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almostfancywombat · 10 months ago

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Gossamer-Thin Meridian

It’s January, but the sign outside the airport reads 103. In the pallor of dusk,

expansive windows allow a grand view of the ocean,

of the dingy piss-yellow sky reflecting off its face.

On the frothy coasts of Achiet, waves boil and bubble,

shifting ships

stray sideways

like bath toys.

weeping saltwater tears onto the pier.

The sky is setting, spilling pink and orange carnage. I think of that Italian place

near the hospital. The meatballs there are violently red.

I stand at the curb and raise my hand to the sky.

Lovebugs swarm my arm.

I wait until a rickety old vehicle chugs along to lower it, shedding them.

Fingers curling around the leather handle, I load my luggage into the backseat.

‘Where to?’ comes the cabbie’s gruff voice.

Break is over, so I know

where I must be heading but not why. ‘Scriabin.’

A sympathetic,

pathetic glance passes through the rearview mirror.

Message transmitted. Received.

He slinks into position and dives into the streets.

I throw my head over the back of the leather seats.

Sunlight stains my eyes. His voice scrapes against my eardrums.

Haven’t I already left home?

Questions, criticisms; hearing it from a stranger stings less than family. There isn’t a hint of inter-personality.

I get it.

It’s difficult to cope when your child is throwing 14k a year at a useless degree.

But to a cabbie, this grand travesty is conversation. He doesn’t care. The government gets paid and so does the military, so nobody does.

We, at the Scriabin College of Liberal Arts and Sciences, are revered by none. A tiny, satellite campus that hugs the shoreline.

r e v

g Pluto o around larger state institutions.

n i v l

No one who ends up here deserves better.

Mediocre students go where the money is.

When a college digs into its pockets, students ought to drop to their knees and beg. When I applied, I was almost denied, but I begged.

Iasked questions no one could answer. Where am I going where have I been?

They didn’t know, so I was referred to an admissions counselor,

who referred the registrar. The registrar referred a professor.

I went to his office and waited half an hour, only for a frazzled TA to rush in.

Speaking like shoes racing over marbles, he said the professor had been dead

for thirteen days. No one knew he was dead,

died on a research trip in the Andes.

I almost had career counseling with that dead guy.

Maybe it would’ve been a helpful discussion so I’d know

how not to wind up like him.

Because I’m a follower.

I hate Achiet, I have the grand desire to get away,

to leave more permanently than winter from the peninsula.

Scriabin is not optimal for anything,

yet it only exists in dramatic contrasts.

Everyone has to take cars everywhere but parking passes and insurance are too expensive to buy. Carbon monoxide poisoning and pollution are at all-time highs yet only the people who walk die. Drivers drive drunk.

Everyone is either fresh-blooded and shrieking war calls

or thirteen years into their first semester. Some are both and neither.

Some homeless guys set up a camp in the steam tunnels beneath the school.

Nobody cares besides the kids who drive past them in BMWs.

The rest, we’re nobody.

We don’t care;

they piss less and do substantially fewer drugs than the BMW Bros

Less disruptive, too, so there’s no need to wage war

against anything. Nothing ever contests this artificial peace.

I hop out on an identical slice of the shore.

Below sea level, Scriabin sits upon mossy sands.

Today is the first day after the winter holiday.

Classes are in session yet it seems that the campus is mine. Save for my rusted pick-up truck with flaky blue paint on the sides, the parking lot is e m p t y.

I walk the stretch of asphalt, suitcase huffing behind.

Its wheels squeak and groan with every long stride.

My trek to the dorms is solitary. The path opens with three walkways.

Each is lined with palm trees and withered plants.

There’s a welcome arch to get past, then the Student Center, an ugly modern building that was built in the ‘70s.

The pond is the only saving grace, then the space pours into swatches of overgrown grass and haphazardly placed buildings. There are several, just enough to house the meager thousand-student population.

On the piece of the beach owned by the school, there’s the I-Station, reserved for rich international students and visiting professors.

For the common student, accommodations are far less accommodating. Lined with creepers and cracks, the dorms look like reed-mouthed flytraps.

One blocky, bulky, red-chalky unit near the duck pond pulses with a faint green light. Occupying every window, the light ebbs through the windows like waves.

Accompanying the strange drone, like a piano to its violin is a gentle, stringed percussion, there is a plucking noise.

The sound of something straining and tearing resounds.

Then a final piercing screech rings out, and it begins its macabre song all over again. I don’t realize the buzzard ditty has me glued to the spot until I feel flies crawling around my ears.

The building is nothing strange.

It must be one of those Fine Arts or Engineering Department freaks—

majoring in performance arts, learning to embody the chaos or to become its proponent.

These people eat bowls of treble clefs and bolts,

let manuscripts and soundbeams

wind through their ventricles and hearts.

Music is pretty and so are designs, but who does that?

Devote their life to the intangible?

The only worse masochists are the Pre-Meds.

At least they have realistic aspirations;

anyone can become a great doctor, but not anyone can

become Tan or Paganini or Bilbao.

Most creative-thinkers won’t even become footnotes in their respective field.

Perhaps, they’ll be chronicled in separate books, referenced in larger works,

but a life in academia is one of parasitism.

Weird dorms aside, there is a culture of dormancy at Scriabin.

There isn’t much of a nightlife when most of the town depends on tourists.

The city:

has the air of a retirement village if the residents were pumped full of steroids.

is where old people come to boil and the tourists come to fry.

is where everyone is in bed before the bingo hall closes.

If you’re quiet when you pass by an alley,

you’ll hear someone puking.

With my suitcase dragging behind,

I file into the Common Hall.

This place is poorly and unfashionably designed.

The rugs are repurposed from an arcade that closed during Arcade Heyday.

The general architecture looks like it was stolen from a retro-futurism concept board.

Before I brave a hike up several sets of stairs, I stop by the mailroom. It looks like a wall of honeycombs.

The room next to mine is empty while its mailbox is filled.

As usual, I find their letters encroaching on my box. They swamp the room.

No one else is here, but if they were, they wouldn’t mind, so I don’t.

College is conformity;

going against the mold means life doesn’t get any better.

Often, I think that boy must miss his mom.

A bunch of teal envelopes and coupons to fast food chains are in his hoard.

I snag one of each from atop the pile.

If he’s gone, he doesn’t need food or heartfelt notes.

A million posters loiter on the bulletin board.

It chronicles the past better than a Joseon historian or casual Mormon.

Every day, a notice is added for yesterday.

I just missed a free screening of some avant-garde French film. The poster doesn’t feature the ubiquitous Floating Head arrangement.

No, this is a Quirky Film;

its design is compiled with geometric shapes and other elements of Bauhaus.

Besides it is another flier. With an unsightly font,

it shares how the resident kook of an author held another publishing party

for a record turnout of seventeen.

Authors—who needs them? I’ve never read a book that stuck with me.

I stare at the signboard. Yesterdays upon yesterdays. Days lost to time.

This building’s elevator doesn’t work anymore. I miss my elevator buddy.

I drag my suitcase up several tedious flights of stairs,

then have to do it all over again one more time because I climb too high.

Recalling numbers is impossible.

Each hall:

is the same expanse of ugly carpet and beige walls

is a Soviet shoebox of an apartment, but not even those damn Commies faced as much radiation.

These dorms have issues.

Totally unfit for residency.

There was even mercury poisoning at some point.

When you shower and when you drink from the tap,

the water never doesn’t taste like lead.

A blur flies past me down the stairs.

Someone without breath, someone faceless. The darkness on their face must be their eye bags. The blur mutters about tourists with immense disdain.

Miserable students are all alike;

each student is unhappy in their own way.

No one likes having them around, but those pricing-us-out vagrants are why we have minimum wage jobs that help put us through college with hefty loans.

For now, I work at a local store.

My roommate interns in Information Systems somewhere.

Or so I hear. I don’t know what that is or who my roommate is. Maybe I saw a glimpse during orientation. Maybe not. I don’t recall anyone else being there.

I venture down an identical hall.

I stop before a door that is only distinguishable from the others because I draw on the little whiteboard hanging outside.

Halting, I erase the weeks-old doodle with my sleeve and replace it. A grotesque face with a ghastly expression, giraffe-like neck, and spindly body replace the old.

Cap between my teeth,

I slide the marker in, skimming my lip.

I attach it to the board and kick the door open.

Decisively,

unpacking is tomorrow’s chore.

I toss the suitcase inside, retrieve my bag

then trudge back down the stairs and head back to the first floor.

When I emerge, it takes a while, but I keep blinking and blinking,

then they’re all there. People, loads of them;

in the building

worming across the grass

slinking across and hissing like snakes before they slither over sand into sea.

There isn’t Greek Life or anything interesting, but Scriabin

has the Quad Gods, who perch by the welcome gates like unsightly gargoyles.

They’re all athletic in some way.

One does track. One does CrossFit.

The third does semi-competitive figure skating.

I wonder where he finds the time to skate and where he first found a rink.

They’re all fairly attractive.

They are all spindly and look like they don’t have waists.

With excessive handsomeness and vanity,

one of them ought to be the god of something,

but there’s a bunch of fanatic old people here.

Deities shouldn’t be spoken of so casually.

To most, the only god that exists is the only one you won’t ever see.

I don’t know if anyone has ever seen these guys away from their spot,

so in a way, one of them might be a god.

They’re always perching by the entrance gates, covered in dust like they haven’t and won’t move for years and years and years.

Now that I look, I realize I don’t even know their names.

I know them, but how?

Do they even go to school here? Who knows? Who cares?

Outliers significantly affect statistical values;

they’re why Scriabin has such a terrible reputation with sexual assault cases—

among students, they shoulder the blame.

If you don’t look, they won’t pounce.

With better things to do, I keep my head down.

Staring at them won’t go to the lecture that will explain the homework that will help me prepare for the test that will ensure I get a good grade at College-ing so I’ll have a job that will pay for a little picket fence in the suburbs someday.

The Faculty of Psychology is halfway across campus, right in front of the duck pond. Its glass facade reflects against the disturbed water. Jets keep it churning so the fish occupying it won’t die. Benches line the perimeter.

Perfect for my kind of student;

besides Architecture, Psyche students are most prone to tears;

being aware of your emotions, the sentience of grass,

believing that people should be skinned with life-long labels,

that not confining them to a box

means a life condemned to misery does mess with the nerves.

Brain Science is more neurosis than neurology

a neurologist can recite physiology and stimuli, but a psychiatrist is a mystic.

I enter the building. It’s like an anthill in there,

people lugging heavy bags around, rushing upstairs, across every hall.

They all look like they’re running, but no one goes anywhere.

Instead, they circle and circle. They’re all moving so fast, almost like a time-lapse.

I keep my head down and ascend to the second floor.

The elevator here works but I don’t even go near it

because it’s cursed and you need a buddy if you want to use it.

When I reach the lecture hall,

I find that it’s empty.

Peeking inside, I check the schedule. Displeased with the results, I check it again.

I already took Psych 101 last semester. Maybe I failed.

Damn American higher education. It wants to drain everybody of everything.

If anyone had told me it would be so difficult to stay in college,

I wouldn’t have got in.

Maybe if not, I’d be learning how to weld,

or embalm bodies somewhere in the Midwest,

or I’d be a goat farmer in Uzbekistan.

Maybe my class is supposed to be in the library today.

It’s Monday. Those are Independent Study Days.

Hear:

when the professor doesn’t feel like coming to class, so we all trudge to the library to make the most of the day while we’re still inspired.

Every day feels like Monday, but I never feel like going to the library.

Too many geeks and nerds typing

click-clack on computers instead of writing notes.

Too many annoying people with millions of highlighters and washi tape.

Too many revolutionary ideas to steal.

I concentrate on child psychology because their minds are difficult to understand

and I don’t want to understand anyone who might be like me.

As a minor, I take Spanish.

Still don’t speak a word of it.

I listen to videos that are meant to teach me Arabic but it’s useless in America

unless you want to go somewhere and work in intelligence

or read the best, most soul-searing poetry.

Before leaving, I step inside.

The lecture hall rises in a spiral; slats of windows line the ceiling,

Stale-aired and tasting of salt.

I look at the chalkboard,

AstroTurf Green marred by white.

I run my fingers against it.

Chalk peels away and disintegrates in lukewarm hands.

When my stained fingers rise to meet the board again,

I discover a message I hadn’t seen before.

“HOW DO YOU FLOAT?” in thick, large letters.

As if swiped away by an unseen hand, they smear.

A carving on the board becomes clear, but I’m busy viewing the torrent threatening to consume the words.

Swirling around it are mutterings and psych-ward doodles,

the kind of things you might draw on a stall in a public bathroom.

At the center is a figure composed of haphazard lines.

Outlines, something lacking shape.

With a dull hum, the projector flickers to life.

Faint outlines appear on the board in puffs of chalk smoke. Nails screech across the surface. Watery hands rake along it, desperate to find purchase.

The hurricane abates. The figure stills, staring ahead.

Before it solidifies, I drop my bag onto the floor and scamper out of the building.

a/n: i hope i can go far, far away for college. i need distance. i need to be able to focus on myself.

