#archive work sounds so neat

[st7arlight]

not me going into library sciences and only considering the route of an archivist after completing tma

[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL [ch. 2]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter One

➨ Chapter Two

Next: Chapter Three

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): daddy issues, invasion of personal space

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER TWO

Once again, you found yourself having no clue what you signed up for. At this point, it was on you. You should have learned your lesson the last time you put your trust in someone.

This time, instead of being booted through a portal into hell, you were being dressed up like a doll. The outfit you arrived in wasn’t ‘hellspawn’ enough so Charlie was throwing a plethora of outfits at you and seeing what stuck. You had to admit, you liked how the new clothes looked on you, but Charlie would scrutinize them before changing them again.

Personally, you thought you were being a pretty good sport about it. 

Just when you thought it was over, she dragged you in front of her vanity before darting out of the room. This worried you. It was safe enough to assume she was going to do something with your hair or makeup, but what did she need that wasn’t already here?

You began looking around her bedroom, taking in the details of the rich maroon wallpaper and the way the wood paneling complemented it in both shape and color. Her bed was truly something to be envious of, though. It seemed to be even bigger than a king, and the canopy frame allowed her to have translucent and opaque purple curtains draped in layers above it. 

It was possible the entirety of the hotel could look like this once it was thoroughly scrubbed down and decorated. A diamond in the rough, if you will.

You could probably afford to stick around for a day to help deep clean. They were doing so much for you despite being a stranger who had (politely) broken in. Had you been in their shoes, you would have done them in with an iron skillet first and asked questions later (in the courtroom).

You jumped as Charlie came scrambling back in with what seemed to be tubes of paint. You couldn’t help but feel concerned for what was to come.

The paint was squeezed into a bowl with a squelching sound similar to a ketchup bottle towards the end of its life. She reached across you to grab a makeup brush and began mixing it together.

Where did she think she was gonna put that?

You barely had time to react before she dragged the cold wet brush across your cheek. It only took her a minute to completely lather your face. You dared to look at yourself in the vanity mirror as she moved on to cover the rest of your exposed skin. Her gentleness tickled as the brush swept across your arms. She kept it rather neat to your surprise.

“Don’t worry. We just need to get the base down, and then we can spruce it up!” she chirped.

When you asked what there was to get ready for, this was not what you imagined. You could understand not wanting to look like a bum when meeting new people, but to go this far… Meeting a parent shouldn’t even matter if you’re not dating their kid. There was nothing you had to prove to Charlie’s father. Especially since you wouldn’t see him again so long as everything went according to plan.

The actual reason Vaggie suggested this was far more reasonable.

No, they weren’t just doing this to make you look pretty. They wanted to hide you completely. The idea was to make you look like a demon to the best of their ability in hopes of avoiding any unwanted attention. You understood why. Your first hour or so in Hell was pretty traumatic to say the least.

Vaggie went on to list all the things that could happen to you if you were found as a human, which did not help your nerves one bit. You could end up on someone’s dinner plate, or your teeth could be sold on the not-so-black market for a pretty hefty price. Your bucket list may be lengthy, but having your parts being used as someone else’s decor was sure as shit not on it.

Charlie tried to reassure you that her childhood home wouldn’t be so dangerous. However, she couldn’t promise her dad would have a positive reaction to a human wandering around, so it would still be safer to go in disguise. It would also draw far less attention from the staff, meaning you wouldn’t be stuck there so long.

You really got the vibe that she had daddy issues from how much she emphasized it being a quick trip. Not to mention her reluctance to go in the first place…

Charlie finished up the base coat of paint and moved on to add details to make it more realistic. She then adjusted your hairstyle to cover your hairline where the edges of paint were most noticeable.

“Okay, okay, now the final touch…” she said as she bounced over to her closet behind you.

You couldn’t see what she was grabbing. You only felt something being placed on your head. Before you could look in the mirror, Charlie invaded your view and shoved a pair of glasses onto your face.

You were dragged over to her golden cheval mirror.

“Grand reveal!” 

You certainly didn’t look human anymore. Your natural complexion was completely hidden, and the thing Charlie placed upon your head was a pair of fake horns, which she was bobby-pinning in place to ensure they’d stay put. The outfit itself you really liked, but the glasses she had chosen were in the shape of large hearts with bold red tint.

You felt so goofy.

You’d rather be offered up to one of the demonic cannibals than be caught looking like this in the living world. Your only solace was that the majority of people in Hell looked even stranger than you. That, and the amount of coverage you had made you feel like you were wearing a mask that you could hide behind..

“You look…amazing!” Charlie sang, hopping up and down a little. You may have felt a little embarrassed by your get-up, but the joy on her face nearly made it worth it. “Come on, we have to show Vaggie!”

You trailed behind her down the stairs where Vaggie was waiting to send the two of you off. She couldn’t tag along due to prior arrangements. If you remembered correctly, she was going to be interviewing potential guests for the hotel. Real guests rather than a human who had washed up on their doorstep. 

“Vaggie, Vaggie, look!” Charlie called. “You would never guess she was human, right?”

Vaggie looked you up and down analytically before locking onto your face.

“It turned out pretty good, but, uh…” She gestured at her own eyes rather than pointing at you. “What’s with the shades?”

“Well…Her eyes were the only thing I couldn’t really disguise, so the sunglasses will keep them from being visible!” Charlie said with a big grin, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. “They’re also so cute.”

She and you must have very different tastes, but who knows, this could be what was trendy here in Hell. Even if it wasn’t, she made a good point. Of the few demons you’d seen, none of their eyes looked like a typical human’s.

Two beeps from outside the hotel were your cue it was time to head out.

“It’ll go great,” Vaggie said to Charlie, rubbing her back.

“Right…we’ll be back soon!” Charlie said as she led you outside where a white and pink limo was waiting. 

Oh. So she was rich then.

You figured the hotel itself wasn’t too cheap, but the condition it was in didn’t make it seem like it would break the bank. This was a clue into Charlie’s status that had yet to be revealed to you.

The drive through town allowed you to take in the sights rather than watching it all blur by whilst running for your life. There was a good range of shops between ‘normal enough’ to ‘I’d expect no less from Hell.’ Some sold electronics and furniture while others advertised hitman services.

You were pretty sure you passed a vending machine that sold hard drugs.

Watching the denizens made you thankful that you were in the safety of the car. A woman in a business suit doing lines off a public bench before waltzing into the city library. A sketchy dude hanging around the outside of a rundown playground… He seemed to be mocking one of the kids before it launched itself at him, going straight for the jugular.

You looked away before you witnessed something you’d regret.

Charlie caught your eye, shooting you a wide grin. You did your best to smile back.

You wondered where her father would fall on the spectrum of people here. Would he be out for blood like the majority of folks you’d seen? If so, you’d be with Charlie trying to get out of there as quickly as you could.

“Park down here, please!” you heard Charlie say to the driver after a while.

Your surroundings hadn’t changed much from where you started out. The city did seem to be a bit more residential in this area, but the level of chaos remained the same.

You followed Charlie out of the vehicle, expecting to walk into one of the many townhouses lining the uneven street. Instead, she took you down a few blocks and around a corner. It was as if she didn’t want your arrival to be known. To be fair, you didn’t either. The thought of any interactions with Hell-dwellers beyond Charlie and Vaggie made you nervous.

You found yourself standing in front of tall golden gates attached to a stone wall that encircled a grand manor. It was massive, at least twice the size of the hotel, with elegant gold detailing around the windows and pillars. Even though it was gorgeous, you were a little thrown off by its odd shapes and red stripes that reminded you of a circus tent.

It was quite the niche aesthetic…

The front door opened as soon as the two of you reached the top of the stairs, greeted by a small red demon. He had black and white striped horns and wore a cute little suit that reminded you of a butler.

“Welcome back, miss,” he said, dipping his head a bit as he stepped aside to let us in. “I was unaware you would be visiting. Is your father expecting you?”

“Oh, no…” Charlie began fiddling with her hair. “We were just passing by when I remembered I wanted to…pick something up! It’s good to see you. I wish we could catch up, but my friend and I are on a tight schedule.”

Her laugh was forced as she grabbed your shoulders and began pushing you down the hall, ignoring the way you stumbled along. She told you that there would be a room where her dad kept an array of magical tools and artifacts. Most were gifts to earn his favor, she explained.

It made you wonder what sort of industry he was a part of where people were trying to suck up to such a degree.

Pictures lined the hallways with the majority having Charlie as the subject. Their golden frames contrasted nicely against the striped red wallpaper.

You couldn’t help but stop to look at one from when she was in an awkward preteen phase of her life. She was quick to notice and pull you away with a red face. You couldn’t help but chuckle.

Your relationship with Charlie was nothing deep. The two of you had only met the day before, afterall. But seeing bits of her past like this felt intimate in a way one would share memories with a friend. You hoped it didn’t embarrass her too much.

Maybe you would show her some of your baby pictures to make up for it later.

“Oh, this was my old bedroom! One second, there’s something I do want to grab,” she said as she pulled you to a stop before darting inside.

You peeked in through the doorway. It was similar to her current bedroom in some ways, another canopy bed with a plethora of drapery around it and a beautiful vanity with a soft glow emanating from behind it. Yet it was clear that it once belonged to a child from the stuffed animal collection and softer color palette.

Charlie had wandered over to a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf, rummaging through it as she searched for whatever it was she remembered.

You waited outside the doorway. It felt inappropriate to enter a place so sentimental to someone who was largely still a stranger to you. Seeing so many portraits from her past already seemed like a breach of her privacy even though you couldn’t help it. It’s not like you could wander around the halls with your eyes closed.

As you turned away from her room, a small man came strutting around the corner, donned in all white save for a red waistcoat and black knee-high boots. He was about to proceed down the hall perpendicular to yours before skidding to a halt.

His head whipped around to face you, and you froze.

Shit.

His pale blonde hair, ghostly white skin, and rosy spots on his cheeks made him nearly identical to Charlie. He had to be either the father or a brother that she had yet to mention.

He stared into your damn soul, unmoving. You wondered if he could see right through your disguise. Through the paint on your skin to the blood that pulsed underneath. Past your skull to the thoughts racing through your mind.

You stood stalk still in your spot, as well, staring right back at him. You felt it was the only thing you could do. It was either that or book it, but you weren’t paying attention to the turns you took to get to this point. You’d be lost in a heartbeat. Imagine how stupid you’d look then.

So you opted to harness your inner statue. You didn’t dare move a muscle in case–by some miracle–he could only detect movement. If you were lucky, he would shrug and continue strutting away.

Manifest…manifest…manifest–

“Who are you?” He demanded in a deadpan voice as he jabbed his cane in your direction.

Shittt.

“I’m–uh…” Your eyes darted to the side before landing back on him. “Who are you?”

Meeting the parents was never your forte.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Dad!”

Thank fucking god.

His eyes lit up and a massive sharp-toothed smile spread across his face, completely forgetting about you the instant Charlie entered the hallway. 

“Charlie!” he practically screamed, arms spreading wide into the air. You had to duck out of the way as he threw himself onto his daughter. One would think he was attempting to squeeze the life out of her with how tightly he was holding on.

She looked miserable.

You did your best to hide your smile at the exchange. You could remember all the times you were embarrassed by overly affectionate loved ones shamelessly kissing and cooing at you in front of your peers. You were sure that at least half the time it was done so with malicious intent.

On the flip side, it was always quite enjoyable to witness it happening to others.

“I know, Dad. It’s good to see you, too…” She was patting his back, an attempt to signal she was ready to be let go.

“Why didn’t you tell me you would be visiting? We could have planned something fun to do ahead of time–”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment thing! We weren’t originally planning on dropping by, but I remembered there was something I wanted to grab, so…” she lied.

You were unaware she hadn’t given her dad any sort of heads up at all. You felt bad that you were sneaking in without his knowing. Especially since he seemed so overjoyed just to get to see her.

“Speaking of,” she redirected, stepping aside and turning to you. “This is one of my friends–”

“Ah, it is so nice to meet you!” he eagerly cut in.

You were only going to exchange a small wave, but he practically jumped on you, grabbing your hand and shaking it with exuberance.

“My goodness, Charlie never brings her friends over. This–this is so exciting!”

He was so close that it gave you goosebumps. He looked less human than Charlie, but not quite animalistic like the other demons you’d seen. His red pupils were much smaller than hers, bordering on snake-like slits, and all of his teeth were akin to daggers. She must have gotten her more human qualities from her mother.

You did your very best to smile as genuinely as you could.

“It’s nice to meet you, too–uh–Sir.”

He drew back, finally giving you space. Then his eyes lowered to your mouth.

You quickly sealed your lips.

Was he looking at your teeth? They wouldn’t give you away, would they? Charlie and Vaggie had mostly dull teeth aside from their abnormally sharp canines. If he asked, you could tell him you wanted to see how far you could file them down…

Worrying about your appearance made you uncomfortably aware of the paint coating your skin. It felt so thick all of a sudden. So sticky but also dry. And the fake horns were so heavy. God, you wanted nothing more than to rip it all off.

Your heartbeat was picking up speed.

Did his eyebrow just twitch?

His eyes narrowed slightly but that grin held fast. He briefly looked down to his hands before returning to your face, rubbing his gloved fingers together. It was as if touching you left an uncomfortable feeling behind that he was trying to get off.

“I’m glad we got to run into you, but we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so we should get going,” Charlie said, laughing nervously as she tugged on your sleeve.

“It was nice meeting you,” you repeated with a dip of your head before following her down the hall.

You could feel his eyes on you while you walked away. As you turned the corner, you glanced back to confirm you were just paranoid. 

His red eyes were locked onto you. He hadn’t moved from his spot, and his smile was gone.

Relief washed over once you were out of his line of sight. There’s no way he knew you were human. He couldn’t have been able to tell from just your teeth.

But then why did he look at you so strangely?

Your anxiety began to let up more and more as you got further away. Glancing over at Charlie, you could tell she, too, was bothered. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips pursed. She kept silent until you finally arrived at the room you came here for in the first place.

It was filled with shelves that held a wide variety of objects. From books, to statues, to strange glowing orbs on pedestals…

If you could find what you needed quickly, none of this would matter. You wouldn’t have to worry about Charlie’s dad figuring you out. You would be back home, safe and sound.

Where it was a good thing you were human.

Where the only things you had to worry about were bills and boy troubles.

“Alrighty,” Charlie said, closing the door after you. “I’m not really sure where to start, but some of these should have labels or descriptions or something.”

