stupid

lucallemant lol 

“Lucas, his friends are messaging you.” Yann deadpans, obviously having read the conversation over Lucas’ shoulder because fuck manners apparently. “I think that’s a good indication of where he wants it to go.” 

“I don’t-- I don’t know, Yann. What if-- I don’t know him that well.”

“Yet.”

“But what if I... I don’t wanna get too attached and then for it to blow up in my face.” Lucas fidgets with his pen, twirling it restlessly between all fingers until Yann stills him with a gentle touch. 

“Lucas, not everyone will be like that.”

“How do you know?” 

“You’ve got to give people a chance to prove you wrong.”

“No one’s done it yet.” 

His phone pings again, but this time it’s from a different person. Yann looks down at it and Lucas can see the hint of a smile fighting to lift his expression. “I don’t think you’re the one who needs to worry about getting attached.” 

abebkhellal what are those chocolates you gave him? he won’t even let me take a bite 

lucallemant I can get you some if you want

abebkhellal bro I’d love that  but I also love my life and eliott will probably murder me in cold blood if you gave me the same chocolates you gave him

lucallemant lol I'm sorry 

abebkhellal just show me where you get them I’ll buy some myself

lucallemant okay sure

Yann’s smiling when Lucas looks back up at him. “He talks about you with his friends.” 

“I’m pretty sure they’re just cornering me into meeting them.” Lucas chuckles, sliding his phone inside his hoodie pockets. “And I talk about him with you guys too, it’s no big deal.” 

“Are you kidding me? You never talked about Ra--”

“Anyway, what are we doing? Is this a slumber party now?”

Yann rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Are we exchanging our deepest, darkest secrets?”

“That’s not how it goes.”

“Oh, so you’re the master of slumber parties now?”

“Yeah,” Yann shuffles lazily towards the backpack he’d thrown on the ground earlier. “Only slumber party invitees get to play this.” He pulls out the new game he’s just bought while skipping class in the morning, waving it around with a flourish as Lucas gapes up at it.

“No way, that’s so expensive.”

“Yeah, I saved up.”

“Nerd.”

“Then don’t play it.”

“No, let me!”

“Slumber party people only!”

“There are two of us, I’m the one making this a party!”

“No, you’re not even wearing pyjamas!” 

Lucas sleepily watches the television screen, fingers barely moving over the controls as he lets the final boss crush his character for the nth time. Beside him, Yann’s already passed out on the couch. 

He stretches out with a groan as quiet as he can manage, reaching over Yann to grab the remote and shut the screen off. He’s about to head to bed when his hands smack against the phone still in his pockets, and his fingers automatically open up instagram before his brain even registers the movement.

srodulv you’re welcome

Lucas smiles, not exactly hating the flutter in his stomach at seeing Eliott back in his messages. 

lucallemant no longer on the plane?

srodulv haha I've landed

lucallemant welcome back how did the assignment go?

srodulv it was okay

lucallemant  okay that’s good 

srodulv can I see you again?

lucallemant I mean, it’s a bit late 

srodulv what are you talking about? 03h is the best time to go out and live our lives

lucallemant  lol stop that

srodulv careful, you might hurt my feelings again

lucallemant so?

srodulv so you’re running out of ways to apologize :)

lucallemant lol 

srodulv are you free on Thursday?

lucallemant what’s with you and Thursdays?

srodulv favourite day of the week 

lucallemant  lol weirdo

srodulv :) so?

lucallemant okay 

srodulv okay, I'll wait for you outside your class

lucallemant  how do you know where that is?

srodulv :)

lucallemant  stalker

srodulv says the original stalker

lucallemant lol go to sleep eliott

srodulv  good night ❤️

Lucas lays awake for a while after, tracking the cracks in the ceiling as his mind replays Yann’s words. You have to give people a chance to prove you wrong. He’s tried so many times, and every failure does nothing but strengthen the walls he’s trying so hard to scratch past. 

But maybe. 

Maybe this time.

Maybe.

lucallemant  good night  ❤️

Maybe Eliott deserves that chance. 

[louhooo]

Hello My Old Heart | Chap. 6

Chapter Summary: Natasha has impeccable timing

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader [AU]

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, fluff, mentions of drinking, kinda adult themes (no smut) emotions are BUILDING. **PLEASE READ A/N**

A/N: I appreciate all of the likes, reblogs and comments I get on these posts!! I’m terrible at expressing gratitude (like I really have to oversell when I open presents because I’m so bad lol), but believe me, I’M SO HAPPY WITH IT!!! 

I’m so conflicted with posting this chapter and the next because it’s such a sensitive topic, but when I first wrote the story, this was where my mind took me, and now I can’t see it any other way, and I can’t see myself taking it out of the story. That being said, miscarriage will be alluded to in this chapter, and talked about more in the next. I’m more focused on the emotions and how it affected the reader and Bucky’s relationship than I am on anything else.

Please let me know what you think!! All feedback is welcomed! 💘

It’s weird, sleeping next to the man you’re married to. 

Where should you put your hands?

What if your toes accidentally brush his shin and he wakes up?

He still sleeps the same, mumbling intelligible words between his snores, his arms subconsciously pulling you close. You used to tease him for that years ago, that even in his sleep he couldn’t keep his hands off you. 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, keeping your eyes closed, clinging onto sleep. It meant you could stay with him longer, pretending that everything was okay. 

Life’s a lot easier that way.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Your eyes shot open and you sat up, making Bucky jump with a snort.

“What? What’s goin’ on?” He asked, groggy and disoriented.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

You grumbled and moved to get out of bed, but the top sheet tangled around your legs caused you to drop to the floor with a thud.

“Fuck, are you okay?” Bucky sat up more, impatiently trying to get his eyes to adjust to being awake. You kicked the material off and stood up, mumbling that you were fine. It took your brain a moment to realize the banging was still happening at the door. You walked over and looked through the peephole, more annoyance filling your bones. You swung the door open. 

“Yes, Natasha?” She had her arms crossed and one of her annoyingly perfect eyebrows arched.

“Get dressed.” She pushed you to the side and started walking into the room. “Sharon’s wants you–” She stopped once she got into the room, staring at Bucky with wide eyes. She looked back and forth between you both a few times before she smirked. “Well, what do we have here?” You rolled your eyes and let the door shut. Bucky sat on the edge of the bed, scratching the back of his neck. You grabbed his jeans and set them next to him on the bed. 

“We were sleeping. How scandalous.” You opened up the curtains to let in some light, flinching at how harsh the light was on your eyes.

“I picked her up from the station last night and–”

“The station? Why were you at the station?” You glanced back at her and rolled your eyes at her fake curiosity.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t already know.” Nat raised a brow tauntingly. “It was late, and we were both tired, so we came here. Not that big of deal.” She scoffed and gave you an incredulous look as Bucky pulled on his pants.

“Right….” She glanced back at Bucky. “Well, Buck, I gotta take your ‘sleeping buddy’ with me. Sharon needs help with wedding stuff. I’ll call ya when I’m done with her and you can pick her up.”

“Well–” Bucky shot up, but cut himself off and glanced at you with a wary face. You rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyes locked with Bucky’s. 