0 notes

wangxianficfinder · 3 years ago

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I’m in the Mood for a Fic Where…

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1. hello~ do you have A) any fics about the ways wwx possibly changed parts of his personality as a result of his tense situation when he first came to lotus pier? like this isn't really canon per se, but some fics mention how he took on a more troublemaking persona to take the fall for his and jc's games etc... or, do you have B) fics where someone (jfm sure didn't) stands up to yzy and doesn't let her fucking whip a (newly not homeless) orphan?

1A)

Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 240k, wangxian, heavy angst, fluff, eventual happy ending, implied/referenced rape/non-con, misunderstandings, self-harm, self-hatred, family fluff, mental breakdown, cannibalism, reincarnation, WIP)

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2. Any super fluffy happy light hearted chicken soup for the soul non stressful funny uplifting fics, that also have a focus on plot? Preferably not suuuuper long, but any length is okay. Thank you for all your hard work mods and fellow readers!

💖 of rabbits and men by shoutowo (G, 11k, wangxian, post-canon, animal transformation, fluff & humor, getting together, Mojo’s post)

💖 From the Future for the Past by friedchickenlord (G, 27k, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, fluff & humor, happy ending, denial, pining, bullying ur younger self is in fact ok)

❤️Candy & Conspiracies by cl410 (T, 16k, wangxian, jin wwx, Mojo’s post)

💖 Bunnies and Boots by Cheonz (G, 6k, wangxian, memory loss, does this count as deaging?, crack, fluff, family feels)

💖 an impromptu visit to the city by bosbie (T, 13k, wangxian, canon divergence, modern, time travel, fluff & humor, falling in love, getting together)

💖 don't come near me by lancede (G, 1k, wangxian, no angst, crack & fluff)

💖 What Happens In The Teahouse, Stays In The Teahouse by PotterheadAvengerDemigod & theAbandoned_Grimoire (G, 2k, pre-wangxian, fluff & crack, sunshot campaign, voice acting)

💖 Dimples by bodhan (G, 2k, wangxian, fluff & humor, sibling bonding)

💖 blue-ribbon bunny by cicer (G, 15k, wangxian, modern, shapeshifting, supernatural elements, fluff & humor)

💖 ridiculous future bullshit series by sami (T, 47k, wangxian, modern era, immmortality, fluff & humor)

💖 Lan Xichen's Day Off by WeAllCatchFoxes (G, 3k, wangxian, fluff & humor, fix-it, getting together)

💖 Nice work if you can get it by deliciousblizzardshark (M, 11k, wangxian, protective LWJ, genius LWJ, post-canon, fluff & humor, getting together, chief cultivato LWJ)

💖 All According to Plan by cerbykerby (M, 2k, wangxian, fluff & humor, arranged marriage, fox WWX, dragon LWJ)

💖 Fanclubs do, in fact, save lives series by greenies_stuff (T, 6k, wangxian, fix-it, fluff & humor, LWJ the president of YLLZ FanClub, premarital h*nd h*lding)

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji being bros series by JiangChengLotus (T, 99k, wangxian, JC&LWJ, JC/LXC, chaos)

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3. hello! are there any fics that discuss the fact that wwx most likely broke all his bones from falling into the burial mounds. I know the la and donghua have resentful energy sort of catching him, but I'm interested in fics where he actually falls and uses resentful energy to knit himself back together, or where his bones healed wrong and he is in pain bc of it.

💖 Twelve Moons and a Fortnight series by stiltonbasket (M, wangxian, 478k, Mojo’s post) ❤️ three surgeries and a mercy kill by MarbleGlove (T, 11k, medical procedures, fix-it, Mojo’s bookmark) decay by antebunny (G, 16k, wangxian, canon divergence, angst w/ happy ending, misunderstandings, miscommunication, fix-it, hurt/comfort) in the crush of the dark by seularen (E, 5k, wangxian, body horror, dismemberment, chronic pain, post-canon, flashbacks, hurt/comfort, case fic, angst w/ happy ending)

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4. Hii mod L , hope you're fine and great **I am well even if my feet are trying to kill me thanks to work :’) Mod L**....it is my first ask I don't know about this very much ..but I am craving for wangxian fanfictions recently. so I want you to suggest me some great fanfiction according to you ... it would be great if I can get to see whipped wuxian

💖 spider lilies to sunflowers by cicer (E, 33k, wangxian, ABO, YL WWX, fairy tale elements, mpreg, omega LWJ, lwj topping from the bottom) and other cicer’s works!

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5. Im really in the mood for madam yu to gradually come to accept wei wuxian into her family

❤️ Hope series by RoseThorne (T, 49k, wangxian, time travel, my bookmark)

An Almost Lan by shinigami2174 (M, 42k, wangxian, LQR/YZY, slow burn, romance, angst, fluff & smut, not JFM friendly, good parents YZY & LQR, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, WIP)

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6. hello!! hope that you are doing well <3 I was wondering if you had any fics that were historical AU but like ideally regency/victorian. I just feel like wangxian would have really good pride and prejudice vibes lol. thanks!!

(our friendship) up against the ropes by daltoneering (E, 36k, wangxian, modern, friends to lovers, getting together, experienced LWJ, fluff & smut) this is a modern au with a GENEROUS helping of 2005 pride + prejudice references bc i havent read the regency/victorian au fics just yet but was reminded of it

Detective Wei Wuxian series by krazieLeylines (E, 133k, wangxian, major character death, historical, 19th century, gothic, murder mystery, supernatural elements, pining, slow burn, angst w/ happy ending)

Half Agony, Half Hope by queenklu (T, 105k, wangxian, Persuasion au, pining, broken engagement, not YZY or JFM friendly, secrets, espionage, child injury)

The Aristocrat and The Fallen Exorcist by midohana & Starkindler123 (T, 44k, wangxian, victorian au, supernatural elements WIP)

An Accurate (Anachronic) Jianghu Christmas Carol by Mikkeneko (T, 7k, background wangxian, crack, Dickens era)

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7. Hello! I was wondering if you knew of any fics where WWX’s cultivation is shown like a chronic illness? Or any where he suffers with a chronic illness? I’m in need of LWJ taking care of his man T_T thank you so much in advance!

❤️ to arrive late is better than not to arrive at all by Moominmammashandbag (M, 35k, wangxian, angst w/ happy ending, soulmates, chronic illness, hanahaki disease as a curse, feelings realization, angst, fluff, smut)

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8. Hello, for your next in the mood for, may i ask for fics focused on wangxian fics that can give me some second hand embarrassment. Not the type of cringy fics or smth, just where they are portrayed hilariously I'd get embarrassed and want to poke or hit them in head.

The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones (E, 77k, wangxian, fluff & crack, no sunshot au, first times, accidental sex, porn w/ plot, happy ending)

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9. plz plz is there a story like this? i think it would be so fun to read! @xiaokuer-schmetterling

❤️ Lynchpin by ShanaStoryteller (not rated (I’d say T), 103k, JC & WWX, wangxian, time travel, fix-it, Mojo’s post)

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10. Hello! For “I’m in a mood for…” do you know of any good body swap Wangxian fics?

voyeurs make the worst spies by BeStillMySlashyHeart (T, 1k, wangxian, outsider POV, reunions, body swap)

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11. Hello wangxianficfinder! Hope you're having a good day! I would like to ask if there are any other fics like "Bodyguard king" by 74243 about lesbian d/s wangxian wherein they had established a nonsexual 24/7 dom/sub relationship? Before or after a romantic relationship? @kaitou-cure-prism12

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12. Hello, I have been searching fics where wwx is jealous but alas couldn't find a lot. Can you please suggest some where wwx is jealous for lwj?

A Half Truth is A Whole Lie by MilkyLane96 (E, 12k, wangxian, love confessions, misunderstandings, feelings, marriage proposal, jealous WWX, WIP)

The man from the future by SerlinaBlack (T, 3k, wangxian, time travel, crack treated seriously, jealous WWX)

Four Parts Honey and One Part Vinegar by masked (T, 13k, wangxian, post-canon, 5+1, Mojo’s post)

💖 Hanguang-jun’s Husband by lilacevergarden (alittlemorecreative) (T, 6k, wangxian, time travel, bullying ur younger versions, jealous wwx)

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13. do you have any fics where someone is obsessed/in love w lan zhan and lwj genuinely doesn’t even notice/care because he is so in love with wei ying. thanks!!! <3

Criteria by incendir (T, 10k, wangxian, 4+1)

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14. Hello! Idk if this has already been asked before, but I'm in the mood for immortal wangxian (both or either one is okay), so will you help me find some? Thank you very much.

不忘 | Don't Forget by dragongirlG (E, 50k, wangxian, time travel, reincarnation, fix-it of sorts, social media, identity porn, reunion, pining, angst w/ happy ending, modern era, artist WWX)

We Were Never Strangers by NeverEnoughWangxian (M, 36k, wangxian, reincarnation, modern w/ cultivation, college student WWX, rogue cultivator WWX, immortal LWJ, immortal LSZ, dreams, pining, getting together, happy ending)

💖 so you’ve been robbed by a museum by yukla (M, 6k, wangxian, modern, pining, getting together, immortal wangxian, Mojo’s post)

💖 Persistence of Memory by Admiranda (M, 41k, wangxian, post-canon, past character death, reincarnation, immortal WWX, immortal LSZ, coming of age)

💖 "It's Heating Up in the Cold Springs of Gusu Lan! You Won't Believe This Artwork Really Exists!" by Admiranda (M, 5k, wangxian, present day, immortal wangxian)

💖 The World We Made by updatebug (T, 80k, wangxian, the old guard au, immortal LWJ, modern au, angst w/ happy ending)

💖 Wandering Souls, Wild Ghosts by belleweather (E, 49k, wangxian, immortal wangxian, post-canon, victorian era, case fic, check all the tags)

💖love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, immortal WWX, slow burn, pining, arranged marriage, Mojo’s post)

💖 the recluse at the end of the moonlit path by b_ofdale (T, 29k, wangxian, modern, reincarnation, immortal LWJ, light angst, reunions)

💖 I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian, post-canon, immortal LWJ, memory loss, hurt/comfort, curses, reunions, reincarnation, angst w/ happy ending)

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15. Hi! Love the blog and all the fics you share! I've found so many new ones and rediscovered some older ones that still bring me joy :) Do you know any fics where lwj falls for his friend's (jyl's) younger brother (wwx), or where wwx falls for his friend's (lxc's) younger brother (lwj)? TIA :D

💖 love on 35mm by fakeplasticlily (M, 26k, wangxian, modern au, college/university au, pining, LWJ is BFFs with JYL)

Brotherly Intentions by panicking (Not rated, 33k, wangxian, LXC/JC, modern, coffee shop au, teacher WWX, LWJ falls for his bro’s BF’s bro)

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16. Hi! I hope everyone is fine! Thanks for all the hard work <3 <3 I was wondering if for the next in the mood for may I ask for A) single parent!wwx? Or just wwx with sizhui goodness <3 and B) any fic with OP!wwx please <3 thank you and I hope you have an awesome day

16A)

The storm comes and goes (and I keep walking) by Naamah_Beherit (M, 41k, canon divergence, found family, blood & injury, canonical character death, identity reveal, no romance, Mojo’s post here)

estuaries by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 34k, wangxian, modern, break up/make up, pining while fucking, single dad, angst w/ happy ending)

Floriography by ms_134340 (T, 15k, wangxian, flower shop au, teacher WWX, single dad WWX, sick character, flower language, fluff, romance)

And They Were Quarantined series by thunderwear (E, 49k, 3 works (complete), wangxian, 3zun)

River Eyes by AgentFreeWill (G, 5k, wangxian, single dad WWX, dragonji, pre-slash, curses)

A Knight in Shining Armor by thievinghippo (G, 6k, wangxian, single dad WWX, fluff, meet-cute)

feel it so strong (we don’t even have to say goodbye) by bee_knife (DisasterBiAlert) (E, 6k, wangxian, modern, strangers to lovers, love at first sight, single dad WWX, fluff & smut, happy ending)

diagnosis: you're in love by monsshi (G, 4k, wangxian, modern, hospital au, romance, fluff, getting together, humor, meet-cute)

Professor Lan, Babysitter Extraordinaire by Eleanor_Fenyx (G, 4k, wangxian, fluff, single parent WWX, professor LWJ, mature student WWX)

Going Home At Last by Mollshka (CaptainAmelia22) (G, 3k, wangxian, fluff & angst, happy ending, neighbor)

Xian-gege and A-Yuan series by HeloSoph (M, 17k, WWX & LSZ, wangxian, post-first siege of BM, not cultivation world friendly, not JC & NMJ & JGS & LQR friendly, golden core fix-it, truth revealed, petty LWJ, hopeful ending)

16B)

The storm comes and goes (and I keep walking) by Naamah_Beherit (Mojo’s post here)

💖 Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist (M, 51k, wangxian, canon divergence, WWX survives, sect leader WWX, yiling wei sect au, slow burn, angst w/ happy ending, getting together, pining, love confessions, reunions, mind all the tags)

~*~

17. Hii 😣 Can someone help me find these fics ?

I can't find the fics where WWX and Juniors go on Night hunts and WWX gets injured pretty bad, mixed with reconciliation with Jin Ling and JC, they're likes post canon but when I use post canom tag I can't find any of them. Completed ones with some.angst and happy endings where it has WWX, Juniors, LWJ, and/or JC and Jin Ling reconciliation,.family, healing. (I hope someone made a collection or would make a collection of these fics so they are easier to find.)