That was reassuring.

You each got to work, filing through piece by piece. She wasn’t wrong about some being labeled, though their names often told you little to nothing about what they actually were or what they could do.

As you went to flip through an old book similar in appearance to Devon’s, it was engulfed in purple flames. You gasped, backing away and colliding with something behind you.

Spinning around in hopes of preventing whatever you bumped into from falling, you came face to face with Charlie’s father.

Your heart stopped.

“Might I help you find something?” The smirk adorning his lips as he leaned closer was not comforting whatsoever. You were beginning to understand Charlie’s distress. This man had no concern for personal space.

Wide-eyed, you glanced over at Charlie who looked nearly as alarmed as you to see him there. You side-stepped away so that you were no longer sandwiched between him and the shelves.

“Dad…” Charlie drawled. “Don’t you have something more important to be doing right now?”

“What could possibly be more important than my favorite daughter? It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you!” he said, facing her.

“I’m your only daughter,” Charlie groaned.

“Uh-huh, which is why I want to spend as much time with you as I can~” he sang as threw an arm around her shoulder. “Say, have I gotten to show you my newest ducks yet?”

“No…look we’re really busy right now.”

“Right, right. Looking for something that you need,” he said, waving his hand in the air as he recalled her previous words. “In this room of all places?”

That made Charlie stiffen. 

“Ah, well–uh…”

“She was just showing me around while we were passing,” you spoke up. You were so thankful that your smile didn’t falter when his half-lidded eyes turned to you once more. “It would have been a shame to have missed out on so many amazing relics.”

“I’m sure,” he hummed. “If you’re curious about any in particular, I can tell you all about them.”

He relinquished Charlie to step up to you again.

“Were you a historian when you were alive?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Ah…No…” you said, looking off to the side. There was a moment of silence before you realized he was probably expecting you to specify your occupation. “I was a clinical technician. Items such as these would be interesting to anyone though, I’d imagine.”

“And what did you do to wind up here in Hell?”

What?

“Um, I didn’t…”

“Many would assume working in the medical field would earn you a one-way ticket straight to Heaven, so what could you have possibly done to land yourself here?” His tone turned serious, eyes narrowing.

You needed to calm yourself down. He was probably just interrogating you to ensure his daughter was keeping good company. You’d likely do the same if your child was surrounded by a bunch of sinners with some of the worst track records known to man.

What answer could you give him that was justified enough but didn’t make you sound like a psycho?

You stole a bunch of human blood and used it in a satanic seance.

He didn’t need to know that.

Premarital sex?

No, he had no business knowing about your sex life either.

“I cheated on a test once,” you answered with a guilty smile.

He gave you the most deadpan stare you’d ever seen.

“Premarital sex, too.”

“That’ll do it!” Charlie chimed in.

“That’s the whole reason Charlie and I met actually,” you said, trying to redirect the conversation. 

Both gave you odd looks. That probably wasn’t the best way to follow up that statement, but oh well. 

“She told me all about how I can redeem myself at the hotel she’s running! I hope to one day reclaim my virginity until I find that special someone.”

You smiled sweetly in hopes that it would earn you a few more brownie points. Weren’t you just the most precious little sinner?

“That’s right! She only recently got here, and she’s already seeking redemption! Isn’t that fantastic?” Charlie placed herself at your side, presenting you as if you were a class project. “She hasn’t even heard about the extermination yet!”

“The what?” You turned to face her.

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved you off.

Her father had both hands propped upon his apple cane as he squinted at the two of you. You were clearly hiding something but he had yet to figure out what.

Trumpets began to blare from right beside you, causing even more strain on your frantic heart.

“Hehe, sorry, one second,” Charlie said, pulling her phone out of her pocket to check whatever notification caused that horrid noise. There was a moment of silence as she read the message before her eyes widened, and she went slack jawed. “Shit.”

Well. That didn’t sound good.

Her father looked concerned about her reaction, as well, placing himself at her side with a hand on her arm as he looked up at her.

“Is everything alright, sweetie?” he asked in a soft tone.

“It’s nothing,” she shook her head, pulling away from him. “It was nice seeing you, Dad, but we really have to go now.”

She grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the room with her, leaving her father behind without a second glance.

Next Chapter

♡ ♡ ♡

tag list: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z

[dbs-scans]

Minamoto Supernatural Detective Agency — April Fool’s Day 2023

April Fool’s! Nah, this one’s the real deal—here’s a translated archive of the event hosted on AidaIro’s twitter during April of 2023.

Day 1

“Hello, you’ve reached the Minamoto Supernatural Detective Agency—” “Oh, it's just you, Kou. Yes, of course.” “All right, I'll see you at 8 PM.”

Click! Booop, booop....

Day 2

Somewhere in the city lies an ultra-famous detective agency that boasts a terrifying case-solving rate...

[Teru] “Welcome, I've been expecting you.” “I look tired, you say? Haha, I've been working on a big case that came in yesterday.” “But I have plans to go on break tomorrow, and I'm used to pulling all-nighters, so don't worry about me.” “You reporters are just as busy, right?”

“I've collected the info pertaining to the Ryokan Case over there.” “Huh? You don't know where I mean? Sorry, I've been so busy that I haven't had a chance to organize everything.” “All my other case files are scattered around... but I won't mind if you search through them for it.”

Various items have been scattered throughout the detective agency. What interests you is the...

POLL:

Old Flier

Strange Magazine

Dirtied Diary ✅

Left-on TV

It's a diary with a cute design. It's terribly dirty, as if someone had dropped it somewhere. You can see a footprint left behind where somebody stepped on it.

Everyday events have been written inside with neat handwriting: “The potted flowers we planted bloomed today.” “Went out with a friend.” “I spotted a cute cat.”

...But the diary entries abruptly cut off, and a message written in another person's hand-writing has been left behind: “Go Away.”

[Teru] “Ahh, that's unrelated to the ryokan.” “A client asked me to locate the diary of someone precious to them.” “I did find it, but as you can see... her work environment was rather poor.” “She set her sights on a new career path, and left to do field research, but I'm not sure where...”

――Knock Knock! “Hm?” “Looks like somebody's here. Is it another job request...?”

[Akane] “Oh, there's a guest here. Hello.” “I came to pick up something I left behind before I leave! I'm going on a trip with my childhood friend!” “A vacation to the hot springs, all by ourselves... I can't squander this. I've finally made it...” “Enjoy working on your day off, Chief! See ya!”

[Teru] “A hot springs vacation with his childhood friend, huh...” “Oh, that was one of our staff members. It seems he's going to be taking some time off, as well.”

Now, where should I check next?

POLL:

Old Flier

Strange Magazine ✅

Left-on TV

A mysterious magazine titled Monthly MO has been left here. There’s a bookmark inside. A special report on cryptids...?

[Teru] “Reports of cryptids at the ryokan are almost never-ending.” “If you go there, try seeing if you can catch one. You might earn some extra pocket money if you do.” “Haha, I'm just kidding, of course.”

Now, what’s next? 🐈The investigation continues tomorrow at 8PM🐈

POLL:

Old Flier

Left-on TV

Cassette Tape ✅

Day 3

It's an old cassette tape. I'll try playing it. ...It's a man recounting how he was spirited away as a child and wandered into a mysterious ryokan in the mountains. He sounds oddly happy about the experience.

“...and that was how I returned to human civilization.” “I'll never forget the girl who helped me to escape from there. Never ever~!”

“She told me ‘you must never come back here again,’ but it's my dream to return one day and be reunited with her.” “If it meant being with a beauty like her, then I’d do anything—I’d even become a cat...!!!”

[Teru] “To be attracted to someone that isn't even human? What a freak.” “I can't relate at all.”

Now, what should I check next?

POLL:

Old Flier

Left-on TV ✅

The 12 o'clock news is on. It appears that the children of the leaders of the East and West yakuza organizations have gone to dinner together. Rumor has it that they're considering an arranged marriage to unite the criminal underworld.

“Now this is just plain dumb. A political marriage, in this day 'n age?”

“Wait, you don't want to get married?” “Huh?”

[Teru] “Wow, they'll make a news report on just about anything.” “I'll change the channel~”

Now, what’s next? 🐈The investigation continues tomorrow at 8PM🐈

POLL:

Old Flier

Old Newspaper Clipping ✅

Day 4

It's a newspaper clipping from 50 years ago. During a national tour, a popular circus troupe had their tent burst into flames in the middle of the night and burn to the ground.

Officially, the cause of the fire is unknown, but on that night, two small figures were spotted fleeing from the scene of the crime. However, there was only one child registered with the circus troupe at the time—a single animal handler, who went missing after the incident. The child was known for doting on his pet black cat.

[Teru] “Rumor has it there's someone at the ryokan who looks exactly like the child who went missing, completely unchanged over the years.” “I wonder what that means...?”

Now all that's left is the old flier.

There's a tattered, yellowed flier lying around—a notice for a lost cat. It appears the cat went missing over ten years ago...

[Teru] “What a big cat. Cute, isn't she?” “They said she was a strange cat who would dance on nights of the full moon.” “Apparently they never found her... but lately, I've heard reports that a cat with similar characteristics was spotted near the ryokan.”

I've finished surveying the results of the agency's investigation. Now, for the final step, I'll ask for information concerning the person I'm looking for. 🐈 The final investigation begins tomorrow at 8 PM 🐈 

Day 5

This is what the person I'm looking for left behind. I've brought it here with me.

[Teru] “About that coworker of yours who disappeared, the photographer...” “So far we haven't found any concrete proof that kid is staying at the ryokan.” “It's possible he might have disappeared of his own free will...”

That's what the guys at work all said. That he ran out on us 'cause the job’s too hard. But...

He'd never go off and leave his camera behind. Something must have happened to him out there...

[Teru] “I see. In that case, you should trust your intuition.” “Even if there's no evidence to support it, there's still a chance he could be there.”

“...And with that, I believe we’ve gone through everything that my investigation turned up.” “So what's your next move? There isn’t much left to do except actually going to the ryokan itself.” “If you hire me, I can tag along and...”

[Teru] “Oh, you're going alone? Since you don't want to bother me when I'm on vacation?” “But you know, they'll probably be less suspicious if we go together... Have you already got a ticket?” “Oh... You're so responsible, Kou. Your big brother is very proud of you.” “Okay, see you. Be careful out there.”

[Teru] “......” “A trip to the hot springs, huh?” “Not like I've got anything better to do. Maybe I’ll go, too.”

📺⚡

BZzT zzzZzZT......

🐈

"Human society brings endless pain and suffering~♪" "The youth of today with nowhere to belong feel nothing but frustration~♪"

"Let the hot spring's waters wash your troubles away~♪"

"And let your bellies be satisfied by our tasty food~♪"

"So come on down—" "To the Bakeneko Ryokan Hanako-tei!" 🐈 The End 🐈

[lclrcs]

I Am Going to Die in the Mirror in Which You Loved Me Pt. 1

summary: logan has lived his whole life completely invisible. oscar has lived his whole life under the idea that all love is unconditional. when logan meets oscar, his world is flipped around.

Logan always found it difficult to make friends. He found himself too difficult to be seen, to be loved enough to be more than a ghost haunting his classmates. He was only 12 years old. He was far too young to find the forever love shown in movies or the parents of his cheerful school friends, yet still too old to have never experienced the promises of what would be unconditional love. It wasn’t his fault. He had grown up with parents who did not see him; parents who would raise him to be the invisible shell of a tweenage boy merely because they had a son too early. Someone should have taught that a son does not carry a wedding ring nor will he be the glue for a newfound love that was nothing more than a fizzled-out spark. The love they could’ve forged from the gift of life was long forgotten in a troubled stream of shouting and opioids. 

The young blonde settled himself into his assigned seat. He was square-center in the classroom: the perfect place to be invisible, the perfect place to blend into the noise of his classmates that surrounded him. He looped his navy blue backpack straps around the back of his chair, digging out his folder and pencil case. For someone so young, Logan was neat and clean almost as if he was waiting to finally be seen and loved on the sole basis of being clean-cut. He had always wondered if his parents were cleaner, would they be able to love him? Would cleanliness clear the plate of stress that had piled up to allow him to slip onto their plate even for just a moment?

The door to the classroom swung open, a hush falling over the classroom. The sudden silence was quickly replaced with the sound of dress shoes clacking on the linoleum tiles. However, Mr. Vettel was not alone like usual. His hand, which usually held a mug of coffee, held a manilla folder full of loose papers. A small brunette trailed behind him, just a few steps behind with slow enough strides to give the impression that the new boy was cooler than the rest of the class. The boy had his head bowed slightly, his eyes locked onto the floor as if he needed to study every tile below his feet. His hands squeezed the straps of his bright orange backpack so tightly that it made his backpack rest almost partially up the back of his neck. If you were naive enough, you would’ve thought that he had to hold onto the straps to keep them together.

“Class,” Mr. Vettel’s German accent bounced off of the brick walls, “I’d like you to meet our newest student.” He reached over, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Oscar, would you like to introduce yourself?” 

[faeriekit]

🥭 Rank from most enjoyable/fun to write to least: Fluff, Smut, Angst, Crack.

I can't remember which fic got me into your writing but I am really enjoying health and hybrids I think the attention to detail with language barriers is neat 😊 I feel like these options can be mixed a lot in writing would the ranking change depending on the combos?

I need you to know before anything that I had half this post penned and my computer randomly refreshed my post and burnt all of it. 💀

So. I can't. Uh. I can't do all of my fics on a scale, because of, um,

that. So. I'm just going to do a straight best to worst. Sound good? Great because I have no other idea how to tackle any of this.

Fluff:

Best: Snowdrift Sanctuary. Although even my best fluff has a little bit of angst in it, this is a sweet, warm story of inter-species fostering and the care it provides. What's not to love? It was even a Phic Phight fill, so I got to surprise someone with it.

Worst: Rituals and Rites. There's nothing wrong with this one; it's a cute ask fill, it's got some great silliness in it and a little irreverence, and I'm always happy to archive my stuff on ao3 lest tumblr finally pull the plug, but I always dislike uploading individual lil' things onto ao3 when there isn't much to them. It's not bad, I just...don't have a lot of fluff to pad out this binary lol

Smut:

Best: Lazy Sunday. By the time I got to this one I'd largely already hit my stride writing smut stuff, I liked how this couple gelled (and even have a few as-yet-unwritten scenes of their relationship I may never get around to!) and I like the couple as they are: weird and complicated and persevering into a yet-unseen realm of intimacy! I'm also not super into the kink in question, so it was super nice to see the piece well received by people who are into it and thought it worked well lol. How sad would it be if you tried to write a niche kink and it ended up completely flopping lmao T_T I'd never show my face in this town again.