“Bucky and I were gonna talk…. Can the wedding stuff wait, or can she just do it without me?” Nat studied you and Bucky.

“No. She needs you specifically.” You let out a defeated sigh. “It’ll only take an hour or two.” Her voice was gentler. You glanced at her and gave a small nod, slowly looking back to Bucky and sharing a look.

“Can I have ten minutes?” You shifted your eyes back to Nat. Nat wanted to make a comment, along the lines of “About damn time,” but she didn’t. She gave a nod and left silently, waiting out in the hall with the tacky carpeting. 

You chewed on the inside of you cheek as you bent and grabbed your bra and a black sundress to wear. You stared at the lace on your bra, too afraid to look up at Bucky. “Will you pick me up after?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I can.” You looked back up at him, and he cleared his throat again and glanced away, equally as scared to look at you. “Ma asked me to mow while they were gone, and they’re supposed to get back tomorrow and I haven’t yet.” You chuckled softly, and Bucky looked at you sharply, a small grin forming on his face. “So, I’ll do that while you’re with the girls.” 

You nodded, and your feet moved you forward until you stood in front of him, staring up at him. A shaky breath left your mouth and you hugged him, your arms finding their spot around his neck. Bucky didn’t think twice about wrapping his own arms around your waist, holding you tighter. 

“I’ll be waiting for your call,” he murmured into your neck. His beard scratched against your delicate skin and you welcomed it. Your kissed his neck, your lips lingering. Why did you do that?! You don’t even know if he– His fingers dug into your sides as he squeezed you tighter.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You detached reluctantly and he slipped his shoes on and grabbed his jacket, wringing it in his hands. He gave you one more glance before he left the room. You stood there for a few silent moments, the blooding rushing in your ears. You took a deep breath and went into the bathroom to change and cleaned up. 

When you were done getting ready, you stepped out into the hall where Nat leaned against the wall. “I’m ready.” You walked silently out to her car, anxiously anticipating her lecture. You sighed softly after you’d been driving for a few quiet minutes. “You get one question.”

“Do you still love him?” You blinked and looked at her. You hadn’t been expecting that question. You were expecting something more along the lines of  “What did you talk about?” or “Did you have sex?”

“Yes.” She gave you no reaction, simply keeping her eyes on the road. Internally? Nat was freaking the fuck out. “But, you already knew that.” She glanced at you out of the corner of her eyes, but, again, said nothing or made any sounds of acknowledgment. 

Of course Nat knew. She knows everything.

Tck! 

You picked your head up from your math book and looked around your room.

Tck!

“What the fuck?” You murmured to yourself as you stood up, looking for the source of the noise. You walked past the window and heard it again. You looked at the window and pulled the blinds open, revealing someone who was definitely not supposed to be here at 10:23 at night. You unlocked the window and slid it open, “Bucky?! What are you doing here?” You whisper-shouted. He smiled at you and dropped the handful of pebbles in his hand.

“Let me up.” Your eyes bulged and you shook your head. He lolled his head, “C’mon, babe! Open the screen and help me.” You stared at him incredulously.

“James Barnes, no. Clint is here and he’ll kill you if he finds you in here.” 

“Oh, c’mon! Not like Nat doesn’t spend the night almost every night!” Well… that’s true…. Clint would be hypocritical if he got mad at you for Bucky spending the night…. You chewed on the inside of your cheek before sighing defeatedly, lifting up the screen. Bucky smiled and came closer, stepping on the AC unit outside to hoist himself higher. “Here, grab my hand.” You grabbed his hand and helped him come in. He shut the screen, followed by the window and the blinds, before turning to you and kissing you fiercely. “I missed you.” 

You chuckled against his lips and moved to clear off the bed. Math could wait until morning when you could just copy Steve’s. You heard his shoes come off and he wrapped himself behind you, holding you close, “I thought you were gonna do math as soon as you got home?”

“I decided watching YouTube videos was a smarter idea, and you saw me just before you went to work, you can’t miss me yet.” 

He gave an exhausted chuckle, “Too damn bad. I do.” He murmured into your neck before kissing it. You closed your eyes contentedly and he kissed your neck again. One more, and you’d be putty in his hands. “Work sucked.” 

He had started working with his dad after school, doing odd jobs like installing cabinets, fixing creaky floorboards, or helping paint rooms for the houses they were working on. He didn’t hate it, but you knew he was tired of doing it every day. 

You were tired of it, too. You missed him coming to bother you at work, pretending to need your help picking out a dress or necklace for his “girlfriend”. The only one who was happy about Bucky working now was Winnie, because that meant her son couldn’t come and bother her employee at work anymore. He still did, but it was strategic and short now, and not for almost the entirety of your shift.

“Mmm, I’m sorry, baby.” You turned in his arms so you could look up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Did something happen?” He sighed softly and shrugged.

“Dad being an ass, nothing new.” You grimaced slightly. George and Bucky got along, but at work, Bucky was the boss’ son so he had higher expectations. “It’s whatever.” He shrugged again, and you shook your head.

“I think if you told him you didn’t like working there all the time, he’d give you less hours.” Bucky shook his head.

“Less hours means less money.” You sighed and gave him a look. “Don’t give me that look, toots.” He smirked at you. 

You tugged on his bun, “Don’t call me toots.” He chuckled and you stepped back a little, dropping your arms, “What do you need all that money for, anyways? You don’t spend that much on food.” A smirk spread on your face as Bucky’s eyes narrowed playfully.

“So, I can stop buying you nice things?” You tucked your head to the side, your smile softening.

“Baby, you know you don’t have to spend money on me. I’m perfectly happy doing nothing at all with you, and you know that.” He grinned and put his hands on your hips, pulling you back into him, his hands staying firmly on your ass. 

“I know, but you deserve to be spoiled.” You rolled your eyes and chuckled, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“I need to go brush my teeth and I’ll be right back.” He whined softly and you rolled your eyes, “Oh my– grab your toothbrush and you can come with.” He smiled and went to the closet and grabbed his bag of toiletries he left for when he spent the night when Clint was gone (a.k.a. staying at Nat’s). He followed quietly behind you out of your bedroom to the bathroom that was just a two doors down from your room. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Clint called from the living room. You and Bucky froze.

“Yeah?”

“You work tomorrow, right? ‘Cause Nat wants to cook dinner for me, and I don’t want you here.” You rolled your eyes. How nice. Your friends are going to have sex, and now you know.

“Oh, yeah, no I work tomorrow. It’s not gonna be an all-night thing, is it? ‘Cause I’ll just stay at Sharon’s if it is?” Clint chuckled.

“No, it won’t be. She should be gone by 9 or 10.”

“Okay. Well, I’m gonna brush my teeth then head to bed. See ya in the morning?”

“Yep, I’ll see ya. Night, kid.” Oh, shit. 

“Night, Clint!” You and Bucky got into the bathroom as quickly and quietly as possible and shut the door, before flipping on the lights. You turned on the fan so Clint would hear less, “He knows.” You both wet down your toothbrushes and added toothpaste. Bucky raised a brow through the mirror.