I knows there's a lot and I've read quite a few and yet I can't find any of the ones I'm looking for and can't remember there titles sob

Example, like there's a fic where the Juniors and WWX are on Night hunt and they meet a demon and need back up, WWX gets very injured, and JL Sees his past memories while the rest are trying to save them.🥺 please help me find them.

Like ones LWJ and WWX Night hunt fics where WWX nearly dies, mixed part of/ or Night hunt fics with Juniors and WWX or both WWX and LWJ similar to that, as well as JL and JC, with reconciliation fics for those three. (Like post canon stuff, even though it's possibly not tagged that way since I can't find it with the tag) And like one example above. 😣 I'm sad I'm struggling to find them all. Please 🙏@love-yiling-laozu

Don't let go by Moonlit_dewdrops (G, 7k, JC & WWX, wangxian, hurt/comfort, hurt WWX, angst w/ happy ending)

before you stumble by ribena (currently unavailable) ( yunmeng bros reconciliation, wwx bonding w juniors on a night hunt, getting hurt/injured )

Build me no shrines by occultings (M, 54k, wangxian, case fic, night hunting w/ juniors, WWX & JC reconciliation)

~*~

18. hello!! I have a weird itch I want to scratch but do you know of any fics where it’s emphasized how lan sizhui/a yuan is the sect heir of gusu lan? thanks!! <3

promissory notes series by kakikaeru (T, 57k, LSZ/LJY, wangxian, JL/OZZ, canon typical violence, post-canon)

...Until We Get It Right by Setari (G, 5k, 2nd in series and it’s recommended to read the first fic first, 5+1, kid fic, next generation, family feels)

Mending the Pieces by JustAWanderingBabbit (G, 98k, 3zun, post-canon, reincarnation) a third-generation fic in which the 3Zun have reincarnated together into a commoner village; LSZ is Sect Leader by then.

~*~

19. I was hoping I could ask for some JadesYing/Xichen/Wangji/Wuxian fics, preferably with Jadecest but it doesn't have to be. Also hoping for some fics recs that are on tumblr and/or Twitter or something because I have read a lot from AO3 but I would still take recs from AO3, I just was hoping for more recs from other sites too! I like happy endings mostly and bottom Wei Ying. Thanks 🥰

Grey Eyes to Kill a Ghost. by JaenysBloodcourt (M, 3k, LWJ/WWX/LXC, no incest, threesome, post-canon, angst w/ happy ending)

The Lan brothers and Wei Ying make porn series by Foregone_Shadow (E, 76k, LWJ/WWX/LXC, modern, porn au, incest, threesome, past rape/non-con, mind all the tags in all the works!)

wwx gets railed series by Anonymous (E, 12k, LWJ/WWX/LXC, PWP, mind all the tags)

给我再去相信的勇气 // the courage to believe by howodd5ever (E, 55k, LWJ/WWX/LXC, threesome, incest, dual cultivation, burial mounds settlement days, dub-con, undernegotiated kink, angst, check all the tags)

take this weight of mine by soliloqui (E, 85k, LWJ/WWX/LXC, post-canon, seclusion, depression, dissociation, PTSD, panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, self-harm, dual cultivation, incest, hurt/comfort, smut, angst w/ happy ending)

Embers by xantissa (E, 38k, LWJ/WWX/LXC, angst, fluff, falling in love, sex curse, dub con, hurt/comfort, grief, sibling incest, happy ending)

~*~

20. Hello, I am in the mood for a fic that is not Jiang friendly and shows wwx getting the help he needs after the abuse from madame yu.

💖 in payment, a hand series by justdoityoufucker (M, 10k, wangxian, not jiang friendly, amputation, injury recovery, self reflection, abusive YZY, families of choice)

💖rain falls and soaks into the earth by RoseThorne (T, 37k, wangxian, no war au, near death, hurt WWX, psychological trauma, depression, justice, fear, angst, attempted murder, recovery, mind all the tags, series in progress)

the peaceful old broad river by Sienne (Not rated, 11k, WQ & WWX & WN, hinted wangxian, WQ pov, time travel, found family, family feels, no golden core transfer)

~*~

If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmemeand MDZS KINK MEMEon Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order! ***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder

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jupiterswlrd · 4 years ago

Text

Spectacular- mark lee

mark never intended on getting bit by a spider on his was home in the subway, he also never intended on saving you from falling in front of the moving train car either. it was all just some sort of sick coincidence. mark had never believed in super powers, yeah what he saw on TV and comics book was cool but it was never realistic. ‘someone just can’t magically change over night’ he thought to himself all the time.

that was, until it happened to him. after his little run in with you he went home and took a nap, shook up a bit on how well his grip on your jacket was, almost like his hands were stuck to you. ‘crazy...’ he chuckled drifting off to sleep. when he woke up his found his upper part of he bunk covered in spider webs.

“ew” he said quietly trying not to wake his roommate haechan up. ‘maybe if hyuck would be a cleaner we wouldn’t have this issue’ mark struggled to sit up something making him stick to his bed. he flopped all around his bed, webs confining his arms to the bed. he finally broke one and somehow tripped off of his bunk. he prepared for his body to hit the ground but something caught him. a string of webs wrapped around his ankle and attached the top bunk. he was confused, but he was mostly relieved. “mark?....” haechan opened his eyes wondering why he saw his roommate dangling from what seemed to be the ceiling. with that the web snapped causing mark to fall on his head.

“dude...” haechan observed mark like he was some foreign species. “did you do that?” he pointed to the the webs covering marks bunk. “n-no!?!?” mark looked at the younger boy like he was out of his mind “do i look like a spider to you?” haechan stared at him for a long minute. “...there’s a fucking web growing out of your wrist right now....”

“HUH?” mark flung his hand somewhere, flinching in a way. haechan grunted loudly his head banging aganist the wall. his body was taped to the wall with one big web. “MARK” he yelled in amazement and extreme pain and discomfort. “I promise i didn’t do that....” mark didn’t know what to do with his hands, he stuck them in the pockets of his shorts fearing himself and what he’d do. haechan eventually broke free, examining the web pattern closely. He had a thing for spiders.

“this is completely unique...your webs have a little M in them. we should take to these y/n, you know shes a science freak” mark completely shut down at the thought of you seeing him shoot webs out of hands. what if you thought he was some kind of freak? “THATS NOT AN OPTIO-“ then you walked into their dorm room, unannounced and unwarranted. “i heard my name from outside the hallway, why are you all so l—“ you were confused to see that mark was no where to be found. “uhhh?? i thought i heard marks voice”

“you di—“ haechan did a double take “oh haha, yeah we were on the phone he’s in the bathroom— he got stuck in the toilet”

haechan shoved you out the room nervously. “yeah so y/n, we’ll see you in class okay?” once you were successfully pushed out the room, mark was sitting with his legs crossed his head in his hands. “bro what the fuck was that?” haechan slammed the door and locked it. “what was what?”

“i don’t know your little disappearing ac— YOU CAN TURN INVISIBLE”

“haechan are you on drugs? you have to be on drugs only people with POWERS can do that and that’s not possible be—“

haechan clamped a hand over marks mouth.

“dude you’ve done the impossible for like 2 hours now, you have powers” the younger boy slid on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. “where are you going?” mark asked laying back down. “you mean where are WE going” he threw marks slides at his head.

“we’re gonna go see what you can do.”

mark and haechan went out to a abandoned parking lot. haechan was good at making something out of nothing figuratively and quite literally. “okay mark pick up that big ass tire over there” mark walked over to it, absentmindedly picking it up “this one?”

haechan pulled a clipboard out his backpack “okay superstrength...check”

after many trials and errors. mark and donghyuck found out that he was very agile, very fast, and very sticky. mark couldn’t go 3 seconds with out sticking to something.

as mark and haechan were walking back to the dorms, mark heard something his ears turned up as he looked around. “do you hear that?” mark pulled his hoodie up and walked a bit faster. “no what do you hear? is everything oka—“ mark took off running in the opposite direction past the parking lot, leaving his backpack and a confused Lee Donghyuck behind him.

mark turned the corner the feeling that was rushing through his body, it was more than adrenaline it was like an itch that so desperately needed to be scratched. he had to find out what that noise was. he found himself in the subway again. the same place his was now 24 hours ago. his head was now spinning the same place he was bitten now stinging more than ever.

his balance was off and his body felt weak. mark blinked harshly, the itch slowly fading away. but everything was fading away he slipped into darkness, passing out on the grimy new york subway floor.

“mark” a familiar voice called out to him. “yes y/n?” he responded, a swirl of neon colors surrounded him, his skin was no longer slightly tan it was neon red with some swirls of blue. he was still in the subway but it was empty. dead silent his own thoughts, and spiders the only things in the station. you were in the form a beautiful pink tarantula crawling all over marks body.

“you know what you have to do right?”

“what do i have to do?”

“save new york” you brushed against his cheek lovingly “save our friends, save me, and most of all” you had somehow reappeared in front of him crawling down from her own line of webs. “save yourself.”

“how do i do that?”

“22nd street my love”

mark heard that laugh he always loved to hear, then a sharp pain in his arm again.

“FUCK” he yelled when he woke up, surprised to see that it wasn’t the “pink tarantula” that hit him, but an IV going into the underside of his wrist.

“calm down mr.lee it’s okay, you had quite a scare there” a nurse rubbed his forehead “anything i can get you? some water? some juice you had a pretty bad panic attack there”

mark sighed

‘how am i supposed to save new york with anxiety?’

☀︎☂︎☀︎☂︎

“hyuck” mark said as they walked home from the hospital. “yeah?” he responded taking one of his headphones out his ear. “have you ever been to 22nd street?” haechan shrugged “yeah i’ve been by there, it’s nothing but some apartments...why?”

“i think we have to go there”

that piqued haechan interest, not in a good way though. “you’re not tired i mean...i know you have super stamina but you just had such a bad anxiety attack you passed out” he blinked “i don’t see how you’re not exhausted, fuck— even IM exhausted” mark shrugged and walked in the other direction in hopes to catch a bus, “you coming?”

“so am i like your agent or something” haechan said smacking on the lunchable from his backpack loudly, so loud that mark couldn’t even hear himself think. between the homeless people, the bucket drum line, haechan obnoxious chewing, mark couldn’t hear himself think. “OKAY JUST SHUT UP” he snapped, all attention on him. “oh— uh not you guys i—“ mark quickly became flustered looking at haechan for some help. “OH— uhhh, my friend here has a disorder. sorry about that” haechan rubbed mark on the back, watching as heads turned back to what the were doing. “thank god” mark sighed in relief as they reached their stop. “i feel something...” the same ringing in his ears was back, becoming quieter as he walked in different directions dragging haechan in zigzags along with him

finally, mark and haechan arrived at their “destination”. all it appeared to be was just a regular apartment building. “what the fuck?” mark huffed slamming his fists aganist the wall, accidentally triggering something.

the small alley way they were in between revealed a door, the two boys looked at each other in pure amazement as they jumped through. “what is this?” mark said in awe staring down the walls. “don’t touch anything” an older man said swatting his hand away “you’re the new guy?” he looked mark up and down “the standards must be in hell”

“hi nice to meet you too!” mark sarcastically said. “i didn’t ask.” the man simply replied. “follow me though.” the boys did as they were told. “i believe that we were all put on this earth for one reason, to wreck havoc and help when havoc wrecks things” the older man laughed at his own terrible joke. “that’s why some people their genetic code is different, they’re products of some very expensive experiments, and my favorite” he chuckled “wrong place right time”

“so where do i fall?” mark wondered out loud. “the third one sweetheart” the older man bent down into a mini fridge and got out something to drink. “so basically what i’m saying kid.” he slurped it loudly in marks ears “help when havoc wrecks, whenever it does”with the snap of fingers, haechan and mark were back home and mark was dressed in a red and blue spandax suit. a black spider embroidered on the chest. “bro? you look—“ mark raised a brow, thinking he was still in his regular clothes. “you look like an actual superhero!” haechan danced around the room. “i do?” he stepped infront of the mirror “oh— I DO”

“what should i call myself. tarantula boy?—no too weird spider boy? no too immature”

“spider-man” haechan suggested

“spider-man...” mark said to himself in the mirror.

“i guess i’m spider man...”