Worst: A Visitation. Do not get me wrong, I love this fic, but you gotta remember that I wrote the first chapter completely exhausted and out of my gourd with fucking cauvid. 😭 I'm shocked it came out coherent at all! And everyone helped me workshop the last chapter, and it took forever to the point where I was writing like thousands of words a day and it was eating up my whole life...and sometimes I still go back in to reread it and I find MORE errors! 😭😭 This fic had all the birthing pains! Worth it, but OW!

Angst:

Best: Dig Three Graves In Apartment 31C. I rreeeeeeally almost put Hybrids here, but in the end, Hybrids is a hopeful recovery fic. This fic is all grief and loss and the stench of the aftermath of acute trauma in the air. It is sad— sometimes I still get comments shocked at how well it worked lol— and although the excruciatingly tough epilogue yon author had to write lifts it a little, it's not... There's no cure for this. Everyone in this picture is dead. That's just the way it is.

Worst: Feet on the Ground. A similar deal: I really like this fic but there wasn't a great ending line to close on so it's just...mediocre. I probably should have just waited to see if time would fix it, but it was a Phic Phight fill and we're kind of on a timer during the event, and I wanted to get it out so I could start working on other people's asks, so... 6/10. Fascinating concept, mid execution.

Crack:

Best: Infection versus Infestation. It was either this or one of the MPreg fills lmao, and I just. There's just so much going on here. The support network. The mental health. The powerpoint presentations. Bees. Medical pamphlets. Aliens. QPRs. Maybe the real fic is in the groupchats you made along the way. No notes hands down my one true rec for weird fics; all the way up and all the way down, it's inherently GenderFucked and surreal and young idiot adult bullshit. I love them your honor.

Worst: Percy Jackson, God of the Shrimps. A discord in-joke never makes sense as a discord out-joke. I am astounded people read this to this very day. I make it worse every time I even mention it in a post, but hey, that's showbiz. If you read this and actually found something there, more power to you. If you read this and were like "???"...yeah lmao

I'm glad you're liking health and hybrids so far! It's so funny to think that Hybrids used to be my downtime fic to recover from my other fics lmao...now it's beating Blister Pack to the tune of an additional 100,000 hits. I genuinely can't even conceptualize that number in my head. It's a such a bonkers concept that so many people could be glancing at a medical trauma fic from lil' ol' me. High school Faer who took anatomy classes for fun would be ecstatic. In the end, I tried to get a couple of unique fics to fill each category just because I like them so much. Sue me. It's my fic and sometimes I wanna talk about them with people lol.

Thanks for asking! 🧡🧡🧡🧡 This was fun!

[demonicnarwhale]

Carapaces!!!!

RC / Raptorial Clerk: RC is one of the archivist on Prospit who deals with mainly Prospit's history and keeping things neat and tidy (just in case if it's needed then carapaces can go to him and retrieve that information) there's other archivists for different sections of society like political, economical, etc. When Midnight City happens / fall of the kingdoms he ends up being a librarian teehee

his origins: and due to his specialties being historical archiving, he's in the same department or area as HK and the two are actually hatch friends!!! YAYYYYY!!!! (they are both smiling)

HN / Harbinger Newel: Newel is just the sort of look the outpost tower he's situated at looks like as seen in the small doodle. He just blows his clarinet looking instrument (i giggle since he choses to play the actual clarinet in CMS) when there's some arrival. There's a certain tune he plays depending on what it is. Enemies/Derse army or Prospit army / workers.

WN / Willowy Notary: She's basically some note taker for court records and such. The cloth covering her eyes is a form of "judgement solely based on the case itself" rather than having any bias (that and I wanna continue her lil "no eyes can be seen" thing going on :D. So like she sits in the court room (grinning so wide when i get to share their architecture and infrastructure) and notates what happens and is being said so that if the case needs to be continued/looked at later to come up with the "right" decision they have a reference. Or if there's important documents being signed and such, she's a witness. (like whatever actual notaries do)

MG / Monoceros Goliath: I thought I was gonna be so smart with the first word, tried searching up for a word to describe a horned animal or synonyms for rhinos (cuz haha helmet rhino beetle) but i got no answer(s) and the ones I did related mainly to constellations. Monoceros mainly just being some Greek word for a legendary animal with a horn so like a unicorn. Weeps guys I'm not cut out for elaborate names.

Also she's (so far) a pawn mainly or somewhere near being a rook but not quite there hence being goliath as she's pretty strong/big for a pawn yay. oh yes and she's well aware of innocent lives (aka farmers or pawns that aren't in either army) and so she'll send out a warning or make it known so said carapaces can evacuate/gtfo (both for Prospit and Derse). Like she wants to make it fair and also avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Or something like that cuz overthinking on it makes me think it sounds silly and odd.

Her armor does have some little pearl-like beads cuz why not :) and- and- and it's supposed to be like constellations with the metal engravings (that im too simple minded to give detail to)

Tallest soldier i have and the shortest (also! I had realized that Dynastinae is, THE SCIENTIFIC NAME FOR RHINO BEETLES OAUGRHAUGHRA clawing at my under eyelids (ive realized this while typing this all out <3) so it's either she's MG or DG

SH / Splendorous Headhunter: Basically she goes out and recruits or finds Dersites (who don't already have a job) some role in society that benefits both the community and themselves. Like she's not just going to randomly assign them jobs but try to understand the individual and go suggest jobs. Cuz like, there's of course other Dersites in this similar role (as her) that don't care. But to SH she thinks of it like "why would I make someone miserable, it makes no sense to force someone to do a job they dislike cuz work won't get done at an efficient rate" that and so there's no strikes-

CC / Canorous Clergyman: just listen to this: (and Powerwolf in general please guys oaughh I fucking love this band so so so so so so much)

Midnight Madona teehe i love Powerwolf so much oaugh my goodness (so much so i would've done gone gatekeep em but then i realized. that's corny. and this sorta genre??? is corny on its own in the best way possible, to me :)). but yes im just adding this here because i kept listening to it when drawing this mf

Midnight Madona (Orchestral Version) also the orchestral version fucking ROCKS (and all the other songs they do orchestral versions of) and is what I like to imagine Derse's choir would sound like (the tone or feeling more than the words teehee and of course not with a big ass orchestra track behind ok you know what I MEAN) like do to around the same time stamp as the version above gehehee

I also already kinda explained his whole deal in a previous post. here be CC. But basically, he's more of a figure for individuals to look to either for help or a sense of "oh so this is what we should be doing for our society". So yeah, he's like, the royal family lol, no real political power as he's a lower status bishop. Like, he's a Bishop for the individuals, to ensure they fall in line and yadda yadda support the community and all. Kinda like, a pastor lol

KH / Kinetoscopic Hallucinator: Due to Derse being, ya know, Derse, connections with these fuckassers (horrorterrors) is prone to happen. As we've seen with players and even Feferi having gigglybob and yay yadda Derse Void dreamers yadda. Basically he gets to listen to all the wonderful stories of the past these eldritch beings share with him. Whereas Prospit gets those lil clouds from Skaia to hint at the future. So, he takes the words and stories from horrorterrors as signs of "precautions" or warnings of what may happen in the future. A sort of doomsday gig going on.

Teehe. He still gets to deal with trying to predict Derse's future but that's a bit hard on him so he turns to memorializing Derse's past, and the Horrorterrors give him information that can precede Derse or even what was missed from its history. But it's mainly just them messing with him going "oooh Derse is doomed in the foreseen future! OoooOoooh" and he goes "aight bet" then boom red miles upon ye. Oh and the kinetoscopic thing is just the fact he has his own lil kinetoscope where he enjoys (the process not the actual fact he needs to listen to them) trying to figure out what the Horrorterrors tell him and depicts it as short stories and then draws frames for a lil animation. He just replays them only to get a sense of dread lol. Later on just outcasts himself in his tower to deal with the horrorbobs instead of looking like a loon in front of everyone, possibly to Derse's moon because ahA obvious motifs! of like, the horrorbobs keeping him chained down and yeahhh

It's basically the medium or locations for Sburb/Sgrub but at the moment I'm more focused on Carapace + etc instead of trolls and humans. I ain't no physic astronomer or something so I'll go back and change things up if it's needed but like, I can bs some stuff right??? yeaaahhhhh.

The idea is like I know it's made for the game but what if no game??? It still very much takes after the set up for the medium with Sgrub but woe upon yet.

The locations of Prospit and Derse is why HK (Historiographic Knitter) and KH (Kinetoscopic Hallucinator) are able to look into the future/past. Due to the locations of their respected planets

HK being on Prospit can receive snippets of the future but it's all randomized so it's like she needs to put it all together, or just write down what she sees. She uses these to make stories or piece them together then create textiles for them along with the stories recorded of the past

KH being on Derse, yeah you read his gig.

Skaia: Trying to deal with what the point of Skaia is for both sides. I think I'll go with it's just been so embedded in both societies to either protect or destroy it that carapaces at this point just need to continue what their ancestors had fought for. Honestly, I'm just going to go with Jack Noir doing his red miles thing and destroying Prospit and Derse then killing (almost) all soldiers and the Kings on the battlefield leaving Skaia dormant. (But then whYYyy would he do that in this context)

Midlay: Basically this version's planet of where exiles go and where Midnight City will soon be made.

The Veil: just asteroids to make traveling to and from Prospit and Derse to be dangerous-ish so it's not like carapaces can just go to the opposing planet and cause chaos. If it's really needed then there's only a handful of carapaces suited for that job.

Dream Bubbles: I know it's thanks to Feferi that they're a thing, so they're not a part of this actual universe, BUT I thought they were just cool to include where I think they'd go.

Green Sun: hi Doc Scratch

In terms of like biology/features of carapaces:

I'm going with Carapaces either being like RC where they got them bug-wuggy/crusty marine life features or like HK with a more chess-come-to-life sort of look, thinking it might just be from the cloning? or however these freaks are made getting fucked over with the system or something, just cuz it could be like "oh it derives from chess pieces but also some bug-crustaceans-alien thing" and sometimes the bug-crustacean just wins. It's totally not so I can shit and giggle with other designs and stuff, what??? no. And then of course carapces can have spawn of their own, but lay eggs yadda yadda and so some of these features can get passed down and such. It's just cloning is used in both kingdoms to ensure there's a steady flow of carapaces to work on the planets or get thrown into battle and yeah.

NOTE AS OF NOW: I just copied and pasted information i had saved on them all and so I will most likely go back and fix things up, or make a new post if it's anything major like "Oh I'm changing this character up" but yeAH

[ineffableslytherinking]

Sorry this is late, but Chapter 6: A Power Play of my dark RadioStatic fic Prized Acquisition has been posted!

Eventually, Alastor gathered up the papers from where they had ended up somewhat spread over the make-shift table that was Vox, and once again organized them into a neat stack. “I’m finished,” he announced.  Immediately, Vox set his phone down and swung his legs over the side of the couch to sit up. “Great!” He took the papers from Alastor, deposited them on the side table next to his phone, and then turned back to pull him into a kiss.  Ah. Just when he’d started to think that was not the direction this night was going. But apparently, Vox just couldn’t help himself.  Alastor sighed and returned the kiss, not even putting up a fight when Vox proceeded to grab him by the waist and pull him onto his lap. He braced his hands on Vox’s shoulders, slipping his tongue into his mouth to entwine with his, and eliciting a moan from the other demon.  Kissing Vox really wasn’t so bad, Alastor had decided. It certainly wasn’t ideal, but he could make the most of it. He enjoyed the electricity, how easy it was to draw those delightful little sounds from Vox, and it was, of course, a perfect opportunity to indulge in his blood.  Alastor let his teeth slice against the television demon’s lip, and he hummed in delight as he lapped up his blood. Vox groaned, pulling him tighter against him and rocking his hips up into him. 

This is a dark fic where Vox owns Alastor’s soul, so please heed the warnings on AO3!

[halfusek]

man. batdr archives. what

i hate them

sorry im gonna go full on hater mode here because oh my god? oh my god

i’ve got a sneaking suspicion that this came out now as damage control for the AI thing because 1. it wasn’t included in the game all along like BATIM’s archives were and 2. this tweet

like was it thrown together in such a rush that they forgot a whole ass character?

or it is a joke and was a planned action half a year after the game came out but eh who knows

either way this is not what i’m here to rant about (cuz im sure this is gonna turn to a rant)

it’s about bad writing, bad exposition and bad game design. buckle up!

i see what they mean with the smile being a challenge to create, you can see in countless animations for fansongs how different artists tackled that and for one i think they did that very well

however. why the clothes exactly? is it just a meta reason with no reasoning in-universe whatsoever?

and look i’m not a fan of the ink demon having a voice (though i respect the craft behind it, the voice actor is very talented, it’s just a personal preference) BUT if you made the ink demon talk you should by logical extension either make toon bendy talk as well or explain why the hell he’s talking? i can see it being distracting but there are characters that have squeaky annoying voices in games and they’re fine (and it’s not like toon bendy is around the player for a super long time)

i dunno what logic this whole thing operates on anymore but if joey commissioned the ink machine then it should be his and arch gate got all his shit after he passed away so idk what retrieve is supposed to mean here

but it could just be badly written sentences and the archive is full of those (once again making me think that the thing was done in a rush)

that’s fair i guess

yall did make him look like a generic demon tho

i mean... it could be worse? if the goal was to make him look out of place then it was achieved but idk if it’s actually a good thing

i do like the bit about Wilson influencing how things look under him being in control of the cycle (though they have a very silly definition about what the cycle is but more about that later)

dude. the beast bendy design was already bad in BATIM and they made it even worse in BATDR like what TToTT

its just an angry mountain of muscles, the batim design at least had that leg injury thing going on which made moving with front arms make more sense, this dude right here is just a big inky gorilla (and not in a good way)

playing as the final form in on itself isnt a bad idea, does sound quite fun, personally tho i did not enjoy the very ending on the game

i dunno it just felt weird and all the other characters randomly appearing and the lost ones attacking being so awkward and ink demon acting as if they could kill you... nah man i wasn’t feeling it

okay so lets get this straight

cycle = a series of events that repeat

breaking the cycle would mean doing something different and stopping the cycle from continuing (so what... wilson was doing actually)

saying that making it restart again is what breaking it means is just??? no?