“What makes you say that?” He whispered.

“He called me “kid”. He never calls me that unless he catches me doin’ somethin’.” Bucky just shrugged and you finished brushing your teeth. You crept back to your room, locked the door, and got situated under the covers. You raised a brow at Bucky, who still had his jeans and work flannel on. “Take your clothes off, goob.” He chuckled and looked at you.

“How come when I tell ya to take your clothes off, you call me “James” and a “pervert”, but you can tell me to take my clothes off no problem?” You giggled, moving so you were on your knees facing him.

“Because we’re sleepin’ not having sex, which is the only time you tell me to take my clothes off.”

“That’s definitely not true. I’d gladly love to see you without your clothes on more than just when we have sex.” You rolled your eyes and started to unbutton his flannel.

“Oh, shuddap.” Bucky got that look as he watched you unbutton. You shook your head, “Don’t even ask to have se–”

“Ya know I’m gonna marry you, right?” You grinned and finished unbuttoning his grey and black flannel.

“Yes, Buck, you’ve only been tellin’ me since freshman year.” He smirked. You’d only been dating for four months when he first told you. Of course, you didn’t believe him, but his conviction was too endearing to dismiss. All of the adults in your lives laughed at you both, writing the whole thing off as “teenagers in love”. 

But, you and Bucky dated all through high school, and here you were, two months from graduating, and his reoccurring declaration was becoming increasingly probable. 

“Well, you forget a lot, so I had to make sure you’d remember.” You gave a faux look of anger and mockingly smacked his chest, sitting back on your heels. He caught your hand and held you as he sat up and kissed you, effectively taking your breath away. Your free hand moved to his jaw, holding him closer. “I’m gonna marry you so hard…” he spoke against your lips as his hand slipped past the waistband of your pajama bottoms. 

You moaned softly and pushed his flannel off him as a knock sounded through your room. You both froze, staring wide eyed at one another, your lips still connected and his hand still in your pants. You pulled back, your pulse racing.

“Yeah?” You cleared your throat.

“Can you let your boyfriend know that his lights are still on, and he should probably go turn them off before his battery dies and he wakes me up to jump his truck in the morning?” You closed your eyes and grimaced. “Oh, and Bucky?”

“Yeah…?”

“Just use the front door. You’re denting the AC.”

“Oh my god….” you groaned, falling back into bed, pulling the covers over your head. Bucky shuffled out of bed and you heard Clint laughing on the other side of the door.

“I’ll be right back.” You heard his heavy boots on the floor and he unlocked and opened the door, Clint’s laughter getting louder. You heard his steps retreat and the front door open as Clint’s laughter subsided.

“He’s gonna marry ya ‘so hard’, huh?”

“OH MY GOD!” You groaned, pushing yourself further into bed. You’re going to kill Clint Barton. “You’re deaf! How come you heard that, but you never hear me when I ask you to take the garbage out!?” The bed dipped and the covers got pulled back enough he could see your face.

I like him.

“I know you do.” Clint smirked.

So… ya know… if you do want to marry him, I’d be okay with that. 

A slow grin spread over your face. Okay… maybe you won’t kill Clint Barton. 

But I’m definitely telling everyone what he said. 

Your grin fell. Nope. Clint Baton’s a dead man.

You pulled into the wedding boutique downtown and got out, heading into the small shop. Sharon and Pepper were going through a rack of different colored dresses when you walked in. Sharon smiled at you and you gave a tight hug to Pepper.

“Hey, lady. Heard you had an eventful night.” You rolled your eyes and groaned at Sharon.

“Who hasn’t he told?!” Sharon chuckled.

“He called me this morning and told me. Then, he texted me a picture of your mugshot.” You scoffed.

“I didn’t even get charged, he just made me take the picture for his own amusement. It’s a little fucked up if you ask me.” Everyone, except you, laughed.

“I told him that, but he said he wants to hang it and frame it next to mine and Nat’s.” She rolled her eyes lovingly, “He’s twisted, but it’s why we love him.” You smirked. 

“So, what’s up? Why did you send Nat to bang on my door this morning?” 

“Well,” Sharon exhaled softly, a small grin on her face, “I have to try on my dress one last time before Saturday, and I want you to see it person.” Your eyes turned glassy and you grinned warmly at her, a cry building in your throat. You had only see her dress in pictures and over video calls, sharing in the joy through a screen hundreds of miles away.

You let out a teary laugh, “Okay. I guess it’s okay you had Nat wake me up early.” Everyone chuckled and Sharon hugged you tightly.

“You’re still my best friend, sunshine, whether you think so or not.” Was Sharon trying to make you weep? If so, she was close to succeeding. Another tight squeeze and you went and sat in between Nat and Pepper as Sharon went to get changed.

“So, what’s Tony doing today? Bothering Peggy?” All three of you leaned back into the plush cream sofa, comfortably waiting for the bride-to-be.

Pepper chuckled, “Yeah, I think so. He took apart her satellite and told her he could get her a bunch of free channels from other countries. When I left, he’d locked himself in the garage so she’d stop hitting him with the paper.” You and Nat burst into laughter, the thought of Peggy chasing Tony around with the daily paper bringing you immense joy.

“Ya know, when he does that shit, I’m the one who has to listen to her complain about it,” Sharon shouted from the dressing room, “I should find him and hit him myself.” 

The curtain was pulled back, and the rustling of fabric got closer. Sharon came out from behind the wall, and you were in instant tears. She grinned sappily and stepped in front of the angled mirrors, smoothing down the non-existent creases in her dress. The ivory dress had a floral lace bodice with a low back and plunging neckline, the tulle skirt only adding to her princess look.

The real thing beat every picture you ever received.

“So?” You wiped your eyes with a tissue that appeared in front of you and smiled up at your friend.

“Remind me to tell Steve how lucky he is,” you sniffled. Sharon chuckled and Nat and Pepper hummed in agreement. Sharon twirled for you (much to Nat’s enjoyment) and a heavy debate was done on how her hair should be done for the wedding. 

Her mom had talked her into having it pulled back in a tight bun, but you all disagreed. You might have disagreed purely because it was Amanda’s idea, but even Sharon claimed to not be entirely convinced it would look good, and since Peggy was doing her hair, you knew she’d do whatever was the exact opposite of what Amanda wanted. 

After Sharon changed and loaded her dress into the back of her Jeep, you all decided to get an early lunch at the Italian restaurant a few stores down from the bridal boutique. You sat down and sipped water and skimmed the menu as you waited for your server to come back with the free bread. Once you had all ordered, Nat cleared her throat.

“So, Y/N and Bucky slept together.” You choked on your water, as did Pepper and Sharon.

“What?!” They both screeched. You gave Nat a death glare.

“He picked me up from the station, and it was late and the hotel was closer. I didn’t want him to drive all the way home.” You glared at Nat, “All we did was sleep.” She grinned around her glass of water.

“So… have you two talked at all since Peg’s?” Sharon asked softly. You bit your lip and shrugged.

“Kinda. Just a little after he picked me up.” You picked at the skin around your nails, “He apologized for not being there for me.” You exhaled, “And I apologized for pushing him.” Sharon sighed softly.