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landofspaceandrainbows · 2 years ago

Text

The Most Important Character in the Dream SMP

lol

~~~

In general Mexican Dream is interesting because he’s able to disrupt / get one over on Dream / comfort Tommy really well. Weirdly well. Mainly by 2 strategies. 1 by taking Dream’s trolling and going one over and above on him, also by re-contextualizing his shit to call him on his bullcrap. aka Dream taking stuff as a Mugger. 2. as an avatar of someone (aka someone MEXICAN) who's been thrust out of his own country, who is alone and who nobody will speak to, or if they do it's not in your language, who faces harassment, and who people shove handouts at out of PITY (sound familiar yet, Tommy?) who better than... that for soliarity?

Anyway, here’s my timestamped breakdown of the “Mexican Dream visits Tommy in Exile” VOD

mostly for my reference

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6lhr1KlIVQI

~~~

4:05 - action starts! MD will show up in 2-3 minutes. 8:15 - "this isn't home, this ain't mexico man, don't worry we'll make this place like home" 8:50 - "this is way beyond the Dream SMP" - acknowleging that something's not right. 9:00 - Mexican Dream starting out with the big fucking guns here! Re-contexts what Dream has Tommy do as "mugging" ! Which, having someone give you all your stuff because they're threatening your life is. But Dream calls it as an act of a "friend" (the fuck) or a careful prison guard. 10:00 - Tommy laughing! M D pulls Dream into his comedy sketch as the "Straight Man". More mugging shit. "You're not looking too good" Also, the fucking burrito. funny! 11:45 - Re-contexting again! Dream and Tommy have this whole tangled thing Dream gets into with everything Dream or anyone else gives Tommy is "out of pity" according to Dream. But he has to accept it or have nothing. M D yells at Dream for giving him unsolicited "Handouts" ! xD see also the "pity tents" later. 12:30 - "Are you homeless???" from Tommy. Solidarity both ways man! 12:50 - spanish cursing scene incoming! Not really quite relevant to these themes, but i think it's funny. Though it could show momentarily - M D is stronger than Dream. and stronger in Dream's domain - Words. What the F. (also yes, Dream, it is a "curse" because he's cursing you out, lolol.) 13:50 - first showing up of the "private parts" joke. 14:00 - re-framing Dream as Tommy's "Dad"/"Padre" kinda like the "mugging" thing, makes Dream's power look "off" and "ridiculous", or off and unbecoming or wrong. 14:42 - "borderline my owner" = "Dad" (also more handouts) 14:55 - "He's mugging me man." Dream ushed into clear "mugger" behavior" the mask is clear. M D also defeats that with dance and music. 15:30 - Minor thing, but noting because drugs show up a lot "I can get you some drugs" (and man, do you need them lol.) 16:10 - "Your dad's not buying you clothes, man, that's fucked up" Making Dream look bad. If he wants to act like he has legit power and can take stuff away, he has to provide stuff. he can't have it both ways. 16:35 - "I've been living in a tent my entire fuckin life, give me some good shit!" does that apply to M D or Tommy? solidarity. 15:59 - Girl Dream appearance !!!!!!!!!! Girl Dream appears !!!!!!!!! Interesting how M D can summon out of Dream someone who's interested mostly in s*x and friendly to Tommy. And is strong and saves M D. 19:00 - Private parts again lol. 19:45 - "I smash my bros" lol 21:25 - appearance of "the family" / "the homies" 25:20 - "Why are children watching" thing lol. (for my own reference) 34:00 - bonding over homies that have screwed you over / that you miss (tubbo and juan mendez) warning annoying and loud sound. 37:05 - more drugz lol 39:45 - reverse engineering where a burrito comes from from a pic, lol LOL 41:10 - M D gets pissed at dig about "walls" 41:50 - c r a f t i n g t a b l e 46:45 - Tommy is confident. Dream returns. The fight between M D and Dream gets physical. M D starts losing lives, taking a bullet for his homies and starting from there. 48:48 - "How does he have so much beef?" idk, Dream, idk why he would possibly have beef with you. :p 53:35 - f for Mexican Dream ( 3 canon lives, f ) ( Mexican music continues to appear ghostly afterwards)

#long post #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt #mexican dream #girl dream #dream #c!deam #tommyinnit #hope #in the homestuck element sense #homestuck

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michals · 3 years ago

Note

Klaus and Luther during the time the latter is in a coma so he's kinda a semi ghost maybe?

Congrats, you get the long one!

When Luther opens his eyes it takes a moment for him to realize something’s off. Something’s…wrong. The last thing he remembers is an explosion and an intense, burning pain all over and then suddenly just, nothing. He recognizes the ceiling above him, he’s in the infirmary. So he had been hurt, but he feels fine now. Fine enough even to sit up, swing his legs over the side of the bed and get to his feet.

Only he doesn’t, he can’t have because he’s looking down at himself still on the table, asleep. That’s definitely wrong. There’s a strange prickling in the back of his mind, a thought that can’t break through the wall of cotton wool in his head. What he does register is that the him on the table’s beard is too shaggy and his hair at least an inch longer than it should be. He never lets himself go like this, he needs to ask mom for a haircut.

His skin’s different too. There’s patches of scarring across his chest, shoulders, all the way down his torso and up his neck but the texture’s not right, and it looks almost gray. And his muscles don’t really look like that do they? They look too bulky, deformed somehow.

He looks down at his hands, his hands, not this sleeping version’s. They’re too large, too blunt, too strange. He thinks he should be concerned; maybe behind the wall of wool there’s a spark of panic trying to catch but it just…doesn’t. Maybe dad’s around, he’ll know what’s happening.

The house is dark as he walks the halls, the clock in the foyer tells him it’s nearly 3 A.M. So dad’s asleep, Luther shouldn’t bother him. And mom and Pogo are sleeping too. It’s fine, he’s not worried. He doesn’t think he’s worried.

He stands in the foyer, in the spill of light from the streetlamps through the windows, when he feels a strange sensation in his chest. It’s as if something’s pulling him, not roughly but firm, like there’s a rope around his heart. It doesn’t hurt, just feels odd, but it’s the strongest thing he’s felt since he woke up. It wants him to do to the door. He’s not sure why he goes, he just knows he should. When he reaches up to turn the doorknob his hand phases through it.

Oh. That’s wrong.

The rope gives a tug, he steps through the door.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, just follows the lead, putting one foot in front of the other. He’s barefoot. He hadn’t noticed that. The ground’s wet but he doesn’t feel it. He knows that because of his powers he doesn’t get cold or hot like normal people, but he should be able to feel puddles. Concern scratches distantly at the edge of his mind, sharper now. It’ll make sense when he gets where’s he’s going, won’t it?

The streets are mostly empty, only occasionally does he pass someone waiting for a bus, a man sweeping the sidewalk, a couple of homeless people sleeping in doorways. No one notices him.

He’s got to be pretty far from the house by now. He doesn’t know the city but the pull’s getting stronger; he’s close to wherever it is he needs to be. It leads him around the corner of an alleyway, a dim lightbulb burning over a backdoor to a convenience store where a figure stands hunched over, trying to light a cigarette.

“Fucking useless thing,’” the man mutters, trying to hold the lighter still with shaking hands.

The rope drops away, a knot untied. Luther knows him.

“Klaus?”

Klaus looks up, peers at Luther from behind the greasy curls in front of his face, then turns back to the uncooperative lighter. “Sorry man, don’t have anything for you, last five bucks went to this pack.”

Luther takes a couple steps closer, hesitant. He hasn’t seen Klaus in at least…5 years? Has it been 5 years? “Klaus, what’s going on?”

Klaus looks up again, irritation on his face until he pauses and actually gets a good look at him. “Luther? That you?” Luther just nods. Klaus barks out a laugh that echoes in the alleyway.

“What in the hell are you doing here?! Didn’t figure this for your kind of scene, if I’d known you were coming I’d have cleaned up a bit.” He giggles again, high and giddy. Luther takes another step into the light and Klaus squints at him, rubs his own chin. “Looking a little scraggly there though bro.”

Luther reaches up to touch his beard. He’s surprised he can actually feel the scratchy texture of it.

“Lose your shirt too? And your shoes?” Klaus asks, then teasingly, “Aah! Have you been gambling Luther Hargreeves? What would daddy say?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Luther says. “Something else happened. I think.”

Klaus flicks the lighter again. Finally it catches and he gives a little cheer of triumph as he lights his cigarette. When he turns Luther’s way again, face now lit by the glow of the cigarette, Luther can see how his eyes are glassy, pupils wide.

“You weren’t, like, looking for me were you?” Klaus asks.

No, Luther wasn’t. Actually: “No, you were calling for me.” Because he realizes now that’s what it was, what was leading him here.

Klaus’s face scrunches in confusion. “Huh? No, don’t think I was.” He points this thumb towards the door that goes to the store, “They don’t let me use the phone in there anymore and besides, I don’t have two nickels to rub together.” He turns out the pockets on his ragged jacket to prove it.

“No, it wasn’t like that. Something pulled me, it was you-” Luther shakes his head again, wishes he could clear it of the haze inside. It’s not as bad as when he woke up, if only he could break through it, if that spark could just burn away the wool…

Klaus stills, his eyes go wide and skin paler than it already is. He holds out shaking hands. “No. No, hold on, wait. Luther – fuck – Luther what was this thing? This-this thing, the something else happening thing?”

“There was an accident,” Luther says and there’s a faint sensation of stinging across his chest, a vague memory of shocking pain. “An explosion-”

“No,” Klaus slouches like his strings have been cut, “Oh fuck no. Come on! Not you too! This is-” He clenches his hands in his hair. “This is bullshit! You can’t be…you can’t be dead too!”

Wait, no, that’s not right- “I’m not dead,” Luther says. “I- I’m pretty sure I’m not.” How can he not know?

Klaus looks at him with narrowed, cautious eyes, takes a step forward and holds a hand out in front of him. He doesn’t touch Luther, stops just a few inches away but the fear and panic washes off his face, replaced with confusion again.

“You’re not,” he says. And with that Luther knows he isn’t either. A sudden certainty.

“You’re not like the others,” Klaus continues, “I can just…tell. Also usually when I’m this far gone I can’t even see-” he stops, eyes darting around the alleyway. He shakes himself. He gestures to Luther’s chest, “What is this by the way?”

Luther looks down at his chest, at the off-color, coarse skin. “I don’t actually know.” A spike of concern, finally. Each second that passes he feels like his mind’s coming back to him.

Klaus sighs heavily, scrubs his hands across his face. “So you’re like, visiting? Or some out of body shit. Or this is a very weird trip I’m having. You came because I called for you?”

“Yeah, it was like,” Luther pauses, “like you reached out for me.” It had felt nice, actually; he woke up so confused but the pull had felt so secure.

Klaus pauses, the cigarette slowly turning to ash between his fingers. “You know, actually- come here.” He tilts his head and gives Luther a wave indicating for him to follow.

Klaus’s boots splash in the puddles pooling in the holes in the asphalt, Luther walks through them and doesn’t even create a ripple. Klaus stops at the mouth of the alleyway, points across the street.

A yellow and orange sign announces the modest little diner sitting there as ‘Griddy’s’. Luther hadn’t even realized he’d made it this far through town.

“I saw that,” Klaus says, leaning against the wall of the building, “got hit with a whole bunch of memories.”

And so does Luther now. Images of him and his siblings crowded around a box of doughnuts at a cheap laminate table, arguing over who got the last one, making up stories to the waitress about their uniforms and why they were out so late. He can even hear the chiming of the bell on the door clear as anything.

“And the one I thought of most,” Klaus says, watching Luther from the corner of his eye, “is after that fight with the Murder Magician that I fucked up. Remember? Almost got shot?”

Luther remembers. Klaus had missed his cue in the plan, a henchman got the drop on him. But Luther’d gotten there quick enough, knocked the guy across the room, but he’d rode a wave of adrenaline and dread for the rest of the night at the thought of Klaus being shot.

Klaus continues, “And dad laid into me as soon as we got home. He was so pissed.” Klaus puts on a mock Reginald accent, “He said ‘what do you have to say for yourself?’ But before I could say anything you said…‘I’ll try harder next time’.”

“Because I should have,” Luther says without even thinking, just like back then, “I didn’t explain the plan well enough, I was supposed to make sure you knew what you were supposed to do.”

Klaus tilts his head against the wall, something breaking through the mist in his eyes. “You threw him off so bad, he didn’t know what to say. So he just sent us to bed without dinner. In all the years that was the only night that it was your idea to go to Griddy’s.”

Klaus had walked next to Luther the whole way there and back, made sure Luther got first pick when the box came to the table.

A low roll of thunder comes from far off, heralding the first few drops of rain. In moments it becomes a steady drizzle. Klaus pulls his jacket up over his head, looks around for any kind of cover, makes a dash for an awning up the block. Luther follows slowly, still can’t process the fact that he can’t feel anything, the rain falling right through him.

Klaus stumbles as he hits the stoop of the building, flails unsteadily on his feet before catching himself. His head wavers dizzily. Luther almost reaches out but knows he won’t be able to help.

“Why that memory?” he asks.

Klaus gives a half-hearted laugh, waves his hand flippantly. “Oh ya know, no real reason. Not like I’m bothered when some shrink calls me ‘hopeless’ anymore.”

The rain gets stronger, louder. Luther doesn’t know what to say.

“Same old same old. Guess he got sick of me. When they kicked me out of the rehab he said, ‘what do you have to say for yourself?’” Klaus finally looks at Luther, “Then I came across Griddy’s. Guess it made me wish you were there.”

The haze in Luther’s head is turning into static now, not enough to choke his emotions anymore. When Klaus says that a stab of emotion shoots through clear and sharp. It’s something like regret. Regret that he hadn’tbeen there, but of course he couldn’t have been.

“How’d it happen?” Klaus asks, “the accident?”

Luther takes a harsh breath in, but his body tells him he doesn’t actually need to. When he speaks he’s surprised to his hear his voice is rough, “It was a mission. Chemical factory, a vat exploded. I didn’t move out of the way in time.”

Klaus’s brow furrows. “A mission? You still go on those?”

“Of course. I’m still in the Academy.” He is the Academy.

Klaus opens his mouth but stops, he sways on his feet again. After a second he comes back. “By yourself?”