“satisfying face reveal” welp. each to their own XD

i see their purpose theme and thats neat and all but man do i hate how henry in this game is just. there and how some stranger is the person helping him get out of his horrible fate like its sooooooo unsatisfying

yeah she got more personality ill give her that

but she’s not a beacon of hope. she’s a beacon of tearing away the satisfaction of defeating a villain that we as the player worked hard towards

and uh... isn’t getting thrown into a horrible dimension full of monsters that audrey isn’t familiar with and is supposed to be freaked out about a bad moment to introduce a familiar face? like from a writing perspective, because it happens nearly instantly as chapter one starts

shouldn’t audrey be unmotivated then and struggling to figure out the world on her own? the player should also be haunted at this world, like it’s a horror game bestie ! don’t make me comfortable

well glad to hear the confirmation on that batds is happening in pararel to batdr

but his involvement in the main story is honestly such a nothing burger

is he there just so you can put batdr on the “can you pet the dog” site?

oh ok so what you’re basically putting down here is that he’s a boring perfect extremely rich guy, wasn’t even a bad father, completely stripping wilson’s arc of depth, cool, was afraid there would be something of substance powering the backbone of the plot of this game

and saying that both joey and wilson are worse people because theyre cringefail at business XDDDDDDDDDDD

ok here is something that im glad they addressed because ive been wondering about it - how audrey forgot that joey was her dad and how did she end up working at arch gate then

i suppose it implies that there’s something we might still learn/theorize about it, like for example if it was the machine drawing her in or gent wanting to get the machine back and manipulating things into place from behind the scenes

i really wonder how you can enter in and out the ink realm unnaturally but good to mention why he looks like that if he’s supposed to be nathan’s son

you cant just say that a character was important to the story, its not gonna happen from words

how is she important exactly? she just talks and uh.. helps audrey make the drink that makes you fall asleep? man that section of the game was Weird

i do want to like her, she seems nice and there could be interesting things to her backstory but as for the plot she really didn’t do much, sorry, betty

if you wanna say that pushing the plot forward by giving audrey that drink and then alice appearing outta nowhere and kidnapping here is a good big contribution then idk what to tell you... its such a bad way to make the plot progress, it was so confusing because characters were behaving as in forced to do Things to Progress the Plot (especially Audrey drinking that thing at all like seriously girl?? and Alice appearing comically at the last sip like wooooooow are you for real)

ah. so they were attempting a redemption arc

[saying this he didn’t threw aside the large rock. he was right to be holding the large rock]

this sucks man! what did joey help correct exactly? created more ink people to suffer eternally? wow, dude, thanks

also lmao what learned from his mistakes, did you HEAR his dialogue at the end of batim?? (an audrey can be heard right after that scene as well so isnt his whole change of heart supposed to be happening around here + allison has already been added to the squad)

it’s just... it’s just such bullshit man

you can make us like joey as a character but don’t you fucking dare make us like him as a person

bad. just bad

(aaaaaand this is the part that made me realize i wish the archives just. weren’t added! wow! i’m even surprised with myself with how much I Don’t Like them)

WHAT flaws??? hello??? please give it a big thinking and tell me what flaws does Audrey have im shaking and crying

also is her “deep dark past” supposed to just be like bEINg JoEY DRewS DAUghtER OOOoooOOo? lmao. wow so dark wow so deep

i dont know why this story needed a fresh pair of eyes because the story is that audrey is joeys daughter and that wilson is nathan archs son and that bendy is bendy. wow so deep so dark and complicated!!!!!!!11!!111

also whats the point of fresh eyes if you welcome us with familiar faces?

also sorry to break this to you but its not hard to stand out from the kinda cast that is presented to us in this game. sorry i cant decide if i care more about audrey or random employee number 24 with a random problem that i have 0 reason or time to get attached to. i seriously cant decide

suuuure we were so muddled xD oh you got us so good you sneaky little cheeky little quirky little

cant fucking believe we almost had a proper nathan arch jr and a secret one eyed villain that there was so much hype about and theories that they obviously tried to deliever here

its speculative but. knowing that they take inspiration from fan theories - they admitted to it and ex employees said so, i think we would have to be in some serious denial to think that @lucky-dreamfisher​‘s one-eyed bendy theory wasn’t meant to be represented here with wilson’s character

ALSO THIS NARRATIVE. THIS NARRATIVE HAS ZERO- NO, NEGATIVE AMOUNT OF COMPLEXITY

GOD

this story makes so much LESS sense based on what you said! aaaaaaaa we were so close to greatness

what is so wrong with not resetting the cycle then?

not that im a fan of how wilson was approaching things, he very clearly wanted to make himself the ruler of this realm and have power over everyone but sounds like that sure beats living under ink demons reign?

but also idk if this is entirely true like in batim chapter 5 we can see that lost ones were capable of making that lost harbour and sammy is later mentioned to have mastered a special ability too so??

i wish we learned more about the pit because it sounds quite interesting and we were working hard towards getting there and finally didnt get to see it at all (a shame! very unrewarding to the player)

im not gonna comment on reverting here cuz its a serious mental thing im not knowledgable about

i haaaate this

you... this is not how exposition is done!

show don’t tell?? how about SHOW don’t TELL??

what in the goddamn. you can’t just pull that outta your ass and say yep. this is how it is. bro. dude.

im referring here to the ink machine bit, the previous sentences can actually be seen in the story

but the design does not reflect what is written here

and they are doing so much of that in these archives, this telling of the story in a place that is not meant for telling of the story, you do that IN the STORY. rarghrgrh

surprise i found another nice thing: confirmation on that alice was the one who mutilated the butcher gang, cuz i dont think that was ever confirmed before but at least you can find implications of that in the game so its fine to outright confirm that here, good job about that

i dont know what theyre on about carley, she doesnt really look like that to me and ive looked at her model in the archives, in the files and at peoples renders of her and i just dont see it

but i guess it might mean it was like a suit that someone got stuck in- FNAF?!>!!>!?

no way. no fucking way

we got robbed what ToT

he was removed in favour of WHAT???? AMOK????

dude there ill be real. there’s barely anything that is worth keeping there instead of having him play a bigger role

and im not even that big on sammys character! hes one of my least liked characters personally even! but at least there is something more to him and just man after 5 years you could have given him more than just a dumb wilhelm scream joke, that almost feels like a spat in the face lmao

thanks for again confirming something though with that flow thing, as we noticed sammy uses gaps in the wall in batim chapter 2 to travel around the place

why not have him teach audrey the flow ability? imagine how could that would have been

im just baffled this exist but sammy apparently had to be cut out

lol

lmao

moving on

my brother in christ why are you making it a mystery if she will appear, she literally appeared in every game so far with quite major roles

also... what layers? sure in batim with her story (susie’s story) there sure been some layers, susie’s story in batim is probably aside from joey’s story the deepest character arc they got

but alice in batdr? she’s there to play a stupid game she set herself up to lose, get mad at that (eh?) shoot you and die

what layers, really

gender

but also idk i found the fight annoying and random, you could throw it out and not much of value would be lost, put sammy back in

YOU MADE HIM NOTHING

YOU TOOK A PERFECTLY FINE ENEMY AND GAVE IT ANXIETY THATS WHAT YOU DID /j /ref

idk if id describe the ink demon as putting the player on edge because he doesnt actually roam the place

you see a grey overlay on your screen and you need to hide or you die... which gets tiring fast and annoying

you totally could still have lurker (even if just restricted to some areas) as a free roaming monster

and the unlikely ally thing is just so bland like yeah he’s there, we know nothing about him aside from that he eats hearts, incredibly charming fella 

not thrilled by his design either but that issue i already had with the first trailer but i guess they just sticked with that

bendy devs not use mental illnesses as derogatory terms challenge

i like the crab boy design, he’s sillay

bro forgot a texture tho

so yeah not. happy with the archives

sorry if im like overly negative but ive honestly tried to give this sequel (because despite what they were saying it IS undoubtedly a sequel) my best assumptions and it turns out its nearly all the worst assumptions

its annoying, im annoyed

they should hire a writer to help them get this mess together, maybe get adrienne in on it, i dunno, because clearly if they need to be specific and not leaving things open like in batim, then they arent managing very well

they even fucking killed harold

[bobmcname]

Hello I kept forgetting to make this.

I've been needing an excuse to have a little resource of links and stuff for art. Cause my ADHD ass keeps forgetting. So I'm making it a post. I should mention most of my links are going to be 2D animation related because that's what I went to school for.

This is by no means exhaustive list. Feel free to reblog/reply with your own resources. They don't gotta be animation specific for the record.

The Big Ones:

PuccaNoodles' Compiled Animation/Art Resource Sheet https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/1/d/e/2PACX-1vQngQS6OcnUHJu9ldZoCva9749YW-dhaqfkbZtwu8Qw58rmYZeSCnye-lTQ8hT4dIi4q0Wdn3LK8ZZl/pubhtml Massive database for free and paid stuff. Ranging from foundational art, figure drawing, animation such. Lot of stuff.

ANIMATION WRITING RESOURCES https://docs.google.com/document/d/1DV030qteYcYmOIhn-VlD_N98kXJmMnM3stPVGD9emFI/edit

Animation/VFX/Game Industry Job Postings https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1eR2oAXOuflr8CZeGoz3JTrsgNj3KuefbdXJOmNtjEVM/edit?gid=0#gid=0

https://www.animation-festivals.com/ Hub having links to various worldwide film and animation festivals.

Animation groups: The Animation Guild https://animationguild.org/

Rise Up Animation https://www.riseupanimation.org/

Black N' Animated https://blacknanimated.carrd.co/

Queer TAG https://qtinanimation.carrd.co/

Stuff I Think Be Neat: Studying Storyboarding on a Budget: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1rtJQ7teHzWNmfJANr1RW6xE66jRu0TIKO-fB0VZhIN4/edit Mix of paid/free resources for animation storyboarding.

How To Animation Production: https://howtoanimationproduction.thinkific.com/ Paid class. Have not tried it myself but it looks worthwhile.

https://archive.org/details/gottfriedbammesdernacktemensch_201911/Andrew%20Loomis%20-%20Creative%20Illustration/ (has nudity)

Whole assortment of figure drawing books.

https://archive.org/details/morpho-fat-and-skin-folds_202307 (has nudity)

The Morpho series in general is pretty recommended for figure drawing stuff. But this especially is nice because plus-sized people do tend to get shafted when talking about anatomy.

http://www.madwomb.com/tutorials/BlenderIntro.html Free Blender tutorials.

Frank Summer https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLcaJvhWPggHLsJ_5inYFFG7rJ08QAXAuZ Kyu-bum Lee https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLmKGo-WEvo1pJlCH22OSlpKwoDM5H-a-H ZeBirdBrain https://www.youtube.com/@ZeBirdBrain/playlists Animation tutorials for ToonBoom and also general stuff. Zebirdbrain in particular has a TON.

https://learn.toonboom.com/modules Toon Boom also has tutorials of their own if you're more a reader.

Every Frame A Painting https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2w4TvBbdQ3sMABf317ExCob_v6rW2-4s Film analysis channel that I also recommend if you're looking into animation.

Buncha scans for Anime and games production stuff. https://setteidreams.net/

https://x.com/Studio_Meraki_/status/1756703590251393210 After Effects anime compositing tutorial. https://drive.google.com/file/d/1iPrRI2mhARpgZC_FZso5BWNjlROxq8FM/view Link to pdf.

https://www.youtube.com/@MotionActorInc/videos TONS of motion acting videos. If ya like your sword and fistcuffs well here ya go.

https://sound-effects.bbcrewind.co.uk/ Hey did you know BBC has ton of sound effects free for personal use?

https://www.ubu.com/sound/ Resource for sound art.

https://sites.google.com/site/tvwriting/ Archive of TV scripts.

Resources I don't got on me but are incredibly needed: "Hello, I am looking to do freelancing/contract work. How do I do my taxes?" Honestly business/legal advice in general is direly needed. I genuinely think any art curriculum should have at least one required business class because holy shit it is a major gap.

Also advice for animation jobs outside of TV/Film/Video Game animation. I know those are the things people think of when they think of animation, but it's also easy to get pigeonheld into thinking those are the only jobs (or the only *real* jobs) out there.

[ev-writes-things]

the state of you

the biggest struggles of writing this were choosing a name for the fic and for xie lian's demonic dish from the pits of hell LMAO

super scuffed hualian sick fic based on this post by @draweltz :) i legit speedran writing this in like three days and didn't edit so please forgive me if it's like. exactly as terrible as i expect it to be HAHA

i'm also notoriously terrible at writing proper endings so i apologize for that as well

u can read the fic here (under the cut) or on ao3

likes n rbs are super appreciated :)

Given the noises and scents emitting from the kitchen of their apartment, Xie Lian’s cooking wasn’t going… conventionally well. 

Hua Cheng didn’t mind in the slightest, though, humming to himself softly as he twirled his chopsticks expertly around his long fingers. He’d offered his help already, as usual, and Xie Lian had declined, wanting to surprise him with some kind of odd, inventive meal, as usual. 

He enjoyed being able to help Xie Lian in every way, but he didn’t argue too much about the cooking matter. Xie Lian was the first and only person who deigned to cook for him, and he seemed to take pleasure in preparing meals, so who was Hua Cheng to argue? 

Tapping his chopsticks against the wood of their low-set dinner table gently, Hua Cheng tried to contemplate what Xie Lian had made today. It was an impossible endeavor based on smell alone, but he tried regardless, calling out guesses to amuse his husband. 

“Is it… stew?”

“Nope,” Xie Lian called back over the sound of sizzles. 

Hua Cheng considered the noises. “Is it… meat?”

“Wrong!”

“Really? Then, is it-”

A light laugh from the kitchen instantly warmed Hua Cheng’s heart. “Stop guessing, San Lang! Let me surprise you for once.”

“Oh, I’m always surprised by your cooking,” Hua Cheng replied sincerely, earning him another laugh. 

“I’m almost done, okay? Just wait another minute or two,” Xie Lian told him. 

Instantly, Hua Cheng rose from his seat on the floor. “Does gege want help carrying plates to the table?”

“I’m alright!” Xie Lian chirped. A series of sharp clatters met Hua Cheng’s ears and he winced, concerned. “Okay, close your eyes.”

Hua Cheng obeyed, covering his good eye with one hand. Soft footsteps announced the arrival of the martial god, followed by the sound of two plates being set down gracefully on the table in front of him. 

