#badly mangled writing....

[llycaons]

reese reese it rhymes with grease

[juststandingthere]

ISTG this game is making me insane, brainrot strong enough for me to make my first analysis post

One thing i love about the narrative is how distorted the characters, relationships and events are from jimmy's pov. Most posts discussing this focus on Anya, and it makes sense bc she's probably the biggest victim of this. She's seen as less than a person, she's an incompetent nurse, she has a meek personality, she'll let anyone(jimmy) step over her and she still follows his orders, despite everything he has done to her. We obviously see, from curly's pov, that she's simply too terrified of her abuser to act any other way, and when she's not with him she's way more confident and competent.

I haven't seen as many people talking about how this "distortion" affects Swansea and Daisuke as well, including the relationship they have with each other.

We see, in the first Curly section, that Swansea is a great mentor to Daisuke (one might even say they have a father-son/uncle-nephew relationship). He takes his time to teach him not just the basics, but also how to do his job as safely as possible. He lets him take notes, he himself writes stuff down for him to remember and even lets him doodle on those notes! Sure he is harsh with him, but he clearly cares about him and wants him to be safe.

And in return Daisuke looks up to him and has great respect for him, as both a mechanic and a man, while he also makes some jokingly offensive comments towards the older man, showing the close bond they have formed.

But that's not what we see when we play as Jimmy.

In his pov we don't see them interacting much, when they do we either see Swansea insulting Daisuke for no apparent reason or, in one occasion, we see him leading the kid down a "bad path" wanting to teach him how to "drink like a man".

When they aren't interacting tho, we do see hints of their actual relationship: Swansea asking where the kid is when he is "partying" in the lounge, confirming that he does not, in fact, hate spending time with him; him looking desperately for something, *anything*, that could help Daisuke with his suffering after he's injured; how whenever Jimmy tries to bring up to Daisuke how "badly" Swansea treats him, or how he "lied" to them about the utility room, Daisuke immediately shuts him down, because he knows what he's saying is completely wrong (i'm pretty sure those are the only times he doubts something Jimmy says), showing once again the trust and respect he has for his mentor.

(this part is kinda speculative but i think it makes sense)

There are two other times where we see them interacting, where we actually see how much Swansea cares for the kid, and coincidentally, neither of them is seen through Jimmy's eyes, but from a third person pov: what Swansea says right before they knock him out with the drink, about how he resents the people that let Daisuke, someone with his whole life ahead of him, with so much optimism and joy, board the ship for a job that would inevitably leave him "mangled" and "smarter in a worse way" (i could make a whole other essay on this part but i won't), and what he says right before mercy killing him. In that scene specifically, as the camera pans out in the corridor as Swansea raises his axe, ready to take the final swing, Jimmy doesn't see the hesitation in his body language, the way his body tenses, the way he comforts the kid, telling him to close his eyes, the heavy breaths (crying?maybe?) right after the act. He only sees the older man as a monster that would take away an innocent life that jimmy would have been able to fix had he been given the time to fucking think.

Hell, now that i think about it, Swansea's final monologue, where we find out that he is in fact a good man who tried his best to better himself, who simply wanted to protect the kid and give him "a chance off this goddamn rock"(implying that the Cryopod was meant for Daisuke all along) is also shown in third person!

A few other things i found interesting:

1-The missing pieces between what happened to Daisuke in the vent and when Swansea started attacking Jimmy. There's a cut from when Daisuke screams to when he's laying on (Swansea's) bed, bloody and in pain; from when Jimmy uses the mouthwash to disinfect him (which only causes him to suffer more) and two hours later; from after the talk the two men have and the moment Jimmy decides to go find the gun, the axe gone from Daisuke's face. What happened in those missing scenes? Was Swansea the one who helped the kid onto his bed, trying to make him as comfortable as possible? Did he try to comfort him, to distract him, and ease his pain as well as he could? What was his reaction when he had to take back the axe off the face of the young man he had started seeing as his own kid, whose life he had hoped he could save but that he ultimately had to take with his own hands?

I personally think those parts are blocked out of Jimmy's mind, as he couldn't fit them in his own narrative, where he was the hero, Swansea the villain and Daisuke the innocent, young man whose life he tried his best to protect from this "monster" that was now going to come after him.

2-Swansea attacking Jimmy with the axe, especially the cemetery scene, and how it can be interpreted in different ways.

We, the viewers, knowing everything that happened, will see it as a desperate man, Swansea, trying to avenge the lives that had been lost on that ship because of Jimmy (wether directly or not), with Daisuke's death being the last straw. But i don't think that's how Jimmy saw it. He saw swansea as a crazed, mad man, a ruthless killer, coming for him after taking an innocent life, Daisuke's photo and mausoleum as a reminder for Jimmy of what the older man had done, and a justification for what he was about to do.

(not to talk about the implication that the fight against swansea was not as intense as we saw it, only confirming the idea that jimmy was looking for a justification for shooting him)

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

I know we joke about it but it is vital for something to be at least a little bit badly written and/or tragic for me to want to write fanfic for it. It's gotta have cracks for me to wedge myself into, you see, otherwise I might like reading it but my brain will not get feral about it. But you give me an unresolved/botched ending? Kernels of brilliant concepts/amazing characterization in a mangled plot? Sign me the hell up, see you in a couple of weeks with an absolutely brainrotting amount of fix-it fic

[c-rose2081]

Marie Shelly (Lottery Student)

—

Marie is another one of Ever After High’s new Lottery Students, and is Royelle’s roommate for the year :)

Hailing from the dark and morose village of Mistmorrow (a place hidden in the shadow of the late Evil Queen’s castle), lightning flashes and thunder claps whenever Marie is nearby. However, she’s the sweetest girl you’ll ever meet despite her somewhat spooky presence. Most people are too put off by her scarred, pale appearance to really get to know her, but she was badly mangled in a wagon accident as a child, resulting in everlasting marks.

Her mother, Madame Mary, is considered odd and aloof, preferring to sit in candlelight and write books than be out with the common folk. Rumors spread in the village that Marie is actually a horrible abomination created by Madame, pulled and stitched together straight from the pages of the books she writes. This is not true at all.

Marie put her name in the lottery against her mother’s wishes, as Madame is very protective over her daughter due to the constant abuse she receives from others. But Marie is quite wonderstruck by the idea of attending Ever After and is thrilled to be in a place where she might actually make some new friends :)

[rottenpumpkin13]

Reverse the scenario. Sephiroth, the Soldier that is one of the strongest and most highly decorated in shinra, is degrading. He hides it from everyone. He is supposed to be strong. He isn’t supposed to show any weakness. How could a training accident lead to him slowly wasting away? He was better than this. He was built better than any of them!

How does Sephiroth handle being the only one degrading. How do Angeal and Genesis and even Zack handle finding out the truth that their silver general is sick and possibly dying.

The fic I'll never write , titled "Metamorphosis"

• Just as someone might be consumed by guilt after committing a grievous act, Genesis was quite the opposite. Initially, he refused to admit his wrongs for weeks—until relentless overthinking led him to review his actions, pushing the guilt deeper until he finally acquiesced to the possibility that he might have been wrong.