“He was really messed up after you left.”

“I know….” 

“I don’t– I know you know that, but I don’t think you really believe that.” You looked up at her, and her eyes flicked over your face as she let out another sigh, “I don’t know if I should tell you, but I want you to know–”

“Shar… that’s not yours to tell.” Nat gave her a look. You glanced between Nat and Sharon, curious as to what they knew that you didn’t.

“What…? What don’t I know?” You asked, guarded. Nat and Sharon continued their stare off and Sharon finally sighed and looked down at her lap. Nat turned to you.

“Nothing.” You blinked. Are you kidding me? Clearly it’s something.

Lunch went smoothly, easy conversation being made about what still needed to be done for the wedding and the rest of the week. You all paid for your meals, and Sharon reminded you to drop off your dress tomorrow so she could steam it before the rehearsal. You nodded, still lost in thought about what it was you didn’t know about Bucky. You said a quick goodbye to everyone and told them you were going to pick up your car from Nick’s before it got towed and you’d talk to them later. You didn’t wait around for them to respond back, already off towards Nick’s. 

What don’t I know about Bucky?

You started your car and fiddled with the radio before driving.

You were vaguely aware of driving past the diner, past the hotel, past everything until you were out on the edge of town, turning down the gravel road. You kept driving until the giant oak tree came into view, the breeze making the leaves dance. You slowed your car to stop and cut the engine, a new song playing faintly in the background. You slowly got out of the car and walked up the grassy path to “your” tree, settling at the trunk, resting back against it. You hadn’t been here since the day you left, your last and only stop before leaving town.

You stared at the pink rose bush a few yards from you, a new addition to the slice of Eden you had discovered all those years ago. Another breeze came through, shaking the flowers, almost like they were rejoicing in your arrival. 

You traced the heart carved into the boulder near the tree, remembering the day when Bucky showed it to you.

You had told him you were pregnant that morning over pancakes, and after his excited screaming settled, he told you he’d “be right back” and left. The Grove had been where he kissed you for the first time, where you first told Bucky you loved him, and where he promised you forever with a diamond ring. 

That innocent etch would hurt a few months later when everything crumbled, and two broken hearts would leave the hospital. 

Another trembling of leaves, and the wall you had carefully built cracked and your tears poured. You clutched your knees to your chest, pouring your heart out just as you did the last time you came to the Grove.

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Previous // Next

[vyladromeave]

Mr. Zvahl has updated!

Chapter 6: Forage and Found

(Read the full thing on AO3!)

(A/N: nbvGJDFSFSD THIS IS SO LATE IM SORRY. It was TECHNICALLY done like a week or so ago but it was under 1k words and i just couldnt Post It mnbdsfghfsd. ANYWAYS now its nearly 2k so hopefully thatll make up for the wait nfdsbghdjsf. i have been Neglecting Zoey so now you have to read So Much about my beautiful elf wife mndsfbhjsfdk. not much else to say, ill edit this if i can think of anything important. Also Once Again gentle reminder tht i would seriously reccomend reading this on ao3 instead because tumblr formatting makes the spacing Whack but whatever man u do u,,,, you do u,,,,,, dshjgsfd ANYWAYS Hope u enjoy!!)

.

They had been walking for some time now. She had explained on the way out there that the path used to be much clearer, but too much overgrowth in the area had made reaching difficult. It was still possible, it just took extra time. In their case, it had taken a good half-hour at least. (It could have taken longer, but he wasn’t too good at keeping track of the time these days.)

As they approached he wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but now that they were there, he realized it wasn’t actually that different from what he’d imagined. His only experience in portals were the ones that lead to the nether- it somewhat shocked him to see that this portal wasn’t much different. It was about the same size and shape, though the material was different and it gave off an energy that was much less malevolent. Even then, its aura made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and it wasn’t even activated.

“The portal leads to the Irene Dimension. That’s where we believe Aphmau, and all those that went with her, are trapped.” she continued.

He looked to her, silently asking permission if he could get a closer look, although she didn’t seem to notice. He took it as a yes. He approached the portal to get a closer look while she talked.

“I’ve been working for nearly a decade to find a way to open it again. Nothing has worked so far, but I’m getting close. I can feel it.”

“How so?”

She was somewhat thrown off by how direct his question is. “I- well- when I first started working on this… I didn’t really know what I was doing? I was just throwing things together, I didn’t understand any of it. And now… well, there’s a lot I still don’t understand, I won’t lie about that. Emmalyn was our resident Irene expert, but we lost her to the portal too. But I’ve also learned- I know what I’m doing now, I know the end goal. I just need to figure out how to get there.”

He nods, though his focus is still mostly devoted to the portal. He understands what she means now when she said there was a lot she didn’t understand- if he was in Zoey’s place he wouldn’t even know where to start. It takes him a solid minute to recognize that no, those “scratches” he spotted on the portal are words, and in some language he has no clue of recognizing. He shakes his head. He would love to help out, of course he would, but he isn’t cut out for this.

“Well, you’re the barrier magicks user. If anyone could do it, it’s you.”

She sighs and nods. “I suppose so. I’m not sure if it’s a good thing, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Of course it’s a good thing. The town just needs to have faith in you.”

“It’s been ten years. There’s not much faith left to go around.”

“Well, what about you? Do you think you can do it? Bring them home?”

She pauses for a second, but nods. “Yes. I do.”

“Then that’s good enough for me. That settles it.”

She gives him a look and tilts her head, confused. “Settles what, exactly?”

“I think I’d like to stay here. In Phoenix Drop. At least until everyone returns.”

“Oh!” She smiles, but took another moment to process and “Oh.” Her face drops. “I- I mean that’s great, I’m glad you’d like to stay, but- this could take years. Decades. Centuries, even. You could be long dead by the time everyone is back here.”

“That’s fine. It’s worth the wait.”