“You can open your eyes now,” Xie Lian told him, and he moved his hand away.

The dish was, simply put, a monstrosity. Purple and pink bubbles popped at the surface of a thick, strange substance speckled with starbursts of orange and yellow. Equally horrible was the smell, pungent and awful. Hua Cheng looked up at his husband, seated to his left, with a grin. 

“What is it called?”

“I call it ‘Dreams of Summer Nights Passed’,” Xie Lian replied. 

Hua Cheng nodded affirmatively, picking up a spoon and stirring it through the plate. Beneath the pink and purple substance was a densely packed white… rock?

“And what’s in it?” Hua Cheng chipped away at the rock for a bite. He brought it up to his lips with a playful smile. 

“It’s rice and strawberry curry. I put carrots and corn in it, too. Look, Ruoye helped me cut the carrots into neat pieces!” 

Hua Cheng placed the bite in his mouth, chewing slowly. He scraped away at the rice-rock for another bite, mixing it with the curry again. 

“It’s good,” he said when he’d finished chewing. “I like it. It’s one of your best.”

Xie Lian beamed at him and pulled his own plate closer to himself. “I’m glad you like my cooking, San Lang,” he told the Ghost King happily, spearing a carrot with the sharp end of his chopsticks.

“Of course I do. What’s not to like about it?”

The god gave him a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “Do you not remember what happened to poor Quan Yizhen?” He popped the carrot into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“Well, it wasn’t your fault that he wasn’t strong enough to handle your food. I, for one, will never ever be sick of, or from, your cooking.”

“Does San Lang promise?” Xie Lian teased. 

“Of course, gege,” was his easy response, and he prepared another bite. “I promise.”

Xie Lian grinned at him and Hua Cheng grinned back, savoring the taste of the strange curry and Xie Lian’s happiness.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Hua Cheng woke up feeling terribly, horribly, awfully, dreadfully ill.  

He shuddered violently, and Xie Lian shifted in his arms. He froze immediately, then slowly disentangled himself from his sleeping husband, clenching his jaw against the waves of nausea rising up within him. 

When Hua Cheng had stumbled out of the room and down the hall, he slumped against the wall and hugged his stomach, willing himself to stay strong. 

You’re a Supreme Ghost King. You’re over eight hundred years old. You’ve lived through things that were thousands of times worse than this. This is ridiculous. 

He sucked a breath in through aching lungs- then stopped. 

The next thing he knew, he was heaving over the toilet. 

Hua Cheng shivered miserably, silvery pinpricks of sweat rolling down his spine. The bathroom floor was cold, colder than he remembered, and he clenched the sides of the porcelain bowl with a vengeance. 

Another wave of nausea came crashing over him, and he gave in to it, only caring now that his husband didn’t hear him. 

A quiet minute passed, then two. Hua Cheng rose on shaking legs to walk to the sink. He caught sight of his own reflection and shuddered. His gaze averted quickly and he splashed water on his face, trying to rinse the foul taste out of his mouth. 

What on earth was wrong with him?

He’d never before had this kind of reaction to the food that Xie Lian had cooked for him before. He’d prided himself in the way he never flinched, and had grown to thoroughly enjoy the food that was prepared for him with such love. 

Hua Cheng despised this feeling of weakness.

As if on cue, he could feel his stomach churn in rebellion.

It was all he could do to lean over the toilet again, shove his long black hair out of the way, and not make a mess.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

When his vision cleared and his consciousness drifted back into his aching body, Hua Cheng sat up. He rolled his neck, trying to work the stiffness out of it.

Judging by the slant of moonlight shifting through the window, only an hour or two had passed since he’d passed out, slumped against the wall. 

Hua Cheng swiped a hand across his mouth, staring with disgust at the bile that came away on his fingers. He stood slowly, trying his best not to stumble, and washed off in the sink again. 

Silently, he surveyed the bathroom. Despite his best efforts, he’d made a mess, one he’d rather die than leave for his husband to clean up.

Body still wracked with chills and tremors, Hua Cheng fished paper towels and a cleaning spray out from under the sink. He dropped heavily to his knees, ignoring the pain shooting through his stomach, and began to clean.

Tears began to prickle the corner of his eye and he closed his eyes. Self-hatred and confusion gripped him, and he clenched his fists. 

Why would he be having this reaction? Was he really losing his powers? He hated this immensely, hated that he wasn’t strong enough for Xie Lian. 

Hua Cheng disposed of the paper towels with shaking hands. He sat down again beside the toilet, hugging his knees, unable to stop the flow of tears down his face. 

Slow, unsteady breaths filled his lungs, and he clamped his mouth over his sobs. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with the warmth of his husband tucked in the curve of his body. 

But he still reeked and he would never, ever, ever want Xie Lian to see him like-

“San Lang?” 

Hua Cheng froze, trying not to breathe too loudly, raising his other hand to try to stifle himself. 

It’s not enough, though, and he let out a loud hic that echoes in the bathroom. Hua Cheng glared down at his hands, annoyed at the way his body seemed to be betraying him at every turn. 

“San Lang?” Xie Lian’s voice was closer now, and Hua Cheng tried to sit up straighter. He hated that he’d made him get out of bed. 

“Are you in the bathroom? Seriously, what are you doing in there?” Xie Lian’s voice is teasing and gentle until he flicks the light on. His mouth makes the shape of a soft o, unbound hair flowing freely around his shoulders. Lit by the silver light of the moon and the golden light of the bathroom, he looks beautiful, an untouchable god.

Hua Cheng was, by stark contrast, a complete mess. His hair was tangled and undone, falling in messy snarls around his shoulders. The front of his shirt was wrinkled and half-wet from his attempts to clean it off. His stomach still hurt and he could only imagine how pale his skin was. 

It was mortifying to be seen like this. He tried not to sniffle, reaching up to wipe the tears off his face. 

Xie Lian was quicker, dropping down with his usual grace to cup Hua Cheng’s face with his hands, running his thumbs over his cheeks tenderly. Hua Cheng’s best efforts couldn’t stop the low sob that escaped his lips. He lowered his eyes, embarrassed. 

“What’s wrong, San Lang?” Xie Lian moved closer, forcing Hua Cheng to meet the concern in his ethereal golden eyes. He refuses to speak, closing his lips together tightly. 

But his husband was perceptive, and the pain in his eye and the way one arm was still half-curled around his stomach protectively must’ve given it away. 

“Oh, no.”

Hua Cheng began to cry again, for real this time, and Xie Lian pulled him close. His fingers combed through Hua Cheng’s hair. 

“It’s alright. I’m here now. Oh, San Lang, why didn’t you wake me up? You don’t have to suffer alone.”

Hua Cheng’s instincts took over and, in a moment of physical and mental weakness, he finally reached up and pulled Xie Lian’s body close to his own. He tried not to care about how bad he probably smelled. 

Xie Lian lost his balance with a soft oof, falling forward onto Hua Cheng’s body. He buried his face in Xie Lian’s soft hair, inhaling deeply. The familiar scent of lavender shampoo filled his senses. 

“Will you tell me what happened?” Xie Lian asked Hua Cheng quietly, drawing back slightly to look at him. His voice was steady, and he didn’t pry when Hua Cheng shook his head and pointed to his mouth. 

“Okay. I’ll help you up, is that okay?”

Hua Cheng hated feeling powerless, hated the dizziness that overcame him and pushed him to lean heavily on his husband’s side as they shuffled towards the sink together. “Ge.. ge…” 

But Xie Lian was strong, and Hua Cheng knew that. “It’s alright, San Lang. Come, here’s your toothbrush. You got it? I can help you…”

Five thoroughly humiliating minutes passed by before they were on their bed, having successfully made it out of the stinking bathroom and into their shared room. 

Xie Lian helped Hua Cheng recline his head against their propped-up pillows before he ducked out of the room. He returned with tall glass full nearly to the brim with water. His dependable hands didn’t spill a single drop when they brought the cup to Hua Cheng’s lips, allowing him to drink slowly. 

When he was done, Xie Lian placed the cup on the bedside table before climbing into bed with Hua Cheng. He sat beside him, legs pressed against Hua Cheng’s side when he turned to face him. “Are you alright?”

Hua Cheng managed a nod, still too embarrassed to say much more. He found that he was even more reluctant to tell Xie Lian what happened now that he was out of the bathroom and with his husband.

“San Lang.” Xie Lian’s voice was reprimanding, yet kind. “Tell me what happened. Please?” 

The two locked eyes, golden eyes determined and shining, black eye a swirl of conflicting emotions.

Hua Cheng could never deny his husband of anything he’d asked, however, and he told him the whole story in strung together pieces, trying desperately not to meet his eyes.

Xie Lian’s hand drifted over to cover Hua Cheng’s and he listened attentively, nodding when it was appropriate. When Hua Cheng finished, Xie Lian sat silently, as if contemplating something.

“San Lang, why wouldn’t you wake me up or tell me?”

“It’s… gege, I never get sick from your food and I don’t ever want you to stop cooking for me just because… because of something like this…” he trailed off, then closed his eyes. “And I don’t even know what caused it. I’m always fine and I love that you cook for m-”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian said, his hand squeezing Hua Cheng’s reassuringly. “Have you ever considered that you might just be… allergic to what I made?” Allergies. Hua Cheng’s mouth opened, then closed. It made sense, and he hadn’t even considered it. “Oh.” 

Xie Lian smiled and moved closer, wrapping his arms gingerly around Hua Cheng’s torso and snuggling close. “My poor San Lang. Will you come wake me up if this ever happens?”

Hua Cheng laid his cheek against the top of Xie Lian’s head, nodding. 

“Thank you. Do you want to sleep now? You must be tired.”

“Actually, gege… I’m a bit hungry. Any leftovers?”

Xie Lian looked up to gape at Hua Cheng. He chuckled quietly, turning to pull Xie Lian into his arms. 

“Only joking, gege. Unless…”

His husband bumped the back of his head against the curve of Hua Cheng’s neck teasingly, and Hua Cheng laughed again, already feeling better.

[theseshipsshallsail]

Summary:

Thanks to an especially virulent strain of the winter flu, his headstrong boyfriend’s voice crackles and rasps; punctuated by the occasional rattling cough that shakes him to the bones. His skin is pasty. His lips are chapped. Every flash of animation, it seems, comes at a cost of energy he just doesn’t have, and eyeing the general detritus of Kleenex boxes and lozenge wrappers that litter the wooden coffee table, Oliver’s hard-pressed to remember if he’s actually seen him eat.

Elio’s been slouched on their tan three-seater since the first light of dawn: swaddled in an oversized sweatshirt and some plaid pyjama pants as he rifles through various files of staff paper and his ubiquitous notebook. I’d much rather fail at originality than succeed in imitation, he’d declared last Wednesday, lamenting each scathing critique from his pompous review panel, yet much as Oliver appreciates his righteous indignation, his protective instincts can’t help but bristle at the fact he sounds utterly miserable, to boot.

Thanks to an especially virulent strain of the winter flu, his headstrong boyfriend’s voice crackles and rasps; punctuated by the occasional rattling cough that shakes him to the bones. His skin is pasty. His lips are chapped. Every flash of animation, it seems, comes at a cost of energy he just doesn’t have, and eyeing the general detritus of Kleenex boxes and lozenge wrappers that litter the wooden coffee table, Oliver’s hard-pressed to remember if he’s actually seen him eat. 

There’s been plenty of herbal tea to soothe his scratchy throat. Nasal spray. VapoRub. A regular dose of Tylenol from the Walgreens two blocks over. But nothing that falls under the category of food. An untouched plate of toast on the nearby bookcase bears out his suspicions, so Oliver raids the kitchen cupboards for a can of chicken soup, then heats the contents on their gas-powered stove; wincing in sympathy when Elio convulses with a gut-punch sneeze, swearing and hacking in alternate breaths.

Several minutes of snotty sniffing later, Oliver turns off the burner then pours the simple meal into an old Columbia Lions mug: the one Elio’d claimed for his own upon his initial move to the States. The other man’s squinting at a dog-eared composition sheet when he eventually returns to the couch, and Oliver figures his blocked sinus is the culprit as he pinches the bridge of his cherry-red nose; probably trying to banish the cobwebs.

“Scoot up, Patient Zero,” he says, sitting down carefully beside him, and when Elio blinks sluggishly his mercurial eyes are nothing but dull slits of colour beneath his heavy lashes; the light of their freestanding lamp shade apparently too much to bear. “Tell me again how you never get sick?” 

Elio summons a gimlet glare. “I'm not sick; I’m dying,” he groans - the edge of a wheeze rattling the vowels - but he accepts the mug all the same, and Oliver hums indulgently as he sweeps an unholy assortment of balled-up tissues into a neat little pile. 

“Your stubbornness is commendable,” he says, pleased to see Elio make short shrift of the steaming liquid, if not the noodles themselves. “But do yourself a favour and get some rest, yeah?"

“Un mal nécessaire.” A yawn: barely stifled. “I have to finish these -” 

“Not today you don't.” Oliver rescues the mug from his slightly-drooping hand. “Even us creatures of habit deserve a night off.” 

Elio smirks; slow and playful. “Is that so?” he says, nodding at the Sophomore Ontology coursework partially obscuring the living room rug.

Which, yes. Fair enough. But -

“I’m still new to the syllabus,” Oliver replies, nudging him gently with his knee. “Professor Johnson’s lesson plans were shoddy at best. You, however, have a fever of thirty-eight.” As the flush on his sunken cheeks can attest. “So don’t pretend you’re not ready to pass out from exhaustion.”

A grunt is the only acknowledgement he receives, and Oliver’s all set to try a different tack when Elio slumps sideways like a stringless marionette. It’s completely proprietary - the way he claims his unsuspecting lap as an ad hoc pillow - but Oliver’s quick to adopt his role as a piece of human furniture, uncaring of the knobbly shoulder blade digging exorbitantly into his thigh.

Little victories, he decides, and reining in a grin, smooths the messy curls from his maestro’s clammy forehead. 

“Do you need anything else?” he asks instead, the slim column of Elio’s neck spasming amidst his muttered grumblings. “A blanket? Some water? There’s a fresh bottle of vitamins in the bathroom cabinet…”

“Just your support in these harrowing times,” Elio murmurs, the arm around his middle snugging tighter, so Oliver follows his own advice as he drags a knitted Afghan over the curve of Elio's body - fishes a dog-eared copy of The King Must Die from between the sunken cushions - then crosses his legs at the ankles as he settles in for the duration. 