• But this wasn't the case in the training room that day. The guilt that overwhelmed Genesis as he saw Sephiroth lying there, unresponsive, with the red rapier piercing his shoulder was all-consuming. An immediate, "Oh goddess, what have I done" encased him as Angeal screamed at him to stop the simulation, watching the blood pool beneath Sephiroth.

• Angeal knew no man was unbreakable, a belief solidified by his father's death. And yet he often suspected Sephiroth was an exception; the man possessed an indescribable resilience, persisting through anything, even on the brink of death. But no one was invincible, not saints, not heroes, and certainly not Sephiroth.

• SOLDIERs gawked and stared, some even crying in concern, wanting to know what was happening as Genesis and Angeal sprinted down the hallway with him, en route to Hojo's lab—a place they would rather peel their skin off than send Sephiroth. But what choice did they have? For the first time, the red on Genesis' coat was not from the leather but from fresh blood as he carried Sephiroth, rushing into the lab.

• Naturally Hojo and his team were already waiting. Of course. Hojo was always watching, always aware of what was happening with his favorite specimen. They pried Sephiroth off Genesis—pale and unresponsive—and Angeal had to pry Genesis kicking and screaming from the doors that closed behind them.

• The last they saw of Sephiroth, his silver hair was tainted with blood, and his shoulder, bare after they ripped off the coat and pauldrons, was blackening around the mangled skin. The last thing Sephiroth remembered was Genesis charging at him full force as he miscalculated the blow. The first thing he saw upon waking was Hojo grinning down at him—an alarming contrast.

• Curiously, Hojo sent Sephiroth back to his quarters after a night of observation. The professor was giddy, excited, and Sephiroth suspected it was due to the opportunity to study how his body reacted to the new injury. Typical.

• The injury itself was severe—his shoulder was badly damaged and healing slowly. The pain left him biting back groans as he lay in bed, sweating as the pain gripped his flesh, demanding his attention with not a single distraction to mollify the suffering. It was good that Angeal had a key, or else he wouldn't have been able to let them in otherwise.

• They tried to stay and help that night, but Sephiroth was in too much pain to speak and tell them what he needed, and eventually they were asked to leave. They expected Sephiroth to rest for the next week until it healed, but he was back to work the next day, with a visible patch of bandages beneath his coat and his demeanor as stoic and unbothered as ever—or at least that’s what Sephiroth wanted them to think. In truth, he was in so much pain he could barely perform his tasks without stopping to catch his breath and addressing how his body refused to cooperate.

• He had been excused from missions until it healed, which was not a good thing for him, because if he were able-bodied, an assignment would've been the perfect distraction from the pain. His body was different, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it when things happened to his body, and even less when they were out of his control. Professor Hojo had asked to meet with him soon, and for the first time, Sephiroth welcomed the possibility that the man would've been able to do something to help.

• Angeal and Genesis tried to get close to him, and even Angeal's student once tried to ask how Sephiroth was and told him that everyone was concerned for him, but Sephiroth brushed Zack off. The same went for Genesis and Angeal. It wasn’t that he was mad at Genesis; he just had no energy to deal with his friends’ attempts to help on top of the injury.

• He worried about why it wasn't healing. He had never experienced an injury this severe, and even the invasive surgeries Hojo once performed on him were less excruciating . He didn't even know why they were concerned. Soon he would be fine; he just needed to get through this.

• But to Genesis and Angeal, it wasn't just a matter of him being fine and needing to persevere. Sephiroth was changing right before their eyes, right before everyone's eyes. Despite spending less time with people these days—he didn't want to be near them—the transformation was visible.

• It was a physical change. Sephiroth's skin, once bright and luminous, was now pallid, with faint blue veins tracing his neck and chest. His eyes were lifeless, with dark circles indicating his lack of sleep. He had grown thinner, his appetite vanishing in favor of the craving for a cure for whatever it was that plagued him.

• His hair had grown slightly brittle, a subtle change only he noticed from staring at it daily. But the most concerning change was in his eyes. They were turning red. Sephiroth wasn't vain, but even he found the change unsettling. Despite all his qualms about the unnaturalness of his body, he had been healthy before. He had been whole. And he didn't realize that had kept him sane until he lost it.

• The meeting with Hojo finally came. He was sitting in the chair in his office when Hojo threw a thick folder into his lap harshly, one titled "The Jenova Project." Sephiroth didn’t understand. He asked what his mother had to do with this, and Hojo replied, "Everything."

• According to Hojo, Jenova was the catalyst for the changes ravaging Sephiroth's body. As her son, it was inevitable that he would begin to mirror her, with the metamorphosis already happening. Sephiroth was confused. Was his mother not human?

• And so he read the file Hojo provided him with. And read. And read and read until no one saw him for a week. Genesis appeared in the labs demanding to know what happened to Sephiroth, as last anyone heard, he had been going there to see Hojo. But all anyone said was that Sephiroth was busy. Busy where, they didn’t say, and Genesis had no idea Sephiroth was holed up in the archives, reading like a man possessed.

• Until a week later.

• Rumors said that Sephiroth had been cleared for missions by Hojo, but Angeal and Genesis didn’t believe it until Sephiroth strode into the SOLDIER floor briefing room one bright morning, looking satisfied despite the physical decline which had not improved.

• He greeted them cordially as they all sat down, and Angeal asked him how he was feeling.

"I'm much better now," Sephiroth replied, his smile all teeth with not an ounce of sincerity. "I know how to cure myself now."

Genesis and Angeal were skeptical.

"How?" Genesis asked.

"My mother has the cure," Sephiroth said. "I’m going to see her in Nibelheim."

[therealslimshakespeare]

Can you write something with gale and Maureen? Like him taking care of her when she’s sick? Or trying to help her fall asleep?

Love this request doll, thank you. I’ve gotten quite a few requests asking for a fic of him taking care of her when she’s sick/cold, etc, and while I’ll certainly write another corresponding with those, I felt like yours gave me a chance to establish a little chronology of his doting on her. Which leads us to—helping her fall asleep on the:

First Night

It had been lights out for over an hour now, and still, Gale could sense the shifting restless around him. As the men’s initial post-battle fatigue had lessened and the dull predictability of one’s camp days settled in, the nights became longer, less restful and more of a routine than a respite. They could lay in their beds most the day or else walk and sit and lay somewhere else, there was no exhausted relief to be found climbing into a bunk. Gale missed the taxing demand for rest that came with a regimented military life. He knew he wasn’t alone in it.

Now there was the invigorating addition of the presence of the women at camp, and like kids at a sleepover -or so Gale heard sleepovers were like that, he’d never been to one- all rooms were filled with restless chit chat and lack of calm. He’d had to go along the hall of his integrated combine before lights out to warn everyone to shush it.

At least they were amalgamating well.