Luther just nods. He looks out into the street, at the convenience store, at Griddy’s, at the way the rain hits the tops of parked cars. His mind is settling, like the rain’s washing away the rest of the static. He feels far away from the him back in the infirmary, asleep on the medical table. He rubs his thumb over his knobby knuckles, thinks again that something’s wrong.

“Well maybe next time I’ll tag along,” Klaus says, “Dad’ll let me, right?”

He absolutely wouldn’t and asking would go horribly, but still Luther feels himself smile.

Klaus sees this and grins wide, “Tell you what! We’ll do the same thing: I’ll distract the vat of acid and you take it out.”

That makes them both laugh, but Klaus’s is high and manic and he throws himself so off balance he falls back hard on the concrete stoop. Luther drops to a crouch next to him, concern replacing amusement.

It takes a minute for Klaus to settle, for his eyes to refocus. The smile he gives is loopy but there’s guilt in it. “Lu, I have to be honest with you. Just before you showed up I, eh, took something, and it’s starting to kick in. I’m probably gonna lose you here soon.”

Oh. Luther nods. He looks back out into the rain. Wishes he could walk out and feel it. He’s never stood in the rain on the street.

“Hey, hey,” Klaus says, pulling his attention back, “how about I call you for real? Like on the phone, not in my weird ghost-y way.”

Luther doesn’t know why his heart constricts so suddenly and painfully. He’d like that. A lot. “Tomorrow?”

Klaus nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, tomorrow. Dad never answers the phone anyway, mom or Pogo will definitely let me say hi.”

“Okay, yeah, tomorrow,” Luther says. His voice is shaking. Why’s his voice shaking? Why’s he so scared all of a sudden?

Klaus’s eyes are glassy again, his cheeks are red, he smiles weakly but he’s already getting further away. “Alright Lu.”

For a second the world seems to stop, Luther sees blue light at the edge of his vision.

Grace works quickly to administer the antibiotics into Luther’s IV, checking the line and the intravenous fluids. She’d noticed his blood pressure drop earlier, took care to take some tests. When they came back there was too little oxygen and too much acid in his blood. Sepsis, no doubt from the nastiest wound on the left side of his chest. She’d caught it just in time and she reassures herself that he’ll be alright, and besides the serum Reginald gave him will surely heal that completely soon. Luther doesn’t wake up tomorrow, or for four more months.

Klaus passes out on the stoop, gets woken up at dawn by an angry tenant shoving him to the ground. He’s just barely cognizant enough to find his way to a shelter down the street. Someone else shoves him into a bed. He wakes up hours and hours later to Ben berating him. He’s been on a bender, he hasn’t seen Ben in days. Klaus rolls his eyes at him, almost says something that’s on the tip of his tongue, but whatever it is he can’t grasp it.

It was a weird dream right? A weird trip? He’d been talking to someone he couldn’t possibly have been talking to, whoever it was. And there’s something he’s supposed to do. It might have been important. It bothers him for the rest of the day but he never remembers.

Neither of them ever remembers.

#the umbrella academy #tua fic #umbrella academy fic #luther hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #and the angsty one too #'long' but really it's 2600 #which is long for what was supposed to be a drabble #this was a cool prompt i hope i did it justice!#haven't forgotten the other ones in my inbox either! or the meta ask!#hope i have time this weekend to get to those #this has been fun #my fic

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megastarstriker · 4 years ago

Text

✯𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓂𝒶𝓈 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒴𝑜𝓊✯

✮*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✧*˚　 ˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮

NIKKI SIXX X READER

˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮ ˚*✧˚*•̩̩͙✧•̩̩͙*˚✮

Requested:

Contains: FLUFF

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Nikki Sixx x Female Reader

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩:

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @metalheartofgold, @ginny-rose-sixx, @xxqueencolourxx, @littlemisscare-all,

💕MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! LOVE YOU GUYS AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANNA GET TAGGED TOO💕

Keys:

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(D/N) - Daughter’s Name

============================

“Dada.....”, The little 3 year old baby girl that I held in my arms babbled as she looked at her father over my shoulder with her cute curious eyes who was already walking towards me with a small smile on his face, looking at the small child as he looked at her excited (E/C) eyes with his warm hazel ones.

“I’m here, sweetie....”, He murmured softly as he kissed the girl sweetly on the forehead making her giggle and coo happily at her father,” Good morning.”

“Good morning,...Nik...”, I said as I leaned into Nikki’s touch as he wrapped his arm with security and warmth around me and the little bundle of joy that was right next to us.

“Morning, beautiful.....”, He whispered in my ear kissing my forehead and then my cheek, only then to plant his warm and slightly chapped lips unto mine. The kiss was short but despite that it had a burning taste of passion in it that I couldn’t describe but either way... I loved it.

The embrace was then interrupted by a small barking sound from the floor, as I felt a tug on my nightgown. I then departed my eyes from Nikki to see two small set of brown eyes looking at me energetically as the small pup wagged its tail with joy as he looked at the baby with wonderment.

“And you too, bud....”, He said with a laugh as he picked up the dog from the ground, making the dog yap at him and his tail wag with speed. I giggled at how cute the two of them were as I then looked at (D/N) tiny form as she leaned gently into my shoulder giggling at the pup that was in Nikki’s hands.

---------------------------------

‘Buddy was new to the family once (D/N) was born. It wasn’t just an early Christmas present but it was also something that Nikki and I talked about when she was born. I thought about what it would be like if we did have a pet and if it would be nice that our daughter got to play with it. Nikki of course agreed same going for me as we both had our fair share of love for animals especially dogs. And he couldn’t say not to his newborn daughter too. We wanted to buy and get a pup especially for her, but I then heard about an option for adopting one from one of my closest friends. I overhead from her that these pups were homeless or abandoned and needed homes, as well as it would be an amazing idea to have one. It wouldn’t just be a good decision but rather an amazing way to spread awareness about these animals who need love and attention. Thinking about that made me think of Nikki and his past. It always left me thinking that Nikki deserved better. A better family to have raised him, a better childhood, and a better life. Nikki of course was happy now and would always remind me that I was always there for him and that things have changed now because of me and the people that supported him aka the crue as well as other people and to not worry about the things that happened to him in the past, because he already has his two most greatest things: His Band and His Family. But those exact same thoughts made me wonder.

“Those animals deserve the exact same thing.

Love, attention, and a Family.”

Not Hatred, Loneliness, and Abandonment.

Just Like Nikki needed it and has it now.

As I rethought the decision in my mind, I smiled as I then went and talked it over with Nikki about adopting a pet. He of course was shocked to see me talk about my reasons for it especially since he was mainly the reason for it. Of course after finishing he gave me a strong embrace and a kiss, and accepted on a adoption for a pet. Afterwards, He told me that I had such a heart of gold and teased me about it for the rest of the day......

---------------------------------------------------------

‘Ughh’, I thought in my head as I groaned at Nikki’s teasing remarks that day, as I saw him play with ‘Buddy’, as well as (D/N) joining him in the floor of the living room. ‘What a dork.’ I smiled with a blush as I looked at them as I went to the kitchen to start on breakfast, as a few moments later my two devilish angels a.k.a Nikki and (D/N) decided on wanting to join in and help me with it.

But at least he’s my dork.

8 hours later

“Mommy.”, (D/N) asked me as she tugged on my party dress I picked out for the dinner party looking at me with cute baby doll eyes.

“Yes sweetie”, I said softly as I picked her up gently looking at her as I awaited for her response.

“When are my aunties and uncles going to come.”, She said her eyes a bit sad as she looked down, as she already had her clothes ready for the Christmas dinner party we were holding at our place.

“Oh, honey...”, I started to say my heart breaking at her expression she gave me, “Your aunts and uncles will come....Even some of the kids too so you can all play....There are just running a bit late....But don’t worry....Okay.”

“Really?”, She said as she had hopeful eyes gleaming, rubbing her eyes.

“Yeah, princess.”, Nikki said as he appeared next to me, wearing his formal wear, looking as handsome as always, taking (D/N) in his arms and hugged her, “Everything will be ok.”

Then as soon as he said that a door ringing was hear from the front door.

“Speaking of the devil.”, I muttered jokingly to Nikki as he chuckled rolling his eyes a bit playfully as he patted my shoulder as he gently put (D/N) on the floor next to Buddy who was now wagging his tail in excitement.

“I’ll get it.”, He told me as he went over to the door opening to reveal...

You guessed it.

The breathing, living, and rocking crue....

Standing at our door...

My Parents , my friends along with their husbands and daughters , and.....

My brother!

Looking at him standing there I was shocked.

“Surprise!”, He said as he had his arms out ready to hug me and a huge smile on his face.

“(B/N)!”, I said with wide eyes open as I hugged him tightly a happy smile reaching its way on my face, deep down believing this was all a dream.

“ In the flesh.”, He said with a chuckle as he broke free from the heartwarming embrace.

“But- How.....”, I asked him still amazed at him standing here in front of me, “I thought you couldn’t come because of your job.”

“Well..., let’s just say a little someone gave me a nice talk through the phone and told me to come here and meet you as a surprise.”, He said as he looked at me trailing off a bit.

“When I mean a ‘little someone’ I mean Nikki.”, He then said as he gestured towards him who was busy welcoming Tommy, Vince, and Mick, “And when I mean a nice talk, I mean he was going to beat and murder my ass if I didn’t come here.”

“Oh no....”, I said as I felt a bit guilty thinking that he came here because of Nikki’s threat., “Didn’t Nikki really force you to come here-”

“No no no, He didn’t....”, He said as he understood what I was trying to say, “I mean a bit but, no. Don’t blame him for anything though, I only came here because of you and about what Nikki said when he called me up.”

“What did he say?”, I asked him as I quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, He told me about how much you missed having me visit for the holidays and well that he wanted to change that by bringing me here....”, He started to say as he stood in front of me, “.......And then he told me about how you were incredibly special to him and lovey dovey stuff as he liked to put it.”

I gasped hearing this..

Did Nikki really just..?...

“But that’s all I can say for now......”, He finished as he then gave a smile, “Other than that I am happy to see you and mom and dad again here together. I know I haven’t been the best bro for not coming for the holidays, but I guess I feel happy now that I’m here. Huh? Now that I’m thinking about it, I feel like with Nikki being around with you its a miracle for him.... He really cares about you, I can tell......”

Still a bit taken aback by all of this information, I saw as I small girl and a woman came walking beside my brother.

“Oh yeah, I didn’t came here alone of course.”, He said as she then said a small ‘hello’, sending me a welcoming smile holding her daughter in her arms.

“I guess I already told you about them in a few occasions over the phone, but this is my wife Donna, and this little munchkin over here is my daughter Annie.”, He introduced as they both said hi, Donna shaking my hand as she said it was nice to meet me, her daughter giving me a shy wave as to say hello to me.

“Its Nice to meet you too,” I said with a warm welcome as I told them to go ahead and make themselves comfortable at home.

I then said hello to my parents and my friends who brought over their husbands and daughters...

And of course couldn’t forget about the jolly ol’ crue....

“Hey Tommy, Vince!”, I greeted as I then walked over to them both as they enveloped me in a warm friendly hug.

They both said hello to me before releasing me from the hug, I was about to greet Mick only to find he wasn’t there.

“Where’s Mick?”, I asked as I tried looking for him around where I stood.

“Mick is with Nikki in the kitchen talking about something... code word ‘ private’....”, Tommy said as he held out the quotation marks in the air whispering the word to me.

“And He doesn’t want us in on listening to their small chat, thinking we are gonna gossip about it to the fellas around here......so yeah here we are.... trying but also not trying to ‘eavesdrop’ on them.....”, Vince continued as he rolled his eyes a bit.

I giggled at them both as I shook my head, “Well good luck with that. ”

After a couple of minutes of introduction with everyone including Mick who came out with Nikki after their so called ‘private conversation’ , we all went to the dining room, Me and Nikki being the last ones as he looked to me.

“So your brother came.”, Nikki commented as he stood beside me.

“Yeah, I noticed.” I said as I tried to play along with his game although already knowing it was his idea all along for him to come here,” I’m really happy he came.”

“Um, I sort of called him to come here. I know how much he means to you as family.”, Nikki said nervously as he looked at me coughing a bit.

Damn it why did he have to be so cute!

“So yeah....”, He said with a chuckle ,” I’m gonna go and head over-”

I cut off his sentence with a warm kiss as I gripped his coat.

He was shocked but slowly kissed me back.

I then pulled away with a sigh.

“I know you called him over and why. He told me everything”, I said with a smile as I noticed him look a bit surprised to hear me say this.

“What you did was really sweet and the best gift I could have from you, I love you.”, I said as I hugged him tightly, not wanting to ever let go from him.

Before long he hugged me back, saying those same words.

“I love you too, Merry Christmas baby.....”

------------------------------------------------------------

{AUTHORS NOTE}:

Hey Guys and Merry Christmas to everyone who is reading this or not!!!!

Hope you guys have an amazing holiday whether it is with your family or friends or whoever you celebrate and however you do it!!

🖤I HOPE ANYONE THAT’S READING LIKED IT AS WEll AND LOVE YOU.🖤

IF ANY ONE WANTS TO ASK ME FOR SOMETHING TO WRITE WITH THE MEMBERS OF MOTLEY CRUE OR THE DIRT VERSION OF IT. HERE’S THE LIST FOR ANYONE THAT WANTS TO REQUEST SOMETHING FROM ME.