[phenikas]

TFTBL Text Files Tutorial

Was asked by @gay-ratcore on how to get into the tales text files so I decided to make a more "thorough" tutorial for anyone else curious.

I say thorough cause tbh this pretty much just scratches the surface of file extraction, there's so much more to it, but extracting text files /is the easiest thing out of the entire thing.

FULL TUTORIAL UNDER CUT

First things first, you need to have the game installed for this to work. Or at least have it somewhere on your computer/hard drive for the software to view the files inside.

Secondly, download the necessary software for exploring said files, it's called "Telltale Explorer" made by the awesome bgbennyboy - download here. It's a helpful tool that will allow you to view not only the text files of the game but some other neat things as well. As soon as you download the software from the website, extract it, then double click on TelltaleExplorer.exe to run it.

You might get a pop-up from your antivirus saying this software might be malicious or something like that. Pretty sure it does that for all files with the .exe format, this one's ok, so you can ignore said warning.

This is what you'll see when you successfully open the explorer. Click on the "Open" tab in the upper left corner and pick the game and episode you want to look through (I've found that most of the time it doesn't matter what you pick, this just a matter simplicity).

Next, a new browser window will open. You'll need to look for the installed game on your PC. For me, the location was in "C:\Program Files (x86)\Steam\steamapps\common\Tales from the Borderlands" and you need to specifically look into the "Archives" folder, where you'll find all of the necessary game files.

As seen in the picture above, each episode is numbered (e.g. episode 1 is 101, episode 2 is 102, etc.) and divided into 5 categories:

ANICHORE - "animations" and "chores" - not viewable in the explorer

DATA - quite literally what it says, it's a mixture of files, here's where you'll find the text files of the unused content

MS - sound effects, mostly environmental, footsteps, gunshots, etc. - playable in the explorer

TXMESH - models and textures - models not viewable, textures only viewable if you have the original version of the game (the one released by Telltale prior to 2019, not the current one published by 2K)

VOICE - audio voicelines - playable in the explorer, however they are not in order

To view the text files, as mentioned before, you need to choose the appropriate episode and the file ending with _data.ttarch2. Unfortunately, at least for me, opening the data file for the first episode causes the explorer to crash (if you are using the current version of the game, if you have the original one, it works perfectly fine). So for the sake of this tutorial, we will open the data file for episode 2.

Next, you'll want to click on the "View" Tab in the upper left corner and choose the ".landb" option. This will show you only text files. And that's pretty much it, you can look at all the text files and read them on the right side of the screen, you can even copy them into your own text block if you want.

If you have any questions regarding other things I've mentioned here or something else regarding the extraction of files or even viewing the textures, feel free to let me know :)

[catiecat1320]

Chapter 7 of 11! (Seven Eleven heheh) [MasterPost]

Read Below🔽

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Shadow’s ears twitched at the sound, well before he even realized he heard it. Groaning, he lifted his head in response, brain still foggy from sleep. “Eh?”

He was on the couch, he realized, rubbing his sore neck as coherent thoughts trickled back in. He must’ve fallen asleep while reading again.

Tap. Tap. 

“Coming, coming!” He shouts to no one in particular. Standing up, the book that sat forgotten in his lap thudded on the floor, splaying spine-up messily, eliciting a wince from the owner. With much more care, Shadow picked it up, straightened the pages and lined it up with the other of its series on the coffee table. 

The relentless tapping continued, and it was only then that he realized it didn’t sound like the wood of his door. 

His head snapped to the window much too late, only to see the emerald eyes of someone he would’ve never expected peering back at him. “Sonic?” 

The door was open before he registered he’d moved, the awaiting star outside giggling at his mindless haste. “Heya, Shads! Had a nice nap?”

“What? You… How are you here? D-did I ever give you my address?” Shadow stuttered, ignoring Sonic’s question. “You know what, I’m not going to ask. You’re here. What for?”

The idol only grinned cheekily, patting Shadow’s shoulder as he slipped past and into the house, never dropping the gaze he had locked on to the host. It was as if he was waiting, but for what Shadow didn’t know. He felt a little dumb, standing there with no idea why someone was in his house. Was he supposed to do something?

He… doesn’t remember how to act with guests over.

“Well? You gonna close the door?” Sonic said, raising his eyebrows expectantly. Right. The pianist reached behind him and fumbled with the doorknob, completely off put by how nonchalant his visitor was. It was as if Shadow was the one that randomly showed up in the middle of the night to a house that he shouldn’t have known the address to in the first place.

“So. This is your favorite place, huh?” Sonic threw himself onto the couch, head swiveling like an owl’s as he drank in the sights of the little house. “Pretty neat,” he muttered, sinking into the cushions, “Cozy, too.”

The more he talked, the more Shadow just… stopped working. “W…why did you come to my house again? Just to see it for yourself?”

“Ha!” Sonic sat up, smirking. “Tails was driving me up the wall— which, mind you, are pretty small in a RV— so I decided to stretch my legs and take a run ‘round the ‘hood.” He looks smug, holding his fingers up to his face like one of those girls looking at their nails, despite wearing gloves. Why did he wear gloves all the time? Shadow quietly stowed the question away for the next Q&A. “I also left my watch, so he’s probably worrying his guts out right now.”

“That…” seems a little too far. But it wasn’t his place to judge Sonic’s actions, and it’s not like he knew the context of the situation, so, “...doesn’t answer my question. Why my house?”

“Oh. Uh… would you believe me if I said I just happened to see you through the window?”

The look on Shadow’s face probably told him more than enough. “Um. Well, I was thinking of you. And I was thinking about my favorite place in the whole wide world,” the idol admitted sheepishly, scratching at his cheek. “I thought that maybe I should show you.”

“It’s nearing midnight. You could’ve come tomorrow.” Shadow pointed out. But he was curious now, his words holding no edge to them. What was so special that it would warrant this sudden visit?

“But now is the best time to see it!” Sonic argued. “Come on, you’ll understand when we’re there!”

“Alright, alright,” Shadow grumbled. “Give me a moment to get ready.”

“Okay! Make sure to wear comfortable clothes. It’ll be quite a hike to get there.”

………………………………

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?” Shadow muttered, trying to hide his unease. He didn’t usually go out this late after dark. Trailing after Sonic was easy enough, he supposed, but he’d really appreciate it if he could get a sense of direction. He would’ve appreciated it even more if they’d just taken his bike, but that was beside the point.

He doesn’t recognize this part of town. Whether it was the night messing with his senses or just a new route, he didn’t like it. The ominous lighting of the shielded streetlights didn’t help, especially not when the one down the corner was flickering like mad. Sonic didn’t seem to mind at all though.

“We’ll be there soon,” he assured. “It’s in the one and only Emerald Park. I loved running through that place when I was littler, but there’s a special spot that I call my favorite.”

“Emerald Park?” Shadow recognized the name. He’d been there when he was a child, too. But those memories had been left behind, fading with age. The most he could remember was Maria’s awestruck face as she exclaimed something he couldn’t recall, the green canopies above throwing cooling shade over her golden hair.

“Yeah.” Sonic stopped, and in the dark Shadow made out a plaque declaring their location. He was starting to have second thoughts… more like third thoughts at this point. Should they really be here at this time of night? 

A sudden warmth enveloped his wrist, and Shadow swore his heart nearly tore out of his chest. It was only when he yanked back and Sonic toppled into him with a yip that he realized it was just the other hedgehog’s hand.

“Oh! Oh, Chaos, I’m sorry,” he stammered, the cool nighttime air doing nothing to hamper the sheer embarrassment that lit his face, not helped by the fact that Sonic was now in his arms. The dancer only laughed, however, straightening and wrapping his fingers around Shadow’s wrist again. 

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll admit that this place is pretty spooky in the dark. Man, I missed it so much.” 

“Should we really be here?” Shadow breathed aloud, just to be sure, to which Sonic huffed. No verbal answer was given, and the musician found himself being led through the open gate onto worn trails. Whether that was a yes or no, he didn’t know.

He was blind now, metaphorically and nearly physically. The shadowed trees that towered over them blocked out the moon, and there were no artificial lights to speak of. Almost like a scene in a horror movie… yet despite that, the usually unnerving sights didn’t get much further than slightly raising his heart rate, adrenaline doing a fine job in activating his senses. 

He was putting so much trust into Sonic, he realized. There was every chance that the idol could do something or lead him somewhere dangerous, intentionally or unintentionally, and he would be powerless to stop it. Not out here, as much of a wilderness as he’d ever been. Yet somehow, Shadow had complete faith that nothing would go wrong.

Somewhere, sometime, Sonic had started idle chatter. Of course he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. It was quite endearing, the way he could go on about nothing of importance with so much excitement. “...You’re gonna love this place, I’m telling you; I’ve been all over the world, probably seen everything at this point, but nothing beats this place,” he gushed, “not even those really cool landmarks everyone’s heard of! Those are honestly overrated. Or, or— I’m getting off track, hah. We’re nearly there. Anyway, I don’t think I’ve shown anyone besides Tails, so you’re lucky, Shads.” He paused along with his sentence, with Shadow stopping just a little too late, bumping into the hedgehog in front of him. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, silently cursing his clumsiness.

“No need to be!” Sonic assured immediately, pressing closer. Too much closer. Almost touching faces closer. “Stay close, okay? We’re gonna go off the trail. Step where I step so you don’t trip.” He shifted his hand down, intertwining fingers with Shadow.

“Wait, wait, what?” The pianist stumbled, but Sonic had already set off, headed in between inconspicuous trees and taking Shadow with him. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered back. “I know this place like the back of my hand. We won’t get lost.”

“I… okay.” And immediately, Shadow’s foot caught a stray root, sending him tumbling into the idol. The two landed on top of each other, both surprised and one embarrassed. 

“Sorry, sorry! Gosh, I’m such an idiot.”

Sonic laughed, untangling himself. “It’s okay. It’s easy to slip up here. I’ve done it even after years.” They helped each other up, did a quick once-over for complications, and started again.

The dancer took more care to lead this time… which involved holding both of Shadow’s hands. His cheeks were probably glowing with how much heat circulated there— he felt like a baby learning to walk, stumbling over his own two feet while Sonic stepped backwards, all confidence and grace, only occasionally sparing a few glances into the darkness behind him.

“We’re almost there…” the guide murmured after what felt like forever. Something flicked into Shadow’s face, making him cringe. He was sure he’d gotten several scratches from all the branches clawing at them. This better be worth it. 

“Prepare yourself…”

They entered a clearing, and Shadow couldn’t help the shrill squeak that came out of his mouth at the sight. It was as if all the breath had been sucked out of him, held captive by what lay before him.

It… it was heaven itself.

High above, stars like he’d never seen swirled around the full moon, bathing all in holy silver. The drop of a steep cliff gave way to a sprawling landscape which he recognized as the quiet nighttime Green Hill, dotted with the occasional light but otherwise inky black. If he looked closely, he could see the sky reflected in the lake, as if a portal had opened on its glassy surface, beckoning the curious to slip into a dream. 

Nearer to himself, grass tamed only by Mother Nature swayed in the gentle breeze, tickling his pant legs. Overhead, trees shifted and rustled, reminding him of their ever-reaching presence. Fireflies darted here and there, flashing their own lights to compete with the twinkling stars. 

Oh, it was a feast for the eyes, a secret paradise, a whole living fairytale, and right beside him, the blue hedgehog that opened the door to all of this, wearing a knowing grin as he let Shadow soak it all in.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

Shadow couldn’t agree more.

A gentle tug redirected his attention to the one holding his hand, guiding him further. The two settled in the grass blanketing the ridge, letting the moon shine peace onto them. 

“When… when did you find this place? How?” Shadow couldn’t help but ask once he finally found his voice. It was magical, really. Exactly the kind of place you would expect Sonic would call his favorite.

The dancer looks wistful for a second. “When I was barely a teenager, reckless and really, really eager for freedom. I don’t sleep easy, and that combined with an adventurous streak led to me stumbling across this place. It just… called out to me, I guess.”

Shadow watched as he fell backward, coming to a rest on his elbows. Pale in the starlight, Sonic’s face tilted to the swirling sky, his smile like a crescent moon. “This is where I feel most inspired. There’s… there’s a magic to this place, I’m telling you, and I was thinking you might feel it too.”

It certainly looked like Wonderland, but he got the feeling that Sonic meant “magic” literally. In which case, he wanted to shout that the idea was ridiculous. Magic wasn’t real. 

…But at the same time, a part of Shadow was compelled to agree, or at least try to understand the thought.

“You don’t get it, do you?” 

The pianist winced at the comment. But when he started to say something, he realized that Sonic wasn’t looking at him, or anything at all. Blue eyelids lay shut, a neutral expression pasted on his face as he breathed deeply, focused and detached at once. The words Shadow meant to say died in his throat. 

A moment later, a soft smile graced the idol’s lips and he whispered something too quiet for the other to hear. Sonic stood up and brushed himself off, stretching, leaving Shadow completely and utterly lost, still. 

He felt like he was interrupting something, something he couldn’t yet understand. But then glittering emeralds snapped over to him, partnered with a cheeky yet confident grin. Sonic offered a hand and he took it, letting himself be pulled to his feet. His expression was more than likely the opposite of the idol’s, layered with confusion and curiosity, a desperate plea to know what the hell was going on.

Shadow’s silent inquiry was met not with an answer, but a demand.

“Let’s dance.”

[topaz-witch-tea]

OMG HIIIII

FIRST OF ALL I LOVE UR WORKS SM I THINK IM LOSING MY MIND FROM THE CUTENESS

SECOND OF ALL I GOT A BRAINROT TO SHARE WITH YOU!

Ahem- So yk how Yingxing was told to be like, very workaholic and so consumed with his work to the point he forgets to eat, drink or sleep?

I headcanon that sometimes he goes back into this old habit for a week or two just working to the point that Yanqing has to alert Dan Feng and Jing Yuan to drag the guy outside of his workshop LMAO

They force him to take care of himself or Yanqing will cry (HES SO CUTE I CANT-)

Aww thank you so much!!! I really enjoy getting asks and having people interested in it!!!

This is absolutely adorable.

***I hope I did your brainrot justice. The draft has been in progress for a while and I am now finishing it at 1:30 AM

Yingxing has his own private forge in the manor so he can work on his own things and also so he wouldn't have to stay in the Artisanship Commission all day to work on things. The problem is that now his commute from his home to a forge has been cute, he can spend more time on personal projects.