There was so much to catch up on by each crew and any new bit of information a new prisoner carried in was worth more than Broadway tickets back home, added to that was the old natural way of men not knowing when to shut the hell up around the fairer sex.

So Gale had knocked on doors and doused lightbulbs like the bucket of cold water that he was, and then returned to his own bunk in the subsequent quiet, only to cave and allow John Brady thirty more minutes of risky light use to keep mending -and watch his tolerably death-like and unconscious sister as she shallowly breathed on a lower bunk.

Gale had once hauled himself up and out of his second tier bunk opposite her to put his hand in front of Ida’s lips, she had gotten so still for a bit. “You should sleep by her.” he told Brady, recalling times his father’s warmth had been the only thing to keep him alive some nights in the park. He was rather certain Johnny meant to do it anyway, but he wasn’t a readable fella and his curt nod was all Gale got along with the ever faithful, “yes sir.”

When Gale had finally demanded they cut the bulb, he watched as Brady carefully climbed in and lay behind Ida without disturbing her, two lanky, stacked sardines with plenty of room and not enough fat on either of them to keep a water bottle thawed in this weather. Gale shrugged and flicked the light -family genes couldn’t be helped.

What could be helped was Maureen’s dripping hair. After the showers she had sat herself down at the table and demanded they deal her a hand of cards, burnt auburn hair dripping ice water down the back of her borrowed shirt.

Her shivers rattled her so badly she had dropped her cards multiple times, made worse by her mangled hands. They’d paused the game to have Hambone and Tallulah come in and wrench her middle and fourth fingers straight. Hamilton swore he had experience from his own injuries and T. Smith had grown up on a farm, excellent referrals both. The ordeal could’ve been worse, Gale supposed.

Benny had gagged while watching it, Gale had wanted to while holding her wrist down, Hambone had growled “fuck” more times than John had ever heard him during a mission and Ida didn’t even wake from Maureen’s yells -so out of it was she on the bunk she’d wobbled into and fallen asleep on.

Now Maureen sat stubbornly at the table in the dark, still consulting her deck of cards as if she could discern a diamond from a spade.

“Bed.” Gale told her despite her petulance, and the boys were good enough not to encourage her rebellion for once, taking themselves to their own bunks with little fanfare, “Don’t wanna get us in trouble for lights on your first night do ya? Make Ida stand out in the cold for inspections? Good, because I don’t want you out there with that hair.”

“It’s taking forever to dry and I don’t want to get my pillow wet.” Maureen protested.

“You can’t just sit here in the dark.” he muttered.

“Johnny would’ve.” she hit back. Gale wasn’t sure since when John Brady had been the yardstick by which Maureen measured human behavior, but it had been about as long as Gale knew her.

“Yeah but now Johnny’s in bed like a good boy.” Gale observed.

He heard someone titter and if he had to throw a dart at the offender in the gray dark it would be aimed towards Demarco’s bunk. “Johnny hasn’t got my hair. Ida either…anymore.” she added with childlike insensitivity.

“You should braid it.” Demarco’s voice suggested from the dark of his bunk.

“Hands can’t do squat.” Maureen was starting to sound offended by how often they forgot about her hands. She’d dropped her cards as often from their gnarled swelling as from her shivers, and every time one of the guys tried to ignore it or give a kinder explanation she would hold them up like she wanted them to recall what she was working with. Most of the fellas would’ve rather looked into hell’s portal than keep contemplating her hands or what they meant.

“Lemme braid your hair.” Gale told her, he didn’t ask and he didn’t thank Benny for the suggestion.

Maureen scoffed as he scooped up the frigid, wet strands from her shoulders and began to divide them in his hands. “Like you know how.”

“I do.” he patiently insisted after a few moments of the more convincing argument of his actually braiding it.

“Who else have you done this for? Who taught you?” Maureen’s jealousy was palpable to everyone and even Brady snickered softly at her this time.

“Horses, Maureen. My uncle had horses.”

Maureen didn’t reply to that, in fact, besides brawling japes during cards and her arguments against bedtime,

she hadn’t said much since coming back from the showers. She was cold to the touch when Gale finished his braid and squeezed the last bit of wet he could from the woven rope and then he bodily deposited her in her bunk. An adjacent one to his, on the same level, their heads were nearly beside each other’s in the cramped stack.

And now, an hour afterwards, everyone was still tossing in the dark except for Ida and her brother, and Gale had no peace with Maureen’s chattering teeth just a few inches away and her crushed hands dancing in front of his eyes everytime he closed them.

He thought of a lot of things to whisper to her, questions, comforts, even jokes. They never got out of his tightening throat as sixty minutes ticked by and he kept staring up at the slats of the bunk above him like that would keep the flashing image of her hands away. Suddenly the chatter of teeth stopped and he felt himself begin to relax in turn, hopeful she’d drifted off.

The unmistakable sound of a sob followed shortly after and it messed with the rhythm of his heart worse than jumping from his spiraling plane had.

“Maureen?” he questioned softly, as if there could be any doubt.

The sobs only gained frequency and vigor. Gale rolled himself over on his belly, and without thinking it through for once, impulsively threaded his arm through the divide to her bunk, laying his arm along her pillow and cupping the cheek closest to him. The humid blast of her breath against his palm tore at him and he thumbed over her wobbling lips. “Maureen,” he begged again, hoarse from his damn throat and in an effort to be quiet, “what- what is it?”

What can I do?—is what he meant.

“Having a cry Cleven.” She informed him angrily and without discretion in her volume except for what her sniffles required, “Can’t a gal have a well earned cry? Told you I wouldn’t manage to sleep.”

Ah, so the cry was his fault. Gale sighed and couldn’t help his sideways glance at Ida’s bunk. Not that he wanted such unnatural, deathly peace for Maureen. It would scare the fuck out of Gale, just as it was scaring the fuck outta Johnny who Gale knew was owl eyed awake right across from him and his now sobbing bombardier.

“I’m sorry.” Gale offered her impotently, childish habits coming to the fore in his helplessness, -how sorry he’d been time and again growing up, sorry for wall street crashing and Hoover having won that last time and the fact there weren’t any more quarters left for a soda and that the malnourished dog lost that one race and being sorry, so goddamn sorry all the damn time just so his father would finally absolve him with, “it’s ok, son” in return.

“And now my pillow’s wet!” -Maureen never absolved him of shit, she piled on and somehow Gale found himself devoted to that honest cruelty too, in a more mature, twisted, fucked sorta way. “I told you my pillow would get wet and I’d be cold!”

“You can have mine.” he tried.

“Oh yeah, and get it wet too.” her anger huffed out into his palm and it made him feel funny, like he was feeling her breath all along him, her emotion too, her outright disapproval of him. It always made him feel funny, feel desperate without feeling wrong or sorry. He’d never taken the fall for something that wasn’t his to own up to, not since he became a man. Not until her. He felt himself swelling against the mattress and wanted to say sorry for that, too.

—can’t help it around you.

He’d taken up excuse making as well since her, it proved so damn effective. Way more than his apologies.