{ REQUEST LIST }

💗{LIKE OR REBLOG TO SAVE}💗

#nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx #motley crue #motley crue fanfic #motley crue oneshot #nikki sixx x reader oneshot

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sparkles-and-trash · 4 years ago

Text

South Park Main 5, Headcanons Masterpost ~

Stan Marsh

Looks:

hair is actually nice and somewhat floppy naturally, but because he wears a hat most of the time, it’s usually flat and a little greasy kshdhsd

hair is that blue-ish black color

eyes is piercing ice blue

skin is light, kind porcelain like, but he also tans really fast?

soft sweaters are the only thing he’ll wear from early autumn to late spring

in summer he’ll literally only wear band shirts and flannels lol

Personality and General Trivia:

totally cares more for animals than most people let’s be real

sometimes he struggles with seeing things from others point of view and ha can come across as a little self centered

he is aware of it tho and tries to be better at it

his instagram is filled with Sparky haha

let’s Sparky sleep in his bed every single night even tho Sharon tells him not to

likes reading and writing, has a tiny obsession with dark themes and Lovecraftian stuff

he and Kenny volunteers at the local pet shelter and homeless shelter together

the pet shelter was Stan’s idea, and the homeless shelter was Kenny’s

wants to be edgy but is really just very soft

“Kyle said...”

believes everything Kyle tells him lol

enjoys video games a lot, prefers single player, story based ones tho

also still enjoys boardgames a lot, and when the big group isn’t up for hit, he, Tweek, Jimmy, Butters and Cartman groups together to nerd it out

has clinical depression, but is managing it with help of a therapist, his mom and friends

sometimes things gets pretty dark, but he is getting better at reaching out and asking for help in those times

Friendships:

like I mentioned above, he struggles a bit with seeing things for other’s point of view

but he is aware of his flaws and is trying to be better

can get a little bit caught up in his own drama, but listens when his friends tells him he needs to get over himself

will always stand up for his friends, especially if they’re not there to do it themselves

when he starts getting closer with Butters in early high school he gets really upset when he realizes how much he gets shit-talked

enjoys spending time with his friends individually, probably the most of the group, and takes initiative to do so a lot

which is very important to Kenny, since he tends to feel a little overlooked sometimes, and it makes their friendship really strong

same with Butters, except Butters doesn’t usually doesn’t mind mainly being in a group, but the first few times and Stan hangs out alone it’s obvious he really appreciates it

Family:

daddy issues

sorry I don’t make the rules lol

has a decent relationship with Sharon tho

she’s a good mom

and he wants to be a good son

Shelly is still kinda angry and scary

she keeps the “only I can beat you up bro” attitude and there is secretly mutual respect there

but we don’t talk about that!!!

Ships and relationships:

okay so my main ships for him are stutters (Butters), stenny (Kenny) and Style (Kyle)

my fav is stutters tho

I usually head canon him as bi or pan, but as with everyone in SP, I’m open to different interpretations if different Au’s and stories!

I just really like the idea of them learning to balance facing their issues AND celebrate the good things in life together

I def think he can be a bit insecure in relationships, struggling with feeling like he’s not enough, and would need a partner that naturally will be affirming and positive

that’s not to say he’s super needy or clingy, he’s just a bit insecure

but I really think he would truly be a good partner

he’s caring, kind and very appreciative

which is again why I really like him with Butters offh

Kenny McCormick

Looks:

sandy blonde hair that’s always messy and floppy/softly curled

teeth is kind of crooked due to lack of funds for braces

his front teeth are kinda big and has a significant gap

lots and lots of freckles man

all over his face, shoulders, back, hands and arms

tans fast

I actually really like him with brown eyes? like, soulful deep brown eyes

but also very, very clear blue ones, like almost unnatural (yes that’s a mysterious thing)

medium tall

wears his hoodies, usually with the hood up, no matter if it’s freezing or a heatwave

not conventionally attractive, but charming looking lol

likes to wear some eyeliner every now and then

and nail polish, but it’s like super clumsily put on and always chipped

Personality and General Trivia:

falls asleep in class a lot, but always seems to know the answer if the teacher asks him something

also has decent grades

I think he’s way smarter than he gives himself credit for, both socially and school wise

the therapist of the groups

actually, the therapist of the whole school

knows a lot of secrets due to this, but he always, ALWAYS keeps them

I see him as very friendly and approachable, but terribly hard to get close with

lots and lots of walls, man

very much an observer type?

quietly stays in the background if that’s an option

but if he is talked too, or feels like he has something to really contribute to in a conversation he’ll jump in and be comfortable talking and taking up space if he is with friends or people he knows

if not, he’ll just stay in the background with that.... look on his face that just makes you know he knows more than he says

works at Tweek’s parents coffee shop, is kinda close with Tweek because of this

zones out a lot

“…what?”

can fall asleep anywhere

Friendships:

is pretty close friends with Butters!

Butters used to have a little crush on him, but Kenny didn’t find out until years later lol

he also has a lot of patience with Cartman compared to the others

which is why Cartman actually cares when Kenny sets him in his place

likes learning new things, and does that with Kyle a lot!

both school and homework stuff, and things like cooking and other homey stuff, the two of them really bond with this

him and Stan volunteer together, and I already mentioned, and that time means a lot to Kenny

since he works with Tweek, the two of them are pretty close and good friends

is the one of the main boys who gets along the best with Craig and those guys

actually hangs out with them from time to time, so does Butters

it low-key drives the others crazy

Family:

I often like to think his parents would keep having these bursts where they try to get their shit together?

and it’s slow, and one step back and two backwards, but the fact that they’re trying at all means a lot to the kids after years of them... not

I can also see Kevin stepping up and taking more charge, Kevin get’s way too little love in this fandom!

Kenny usually never fights with his sibs

but when he does it’s with Karen, usually because he’s worried about her and it’s nor pretty

none of them can stay mad at each other for long tho

Kevin trying to be all “big brother” and kinda failing because he is chaotic, but he really wants to do right and Karen and Kenny knows that and appreciates it

Ships and relationships:

ohhh kay here we go, unpopular opinions ahead!

first, my main Kenny ships are Tokenny (Token x Kenny) and Stenny

rn Tokenny is my main, I love the potential dynamics, both with their personalties and backgrounds and families

I tend to head canon him as pan or bisexual, and demiromatic

I know the demiromantic part is... controversial, at best

but hear me out!

I see him being very comfortable with discussing sexual stuff, and being attracted to someone physically is never something he feels awkward or bad about

but when it comes to more emotional connections, he is way more awkward and fumbling

for those who doesn’t know, a demiromatic person (like myself! surprise!) won’t have crushes or romantic feelings for someone they don’t already have some form of emotional bond with! We can still feel sexual attraction tho, and some of us are comfortable with casual sexual encounters (like me!) and others are not, and both are very valid!

I usually have two ways of writing him

either him being comfortable having casual sexual interactions, but struggling with the romantic aspect and having to figure out how this works for him

him having some trauma related to debating sexually very early, thinking he was all ready and it was just sex, but getting his emotions caught up in it and being very heartbroken and confused, and therefore having issues with being intimate with people for a while

I mix them up depending on the story, but the first one is usually my go-to!

Kyle Broflovski

Looks:

he still covers his hair a lot, either with hats or hoods?

because I really see him being insecure about it

it’s a medium sort of red, and like, really curly and fluffy

not frizzy, big like... big

I usually give him green eyes, but I also could see him with a light brown or hazel!

some light freckles on his face that only really shows up if he’s spent time in the sun

pretty tall, kind of lanky

d i m p l e s

Personality and General Trivia:

big nerd energy

in every way, board games, video games, loves school, like genuinely, enjoys studying for tests, loves fantasy books, the longer and more complicated the better

co-captain of the debate team with Wendy

is good with arguments unless he gets too passionate on the subject, or if someone knows his weak points and uses them to tick him off

it’s usually Cartman

his mom wants him to go to an Ivy League but honestly he just wants to go to the same one in Denver as Stan, Butters and Cartman are planning on, and now that Kenny is also considering it he seriously think he’ll die if all his friends go to the same college without him

he struggles with FOMO, which is kind of an issue since he’s a busy guy, and some of his friends are not lol

if any one of these kids become a jock, it’s def Kyle with his basketball change my mind-

but not like, a letterman wearing fuckboy type of jock, but like, is obsessed with his sport and his team and works really hard to do well type of jock

Friendships:

very loyal

he and Stan walks Sparky together at least twice a week, just to be sure they’re always caught up with each other even when they’re busy with school, sports and dating

yeah they’re still super best friends

when they started high school he got closer to Wendy as she’s also on the debate team, in all of his AP classes and they share a lot of the same interests

they’re still good friends, but nothing more

the first time Cartman got really drunk was at a party freshman year, and at the time everyone was pretty fed up with him, and he ended up crying and Kyle found him, and Cartman thinks Kyle doesn’t remember, but he does

that was the first night Kyle really kinda understood why Cartman was the way he was, and even though he still thinks he’s a dick at times, he tries to remember everyone have a story, and to give people time

but he often gets too riled up to remember that lol

good pals with Jimmy, they share a lot of interests in fantasy stuff and have the same humor

he also start to go along well with Craig when they are around middle school age, but they’re both kinda too stubborn to admit they’re friends until a year later lol

Family:

even tho Sheila is pretty overbearing and can be too much, he is a mommy’s boy deep down

tense relationship with his dad

enjoys cooking, so that’s where he spends a lot of time with his mom!

tries his best to keep up with Ike and his life

sometimes he is a tad cringy when doing so, but Ike appreciates the gesture

Ike is pretty confident and strong in himself so he doesn’t care if Kyle is a bit awkward lol

the type of brothers who genuinely enjoys spending time together

Ships and relationships:

I like Style, Kyman, K2 and Kyvid!

I think he’d be a late bloomer when it comes to love and dating

struggles with opening up and letting himself feel these things

I often think of him as biromantic asexual, but I’m not always set on it!

he’d enjoy traditional dinner and a movie type of dates a lot, such a nerd

Eric Cartman

Looks:

keeps his hair cut pretty short and styled

has heterochromia iridium (different colored eyes), one blue and one brown

also he has a real nice smile when it’s a genuine one

which is rare but like

it happens

is kinda insecure about his weight and tries to compensate with always having the newest stuff and pretending not to care

sometimes tries to diet in secret

he isn’t huge anymore, but is still sort of broad, and isn’t skinny, but like..

kinda bulky, if he wears the right type of clothes it’s hard to see if he’s chubby or buff

but he is def chubby

Personality and General Trivia:

spends way to much time on reddit arguing with randoms

angry gamer, will call you a slur on voice chat

after almost getting dropped by his friends in middle school he tries a little harder to be a more decent person

still an asshole at heart, but like, an asshole who sometimes cares about some people

always tells people that’s he’s seen that meme before, even when he hasn’t

nothing is ever his fault and the only ones who can get him to admit he’s wrong are Kenny and, very, very rarely, Kyle

he wears supreme hoodies for a full year of High School and stands in line all night for the new ones and never shuts up about how he is the first in South Park to have the new stuff

Kenny finds it hilarious to buy the fake supreme stickers and put then on his own worn out hoodies

Kyle makes it his main goal in life to put things (everything from used gym socks to old food he finds in his locker) in Cartmans hoods and see how long it takes for him to notice

can’t handle alcohol, is constantly being teased for it

sloppy drunk lol

one of the main reasons the other bothers with Cartman trough middle school, when he is at his worst, is because of his big basement, the old Coon Lair, who got a big renovation around 7th grade and is an awesome, private hangout spot with a big TV and wifi and gaming systems

Friendships:

constantly says he hates his friends but would die if everyone left him

is secretly terribly jealous of Kyle, both his closeness to Stan, his basketball skills, his grades and his family

but they had that thing in Freshman year when Kyle found him drunk, alone and sad, and Cartman himself barely remembers it, and doesn’t think Kyle does because he never mentioned it

but he does

so much tension there, but also co-dependency

sees Kenny and Butters as his best friends, and knows deep down neither of them feel that way about him and it secretly kills him

is in the same board game group with Stan

is low-key terrified of Tweek lol

Family:

big mommy issues

but also very protective of her

I really enjoy the AU/headcanon that Liane marries Clyde’s dad

it’s not like, the only version I like, but I put it in as many au’s and works of mine as I can

I def think both boys would be mortified right away

but Clyde comes around first, because he really wants a brother, even if that brother have to be Cartman

Cartman would never admit it, but after some time he really starts to see Clyde as a brother and genuinely cares for him

Ships and relationships:

I mainly see Cartman as gay

sometimes I start of AU’s and stories with him not being out to himself or anyone else tho, I think that whole journey for him will be very interesting and help him grow as a person

I def think he’d have a few girlfriends before he comes out tho?

he can be very charming when he wants too yanno

my only Cartman ship is kyman atm, but I’m def open to explore more of

Leopold Butters Stotch

Looks:

I really really really like T A L L Butters???

like tall and gangly and adorable

I know it’s very popular to head canon that he bleaches his hair, but I like to think he has very light blond air naturally!

keeps it short on the sides and longer on top, with cute ass curls

soft sky blue eyes

also dyes his bangs light blue in high school!!