He becomes a ghost, just meandering the halls for food and water before returning back to his work. He is gone for so long that Yanqing misses him. He's also a bit scared since his father looks like he died inside.

Yanqing would absolutely go running to the other two about it. He's too young to understand what's actually happening to his dad but something is wrong and he doesn't like it. Dan Feng is displeased due to his inability to take care of his health but also the distress it is causing Yanqing. Jing Yuan is more concerned as to the lack of care Yingxing is participating in. While Yanqing just wants his Baba to get better and play with him again.

********

Yanqing waited patiently at the door for what has been 30 minutes now. In his hands was his white lion plushie sporting a very noticeable tear on its ear, a result from a play fight with Mimi. On the other side of the door was his father's private forge- a place for the Furnace Master to pursue his private projects. Yanqing was never allowed in without permission lest his father accidentally pour molten near him or accidentally harm him with tools of the trade.

He had knocked quietly to request his father's aid and was told to stand outside quietly for a bit as his father cleaned up the forge. Yingxing had looked tired and a bit frazzled. His usually neat hair was knotted and messy and he had bags under his eyes. So engrossed in a project after getting his hands on some rare materials, he had forgone daily care and even the pleasures of life. He ate when his stomach growled louder than the sound of his hammer and he drank when he would develop pounding headaches and his vision would get blurry. He would sleep on his chair so that he may continue his work when the sun rose.

Yanqing was quite distraught upon laying eyes on his father. He hadn't seen him in a week and a half and did not dare to call for him, not wanting to disturb his important work. So there he stood until 10 became 20 which became 30. His feet started to hurt and he couldn't help but feel upset. Did he forget about Yanqing?

Yanqing wanted to go and knock again, but he was always warned about disturbing his father in the forge. So he settled for the next best option. Running down the courtyard, he made his way to the archives where his other 2 fathers engrossed themselves in a book that was gifted to them.

Walking up to Jing Yuan, Yanqing tugged on his clothing in an attempt to get his attention.

"Yanqing? What are you doing here?" Jing Yuan picked the child up and put him on his lap.

"Baba is really busy. I asked him to fix my toy and he made me wait outside for a long time."

"Oh, did he now? Doesn't he know its wrong to make Yanqing wait at all?" Jing Yuan teased before tickling his son, causing the boy to squirm.

"But I haven't seen Baba in forever and when I saw him, he looked really scary?" Yanqing exclaimed.

"Scary?" Dan Feng inquired

"Mhm, he looked like a zombie! Like those monsters in that movie you watched!"

"I see. Do you miss Baba?" JIng Yuan asked.

"Yes! Baba hasn't played with me in a long time." Yanqing said leaning into his father's hold as he observed the High Elder exchange a look with the General.

Dan Feng reached patted Yanqing on the head. "Why don't you go to the kitchen for a snack? A-die and I will get you Baba to play with you, okay?"

"Really?" Yanqing beamed.

"Really, now run along." Yanqing hopped off his father's lap and raced to the kitchen.

Yingxing was fast asleep when a heavy weight landed on his chest. He quickly shot up to see Dan Feng peering over him, his eyes cloudy with annoyance and a bit of anger. Jing Yuan stood next to him, an amused smile present on his face as always.

"What was that for?" Yingxing exclaimed.

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you. You know exactly what it was for!" The tail swished back and forth, threatening an even harder hit if he asked another stupid question. Though it seemed that sleep and lack of care was making Yinxing's brain run extra slow today.

"You're doing it again." Jing Yuan jumped in, saving him from another whack. "No eating, drinking, and barely any sleeping. Yanqing hasn't seen you in over a week."

Yingxing's slowly connected the dots.

Yanqing...Yanqing...

"Oh! Is he still waiting outside? How long has it been?" Yinxing pulling out his phone to check the time.

"No, we told him to go to the kitchen for snacks. You should join him for some, and maybe for a nap as well. He misses you."

Yingxing rubbed his eyes and slowly collected himself, exhaustion still very present. "Yeah, I'll definitely need a nap after."

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK!!!

I hope you like it and feel free to send more and send any questions you have regarding the AU.

[kaihuntrr]

part sixteen: brother.

Grian goes through the motions of a totally fine, totally normal day.

(early upload bc ill be busy tomorrow! <3)

Faint hints of sunlight peeked through thin curtains, shining a soft light in the bedroom as Grian slowly roused. Birds called out in the distance, singing to the rising sun as the wind ruffled against foliage. Grian tossed and turned, feeling for the cool spots of his bed to linger on. Sometimes he wanted to wake up early, sometimes he didn’t. Today was one of the latter.

He tried to lull himself back to sleep even as he heard the door creak open. Not now, Grian groaned quietly, I’m still sleepy.

Grian buried himself deeper in his pillow, gripping it tight as he snuggled himself up and laid on his side. He heard a set of footsteps come to a stop by the side of his bed. “Grian,” his brother spoke, his tone both amused and annoyed, “Come on. Get up.” When Grian didn’t stir, he sighed. “I know you’re awake.”

“And what if I want to sleep a little longer, Tim?” Grian opened one of his eyes and looked up at Jimmy with a small smirk. Jimmy was still in his sleepwear, a loose shirt and pants, but his hair was neatly brushed back and he didn’t look tired at all. “Besides, you didn’t even knock before you got in my room. It’s a little rude, isn’t it?”

Jimmy’s face flushed red in embarrassment. “Well I didn’t know if you were awake or not,” he put his hands on his hips and looked away. Grian chuckled. “But since you’re having this conversation with me, you’re clearly up. So get up!”

“Aaand I’m ending this conversation so I can go back to sleep,” Grian turned to face the other side of the bed, turning his back towards his brother as his smirk grew. “Goodnight, Tim.”

Jimmy made several confused sputtering sounds. “Grian-!” Grian continued to chuckle to himself, proud of his little victory for the morning while Jimmy huffed and puffed. It would never be tiring to make him so annoyed, but he had to do it in moderation; it was never going to be as funny if Jimmy started to always expect it. 

Grian let out a dramatic sigh and sat up. He stretched his arms and yawned, “Alright, fine, I’m awake,” he twisted his body around then turned to Jimmy, a soft expression on his face as he looked at his brother. “Happy?” 

“Very much,” Jimmy rolled his eyes and shook his head, cracking a small smile. Jimmy was quick to be annoyed at Grian and Joel’s antics, but he always seemed to know when it was a joke or not. It kept him on his toes and toughened him up, at least. “Joel’s waiting for us downstairs, come on.” he beckoned Grian over, a warm look on his face as Grian got out of bed to stretch. Jimmy walked out of the room first, Grian following before shutting the door behind him.

His family- the Solidarity family, not whatever last name he’d had before- were living decently. Grian and his brothers were able to get the family home all to themselves for a bit while their parents were away, giving them time to lounge around and invite people over, if they felt like it. They passed little picture frames and unlit lanterns as Grian idly traced his hand over the railing, overlooking the first floor.

As they walked down from the second floor to the first, Jimmy scratched the side of his neck as a small yawn escaped him- the side with the tattoo on it. Grian hadn’t expected Jimmy to ever get a tattoo, since the blonde usually liked to keep things simple and neat, and even if he had predicted or known about it beforehand…, Grian wouldn’t have expected it to be of a flower either. 

“I never pictured you getting a tattoo, Tim,” Grian tilted his head. Jimmy turned his head to give his brother a confused look as they walked to the dining room. Grian crossed his arms, a faint hint of mischievousness in his eyes, “Who convinced you? And why have you been so secretive about it?”

Grian and Joel had asked Jimmy about that tattoo for such a long time. Jimmy was never keen on telling him or Joel anything, and Grian was sure Jimmy still wouldn’t tell him.

But why?

Jimmy blinked. His eyes looked everywhere but towards Grian. “I- uh…,” he sputtered, cutting himself off. Grian noticed Jimmy’s cheeks were faintly red and chuckled to himself. Jimmy put a hand over the tattoo, as if trying to hide it. “I just thought it looked nice, no one convinced me of anything. Flowers are really pretty.”

Enough for you to get one tattooed on your skin? Grian smirked. He swore Jimmy’s faint blush got redder as the two stared at each other. Got you.

“You’re not exactly the type to lie, and you’re not very good at it. You can tell me,” Grian gave Jimmy’s arm a slight push as he moved to stand beside him. Jimmy crossed his arms as Grian leaned closer to him. “I’m your brother.”

Brothers. We’re brothers. 

“I know that,” Jimmy let out a weak chuckle, softly elbowing Grian’s side. “So why would I lie?” Jimmy put a hand on Grian’s shoulder as the two shared a silent stare, then he walked forward to the dining room, where Joel had been fiddling around with the utensils. “He’s up!”

Why would you lie? 

Joel leaned against the table, putting the wooden spoon next to his bowl. He exchanged sweet glances from his brothers before he stood up from the table and held his empty bowl up. “Looks like Mr. Sleeping Beauty is awake,” he grinned. Jimmy walked over to the table to grab his bowl and disappeared into the kitchen, the smell wafting into the room. Beef stew. It smelled delicious. “Get your butts over here already, I’m starving!”

Grian shook his head and walked over to Joel, taking his own bowl. They’d already set the table, how thoughtful of them. “If you were that hungry, you would have woken me up sooner,” he raised an eyebrow and stared at Joel. Grian’s stomach began to rumble, and after he took a quick glance, saw Joel flash a small smirk, too. “But fine, let’s eat.”

Grian entered the kitchen, smelling the delicious food, and looked to see Jimmy getting himself some stew already. Jimmy probably woke up before either of them had, if Grian were to guess. 

His brother smiled at him, a sweet, bright smile, and his heart swelled. Grian felt as if an icy bullet had shot through his chest and stopped his heart from beating. His knees gave out under him, falling on the stone floor of the kitchen, catching himself from planting his face to the cold ground. 

Jimmy gasped, his body frozen as he registered the sudden fall. He placed his food on a small table nearby and rushed to kneel down, trying to get Grian to look at him. Grian was unresponsive as he stared at the floor with wide eyes. “Grian?” Jimmy called out, his voice soft. “Grian, what’s wrong?” 

Nothing. He couldn’t move, or even speak.

Grian’s breathing quickened.

What was happening? Why did he feel like this?

“Uh, Jim?” Joel called out behind Grian, “What’s up with…?” His voice sounded muffled, and soon the world began to blur into a mess of colors, shifting and turning around him. 

The world was dark. Then it was bright. Then it was a calm morning spent with his brothers. Then there was a storm. Then… Then…

Flashes. Voices. People. Places. His brothers. His family. Joel. Jimmy–

Jimmy.

Jimmy’s voice called out to him in the ever shifting visuals, calling his name over and over again. Shouts. Whispers. Annoyance. Joy. All of it. All of it.

“Grian?”

Grian looked around, looked everywhere– the voice bounced and echoed, the source could be anywhere. He could see nothing but darkness. It kept ringing in his ears. He buried his face in his hands. Darkness closed in around him but it felt like he was drowning. He was sinking. He was falling. 

“Grian?”

Water flooded his ears but the voices were loud and clear. The abyss under him lit up in faint purple hues. A strange yet familiar symbol glowed in the dark, its light beckoning him. 

The symbol of the Watchers.

“Grian?”

Crashes of lightning and rolls of thunder roared above him, the oceanic darkness thrashing him from left to right as the ominous symbol grew bright.

“Grian?”

Everything went dark as water filled his lungs.

—————

“Grian?”

Grian shot up in his bed, hacking up the water in his lungs.

Yet, no water came out. He wasn’t in the dark anymore, either. 

Grian took steady breaths, his eyes wide as he stared blankly at the room around him. The wooden walls, the bookshelves, the desk at the back of the room, picture frames and all sorts of knicknacks stored away in the side cabinets. He could hear the muffled sounds of seawater lap against the sides of the ship. He wasn’t at home. He was far, far away from it right now.

Grian didn’t register the person standing near him until he locked eyes with him.

Joel.

Grian smiled awkwardly, internally cringing to himself. “Good morning, Joel,” he forced a weak chuckle. Joel narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, a look of concern spread across his face. Grian scratched the back of his neck and his eyes flitted to the ground. “Did you… see all that?”

“Tough morning sounds more fitting, and yeah, I did,” Joel gave a smile that looked more like a grimace and held back a sigh. Martyn felt like he was pulling back from everyone and Grian had been… in this state for a while, even Lizzie had been having some dark moments of her own recently too. Perhaps coming to this island made everyone launch into a downward spiral- or maybe it was the stress getting to them. 

He wouldn’t want to badmouth the king, but he might have a few choice words in reserve to say if it came to that. 

“Lizzie’s up, too. We got some breakfast and coffee in the lower decks. It’ll give us some privacy from this bloody island. We’ll meet you there.” Joel tilted his head to the door and walked over, shutting it behind him.

Grian spent several moments staring blankly at the wall of the captains’ quarters, blinking often as his thoughts sloshed around in his head. He could think of all this baggage later. He just needed to sort out the odd divide between them and the Kites, get them supplies and a ship, and then leave. It didn’t look like there would be any ships to be bought, but Grian was hopeful. 

With a small groan he slipped out of bed, as much as he could call the cubby nestled in the walls a ‘bed’. He stretched his arms up in the air as he forced a yawn out. He twisted his body left and right, then twisted the doorknob open.

It was gloomy outside. Crescent Bay seemed to be covered with constant gray clouds all the time. The cold ocean breeze passed by, making a small chill run up Grian’s spine as he stared outwards. The front of the ship faced the misty island. The oddly dark and empty town before him could be straight out of one of the ghost stories he’s read as a child. It’d be so easy to believe a ghost was haunting the place, but a sea prince and a witch? That felt too unreal.

Grian made his way to the lower deck, some of the floorboards creaking under his feet. They had been able to fix some of the broken parts of the ship, but the engine was broken. He wasn’t sure why it was- it shouldn’t break down after just a few fights. Had he done a maintenance check on it recently? Maybe he’d forgotten to do it this time. But if the engine was broken, the sails could still be used. 

Grian shook his head. For now, it was best to check in with the others after they ate. From there they could gather supplies, fix the engine, then leave. 

Lizzie and Joel were sitting on wooden benches opposite of each other with a neat wooden table in the middle. Organized crates and barrels lay stacked against the wall with some bundles of thick rope coiled together near the end of the room. The smell of coffee wafted through the room. The room was lit by some lanterns that were hanging from the ceiling along with a small metal grate in the ceiling over the table. Thin strips of light filtered through the metallic grate, spotlighting a neatly made sandwich and a fresh cup of coffee.  