“I could use cooling down.” he realized aloud and tugged her damp pillow out from under her head without warning, “Don’t fuckin’ test me Kendeigh, not tonight.” he warned at her stiff neck as he used her braid to lift her head and slide his under her head.

He settled his confiscated pillow closer to hers, his cheek pressed to her tears and shower wet, their heads practically aligned and in the dim light he could make out the curve of her nose. Such a pretty nose, he’d been enchanted with it from the minute she cocked her head at him in the glass nose of Our Baby.

Maureen had stopped crying. Her arm swung above her head and slithered under his blankets until she’d grabbed hold of what she wanted, bringing his hand up by the wrist until it was cupping her cheek again. She nuzzled her face into it and kissed his palm, the glitter of her eyes discernible between his fingers to the scrutiny of a lover as enamored as Gale.

“Sorry.” she whispered at long last into his palm and he shuddered.

“Don’t be sorry.” he commanded.

“I feel better.” she said.

“Good.”

Her hand darted out the top of her blanket and cupped his cheek, mirroring him. She thumbed at the smooth skin of his face with a swollen thumb until she found his poorly healed scar. “Wanna give it a try?” she asked. “We swapped pillows, it’s wet anyway, no one would know.”

“I don’t need a cry.” he declined gently.

“Ooh, does my Major need other things?” Maureen’s voice had gone saucy -and thankfully hushed- despite the stuffed up quality of her nose but the thought of her hands curdled his reaction to the tease immediately.

“No.” he breathed, hating the crowded room and the faux intimacy of this moment. Maureen was always more immune to intrusion but he couldn’t pretend to match her. “I just need you safe.” he begged, for if her ordeal had ended at her arrival here, he felt his had just begun.

The thumb stroking Gale’s cheek dipped lower until it was tracing his upper lip, slipping to the crease of his mouth, gently parting his plush lips until she had her finger past them, resting on his teeth. “I’m with you.” Maureen muttered, “Of course I’ll be safe.”

Gale closed his mouth around her, tongue lathing at the pad of her thumb, cheeks hollowed in an innate impulse for suction. Maureen’s presence made him feel odd, always had. Her nose came to rest against his and that was the last he recalled of the night, the gusts of her breath evening out against his face, the weight of her thumb on his tongue, the drowsy and unheeded regret that he had already compromised so far on their first night.

When he was startled awake next morning by a shake to the shoulder, mouth dry and her thumb still between his teeth, Cleven could only be grateful it was by Brady and unseen by the rest of the still sleeping men. The fact Maureen seemed to have been already awake and merely staring at him while he slept was another unsettling matter. As were the deep circles under Brady’s soft eyes: the kid looked like he hadn’t slept a wink and Gale wondered briefly how long his poor subordinate had stared at his bunk and hoped the thumb would fall out before rousing his superior. Or if Maureen had made eye contact during it. Oh for God’s sake...

Obviously Brady’s patience had run out with a hard shake, because -“It’s Ida, she won’t fuckin’ respond but she’s bowin’ up till I think her neck might snap.”

Well that got Gale tumbling out of bed.

💋 Hope you enjoyed! Feedback is a writer’s lifeblood, please feel free to scream in comments or the inbox, I love it and wanna hear it all. Trust me, nothing is “too dumb”. Your thoughts mean the world to me.

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[jumpywhumpywriter]

Sidekick's Death -- and Hero's Rage part 1

Warnings: death of Hero's sidekick, grief & denial, bleeding and grievous injuries, passing out

This one's for you, @sausages-things! I know you've been waiting for this one :)

I took an Anon story request a different writer got who wasn't interested in writing it -- so I wrote it instead!

Anon request: Hero very suddenly loses their sidekick they thought of as a younger family member in an attack from Supervillain, but who is immediately consoling the screaming grieving hero as they try to rush to Sidekick's body but Villain.

Villain who's their rival but not a monster, who roughly holds Hero against them as they sob and claw blindly in grief, it's Villain who takes them home away from prying eyes of the media, it's Villain who gives them something for the shock. They were fond of Sidekick too, in the way your friend's sibling grows on you the more you're around them.

Story:

Hero couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe her eyes when Supervillain stabbed his blade so deep into Sidekick's chest it punched clean through. Couldn't believe when he dropped Sidekick into a crumpled, bloody heap on the ground. Couldn't believe that Sidekick didn't get back up.

Time slowed to a crawl, Hero frozen in place staring at Sidekick's unmoving form laying limply on the ground, Supervillain stepping away from him.

"Come on, Sidekick," Hero whispered under their breath. "Please get up… you always get back up..." She had lost sight of her sidekick for mere seconds as she fought Villain -- and Supervillain had taken the golden opportunity to teleport over to their apprentice and kill him while she was distracted.

But Sidekick couldn't be dead--he couldn't--

"No," Hero breathed in horror. "NO!"

Supervillain wrinkled his nose in disdain at Sidekick's body and toed it cautiously to make sure he was really dead, a stunned Villain standing at his side. Villain's face was slack with shock, like he hadn't expected Supervillain to actually kill Sidekick.

"We're done here, Villain," Supervillain announced coldly. "I'll meet you back at the base later." Then he teleported, closing his eyes and vanishing from existence.

And for a long, awful moment, everything was silent. Then Hero let out an ear-splitting wail, stumbling over to Sidekick, even badly injured as she was. She was bleeding from various injuries, limping and staggering forward as she forced her beaten, broken body to move, to rush to Sidekick's side and help him up to get him to a hospital and--

Villain was suddenly in front of her, blocking her view of Sidekick before she could get close enough to get a good look at him. His lips were tightened in a grim line, expression unreadable.

"Get out of the way," Hero snarled viciously, and swung a weak fist at his face, which Villain easily caught and deflected, sending her stumbling off-balance.

"Villain, I swear if you do not move right now I will--"

"Hero."

"Sidekick needs me--"

"Hero." Villain's voice cracked, and Hero finally glanced up to meet his gaze. His face was no longer impassive, but sad and knowing and sympathetic all in one.

"Hero. He's gone. Trust me, you don't want to see him right now."

"Trust you," Hero echoed, then laughed maniacally, tears springing to her eyes. "TRUST YOU?! You're the reason Sidekick's--" she couldn't bring herself to say it. "If you hadn't distracted me, Supervillain would have never had the chance to get close to him! Now MOVE." She tried to push past him, but Villain stood firm, blocking her view of the bloody, mangled corpse of Sidekick behind him. It wasn't a clean death; it was messy, and horrifying, and outright traumatizing to look at. Villain couldn't let Hero see her friend like that. He himself really wanted to vomit right now.

Hero was stubborn, tears streaming down her bloody, bruised face as she shoved Villain hard in the chest, trying to push him away. But Villain didn't budge, and it was easy to hold the already weak and injured Hero back.

"Hero, listen--"

"No! NO!" Hero shrieked, a raw, wounded sound tearing out of her chest. "SIDEKICK ISN'T--"

"He's dead, Hero," Villain whispered. His own heart ached with grief -- he'd grown fond of Sidekick over the years, his bubbling, bright nature even in the heat of the fight. They were fond of Sidekick in the way your friend's sibling grows on you the more you're around them.