Pete the goth helps him because he is a pro of dying bangs

I like to think he’d be into pastel grunge, and keep his love for Hello Kitty and Sanrio etc, but still be a bit more... edgy?

Personality and General Trivia:

one of those people who’s friendly with almost everyone

but that doesn’t mean he’s friends with them, yanno?

gets drunk from one wine cooler

loves the theater and is in the drama club, but likes to be behind the stage, not on it

wants to be a director one day

watches Netflix on his phone every single time he has any time to spare, because he’s always binging a show

is usually pretty positive and kind, gives people the benefit of the doubt

but can be very stubborn, and if he has decided he dislikes or doesn’t trust someone, it’s almost impossible to change his mind

Friendships:

Butters put up with Cartman for so long because he genuinely thinks he can be fun when he’s not horrible, and he really tries his best to believe in people

he was also the first one to forgive him after the others cut him off

a very loyal and fun friend

takes a lot of initiative to do stuff, and loves hosting movie nights

thinks of these boys as his closest friends, but is also real close to Wendy, Bebe, Jimmy and Tweek

Family:

I just hate Stephen so much you guys

so tbh I usually like to just... have Linda leave him, or straight up kill him off oops

I know Linda is terrible too, I do, but I think she could possibly have a moment of realization if something happens like Butters potentially being taken away?

idk I’m not gonna go too deep into this, I know it’s such a heavy topic and I don’t wanna seem like I just ignore it, but I personally don’t usually include Stephen directly in my stories, and this is why, I hope y’all understand and respect that!

Ships and relationships:

my main Butters ship is Stutters (Stan x Butters)

I mentioned a lot why in Stan’s headcanons?

but idk, I just really think they’d balance each other well, and could have a very interesting and cute relationship!

I usually headcanons him as pan or gay, and genderqueer, but I’m open for other interpretations too!

he does date a little bit, but have never been in a real relationship and isn’t stressing about it!

he did have a pretty huge crush on (a very unaware) Kenny during middle school, but then they started hanging out a lot more and became really close and Butters didn’t really bring it much thought?

that’s until Cartman gets jealous and throws out a “what are you guys dating and fucking and being gay huh???” and Butters mind immediately goes to “omg ew no he’s like my brother!”

aaand that’s how Butters realized he was over his crush

they two of them stay close friends tho, Kenny makes Butters laugh and helps him be more sure of himself and Butters helps Kenny remember that they’re still just kids and should have fun and be good

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bxthharmon · 4 years ago

Text

Never Go Home Again, Pt. XIII || JJ Maybank x Reader

Words:2715

Series Warnings: violence / talking about abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes sex and sex tapes / drugs / underage drinking

Pt. Warnings: abuse / being a fugitive???

Series Summary: A new girl, a shoebox of old memories, a past she’s trying to forget coincide with a hotheaded, but selfless, boy. teenagers getting in way over their heads

Pt. Summary: In a desperate attempt to sort everything out, Y/N finds herself in the ones place she least expected to be

A/N: ok ok ok i promise im writing my requests oops anyway love yall send more requests cuz im always bored. Also, yall dont understand how sad i am that this is ending :( BUT started writing another series so lemme know if u wanna get tagged in that <3

Chapters linked in my masterlist.

“masterlist”

“John B, what are we doing at the police station?” JJ asked, breaking the stuffy silence that was consuming the vehicle.

“Somebody’s gotta tell them what happened.” He justified.

“Need me to come in, like, as a witness?” you asked. He shook his head.

The heavy quiet was broken by Pope, coughing like he’d inhaled chili powder. “Easy there, chief.” JJ reprimanded, and you took the blunt away from your friend. “Alright,” JJ leaned through to John B, “I’m just gonna be real with you right now,” You watched his red cap, “You might end up in the lion’s den, but you don’t go there on purpose. It’s fundamental, just like my old man always told me, you should never, ever trust cops. No matter what the circumstance is.”

“Your old man’s an abusive liar.” Kie countered.

“I agree with JJ.” Pope spoke, and you frowned, holding back the giggle in your lips as he continued, “Fuck the police.”

“You going to the dark side now?” Kie snarked.

“When was the last time the police ever helped us?” He countered.

“Peterkin looked out for me, alright?” John B interrupted, “Or tried to, at least.”

There was a moment of thick quiet before he continued.

“They need to know.”

He looked around, none of you willing to argue as he got out of the car and entered the station. You looked over to JJ, who was determinedly ignoring your stare. You wondered what the fuck was going on because last time you checked, you had been on good terms with him. You sighed, looking out the window and waiting impatiently for John B to return so that the awkward silence would end. You took a hit from the blunt you’d taken from Pope, letting the smoke swirl around in your lungs before gently blowing it out, ignoring the frustrated looks you got from the other three.

Next thing you knew, everyone was shouting and the car was accelerating, the officer trying to open the car door discarded as the shocking adrenaline rush took ahold of the speeding car. Eyes wide, you took another hit from the blunt.

“Good news for residents of the Outer Banks, Dominion Power says their underwater transmission line, which will restore power to 95% of the area, should be functional within 24 hours.”

Sirens passed, but in the hazy atmosphere of the car, no one moved, other than to make sure the car didn’t turn. Pope and Kie sat in the front, JJ and John B to your right, seats reclined as you all attempted whatever kind of rest was possible on the worried heat of the day.

“And still no arrest for the shooting death of Sheriff Susan Peterkin. The state police have issued a statement regarding a local person of interest, a juvenile from-”

Kie clicked the radio off, glancing over at the three of you in the back.

“Let’s game this out.” JJ suggested, “Maybe you guys can help, being the smart ones and all, but… who are the cops going to believe? Ward Cameron or us? So the accuser is a big shot developer, kind of lord of the island, got the governor on speed dial kind of person, and the accused…” he looked over to his friend, “is John B, who is pretty much a homeless 16-year-old boy at the moment.”

“Thanks.” came the hoarse voice of the boy across from you.

“Shit.” you muttered, running a hand over your face and sitting up straight for the first time in hours. You twisted so that your back was leaning on the back oh Kie’s seat, and you were facing the three boys.

“Okay, man, Yucatan, alright?” JJ said, swiftly avoiding your arm as you stretched, “I’m saying, that’s the only option, what other option do you have?”

“Enough with the Mexico bullshit.” John B shook his head. “Sarah’s gonna bail me out.”

“She did witness the whole thing.” Kie pointed out.

“So did I?” you reminded, “So what? She’s gonna snitch on her brother for her dick appointment of the week? No offence, bro.”

“It’s not happening.” JJ reiterated, “We’ve gotta get you off the island.”

“The ferry.” Pope said, “It’s the only way.”

“Exit stage left while you still can.” JJ added. “Before the entire island is on lockdown.”

“Get down.” You reminded him softly, and you all ducked. You reached for JJ’s hand, but his simple gesture of pulling it away made you feel embarrassed, unsure of whatever was going on between you. You turned away from him, looking out the window again.

“Sarah’s not a pogue, John B.” Pope reminded.

“Yeah, you can’t stay here, man.”

“Let’s go then.” You muttered, and Pope pulled out, driving carefully to the docks. They were crowded, and you got out before anyone could argue, thankful for even two minutes out of the suffocating atmosphere. You walked to the sign, reading the notice about the ferry closure and ripping the wanted poster off its staples. You walked back to the car, reading it as you reached the vehicle, then passing it through Pope’s window and shaking your head solemnly. You got in next to JJ as they passed the paper around, JJ making a joke.

“Okay, so the whole island’s looking for John B right now.” Pope said.

“Well at least you know how much you’re worth.” You joked, receiving a frustrated look from Kie.

“Congratulations, John B,” JJ smirked, “you’re famous.”

“We gotta get to the HMS. We need small, no running lights-” kie began to reason, but John B cut her off.

“It’s at the Chateau, Kie.”

“And I wonder if the cops have got the entire place staked out.” JJ said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “Let me think. Yeah, no, they definitely have that place locked down.”

“Hey Jay?” you nudged him, an idea forming, “Like, a couple of weeks ago, you mentioned your dad’s boat? The Ghost? Spectre?”

“The Phantom!” JJ and Pope caught on.

“He still got it?” Pope asked.

“Maybe.”

“You could get that right up the coast, no problem.” Pope said.

Bickering followed, and then the sudden realisation that Pope’s car was on the poster. Suddenly, someone was hitting the window and the car wasn’t starting and everyone was shouting. The car lurched forwards, straight into another car, and then took off, driving away as people watched, shocked.

The car sped forwards, crashing around as you all shouted for Pope to stop, his high ass was definitely not fit for driving.

“JB,” you shouted over everyone, “you need to get out.”

Pope braked, all of you thrust forwards with the force of it, and you found yourself pushing John B out of the car while JJ shouted instructions at him.

The two field tents were massive, rows of chairs on either side as swarms of people worked, talked, and typed. You wandered around for a minute or so, watching the officers interact, always being pushed back when you tried to talk to anyone. You could feel the eyes of the security team burning into you as you looked for Shoupe. Eventually, you saw him, talking to a taller man in an SBI windbreaker. You walked towards them slowly, finalising your plan in your head.

Shoupe saw you, and stepped aside from the conversation so that he was facing you, the agent turning as well, a frown forming as he took in your scruffy attire and the faint smell of JJ’s weed that was clinging to your clothes. You looked between them, “Uh, Officer Shoupe, I have some info.” You greeted.

“Who are you?” The agent interrupted, looking you over again.

“Um, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, I know John B.” you clarified, and he nodded.

“What have you got for us?” he asked, and you breathed in, and out, pinching yourself slightly.

“I saw everything on the airstrip.”

The SBI agent introduced himself as Bratcher, then they sat you down in one of the tents, letting you explain what you saw, uninterrupted, and asking questions when they saw fit. They told you that your account, while plausible, was a hard one to argue, especially against Ward Cameron, unless you had a second account to back it up.

Sarah Cameron, you thought. Talk to Sarah.

After taking your statement, they left you to sit in the field tent, shivering in the cold breeze and no coat, watching them call your dad, listening out for any relevant information you could gather.

You could feel their eyes on you, discussing what to do with the information you had for them. An officer, you couldn’t remember her name, had draped a jacket over your shoulders at some point, then led you away while the SBI agent gave a briefing.

You waited at the end of the tent, looking for anything to cease your worry and boredom.

Then you saw her. She looked as lost as you had, trying to work out who to talk to, just like you had a few hours ago. You stepped towards her.

“Sarah?” she turned to you, going to hug you, but an armed officer stepped between you, pulling you apart. “No, she’s my friend!” you struggled towards her, another officer holding her away from you, both of you shouting.

“What’s happening?” Bratcher asked, all of you stopped struggling.

“This is Sarah Cameron,” you explained, “she was there, like I said.”

He looked between you, and nodded, asking her if she was able to make a statement. They took her away, sitting her down at the other end of the tent, letting her talk. You saw Ward approaching.

“Y/N?” he frowned, and you raised your eyebrows.

“How do you know who I am?”

“Sarah’s mentioned you.” he looked around, “have you seen her?”

“Oh, is she no longer locked away in her room?” He tensed, confusion and anger contorting his features.

“How do you know about that?”

“Can’t say.” You said, “Not a great parenting strategy, just saying.”

He leapt forwards, a madness in his eyes that you’d never seen before. He grabbed you by the throat, screaming in your face while you clawed at his grip. Within seconds, other bodies were pulling him away. Your panic subsided, and you looked at Bratcher. You could use the situation to your advantage.

“See what I mean?” you yelled, pointing at him as you faced Bratcher, “He’s crazy! I told you, he attacked Big John, he’s the reason this is all happening!”

Bratcher sighed, signalling for his men to take away the older man. “I have to say, Miss Y/L/N, your story is making more sense. Two stories matching perfectly, his temper. But we talked to your father, you’re free to go, we’re almost done with Sarah.”

“What’s going to happen to John B?”

He sighed, “We’ve gotta bring him in, you understand that.”

You nodded, “I hope I shed some truth to the situation.”

You walked away, leaving the jacket on a chair as you passed, sending a reassuring smile to Sarah on your way out, you wandered the streets, finding your way to JJ’s house.

By some kind of miracle, you arrived at the same time as Kie and JJ. He was getting out of the car when he noticed you, and instead of making any move to hug you as normal, he froze.

“Look, JJ,” you sighed. “Why are you mad at me?”

You stood opposite him in his front yard, staring at the way he sighed, an odd mix of relief and defeat adorning his features. “I saw some texts, from Tyler.”

You nodded slowly. “I rejected him, if that’s what upset you. Since I met you, no guys have been the same, you know?”

His eyes pulled in slightly, as if realising that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t one-sided. “Did you sleep with him?”

“Yeah.” you glanced at the floor, “I don’t really know why. Things were weird between us and I just - I missed my old life. But it was like, the confirmation I needed.”

“What do you mean?”

“I love you.”

His jaw dropped slightly in shock, running you words over in his head, working out whether you were genuine. You began to step back, and before you could think about what had just happened, he was kissing you.

It was urgent, emotive, full of everything that you couldn’t put into words. You broke apart, still slightly shocked at the confession. You looked at his front door.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

He looked to Kie, who was pretending she hadn’t watched, and nodded apprehensively, slipping a hand into yours and leading you to the door. He opened it, leading you through into the mess. You stepped over shoes and bottles as he led you in, calling out for his dad.