She was startled by his ease in acceptance. “That’s- I mean- you could-“ she takes a breath to calm herself. “Alright. Welcome to Phoenix Drop, Mr. Zvahl.”

~~~

She had agreed to take him out to the portal if he would do some work for her in return. Nothing too strenuous, she wasn’t cruel, but it was nice to have help every once in a while.

For as good as he was in navigating the forest, he knew next to nothing about the plant life within it. Or plant life in general. She spent a solid ten minutes explaining to him what they were looking for, “Four leaves, notched edges, somewhat pointy at the ends. You’ll know you have the right plant if the base of the leaf is much thicker than the edges.” His understanding seemed to be shaky at best, but he didn’t want to waste more time when they were supposed to be gathering. And so he wandered north, she went a bit south, and hoped that he had at least a basic understanding of what they were looking for.

She hadn’t found too many- but she figured as much. It took some time to get to the better spots where the plant often grew in, which they had instead spent observing the portal (as if she didn’t spend enough time on that blasted thing already). So she paid it no mind when he was late meeting back up by a couple minutes. And then ten went past. Then fifteen. It was just enough time to make her start to worry when she’d spotted him returning. That was another odd thing about him, sometimes he was easier to spot with your eyes than to notice with your ears. He was oddly quiet, inhumanly stealthy. She’d wanted to say he was just good at that sort of thing, but what kind of person can disappear in a forest but can’t tell an acorn from a rock? Either he was oddly talented, or there was something even odder going on here, and it bugged her a bit too much.

Her mind was taken off the question when he’d stopped in front of her and she got a good look at him. She understood now why he was late- he seemed uncomfortable, and kept shifting the rather large pile of plants he gathered around. It was a bit hard to tell with the gloves he wore, but she swore she could see splotches of red creeping up his arms.

“Is this stuff we’re gathering… supposed to be itchy?”

And just like that, her suspicions were confirmed. “Well- yes, that is normal for that plant. But it’s also not the plant I told you to gather.”

“It’s not?” He said, looking down at the bundles of leaves in his arms.

“No, it isn’t. I sent you to gather lushsprout. The plants you’re holding look like poison ivy.”

A blank expression slowly grew on his face as he stared through the plant he’d gathered and into the middle distance. A look Zoey could only describe as regret took hold, and he dropped everything he had spent so long gathering as the name finally registered in his brain.

“One moment.” he said and rushed off in the direction of what Zoey could only assume was the nearest water source, a desperate attempt to wash off the red splotches that had already begun to form on his skin. Zoey couldn’t help but snort- it was the most emoted she had seen him ever, and yet it was all so comical.

Well, there was nothing comical about poison ivy, she supposed. It was mildly annoying at best, and painful at worst- but judging by his seeming unawareness she figured he would be alright this time. It would certainly make a good story for later, at least. They had done enough herb gathering for the day.

~~~

They made their way back to Phoenix Drop, recuperating at Aphmau’s house. He washed his hands and arms once again, as well as his gloves in order to make sure they were completely poison-ivy-free. (He’d gathered too much to be completely unscathed, but it was something he could deal with.) Zoey made him tea once again, and Vylad didn’t have the heart to turn her down. Of all the citizens of Phoenix Drop, he’d grown to like her and Dante the most.

She was kind and thoughtful, and understanding of his quiet demeanor. Where Dante often barged in and forced conversation, Zoey understood the importance of silence. They hadn’t physically talked much, though he discovered that he’d somewhat enjoyed just hanging out around her, helping her gather herbs, looking at her miniature garden, whatever trivial way they decided to pass the time. She was certainly more suspicious of him than Dante was (so perhaps she was smarter too), but Vylad figured it was justified and tried to not let it bother him much.

In a strange turn of events, he ended up the one to break the silence.

~~~

“...Just how often does Kawaii~Chan bake?”

“Well, she’s been doing it less often lately, since she’s got a child to look after now, but…”

“So not too often, then?”

She could’ve sworn he sounded almost disappointed. “Gods no, Kawaii~Chan is an unstoppable force when it comes to cooking. The day there is a force strong enough to prevent her is probably the day the world ends.”

She chuckled a bit at her own joke, Zvahl never laughed (or reacted much to anything at all, she’d noticed), so she did for both of them. Maybe it was a bit conceited, but in her eyes it let them both enjoy it, even if he was reluctant to show such feelings. “Why, were you hoping to get some of her sweets yourself?”

“Uh-”

“Have you ever even had her cooking? It’s very good, I’m just not sure why you’d be so interested…”

“Yes, I did. At that breakfast, about a week ago.”

“You’ve been craving her cooking for a week? ”

“Well-”

Any form of excuse was interrupted by more of her laughter, this time it was entirely for herself. Was he so reserved that it had taken him a week to ask about something as trivial as baking? She glanced over him once again to make sure she wasn’t missing anything- only finding what she decided was a hint of embarrassment. He opened his mouth to speak, and she nearly found herself laughing again when he closed it and glanced away.

She stifled her laughter to save him from any more embarrassment, and gave him a knowing wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll put in a good word with her for you if you want. She loves to bake after all- I’m sure she’d be happy to make you something.”

It was muffled by the scarf which most of his face had retreated into, but through the cloth she swore she heard him give a mumbled, “... Thank you...”

Perhaps she was wrong. He had plenty of emotion. Zoey would just need to learn where to look.

~~~

[osmw1]

Crowbar Nurse   Chapter 3 — In a World with No Rescue

It felt great to let loose and slay a horde of zombies again. Though as refreshing as that was, I couldn’t help but feel guilty as well. They were formerly people after all. It made me question what gives me the right to kill them.

… ugh, I’ve never even considered any of this when I game. Having blood on my hands is mentally rougher than I thought…

Heaving a sigh, I stood the assault rifle up against the wall then sat on one of the dining chairs… one that the old man wasn’t. I know I’m in a game, but I’m still not about to sit in the old man’s seat.

Still, why is this even happening…? Because my phone glitched…?

Thoughts ran through my head as I was trying to figure out my situation. It was then I noticed the desk to the side… the key was on the desk, just as I remembered reading about on the walkthrough site.

Might as well take it.

Kiryū looked understandably bewildered as he watched me take the key.

“Umm, hey… Sera? What’s that key do?” “It’s super useful and since I don’t have a pocket… would you please hang on to it? Anyway, what did you mean by that? Sera?”

I looked up at Kiryū. He looked back at me with a troubled expression. He knows my name, even though I’m sure we’ve just met.

“… I’m not sure if you realize it yet, but right now, physically, you’re Sera Harvey, the protagonist of Dead Man’s Conflict 2.” “Are you for real?” “I swear. I’ve never played any zombie games before, but I’ve seen this series at the game show in Tokyo before.” “… that’s… very surprising…”

As stupid as I may have sounded, I had no other words but those. Subconsciously, I began looking at my hands… and then my feet.

My long, fair legs were peeking through the bottom of an adorable green sundress. My hair was in a shade of dark bluish black. And tipping my small, slender hands were my fingernails in pink.

… this is definitely not my own body. This body belonged to the beauty who contrasted the deplorable battlefield of Confi City, the stealthy one-man army of Dead Man’s Conflict—Sera Harvey.

“… I’m Sera…”

I shook my head in denial as I finally realized who I was.

“What the heck happened to me…”

The truth was sickening, troubling. This situation was all too ridiculous. Kiryū, as if he understood how I felt, began his explanation.

“From what I can tell, you’re just an average Joe who got dragged from the real world to this side.” “… that’s what it seems like. I swear, I was just a rookie nurse working free overtime in a sweatshop they called a hospital… Kiryū, this is some sort of a dream, right…?”

This would be strange topic if I were in a dream, but I still had to ask… I still needed that small glimmer of false hope for consolation.

“… it’d be nice if it were a dream.”

Kiryū shrugged as he spoke, sounding just like a doctor giving a patient bad diagnosis. He continued with a heavy heart and gently broke the news to me.

“… but I don’t think this is simply a dream. I don’t know how else to describe it, but we’re inexplicably trapped in this world.” “No…” “I feel you. It’s hard to accept. But have you ever been dog-tired and out of breath in a dream before?”

I couldn’t help but shake my head and answer with no.