Hero screamed in a mix of fury and pain, stumbling into Villain in a last effort to push past him and go to Sidekick's side -- to help him, to do something other than just accept he was gone -- but Villain caught her, holding her firmly but gently, not fighting back as Hero lashed out and pounded on his chest with her fists in weak blows, flailing blindly and wailing in grief and pain.

Hero panted and sobbed, her blows weak and ineffective as she expended the last of her strength. "Villain, please," she cried, right as her legs finally buckled, Villain catching her and becoming the only thing keeping her from hitting the hard ground. She sobbed into his shoulder, clawing blindly at him, body going limp with exhaustion and pain. "Villain, you have to let me--"

"I'm sorry," Villain choked out, breath hitching. "You shouldn't have to see Sidekick like this. I... can't let you do that to yourself."

"But I need to--"

"You don't. You really don't," Villain cut her off. "Believe me."

"No! You can't deny me this!" Hero howled in anguish, screaming her pain to the world. Her breathing was harsh and ragged as Villain lowered her to the ground, where she flopped limply onto her front in the dirt.

Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

look you have to start somewhere so im gonna start by frustrating to death every kind of scientist and also the casual enjoyer of the meanings of english words

i think if you can write complex and elegant enough technobabble you can approximate what it feels like to hear a gallifreyan conversation

[twothpaste]

thinkin bout kumatora & postgame claus

How surreal it must be - after fighting for their lives against the Masked Man multiple times - for Claus to suddenly be airdropped into Kumatora's periphery. How she knew, quite possibly from the first time she laid eyes on him, who he really was. But she refused to intervene, couldn't bring herself to tell Lucas, bitterly resigned herself to writing him off as a lost cause. Now, against all odds or reason, he's still here. And he's literally just a scared broken kid.

The fact he looks just like Lucas is probably beyond gutwrenching. Kuma traveled their whole tiny fuckin' world with Lucas at her side, put all her trust in him, welcomed him into her life as her dearest friend. She came to admire his bravery. She saw his innocence pitted against everyone else's cruelty, and swore to protect him. And now there's this kid - who shares his face - who got kidnapped and chopped up and stitched back together with incorrect metal parts. Got fucking lobotomized, totally mind wiped - everything Kuma finds wholesome and earnest and lovable about Lucas was ripped away from Claus. One of his eyes is sick with exhaustion, the other's some intrusive mechanical mockery they stuffed into his mess of scars. Even just glancing at him probably invokes horrific hypotheticals and gruesome imagery in Kumatora's head, what if they'd done that to Lucas, if they'd done that to Lucas she'd burn down the whole fucking planet Earth!! And why shouldn't she, when they did it to his identical twin brother?! And Claus flinches at the way she looks at him, senses her telepathic fury - probably thinks she's vying for vengeance against him, for what he did to her friends and her family - and he wouldn't blame her! And Kumatora's gotta stand up and leave the room, before her tears start boiling over.

How Claus tries his darndest to rekindle his old self, tryin to cast necromancy on his goofy childhood sense of humor, the boisterous little schmuck he used to be. He musters toothy grins, he attempts reckless stunts, he pokes fun at his brother. And sure, Kuma's heard plenty of stories from Lucas about that funny ol' farm boy. She's sharp as a knife though. She can tell Claus is forcing it. But somehow the effort is all the more tragic, even endearing, maybe even relatable. Hasn't she been putting up a tough front all this time, too? While she too oughtta be grieving her family? Claus cracks some corny-ass joke, and she catches the dry strain in his awkward tweenage voice. But she laughs with him anyways. And reaches over to ruffle his stupid orange hair.

He has trouble sleeping, often plagued by night terrors, and insomnia, and all the strange aches in his mangled and mutilated body. Kuma has trouble sleeping, too. It's hard to shut her brain up at night, now that her whole universe has been twisted inside out and turned on its head. While Lucas snoozes like a pile of rocks, she stays up to accompany his brother. They try to talk about everything besides the shit that's happened to them. If not just for their own sakes, for each others'. She'd like to take his mind off it, if she can. When he tells another dumb joke, this time about how badly Duster's socks reek, she blinks. Recognizing he's tryin' to do the same for her. His strains and migraines sometimes steal away his humor, his sleep, and even his breath. Kuma's got PSI Lifeup. Not as potent as Lucas'. But she'll offer what she can. Mixolydia taught her to knead tension from temples, and how to give a halfway decent shoulder massage. She's mortified to discover his muscles are just as tense as the steel on the other side. She tries to laugh that off, too. And hold back another round of broiling tears, when he musters a weak chuckle in reply.

Claus should've known the "tough older brother" schtick wasn't built to last. They're twins, for christ's sake. A difference of fourteen minutes doesn't make him any more reliable, doesn't make him a better protector, doesn't charge him with any more responsibility than Lucas. Still, the cutesy mythos their family and neighbors'd built around the two of them stays lodged in his chest. Alongside the bygone image of his wimpy younger twin, cryin' his guts out over a scraped knee. Claus' failure feels immense, unconscionable, treachery of the highest degree. Somehow, though? Havin' a big sister almost seems to balance the scales. Puts it all into clearer perspective. He used to wear 'eldest sibling' as a badge of honor. These days, he's relieved to find the burden's not quite all his. Kuma guides both twins to trespass with her on a high rooftop. And catches Lucas by the collar, when a clumsy overstep nearly has him slippin' off the edge.

She confesses her darkest secret, on one of those sleepless nights. Tells him she knew from the start, that Lucas had a twin. Put the pieces together the minute she saw him, leering down from that airship, his helmet gleaming in the sun. And her molten tears finally get the better of her - "damn it" - when she reckons she might couldda saved him, freed him that much sooner, kept him from havin' to fight his brother - if only she'd been brave enough to say so. Probably not, really. But maybe. Kumatora may expect somethin' akin to vengeance, in the way he looks at her. She wouldn't blame him. He shakes his head, though. Says he's sorry, too - for what he did to her family. That maybe each n' every one of 'em would still be here, if not for him. Probably not. But maybe. When she lost Ionia, Kumatora'd been convinced there was no one left in this world who would love her. She's starting to realize these days that she was gravely mistaken. She's not only loved, but needed. It's a warm, curious, brand new feeling in her chest. Deep in Claus' guts, twisted as it all seems, some part of him is just glad someone recognized the kid in the mask.

They hug it out. And maybe wrestle a little, before falling asleep at dawn.

[jubileeena]

BEHOLD: MALWARE AU

So. We all know Turbo. He's kind of the flavour of the month right now. He's a horrible little piece of shit and we love him for that!

As a result of a couple posts that I'll link when I'm on desktop (or you can look through my blog its some of my most recent reblogs) and That One Video Essay I got to thinking about how much of Turbo's actions came from his nature, what cropped up out of desperation and jealousy, and what came from the nightmare virus that ate him. Then I got to writing. A lot. And now I have a monster fanfic that might or might not ever get written but I might actually explode if I don't share some of it.