Lizzie and Joel were having a pleasant conversation about finding some matching jewelry before Lizzie turned her head towards the sound of creaking floorboards, seeing Grian descending the stairs.

“Good morning, Grian,” Lizzie smiled. Grian sat beside Joel as Lizzie pushed the plate and mug of coffee towards him. “Made this for you.”

Grian nodded gratefully. “Thanks,” he blew a bit of the steam off the hot coffee and sipped it, feeling it begin to warm his body. “Have the others dropped by yet?”

Lizzie shook her head. “No, they might still be asleep,” she looked up at the metal grate above them and squinted her eyes at the clouds visible through the metal slats. The constant threat of rain was getting to her- why couldn’t this island be normal? “I’m not entirely sure what time it is, but it feels like morning.”

“Well, let’s hope they don’t get used to it,” Joel had some warm coffee too, though already a good bit cooler than Grian’s. He took a small sip and let out a relieved sigh. “The cold is nice and all, a good excuse for warm soup and drinks, but we shouldn’t stay here any longer than we need to.”

“Agreed, this place gives me the creeps. But anyway,” Lizzie waved her hand. Grian and Joel leaned in closer, interested. “I got to talk to those Kites yesterday.”

“Oh?” Grian took a big gulp from his coffee, the back of his throat stung in its bitter taste and heat. “What’d they say?”

“Nothing much, but they’re in pretty high spirits, at least,” Lizzie shrugged. Some feisty and energetic crew might not be tolerable for everyone, but at least there was some personality on their little detour. Plus, if ever something bad did happen to anyone, both crews could do something about it. “I’m sure we can get them to work with us so we all can leave. We should go check on them soon, right?”

Grian took a bite of his sandwich, the crisp of the lettuce cracking as he ate it. “We will, just give me some time to finish my breakfast.” With that, he continued to eat his food in relative silence. A nice, relaxing morning on a strange island, it shouldn’t be too bizarre with all the monsters they killed on average. Most of his mornings were nice and calm, so the adrenaline rush could be saved for–

“JOEL! GRIAN! LIZZIE! WE GOT TROUBLE!”

All three of them heard Bdubs’ muffled shouts. Stunned and shocked, they quickly exited the lower decks, ascending to the upper floor. Grian’s breakfast could wait- the stress in Bdubs’ voice was a cause for concern.

Grian leaned against the railing of the ship, looking down at Cleo and Bdubs on the pier, both of them panting as they caught their breaths. Cleo had their hands on their knees while Bdubs put a hand on his beating chest. The inn was a bit far from the ship- did they run all the way here? Grian looked around the docks, searching for Scar. Why wasn’t he there with them? He paused. Martyn wasn’t there either.

“Hey guys–,” Joel gave them a wary smile, “What’s going on?”

Cleo took in a deep breath and stood properly. “It’s Martyn, he’s–” 

“He’s gone!” Bdubs cut Cleo off, his voice loud and clear. 

Grian, Joel, and Lizzie looked at each other, their eyes wide in confusion and shock.

“What?!” Grian slammed his hands against the railing. Was Scar gone too? If Martyn got himself into trouble, Scar usually wasn’t long to follow. And what about the others? “What happened?!”

“I don’t know,” Cleo shook their head and crossed their arms. “I went to check on him and he was just gone. Some of his stuff is still in the room, Scar’s standing watch so no one goes in.”

Grian internally sighed. Martyn being missing was an issue, but thank goodness it was just one of them. Who knew what could happen if another person was missing? He didn’t even know what happened yet.

Grian snapped out of his thoughts when a loud thump of wood hit the railing. Joel had placed the gangplank down. He quickly hopped on. “We have to go,” he held out his hand as Lizzie took it and got on the plank to walk down. Joel looked at him, “Come on!”

Grian nodded, following the other two as they descended the ship. If everything had gone well, they very much could have left today. Grian shook his head. That didn’t matter now, they needed to find Martyn. Grian approached Cleo and Bdubs, looking in a better state than when they arrived. “Did anyone notice when he might have left?” “He must have left some time in the night,” Cleo muttered to themself, focused on their thoughts. They looked at Grian, concern written all over their face. “No one saw him since lights out.”

“What if he got kidnapped by a ghost?!” Bdubs’ voice was mixed with excitement and fear. Grain thought that maybe he shouldn’t feel excited if a friend of his was missing. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about ghosts when something very real was happening.

Cleo glanced at Bdubs and shook their head disapprovingly. “Bdubs, ghosts aren’t real,” they held back a sigh. They opened their satchel and handed Grian a familiar notebook with a leather cover, tied closed with a leather strap. “The one thing I found strange was that his sketchbook was there. He brings it almost everywhere.” 

Grian remembered all the times Martyn had told everyone not to look inside, but it was always curious to see him scribbling away, only to quickly shut it. Cleo put one of their hands on their hip, the other pointing at the sketchbook. “It might be best if the three of you look at it, or just one of you, I don’t want to intrude on his privacy, but maybe there’s something in there that can give us a clue. Bdubs, Scar, and I are going to check his room again for anything that might be useful.”

“Thank you, Cleo,” Lizzie dipped her head in a nod, still holding Joel’s hand. Cleo nodded in acknowledgement as she smiled. “We’ll look through it,” Lizzie continued, “We can assist you with checking the room out after.”

Cleo tilted their head, motioning to the streets. “Come on, ‘dubs. Let’s regroup with Scar, maybe he found something while we were out.” Bdubs nodded, turning around and waited for Cleo to lead the way back. 

“We’re coming with you,” Joel looked between Lizzie and Grian as they silently nodded. It was best to cover all their bases. If there was nothing of note in the room, then there could be something within the sketchbook’s pages. It’d be a last resort to intrude on Martyn’s privacy. “Let’s go.”

The group passed through the empty streets, silent and wary as they followed Cleo and Bdubs back to the inn. The ambient sounds of waves slowly faded out as the haunting howls of wind called to the hunters in an almost mocking tone, goading them onwards to search for their missing friend. They arrived at the inn, a wooden sign proclaiming it as such hung near the door with a lantern nearby lighting it up. Through the window, Grian could see some of the Kites lounging around, talking amongst themselves as if nothing was wrong. 

Don’t dwell on it. 

Cleo twisted the doorknob and entered. The chill air followed them inside as they entered. Some of the Kites stopped talking for a brief moment as they glanced at the Canaries, but quickly resumed in their conversation.

Didn’t they know Martyn was gone? Grian wondered. The investigation might be easier if they were helping us… 

Having more eyes on the case was a good idea. Sure, the two groups had a bad first impression, but none of them would want to leave someone behind, right? It was basic human empathy, they could put aside their frustrations to work together.

Grian tilted his head towards two of the Kites having a conversation over some light breakfast. Joel followed his line of sight, glancing from them to Grian, then nodded. Grian walked up to them with a small smile on his face, wanting to be as friendly as he could be. “Hey,” the two kites looked at him in confusion and Grian forced his smile wider. “I know we got off on the wrong foot, and I apologize for that on behalf of the crew. I’m Grian, one of the captains of the Canaries,” he put a hand on his chest. The Kites’ gazes softened. “What are your names?”

The Kite with the split brown and white hair spoke up first with a large grin. “I’m Puffy, and this is Eret,” she extended her hand to gesture at her friend, Eret, who gave Grian a small wave. “Is there something you need?”

“I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation, but we need your help,” Grian dropped his smile, the two Kites leaning in as he sighed. “One of our crewmates is missing, we need more eyes to search the area.”

“Oh no!” Eret gasped. They looked at Puffy and shared a look of concern then nodded. They looked back at Grian. “Of course we’ll help. Let us know where to search and we’ll be on it.” They smiled warmly, but the concern was still present on their face.

“Thank you,” Grian breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. “We aren’t sure where to start, but we’ll let you know.” Eret and Puffy nodded, and with a small wave from Grian, started conferring with each other about telling the other Kites. Their voices were much more quiet as Grian approached Joel.

Cleo, Bdubs, and Lizzie had left to check the room while Grian was speaking to Eret and Puffy. Joel raised his head in acknowledgement. “Good idea to get them on board,” he glanced over at the Kites. “It’ll be easier to search the area with them.”

Grian nodded. It was best for everyone to search for Martyn, starting with the room, but the sketchbook called to Grian. It could just be his curiosity, looking for an excuse to snoop, but maybe there really was a clue in there they might need. “Is it alright if you can check the room with the others, so I can check the sketchbook?” he crossed his arms and tilted his head. “It’s probably for the best that most of us search the room.” 

Joel put a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “Sounds like a plan,” he smiled, “I hope you find something in there.” Grian smiled back weakly and watched as his brother left and walked up the steps to the rooms, listening to the creaks of the floorboards.

Grian sat on one of the chairs and had placed the sketchbook on the table. There was a small lantern in the middle of the table to give it some more light. “Sorry, Martyn…,” he sighed as he opened the sketchbook, flipping through pages as quickly and delicately as he could to skip over some pages he figured weren’t necessary. It should be best to focus on the sketches near the end, maybe he’d written something down, something Grian could use as a clue.

Martyn sketched a lot of things. There were pages of different monsters, unfinished sketches of weapons and items scattered throughout, and there were some of the Canaries. It was sweet. Grian’s heart sank as he flipped through a few pages with Ren and Jimmy, their faces scribbled out and erased or completely unfinished. Illegible writings were on those pages, but Grian couldn’t decipher any. Maybe he didn’t want to.

Flipping through more pages, Grian’s mood got better as he started seeing more pages with Scott on them. Multiple finished sketches of the ginger doing various tasks or sketches of his heterochromatic eyes…. As if Martyn didn’t act smitten enough, it was fairly obvious to see what he enjoyed drawing the most. He was a hopeless romantic with a good heart, if a little bit of a dumb ass.

Grian flipped through the remaining pages, noticing that he was near the end with all the remaining blank pages. It didn’t look like there was anything of note, so Grian sighed as he turned the final page. The notebook idea had been worthless. He hoped Martyn wouldn’t notice his sketchbook had been tampered with, otherwise– huh.

Those eyes…. 

Grian stared at the sketch. It was very detailed and refined, the sclera was shaded and dark compared to the pupil, which was stark white and had four-pointed star-shaped pupils staring right back at him. For something fantastical-looking, it had a lot of detail. Under the sketch, there were some weird scribbles underneath, oddly placed shapes and random strings of words that led nowhere. 

“Is something wrong, Grian?” Grian flinched at Joel’s sudden voice. He turned to see Joel standing behind him with his hands in his pockets.

Grian beckoned Joel to sit on the chair beside him. “Look at this,” he pointed at the odd eyes in the sketchbook. Grian could see there were gears turning in Joel’s head, but the longer he looked at the sketch, the more confused he looked.

“Strange eyes,” Joel muttered, “But I don’t see what’s so important about it.”

But doesn’t it look important? Grian bit his tongue. Why would it be drawn all refined-like if it wasn’t important?

Grian shook his head. Maybe it wasn’t too important for now, but something about the drawing was… off. “I guess it’s not,” he shrugged and shook his head. He’d focus on that drawing later, when Martyn is safe and sound. “Did you find anything?”

Joel sighed and furrowed his eyebrows, disappointed. “Not much, do you want to check it for yourself?”

There wasn’t anything else to do now, right? There shouldn’t be any harm in looking at it. “Yeah…,” Grian spoke quietly. He took one more glance at the drawing before forcing a smile and closing the sketchbook. “Of course.”

Still, even as he followed Joel upstairs, his mind lingered on those unnatural eyes. Just what sort of creature did those belong to?

[astranite]

Of Model Planes and Kind Truths

More neurodivergent Scott and John, but as kids. They are both small and doing their best and trying to figure out how the world works. Lucy is here too and I love her and she's totally autistic too in my head. I wrote this ages ago and was only yesterday I was reminded of it and cheered on by the wonderful @janetm74 so I tidied it up to post!

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Scott yelled at him because John said his model aeroplane didn't look like the one on the box. Which was true , the colours were all mixed together as Scott was too impatient to let them dry properly between painting and the whole frame was sort of squashed where it had fallen off of a table. Sticky globs of glue had adhered themselves to the wings providing most of the structural soundness. 

Scott had burst into tears when John pointed this all out. 

Their dad picked up Scott even though he was too big for it now and carried him out of the kitchen, leaving a bewildered John behind. Mum had to explain that words could upset people and Scotty was crying because he felt John was being mean to him. 

John attempted to explain. “But I didn't mean to be mean! I was just telling him, you and Dad always say to tell the truth.”

“Oh, little star. I know you didn't, but we can hurt people even when that isn't our intention.” 

Mum held out her hands and took John’s small ones in her own as his eyes welled up with tears. 

“You know what you can do to help make it better?” John shook his head as Mum continued. “Your brother worked very hard on making that plane. When you go apologise to him, can you think of some things to say that are kind and honest?”

John nodded, he could do that. He’d make this better.

In the lounge room, Scott sat on Dad’s lap, the model plane clutched to his chest. His face was all red and blotchy. John wiped his sleeve over his own face as Scott’s hurt and his hurt crumpled into a big black hole in his chest. He then flickered his hands at his sides.

John tiptoed across the carpet as it squished beneath his feet. Dad and Scott were looking at him; Dad was smiling a bit but his brother had frowny eyebrows. John stood in front of them, twisting his hands together anxiously. 

“I’m sorry I was mean about your plane. I wasn't trying to be. You worked really hard on it.” The words came out stilted and deliberate.

Now for something kind and true. John cast around for something to say, glancing about the room. Virgie had left their blocks on the floor, all set up in neat rainbow rows.

“It’s good because it’s makes you happy?” He told Scott. 

“And it’s swooshy.” John said it with all of the excitement of figuring out a new science problem, as the words now rushed out. “You painted it with lots of colours and I like colours and so do you. Mixing them together means even more colours!”

Scott’s mouth tipped up at the corners. “It’s okay. You were right, but it’s still cool. And yeah, it goes swoosh because it’s so fast!”

Scott swiped the toy plane through the air as if it was flying. John jumped back as it banked toward him. He followed it with his eyes as it dove and spun in Scott’s hands, as Scott jumped from Dad’s lap to run around the room with him, John matching his dips and turns like he was flying a space shuttle too until they were both grinning and everything was right again.