“… I haven’t had a dream like… that… I suppose. Isn’t this a little too unrealistic though? Zombies only exist in fiction. The concept of the reanimated dead just doesn’t make sense. It goes against the laws of physics. They show all signs of being dead, you know? And how can they produce any adenosine triphosphate to move? I don’t even know how I got here in the first place… to this world…”

I was at my wits’ end by now.

—I opened a door to another universe by working overtime and getting my phone hacked.

No one would believe that. It’d make more sense if it were just a dream. Or maybe I’m in some sort of web novel. They say the hit genre right now is about getting reborn into a game world. Even my brother mentioned he was into that sort of novels and anime. I felt more and more ill as I think about all of this. To begin with, I was on the brink of death at work up until moments ago.

“… real life blows. Were you working overtime too?”

Perhaps he could sense my mental state, Kiryū forced a small smile and began to sympathize. His words seemed a little cool yet gentle. I slowly looked up at him. Kiryū looked as shallow as he did handsome, but the way he spoke was more than genuine.

“Me too. Just now—rather, hours ago, I was stuck at work debugging with the whole team.” “… what’s that?” “You play a game thoroughly to make sure that it’s free of any bugs. It’s a time-consuming process in which gotta play the game over and over again. People from other departments would get on your case and check in with you too. I really thought I was gonna kick the bucket. Then, before I knew it, I got trapped in this ridiculous world.” “I see…” “… I guess I should apologize too. I might look like a real stud, but inside, I’m really an old fart. I’m just like you, from the real world. Except that I’m a 30-year-old software engineer working for a game dev company.”

I let out a slight giggle in spite of myself. At first, I assumed he was a little too serious and awkward, but he’s actually quite kind.

“You can’t call yourself an old fart yet when you’re just 30.” “I appreciate that, but you’ll feel it too when you turn 30. People younger than you will make fun of you for everything, so you gotta be prepared for it.” “Hah, that sounds rough… oh, by the way, do you know who your character is?” “Kiryū Sōichirō, right? I’ve, uhh… seen it at the game show.” “Oh, so you do know!”

Letting his guard down a little, Kiryū laughed with me. He looked like the world’s hottest playboy, but I’d be no better if I said that out loud. We’re both adults who are sick and tired of their jobs, but we certainly don’t look the part.

“I’m glad you’re smiling again. I wouldn’t know what would happen to me if I hadn’t found you too.” “… what do you mean? Were you with someone else?” “Yeah.”

His smile faded into a frown.

“… I found you as I watched my friend get eaten by zombies.” “Like, in a cutscene?” “No… he was a real person. He lost his cool and tried to clear a horde with his bare hands.” “That’s such a movie cliché…” “I don’t get it either. He was saying we’re not going to be rescued anyway… I guess he was at his limits couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Kiryū looked down at the ground and heaved a sigh.

“… please, be strong. For me. We’ll think of some way to safely break out of this world. We can do this together. So please, promise me…”

As his voice trails off, I looked down at the ground and felt a wave of anxiety building up in my chest.

—is he saying we might die in here like his friend…?

But what did he mean that he wasn’t going to be rescued? Does he know something we don’t…?

Silence fell in the bloody, musty room. … then, I remembered something very important and I grabbed the assault rifle. Shit. Christ. This is bad. We can’t afford to be just sitting here.

“—Sera, wait! Let’s talk about this some more!” “There’s lots I want to say too, but I just recalled something really important. In this game, we’re in danger until we reach a safehouse.” “… we’re in danger?”

Kiryū now looked very serious.

“… you mean, they’ll keep spawning and respawning, coming at us?” “That’s exactly it.”

I’m glad that Kiryū, being a game dev, quickly understood what I’m talking about, but I can’t rejoice yet.

“The longer we stay at a location, the more enemies will spawn.” “Ugh. That sounds like the whole world is gonna get laggy… but I get what you mean. It’ll be dangerous if we stay here any longer. We’ve gotta keep moving so they don’t form too big of a horde…” “That’s right. We should head to a safehouse ASAP. But, before that…”

I stopped in the middle of my sentence to rack my brain. There was so much we should be doing.

—what are the locations of this game like?

Are there any places where I can’t return?

Are there any key items that I should get before I leave?

 “… before we head to the safehouse, there are two things we have to recover.”

I walked towards the exit as I explained things to him.

“First, I need to pick up the ‘smartphone’ I dropped earlier. Second is the ‘Vital Watch’ that gets dropped in the beginning of this level.” “Vital Watch?”

Kiryū followed behind me.

“It’s critical to our safety that we get that watch. Have you… never played any DMC game before?”

He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders no.

“They say you can do whatever you want in these zombie killers, but they aren’t my thing.” “I see. In that case… umm, the Vital Watch looks like an Apple Watch.” “I see.” “It’s a gadget that… how should I explain this? In short, it’s kinda like a status screen that you can wear around your wrist.”

I grabbed my left wrist with my fingers to demonstrate to Kiryū.

“It fits right around here, and it displays your vital stats, the currently time, and other basic info like that. DMC3 holds your hands throughout the game so that it’s easy to get into it. I think we should be able to find it in this world too.” “I see… diagetic UI, eh?”

Kiryū nodded along as if he completely understood me.

“It sounds like we should definitely get our hands on that Vital Watch. … but your phone? Is it really worth the risk it to get it back?” “Definitely. It was because my phone glitched up that I got sent to this world. It’s very likely a key item, don’t you think?” “Your phone glitched…?” “I’ll tell you the details once we get moving. We can’t sit and chat here anyway.”

He seemed really interested about what happened to my phone.

“In any case, we should definitely go back to get it. We must. I just have to post these pictures online, y’know?” “… what was that?” “Nothing at all. You’re hearing things.” “No shit?”

I digressed but brushed it off with a clap of my hands.

“Well, that’s not important right now. We should get hurrying though! Oh, and where’s your phone?” “Oh. I don’t have it with me.”

Kiryū scratched the back of his head and shrugged his shoulders again.

“I fell asleep at my desk… and when I woke up, I was lying face-up in this world. My phone is probably still on my desk at work.” “Alright, then for now, let’s go retrieve my phone.” “Gotcha.” “Then, we’ll go get the Vital Watch.” “Yep.”

—and so, that was our plan.

First, the phone. Then, the watch.

… the Vital Watch should have dropped after the first section of the game… it should be our first item. Right now, though, we’re at the end of the first locale—Downtown. That means we’ll have to backtrack through the stage.

—… “we’re not going to be rescued anyway”…

That phrase kept coursing through my mind. Nothing but bad feelings welled up in my chest as I looked downwards.

… but now’s not the time to get all depressed.

If we stay here any longer, the game is going to spawn too many zombies. I shook off my anxiety and I tried to cheer up both Kiryū and myself.

“We don’t know anything about our situation, nor do we know anything about how to get back to our world… but let’s keep playing this game. That’s all we can do.”

■Sera

Sera is a rookie nurse whose real name is unknown. Also, a bright and cheerful wild child. She grew up with her brothers—one older and one younger, both two years apar from her. From her grade school days and up till year one of university, she had been obssessed with zombie games. Now, she is suffering the consequences.

contents: /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /next/

(leave me a tip on Patreon?)