This snippet revolves around Vanellope, mostly, and my continuous ongoing realization that modding/slightly retexturing video games is actually a lot easier than I thought it was. Enjoy!

Prologue

Vanellope hasn't been a part of her own game for 15 years. It's long since figured out how to function around her, but now King Candy's been dealt with via hot cola insecticide and she adamantly refuses to ride in his little vanilla-white kart. Not with her own baby waiting right there for her.

Except the game really really wants her to.

The kart bakery is supposed to be a fun side minigame. The kart lasts until the player stops feeding the game quarters, then it will restore itself to the default kart for the racer.

She's been carefully ignoring the crackling parts of code that bubble up around her when she revvs the engine too hard for days now, telling herself it was just remnants of her own glitch messing with her driving. But right after she crossed the finish line at the end of the final race of that day, it glitched so badly she was left lying on the track as it rammed itself into the boundary.

She'd spent most of that evening moping around and complaining under her breath about the mess her predecessor had left her - - until she thought huh. If Turbo could program his whole throne-stealing butt into the game, why couldn't she just... Slip in and fix her kart?

Sour Bill didn't seem happy at all when she slipped behind the curtain of her throne room (bleh. Needed to redecorate that soon. Way too princess-y for her taste), but he dutifully agreed to stand guard as she followed the instructions on the handy little piece of paper that lay discarded on the floor.

Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, B, A, START

Yes! She jumped into the darkness without thinking, entranced by the nebula of nodes and string of information that made the glitch constantly buzzing under her skin sing.

This is what she was meant for. This was why the game kept her around. It loved her.

Her node was easy to find, set in the center as it was with streams of code coming from it. She blipped up to it, and kicked her feet excitedly as she floated in place, and tapped it to enlarge it.

Wow, it really was easy. All she had to do was find her primary kart file, and swap it with the one in the Bakery's subfolder that held the information for her baby, and that was that. No wonder King Boogerface managed to mess things around so much, if what was all it took.

Task complete, she turned around to try and reorient herself to find the exit again, but a flickering node caught her eye.

It was strobing worse than any of the others, and there was no visible text on it to give any clue as to what it could be. She blipped over to it and tapped on it-

Only to be thrown backwards as it quadrupled in size, mangled streams of code now visible through it's translucent surface.

She glitched again to lose her momentum and stop somersaulting through the void, then back towards the code box. She reached a hand inside and flicked her wrist in a movement she instinctively remembered, and pressed confirm when the prompt came up to clear the cache memory.

It spluttered for a moment, then as if expelling a sickness the darkness bled from the body of the node and dissolved into the void, leaving behind a little red code box, smaller and less defined than the rest, connected to everything with only a thin strand but with it's pixelated text quite clear for her to read, and her breath hitched.

Turbo

[mr-1-2-3-4]

Happy birthday James!

(I think we might know who’s jacket that belongs to👀)

@pampanope @tw1nkee28 @olibird

Lore time!

In the past after Oak died about week after Pixel woke up from a week long coma, he went to his room and found a box with Oak’s hand writing on it, when Pixel opened it, it was his Shadow Demon. the hood horns, his wendigo footprint boots, the mask he now wears, and Oak’s bandana/scarf. After looking at it for the rest of the day, Pixel put it in and left base without anyone knowing, he got on his motorcycle and when to a Konni warehouse and parked in the woods a good distance away, he killed 2 Konni guards in the woods and and left the others hurt badly, when he got in the warehouse, just going into the front door, he waited for the Konni soldiers to see him before just losing it and killed most of 15 in there, before heading to the Konni soldier who killed Oak, he take kindly to him, leaving the Konni lieutenant body a mangled and bloody mess somehow, and leaving him alive and took him outside and started a fire, and made the konni lieutenant live out hell while he was already in pain, he simply watch through his sunglasses with nothing in eyes, no signs of showing any mercy, and when the was started to come up let’s just say Pixel got bored and messed with the bodies in front the half conscious soldiers, just making everything a blood bath like what happened when Pixel lost Oak. When he was done he burned the warehouse. Giving Pixel the nickname “The Shadow Demon”

The downside is for how much energy Pixel used he fell unconscious and thankfully woke up in Shadow company’s med bay, but he still doesn’t know how he got back to base till this day

(Hope I spelled everything correctly)

[anonymousredactedconfessions]

So ALEXIS. Before I start, I get that when you really like something, criticism can sometimes feel like a personal attack. But, come on. It is audio roleplay my love. You'll survive. Just because someone critiques Erik does not mean the world is going to end. It is how art develops. Through critique, not yes-men.

I have no opinion on her tbh. She's just kinda there. But I've seen so much hate about whether someone is an 'Alexis supporter/ apologist' or not, and equating that to supporting rapists. Hello? Are we on planet earth right now?

1. I'm not massive into the Solaire plot but I'm sure as hell she didn't do that and 2. People interpret characters in different ways. Alexis isn't super developed. There's room for growth there. But people get so hateful and vindictive over someone doing something as small as saying 'Alexis redemption arc?' or writing a fic about her that isn't calling her a stupid bitch (because daddy Sam hates her, which is understandable, but christ). Are stories just endless fluff, all filler no plot to you people? You're boring as hell if so. Yes, so fun. Everyone has clearly defined morality with no nuance or opportunity for change. Yay! Don't interpret the medium!! Media literacy!!!

Alexis has a weird double standard around her too. If unconsensual turnings are meant to be a sexual assault allegory (which is so fucking badly handled if so), then where is this energy for William? Or Fred, even? Hell, or Sam, who let Fred turn Bright without their consent? Ik Sam outright said no to Alexis, but to say it's different is to say that Bright and Vincent don't count, basically because they grew to 'like it'. See where the allegory becomes very problematic, very fast? It would also imply that Sam, in this case an allegory of a sexual assault survivor, watched another person get sexually assaulted in front of him and did nothing. Hm. Let's not use that argument perhaps.

Also, I think it's very likely she just panicked. Honestly, who the fuck is calm and rational after a CAR ACCIDENT? Still an immensely fucked up thing to do. And, idk cause I've obviously never been in that situation, but I think a lot of us would've done what she did if we saw someone we loved mangled and dying in front of us and we had the power she had to save them. Is it moral in any way? Absolutely not. She didn't listen to him and that's obviously terrible. Yet, it's remarkably human. But no, Alexis is a stupid bitch. You support her?Kys. Delightful guys.

She's a prick, sure. Clearly not a great person. Yet you still simp over people like Vega? You know damn well he would've wiped Caelum's tiny ass of the map if Gavin and Freelancer didn't intervene. Different standards again. Or Blake?

I just think you all need to chill. She's alr, I guess, and entertaining when she's on screen. Just calm down and go touch grass. She's not real.

.