[syncogon]

[QZGS Fic] 0529

I haven’t cross-posted my works in a while, but figure I’d make an exception here. Happy birthday to Ye Xiu!

AO3 

summary: Some of Ye Xiu’s birthdays, throughout the years.

“Surprise!!! Happy birthday!”

Ye Xiu yelps at the sudden blast of noise and confetti in his face. It takes him a few seconds to realize what’s going on, and to see the two figures standing before him, each wearing a little party hat and triumphantly waving something in their hands.

Su Muqiu grins and high-fives his little sister. “You like these? Homemade… whatever they’re called! Confetti-blaster-noise-maker things just for this special occasion. Mucheng was a big help with these so make sure to thank her!”

Ye Xiu rubs his head. “You could give me some warning next time, sheesh…”

“That defeats the point! You should’ve seen your face!”

“It was great,” Su Mucheng giggles, eyes sparkling. Ye Xiu can’t get mad at her like this, so he just sighs and ruffles her hair.

“Anyway, happy 16th! This is a big year, you know why?” Su Muqiu doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’re two-thirds of the way to becoming the king’s avatar!”

“…What?”

“You know! Since there are 24 classes in Glory!” Su Muqiu throws an arm around Ye Xiu’s shoulders and gestures grandly before them. “So when you’re 24, you’ll be the master of all classes! The textbook of Glory! They’ll write novels about you!”

“Please.” Ye Xiu rolls his eyes. “Maybe you need a whole year to master a class, but I can do it much faster.”

“Oh yeah? Wanna go?” Su Muqiu gives him a light shove.

Ye Xiu grins. “You’re on.”

But Su Mucheng breaks in before they can rush off to the computers like they always do. “At least have some cake first! You have to make a wish, it’s your birthday!” She points to the table, where Ye Xiu finally sees the cupcake sitting peacefully, vanilla with orange-colored icing, a single candle stuck straight into the air.

“Oh right, almost forgot!” Su Muqiu slaps a hand to his forehead. “We got you a cupcake too, Mucheng picked it out just for you, so eat up! Enjoy! Make a wish to beat me, because we both know that’s the only way you’d win.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep better at night,” Ye Xiu laughs. They sit down at the small table, and Su Muqiu strikes a match, lights the candle, and pushes the cupcake in front of him.

It’s really a lovely looking cupcake, the icing perfectly swirled atop the cake and dotted with colorful sprinkles. The sort of thing that they’d stare at through a display window, but never shell out the money to buy. But this is a special treat for a special occasion, and it warms Ye Xiu’s heart.

I wish… I wish that we can stay together like this, for a long time to come.

Ye Xiu closes his eyes and blows out the candle.

“I cannot believe,” sighs Wu Xuefeng, “that I’ve known you for this many years now, and I only just found out when your birthday was. And not even from you, but from Little Mucheng! You can tell me these sort of things, you know?”

“Sorry?” Ye Xiu offers a sheepish grin. “It just… never came up?”

Wu Xuefeng shakes his head. “You’re hopeless,” he says, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips nonetheless. “Anyway, now that I actually know, happy birthday! Got you something, not much since it was such short notice…”

“No, this is good.” Ye Xiu takes the profferred gift bag and, after a pause, reaches forward and pulls Wu Xuefeng into a hug. “Thanks, Brother Feng,” he says. “For saving my butt during matches, and covering for me outside of them.”

“That’s what I’m here for, right?” Wu Xuefeng laughs and pats him on the back. “I’ve always got your back, you know that.”

“I couldn’t ask for a better partner,” Ye Xiu smiles. “Ready to create a dynasty?”

“Always.”

Poor young defenseless Ye Xiu is on his way back to his room along the player passageways when suddenly out of the blue he is accosted by a terrifying mafia boss demanding his money or else suffer the consequences-

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

Ye Xiu smiles sweetly at said mafia boss. “Nothing, Old Han. What’s up?”

Han Wenqing gives him a dark look, but instead of saying more, just tosses him something. Ye Xiu fumbles a bit, but doesn’t drop it, which he considers a success. “Huh? What’s this?” he asks.

“I heard it was your birthday soon, Ye Qiu,” says Han Wenqing. “So, happy early birthday.”

“You got me a present?” There’s only the barest hint of incredulity in his voice, but Ye Xiu, behind his careless demeanor, is actually rather shocked. Is this a thing rivals do? Or… since when did Han Wenqing consider him a friend?

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“…No,” says Ye Xiu. “That’s really nice of you, actually, I never thought you were such a softie behind that scary face of yours. Really,” he pretends to wipe away a tear, “it’s a present enough just to have someone like you as my rival.”

Han Wenqing glares.

“But also,” Ye Xiu waves the rather wallet-shaped wrapped gift around, “if this is a wallet, Old Han, I will laugh.”

Han Wenqing glares some more, and Ye Xiu smirks.

“Ye Qiu Ye Qiu Ye Qiu Ye Qiu Ye Qiu Ye Qiu!!!”

The voice echoes down the passageway, compounding the noisiness, and Ye Xiu can already feel the headache forming. Resigned, he turns around. “What do you want?”

Huang Shaotian bounces up to him, Yu Wenzhou following sedately behind. “Hello, Senior,” the latter politely greets him.

“Hello, Captain Yu.”

“Ye Qiu you bastard stop ignoring me!” The mess of blond energy plants himself firmly in front of Ye Xiu’s view.

“Don’t worry, you’ve made that thoroughly impossible, unfortunately. What do you want?”

“So goddamn ungrateful. Here, happy birthday! Take this, it’s from me and Captain. And come on, let’s go PKPKPK everyone knows that’s the best way to celebrate a birthday!”

Yu Wenzhou continues to smile calmly. “Happy birthday, Senior. I wish you the best in the year to come.”

Ye Xiu takes the gift and snorts. “The best birthday gift you could have gotten me was shutting him up, you know?”

“I know, but it was unfortunately impossible. Perhaps he’d quiet down if you played a match with him?”

“Nice try,” laughs Ye Xiu.

“Oi I’m right here you know! Ye Qiu I’m going to drag your ass to the Arena right now right this instant-”

“Oh would you look at the time, I have to go feed my dog. See you guys around, and thanks for the birthday wishes!”

“YE QIU GET BACK HERE-!”

“Ye… Xiu.”

“Hm? Oh hey, Big-Eye, how’s it going? Raising your team well? Your successor get any braver?”

Wang Jiexi nods curtly. “We’re doing well, thanks. I don’t know when I’ll see you next, so I wanted to give you this now.”

“This is…?” The box that Wang Jiexi gives him is cubical, heavier than it appears. Wang Jiexi had been carrying it rather carefully, so Ye Xiu does the same.

“Just a gift. It’s a little fragile, so be careful. Happy early birthday, Senior. I…” Wang Jiexi hesitates, then continues, “You were never gone for long, and I know we still had contact during the period of your retirement. But regardless, it’s good to have you back. I’ve enjoyed seeing the growth of your team and its players… Yours is an unconventional team, but one to look up to.”