[minnarr]

post-canon shl scenario where chengling writes terrible goopy adventures-with-background-romance starring wen kexing and zhou zishu. none of them are true, except that wenzhou ARE ridiculous people in love who have had their fair share of adventures. he saves the true stories for his disciples, but it's nice to have fun stories about them out there. amusing AND therapeutic.

but they somehow hit some tipping point where they go from amusing niche things to suddenly everybody is reading them. shen shen's suddenly furtively asking cl things like "did wen kexing REALLY..." no one knows chengling's writing them; people mostly chalk it up to someone who got really taken with a rumor about them and ran with it. wenzhou meanwhile are blissfully unaware of their new flavor of fame.

until yby shows up with a copy solely so he can read bits aloud while wkx like, chases him with a knife and demands he tell him who wrote them and then loudly makes plans about going down the mountain to find them. (he will not do this and everyone knows this; zzs is on the mountain).

meanwhile, while zzs and cl sit quietly at the table together with sounds of wkx and yby chaos in the background:

zzs: so how much to put this poetry quote in wen kexing's dialogue cl: [reading a badly mangled line and trying not to laugh] i'm sure i don't know what shifu is talking about....

[mania-sama]

It's been a while since i've done a song analysis, so I'm going to come back into it with That's So True and how it is so incredibly KevJean core at the time that Kevin fled Edgar Allen and Evermore/the Nest that I HAVE to write it. This song has been haunting my nightmares and playing on repeat in my car. All I can think about is them when I hear it and scream the lyrics.

"I could go and read your mind / Think about your dumb face all the time / Looking into your big blue eyes / Did it just to hurt me, make me cry." -> Jean knew Kevin was different from Riko since the get-go. Riko thrived in the Nest. While Kevin was good, Kevin also had aspirations and dreams that tried to take flight from the cage it was trapped in. A history degree, in spite of the required business degree, for one. Jean was pulled in by Kevin's inherent charisma, his beautiful face, and it was what hurt him. We see in his point of view how badly he regrets letting himself get close to Kevin, letting himself trust him, even into his Trojan arc. We see how much that hurt, when Kevin left. How not only did Kevin leave Jean, but also revealed their secret that Kevin made between them. At the time, Jean could only think that Kevin did it just to hurt him, to send him through the deepest layers of Hell even though Jean had already thought he was in it.

"Smiling through it all, yeah, that's my life." -> Not only does this fit Jean, but it fits Kevin as well. Both of them were being observed all of the time. Jean couldn't show his hurt to the rest of the team, but Kevin? Kevin was hiding everything from the cameras constantly pointed at him. Even when he fled the Nest and took refuge with the foxes, he pretended as though his hand was mangled in a skiing accident until the last book. They put on their brave faces and smiled. Only, Kevin's been doing it as long as he's been alive. While this analysis is mainly about Jean, I want to point out where it fits Kevin like a glove, too. Smiling through it, or, at least, not showing the dead weight of their lame legs has been their character arcs throughout the books.

"Bet you're thinking, "She's so cool" / Kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room / Wait, I think I've been there too / What'd she do to get you off? / Taking down her hair like, oh my God / Taking off your shirt, I did that once or twice." -> Then there is that lick of jealousy. Rather than thinking this is about Kevin's canonical girlfriend, Thea, I think that this is in relation to the Foxes themselves. Kevin no longer cares for Jean or the Ravens anymore, supposedly. He cares for the Foxes now. And perhaps the Foxes are enamored with Kevin like Jean was before Kevin betrayed him and slit his throat. He's wondering what they have that he doesn't, even though it's petty and stupid and wrong, since he knows exactly why Kevin left and exactly why Jean will never be enough for him. He wonders if they are playing and talking and passing to him like Jean once did, doing all the same things, and he goes through the agonizing cycle over and over again until it's too much to bear.

"No, I know and I'll fuck off / But I think I like her, she's so fun / Wait I think I hate her / I'm not that evolved." -> Jealousy and hatred go hand and hand. I don't think he's ever liked or been impressed with the Foxes to begin with. And now? Now it's even worse, because he has to battle with the fact that Kevin chose them and not the best Exy team in the United States. He chose the one that's dead last. Surely there has to be a redeeming quality? Jean pours over them, absorbing ever single play, trying to see in them what Kevin apparently sees, and comes away with nothing but confusion and hatred.

"You've got me thinking she's so cool / But I know what I know and you're just another dude / That's so true." -> And in the end, when all is said and done, he has to contend with the fact that Kevin is just some pretty boy he fell for. That is all there really is to it, for him. He got hurt by just another boy. The Foxes don't have to be anything special. Jean doesn't have to be anything special, because Kevin is just Kevin in his personal life. To the Exy world, he may be a star. But to Jean, Kevin is another boy. Another man that hurt him (even if it is not that simple).

"Made it out alive, but I think I lost it / Said that I was fine, said it from my coffin / Remember how I died, when you started walking? / That's my life, that's my life." -> He made it out of Riko's punishment physically alive, that much is true. But this is what is going through his head when Kevin pops up on the television screen, his announcement of his transfer to the Palmetto State Foxes blaring in the Nest and in the halls of Edgar Allen University. He is screaming to himself that he told himself it was fine for all of these years, that it is fine that Kevin left and slit his throat on the way out, but it's not. He lost a part of himself back when Kevin's hand was broken. Kevin walked out, and he sliced Jean open on the way. He left Jean for dead, even though the Nest is his life. It's the only place he can be, and Kevin knows that. He knows that Jean isn't like the other players, and yet. And yet. That was his life, and Kevin did his goddamn best to ruin it, in Jean's mind. And I can imagine this was all coming back to him when he was locked away with the Foxes after Renee saved him. When Kevin comes around to visit, it's all rushing back to him in a tipsy, pain-hazed blur, of the day Kevin walked and ruined Jean's entire fragile paradise with him.

"I'll put up a fight, taking out my earrings / Don't you know the vibe, don't you know the feeling?" -> I like to think that this is part of Kevin's response to Jean. Because Kevin knows very well how Jean feels. He knows that what he did hurt Jean, and he knows that Jean will never truly forgive him for doing something Kevin had to do. Jean's fight had left him. He gave up resisting because it only made his life worse than it already was. Kevin, not so much. Riko mangled his hand, and Kevin put up the fight of his life to leave. He got a backbone and left. He took out his earrings and left behind the place that was damaging. Don't you know the vibe? The feeling? Kevin begs, asking Jean to understand what the calling of a better place looks like. How Penn States and the Foxes called to him so he could finally be free. Because surely Jean has heard it before; they both have. Kevin just stopped ignoring it.

"You should spend the night / Catch me on your ceiling / That's your prize, that's your prize." -> And this is Jean’s final response to Kevin. That Kevin still left and still slit his throat on the way out. Kevin escaped, but at what cost to Jean? Perhaps there is that small, bitter part of him that wants Kevin to lay awake at night and remember just how badly he wronged Jean. Bitterness gets you nowhere, but Jean isn't going anywhere anyway.