“I…” What to say to that? Ye Xiu isn’t the type to get embarrassed, but after something like that? In the end, although it’s nowhere near what he’d like to express, he can only say, “Thanks, Captain Wang.”

“Though I hope you haven’t been working yourself too hard? Building a new team from scratch, and with so many rookies…”

Wang Jiexi would know, probably better than almost anyone, how difficult it can be. Ye Xiu smiles ruefully. “It’s been alright. Maybe… maybe if I’d been able to transfer to an already existing team, I’d be in good enough condition to play for several years longer.

“But… I wouldn’t trade Team Happy for anything. I’m sure you can understand, no?”

“Here!” Sun Xiang thrusts a wrapped box at him out of nowhere. This catches Ye Xiu off guard, to say the least.

“Uh…” Ye Xiu takes it, of course, but handles it rather gingerly. This kid doesn’t hate him enough to give him a bomb or something, right? “Thanks…?”

“Congrats on being a year closer to your death, old man,” grumbles Sun Xiang, stuffing his hands in his pockets and looking away. “I won’t go easy on you because you’re old though! I’m still gonna kick your ass onstage!”

Ye Xiu snorts. “In your dreams, Little Xiang.” He absently inspects the…birthday gift?… which is wrapped in a cheery yellow paper patterned with little white sheep. “Did you wrap this? I like the paper, it suits you. Though it’s a neater job than I expected, I’m impressed.”

The trashtalk is automatic and natural, but his brain is elsewhere. Honestly, he’s more impressed that Sun Xiang – Sun Xiang! – is giving him anything at all. Since when did this kid not-hate him enough to make such a gesture? It’s… kind of touching, actually?

“Fuck off,” replies Sun Xiang with an angry scowl, which only makes Ye Xiu’s grin widen.

“Um…” It’s at this moment that Sun Xiang’s companion speaks up, hesitantly extending another wrapped box to Ye Xiu. “Happy birthday… Senior…”

Ye Xiu accepts the present from Zhou Zekai as well, with less trepidation. “Thank you, Little Zhou.”

“Senior is… really… amazing,” says Zhou Zekai, ducking his head, and Ye Xiu’s smile softens at the sight.

“So are you,” he replies, “you’ve both played very well this season, especially with your coordination. I look forward to seeing you onstage.” And he means it, really. It would be Happy’s most difficult battle yet, but a good one no matter what.

“We don’t need your stupid comments!” Sun Xiang humphs, but Ye Xiu sees that the tips of his ears have gone pink. “I already know my One Autumn Leaf is better than yours! Let’s head back, Captain, we gotta train and annilhate this guy once and for all.”

Zhou Zekai opens his mouth, as though about to say something more, but he shakes his head. He offers Ye Xiu a shy smile, and turns to follow his teammate.

Ye Xiu watches the two of them depart, and then he glances at Jiang Botao, who’s casually standing to the side, feigning disinterest in the whole scene.

“So,” says Ye Xiu, walking over, “what did you say to convince them to do that? Are you trying to bribe me to go easy on you guys or something? Your heart’s really as black as a Master Tactician’s…” Because although the two were very different in personality and disposition, neither Zhou Zekai nor Sun Xiang were exactly the types to just…

Jiang Botao only smiles. “They themselves wanted to give you presents, they just needed a push to actually go through with it. Someone on Samsara has to be the socially competent one, after all. Happy birthday, Senior.”

That earns a chuckle from Ye Xiu. “Thanks. Hope we have a good fight.”

“And the same to you.”

“Okay everyone!” Chen Guo claps her hands together to get everyone’s attention. “It’s almost Ye Xiu’s birthday! We need to get him something.”

“Boss Lady, that’s what you called us all here for?” Wei Chen drawls, leaning back on his chair and puffing a cigarette at the corner of the room. “I thought this was some important strategy meeting or something…”

“Shut your mouth, this is important,” says Chen Guo. “He’s done so much for us, literally none of us would be here if not for him, so this is the least we can do. Any ideas?”

Su Mucheng is currently out with Ye Xiu, distracting him so that they could have this secret planning meeting right now. Aside from those two, everyone on Team Happy is here.

“The only thing Captain really cares about is Glory, and winning the championship,” An Wenyi points out. “And we’re all already putting in our full effort on that end.”

“But I’m sure we can still think of something nice to do for him outside of that,” says Tang Rou. “He would still appreciate it.”

“He’s a Gemini!” says Steamed Bun excitedly. “So we can get him a twin-”

“He already has a twin,” Luo Ji deadpans.

“-oh great even better, we can find his twin and-”

“Anyone have any other ideas?” Chen Guo firmly cuts off Steamed Bun before he can continue on his strange paths of thought.

“A mug that says #1 Dad on it,” says Fang Rui. “Appeals to both his ego and his role in this team.” At the looks he gets, he raises his hands defensively. “What? It’s totally accurate. He took in all you rookies and raised you into an actual fighting force. Look into my honest eyes, and see the truth of this statement.”

“Yifan did call him Dad once,” Steamed Bun pipes up. Qiao Yifan flushes, but he can’t deny the truth.

“See, exactly!”

“Get him a fancy ashtray or lighter or something,” suggests Wei Chen.

“We’re not going to encourage his unhealthy habits!”

“A whole pack of instant ramen.”

“Or McDonalds, doesn’t he really like their fries?”

“What kind of gift is that?”

An Wenyi wasn’t entirely wrong when he said that all Ye Xiu cared about was Glory. If they excluded the Glory-related accomplishments that they would strive to achieve anyway, then what else was there? What would Ye Xiu like? Something he could use, something that would mean something to him?

As a result, the ideas steadily become more and more outlandish.

“A body pillow of himself.”

“Buy an ad on the Citibank tower and slap his face on it.”

“Oh oh, Tang Rou can buy out the company that makes Glory and give it to him!”

“We get him a concentrated vial of liquid shamelessness.”

Suddenly, there’s a quiet cough. Normally, such a quiet noise would never catch any attention, but given the source of the cough, the room suddenly goes quiet as though a switch were pulled.

Mo Fan looks alarmed at suddenly having a dozen pairs of eyes upon him. His gaze darts around the room, and the others wonder if he’s just going to swallow his words back down again.

But in the end, the words do come out. Quiet, as per usual, but perfectly understandable. “What about a model Myriad Manifestation Umbrella?”

Such a simple idea. Chen Guo opens her mouth to shoot it down like all the others, but then stops, and thinks.

A simple idea, but a good one. And, unbidden, she remembers flowers on a gravestone, and a quiet voice, and a story. Even if it were just a model, even if it didn’t have practical use… it had significance. He would like it.

“There are some good ones that have been made,” Tang Rou says. “I remember seeing some that even had shapeshifting capabilities.”

“…Okay,” says Chen Guo, nodding slowly. “We can definitely look into that. We have time, we could do this. Make a nice card, too…” Murmurs and nods of agreement from all around the table.

“But also I still think we should throw in the mug,” grins Fang Rui. “He’d love it, I’m telling you.”

Ye Xiu V

29 May 2025 22:03

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Team Happy - team of champions, master of kings, the best goddamn team in the entire universe.

Glory isn’t a single-player game - thank you all <3 :)