[not-poignant]

Daily excerpt from today's writing, chapter 14 of Underline the Blue:

‘Nate, it hurts when you use suicide like an ultimatum, without giving me a chance to talk to you first,’ Janusz said, his voice surprisingly stern. Nate hated that tone. He buried his face in Janusz’ shoulder, and whined when fingers stroked his hair. He didn’t deserve all this comfort, did he? He didn’t deserve any of it. ‘But you’re hurting so, so badly. We’re not going to place you with another alpha until you decide you’re ready. If you don’t decide you’re ready, we’ll figure something out. In the meantime, you’re going to live here with me, and share your heats with me so you don’t get hurt. Okay?’ ‘But I cost money. Christian won’t pay forever. I bet he stops now. He’ll stop. He doesn’t- He has someone else.’ ‘Shhh, Nate. Listen to me. Hillview costs so much so we can put funds aside to support omegas like you who need a place to live, and space to recover. You can stay here for as long as you need to. We’ve got your back, Nate. It might not be what you’re used to, and you might think we’re too nice, but don’t you feel like you might need something that’s nice for a little while?’ Nate wiped his face on Janusz’ shirt even though he was crying all over again. ‘Let it out, sweetheart,’ Janusz crooned. ‘No one’s going to yell at you for having feelings here. Especially about this. And later you’ll have a nap, and then we’ll make something nice to eat, okay? Do you want to help me?’ ‘Can I?’ Nate said, looking up, his words mangled by his own wrecked voice. ‘Yeah,’ Janusz said, with a tired smile. ‘Yeah, baby. Fuck all the protocol, you can help me.’

[rexc0re]

They’ll always have each other.

A Serenity Fic

A/N: Haiiiii this is the first fic of Serenity :3 You might have already read this on twitter but I write everything on here and the format is better, I just post there cause it always flops here lol (im so sad), BUT!!! It is here now and eventually there will be a master list for this Au <3 Feel free to send asks with questions or comments Abt the au!!! ENJOY!

Warnings: Blood, Injury, Panic attacks, Angst

Fight back.

I can’t.

They need you.

I’m so tired.

Get up.

He’s alive.

Alive, and awake. On the cold hard floor of the mall. The last thing Sneeg remembered was being thrown to the ground and brutally attacked by that wire monster. Now, here he was. Alive. With a barely recognizable mangled leg but, alive.

Get up. He needed to get up. He needed to find his friends. He needed to make sure they were alright. It took forever but, he eventually got up. Shaky legs, blood pooling, but he was up. God it was so painful to stand. But he had to. He needed to go back. He said he would. He promised.

Sneeg limped through the mall. Past the empty stores. Past every exit he saw even with everything in his body telling him to leave he stayed. He had people to stay for. People he needed to fight to get back and get out with him.

He walked past yet another empty store until he heard it. The cries of agony. The sobs of pain. Charlie’s sobs.

“Fuck…oh god it hurts…This fucking sucks….”

“Charlie? Charlie holy shit it’s you you’re alive!”

“Sneeg?? Is it really you? Oh my god it’s you you’re here you’re here oh my god.”

Sneeg stumbled into the room to find Charlie on the ground, his stomach covered in blood. He was badly injured. But he was alive. Sobbing his eyes out at the sight of Sneeg. But alive. Just ike Sneeg. They were alive. And they had each other.

The hug they shared was gentle yet they held such a strong grip on each other. Charlie couldn’t stop crying, neither could Sneeg. It seemed that everything had been taken from them and they were left to rot away in a mall where no one would find them. Yet, here they are. Alive and with each other. Despite everything, they had each other.

—

The box closed.

I’m bleeding out.

I’m bleeding out.

It’s almost over.

Ranboo was in so much pain he could only think about the sweet ending he was soon to receive. It needed to be over. The ache in his hands, the pounding of his head, and the blood. It was icy cold against the skin which held his spasming muscles. They’ve never felt such discomfort.

The darkness was calling his name. Until the light started to drag them back.

—

They’d been stumbling around the mall for what seemed like hours. So many empty rooms, so many endless halls. No Ranboo. Until the red light drew them in. The unforgiving red stained the walls like blood as it shined out of the room from where it was sourced.

Sneeg and Charlie knew something was wrong. To their dismay, they were right. Upon the back wall of that room was..Ranboo. He was tied to the wall his hands secured with wires that dug into their skin. A box, around their head. Blood, pouring down their chest.

Charlie immediately panics and bursts into tears and limps his way towards Ranboo. “Fuck no nonono sneeg HELP ME SNEEG please god no we have to get it open.” Sneeg stands in shock. Charlie keeps rambling in panic before he turns to Sneeg, his face covered in tears. Through his own tears Sneeg steps forward and attempts to open the box as Charlie frees Ranboos hands.

With a few painful tugs and a slew of curses, Sneeg gets the box open.

—

The ringing won’t stop. There’s light? He’s pretty sure it’s light. Are their eyes open? He can’t tell for some reason. Oh no. He’s falling. Someone’s holding onto them. The ringing still hasn’t stopped. He’s pretty sure his eyes are open but he can’t see. Why can’t they see??

Nononono who’s holding onto them. Who’s touching their hands, their face. He needs to get away. They’re going to hurt him. Ranboo begins to fight back. Kicking, hitting, flailing as hard as he can. Every little movement burns. Everything hurts the bloods still flowing the ringing won’t stop. He. Can’t. See. But the tears and need to leave overpower.

“PLEASE NO LET ME GO PLEASE NONONO DONT TOUCH ME”

The hands hold him down. Someone has their arms around his chest and arms hugging him close to their chest. Another has their hands holding down their legs. He’s held still now but still sobbing and begging to be let go. He can’t be put back into these shows he needs to leave. They’re so weak now, their cries coming out quieter.

“Let me go…please. I promise I won’t tell anyone, please let me go.”

The one holding his arms speaks. He recognizes their voice finally as it registers over the prominent ringing in his ear.

“It’s me Ran, it’s Charlie! I got you, I’ve got you. It’s me and Sneeg I promise we’re not gonna hurt you I know ur scared but it’s us kid it’s okay it’s okay i promise.”

Ranboo hiccups, and gently moves his arms underneath Charlie’s to grab at his hand. Their other arm, trembling, reaches for Sneegs. They both let him hold their hands. Ranboo shifts to lay against Charlie listening to his heart beat and feeling Sneegs through his wrist.

“We’ve got you bud. I told you I’d come back. You’re safe. Relax”

Ranboo still felt so much pain. As he laid in Charlie’s arms. Even when they got in that car and he leaned against Sneeg. The pain was still there, along with the ringing and his lack of vision. But there was also something new. Something they hadn’t felt in a while.

Calm and Peace.

His life had been hell the past three days and the three of them had been through so much. They’d lost everything they had. That mall had stripped them down of everything that made them, them and left them with practically nothing.

But it did leave them with one thing; Eachother. They always had eachother. Throughout it all. And it was then that Ranboo realized something new in the back of that beat up old car.

He was always going to have his brothers. Charlie and Sneeg. They were always going to have each other. And with that they were always going to be safe. They brought each other safety, love, and one very important thing.

Serenity.