You ventured into the living room, seeing his dad passed out on the sofa, a half empty bottle of something on the table next to him. “Dad, I need the keys to the Phantom.” a snore sounded, “Dad?”

You looked down, noticing the sleeping pills and picking them up, showing the bottle to the blond boy next to you. Watching him, you could practically feel the hurt resonating off him, masked by his strong resolution as he looked back at his dad. Noticing the chain around his neck, between you you found a pencil and pin to get the keys with.

You stood a couple of feet behind him as he knelt down, preparing himself.

“Well, I didn’t expect to see you.”

The voice was a murmur, almost soft, and your heart was beating in your throat. You knew what he was capable of.

“You’re back.”

This time, Luke had more clarity in his voice, and was more awake. He hadn’t noticed you yet.

“Just checkin’ in.” JJ said, backing away as the older man sat up, taking a swig from a beer bottle.

“School out already?”

“What?” JJ frowned.

“Did you ditch? It’s alright, you can tell me.”

JJ nodded slowly, “Yeah. I hit the break, you know?”

“I hated school too. My boy!” Luke chuckled. You felt intrusive, like you were standing in on a moment that wasn’t yours to see. But the moment felt intimate, hitting you where it hurt as your eyes went glassy. “You know what? Listen, hey.” he stood shakily, “Hey, look, I know I’m hard on you sometimes.” JJ hummed, fear mixing into his pain, “But sometimes I - I see your mother in you, and it gets me a little tweaked, you know?”

You wiped a tear away, the scene before you hurting more than you would like to admit. The man looked at you, and you could see JJ’s shoulders tense.

“You got a girl?” he didn’t look away from you.

“Uh, yeah, Y/N.” JJ looked over at you, worry seeping into his eyes.

“You treat my boy better than I could, okay?” You nodded slowly, more tears slipping down your face.

“Of course.” your voice broke slightly, “I love him.”

“Me too.” His head turned back to his son, “I love you, son.” He pulled JJ in, “Come here, I love you. I love you, son. I love you.”

More than anything, you wanted to call him out. Tell him that if that was true, then he wouldn’t hurt JJ like he did. But whatever this moment was, it wasn’t the right one to do so.

You could hear JJ sniffling, letting his hands find their way onto his father’s back. When he spoke, he sounded like he wanted to be stronger than he felt, his voice thick, pained, struggling. “Love you too, Dad. I’m sorry.”

“Ain’t got nothing to be sorry for.” His father muttered, the sleeping pills pulling him back out of consciousness, slowly as ever. JJ helped him down onto the sofa. “You’re a good boy.” came the murmur.

JJ let out a shaky breath, not sparing you a glance as he pulled the chain from his father’s neck and stepped away. He looked back at you, almost embarrassed to have let you see him in such a vulnerable state. He turned to leave, your voice came out as a hoarse whisper.

“JJ, you don’t always have to be strong, you know that, right?”

Tags: @tangledinsparkles @jellyfishbeansontoast @lolitstiana @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch @teamnick @thoughtsofthestars @obxmxybxnk @pcterparxer @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @sxcretinhuman @alexa-playafricabytoto @angvelics @badwolf00593 @coloradogirl07 @mendesmaybank @jiaraendgame @5am-cigarette @emerald-xcd @haharudy

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yastaghr · 4 years ago

Text

Nest(l)ing

I've been writing this one for a while now. It's a hypothetical alternate universe to Grey where Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics are at play.

Summary: A serious of snapshots for Blue's nest building as an Omega, from his first nest as a child to his first nest on the Surface.

Characters: Blue = Underswap Sans, Stretch = Underswap Papyrus, Edge = Underfell Papyrus, Red = Underfell Sans, Underswap Gaster

Warnings: Homelessness, Domestic Violence, Implied Rape/Noncon, Bad Brother Stretch

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26583658

The Gaster of Underswap #832 was a lover, not a fighter. Well, in a way. Romantic or sexual love? No. Platonic love, especially parental love? Yes, please. He would happily talk about his amazing little 5 year old and his adorable little 14 month old to anyone who gave him the slightest excuse. Blue, at 5 years old, was so bright, a cheerful little thing that was always smiling about something. Stretch was still small for a 14 month old, but he was crawling around now quite easily.

Blue was coming up on his 6th birthday, so when Gaster walked into his boys’ room and encountered a roughly circular mess it wasn’t that much of a surprise. His family had always matured early. Still, he wished that Blue didn’t have to go through this so soon. He remembered his own transition, and Blue was going to be ridiculed when he started school and already had to deal with heat suppressants.

The hardest thing about heats, though, was definitely how they made you feel. Blue seemed to currently be in a down state. He was sitting in the middle of the mess looking frustrated and overwhelmed.

Gaster knelt down and held out his arms for his son, who predictably crawled right into them. He rocked Blue gently while his little star cried into his shoulder.

Eventually the tears dried up and Blue patted his leg to get his attention. “DADDY, I DIDN’T MEAN TO MAKE A MESS! IT JUST… IT FELT LIKE I HAD TO. I JUST NEEDED TO HAVE ALL MY SOFT THINGS AROUND ME, BUT IT JUST DOESN’T SEEM TO WORK NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I MOVE THEM.”

Gaster smiled softly down at him. “That’s okay, my little star. This is a special thing. I can show you how to do it while I explain it, okay?”

“OKAY, DADDY. WHAT DO I NEED TO DO?” Blue immediately said.

Gaster couldn’t be prouder of his little star. Blue had immediately taken personal responsibility for this. He was amazing. “Well, the first thing I want you to do is help me make some piles. We need to take all the soft things and make piles for blankets, pillows, and toys. Can you do that?”

Blue nodded and set about cleaning up his mess, his little blue tongue sticking out the side of his mouth. While he worked, Gaster explained. “Now, what your body was telling you to make is called a nest. Omegas like you and me always like to have a nest. It’s a vital comfort to our instincts. Remember, I told you about what being an Omega means?”

Blue nodded as he placed the last stuffed toy into a heap. “YEP!”

Gaster smiled at him. “Good. Now, the next step is to set up your pillows in a rough circle. Can you do that for me?”

Blue nodded, stuck his tongue out of his mouth in an adorable display of concentration, and arranged his pillows. The shape was more like an oval than a circle, but that didn’t really matter. It was rounded and that was all that mattered.

“Well done, Blue. Now the next step is to lay your blankets over the pillows so that the extra blanket covers the center of the circle. Does that make sense?” Gaster asked.

“UM… I THINK IT DOES? SO I MAKE THE INSIDE OF THE CIRCLE BE COVERED IN BLANKETS THAT ALSO GO OVER THE EDGE OF IT? LIKE… LIKE THAT TIME WE MADE PIE CRUSTS TOGETHER AND WE PUT THEM IN THE LITTLE BOWL THINGIES, RIGHT?” Blue rephrased what Gaster had said, a trick Gaster had taught him to help him make sure he really understood things before he jumped into doing them. He was proud of his son for remembering how to do it.

“Yes, exactly!” Gaster confirmed. Blue smiled his beautiful, shining smile and giggled. Then he got to work, covering the base of the nest just like Gaster had said. When he was done he turned to Gaster for guidance. The scientist and proud father explained the next step, “Okay, Blue. The final thing you need to do is take the soft toys and line them up just inside of the pillows. That way you’ll have something to cuddle with.”

Blue did as he said and arranged his soft toys inside the circle. He didn’t have many of them, but the few he did have he loved and cherished. Most of them were gifts from Gaster’s co-workers and boss. Gaster’s meager salary wasn’t enough to buy his sons very many things. There was one he had gotten for his son, a little stuffed skeleton that he'd found in the dump and washed thoroughly before giving it over.

“IS THIS GOOD, DAD?” Blue asked quietly.

Gaster blinked his way out of his reverie and smiled at his son. “Yes, Blue. It’s a beautiful little nest, and I’m very proud of you for building it so well.”

Blue beamed at him, then crawled into his nest and sat down. He patted it gently, getting used to the feeling of having it around him. Gaster left him to it. Your first nest was a very special place.

=====

Blue stared at the measly collection of semi-soft things he’d managed to track down in despair. There weren’t nearly enough to build the nest he wanted - no, needed to make. Without a nest this abandoned building he had found wouldn’t count as a home, and that would mean that the 6 year old Stretch would break curfew and become a rule-breaker like him. Blue would do anything to avoid that fate for his little brother. Anything.

Resigned to his task of building a makeshift nest, the 10 year old Blue grabbed the first ancient pillow he had pulled out of a dumpster behind a mattress shop and set it out. He used the remaining six to form a circle. It was a very small circle. There was no way that it was going to fit both of them. That was okay, though. After his stay in the hospital that had lasted for months as a kid he was already a rule-breaker, so he didn’t really need to be in the nest. All it needed to hold was his little brother.

After the pillows went down Blue lined the nest with the moldy towels and ripped blankets he’d managed to scrounge up. There were just enough of them to make it work. At least the small size of the circle allowed for that.

When that was done Blue set the handful of stuffed toys he had managed to save from their old apartment along the rim of the nest. He took extra care with the little stuffed skeleton. It was a gift from his father, unlike all the other toys. Blue didn’t know what had happened to Gaster in that accident, but he wanted to cling on to the few reminders he had that his father had once loved him.

He surveyed the finished nest with disappointment. It wasn’t nearly up to the standards of the ones he had built in the past during his heats; it was clunky, moldy, raggedy, and small. It would have to do for now, though, because Blue didn’t have any other supplies to make it better.

=====

The 18 year old Blue didn’t fight against his brother when he duck-taped him to the wall in his room in the house in Snowdin. He figured it was just a prank, and it didn’t seem that harmful. That idea was quickly shattered by Stretch’s own actions. The 14 year old turned an expression on Blue that he’d only ever seen on the faces of his rapists. Then he turned around and started methodically destroying the nest Blue had only just finished building.

“STRETCH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!” Blue called out, distress evident in his voice.

Stretch turned on him the most condescending look Blue had ever seen. “destroying this stupid waste of space, bro. you’re a rule-breaker. you don’t deserve to have a nest like this. you haven’t earned that privilege with all the slutty behaviour you’ve been showing lately.”

“STRETCH, WHAT- I WAS IN HEAT! YOU TOOK AWAY MY HEAT SUPPRESSANTS BECAUSE YOU SAID THEY COST TOO MUCH. WHAT DID YOU EXPECT ME TO DO? ALL OMEGAS ACT WANTON WHEN THEY’RE IN HEAT, AND I WASN’T EVEN ACTING LIKE THAT AT ALL! I LOCKED THE DOOR TO MY ROOM AND DIDN’T COME OUT UNTIL MY HEAT WAS OVER. I DIDN’T EVEN TRY TO FIND A HEAT PARTNER! MAKING IT THROUGH A HEAT WITHOUT ONE IS-” Blue was interrupted in mid sentence.

Stretch snarled, “i don’t care about your excuses, blue! everyone in town could smell you. they were all ravening after you! i’ve never heard so many gross things in one week. if you’re going to cause problems like that you don’t deserve anything soft or comfortable. maybe if you have to sleep on the floor you’ll understand how not okay it is for you to make me that uncomfortable! now, shut up or else!”

Blue gulped and did as he was told as his mind raced to try and understand. He knew what Stretch thought he did wrong, but he didn’t know what he could have done differently. He’d done everything he could not to make his heat into a burden on others! Why did Stretch want to punish him for that? Pale blue tears dripped out of his sockets as he forced himself to watch Stretch rip, shred, and tear all of the soft things he’d used to make his nest. The drip turned into a torrent when Stretch found the stuffed skeleton. Blue cried out, “NO, STRETCH! PLEASE, NOT THAT ONE! DAD GAVE THAT TO ME JUST BEFORE-”

Stretch growled at him. “what did i say about shutting up? just for that i’m going to take my time destroying this one!”

Blue watched in horror as Stretch summoned a sharp bone and started cutting tiny pieces out of the “bones” of the skeleton. The pieces were no bigger than an ant, and he took his time to shred them and scatter them all over the mess he had made of Blue’s room. Blue closed his eyes, trying to save himself the anguish of watching this destruction.

“hey! if you don’t open your eyes right now i’m letting in the rabbit gang. they’ve been especially hungry for you this whole time. i’m sure they’d be overjoyed to know that you had offered to… satisfy their hunger.”

Blue knew exactly what his brother meant, and he opened his eye sockets in shock. Had his brother really threatened to- he had, hadn’t he? New tears flooded his vision. How could his own brother threaten to do something like that? Hadn’t he raised him better? Or had he raised Stretch right, and Blue really did deserve to be treated like this? It had to be that, right? He’d given up everything to keep his brother safe, healthy, and happy. Stretch was just giving him the treatment he deserved.

Blue forced himself to watch Stretch destroy the rest of the nest. It made him feel horrible, like the time he’d been forced to swallow boiling water by one of the gangs in Waterfall. His throat felt raw and inflamed, his hands were trembling, and the tears were pouring down his face. It felt like Stretch was destroying the only safe thing Blue had left. He just must not deserve even that.

=====

Edge stared at Blue with confusion that bordered on consternation. What was this weird little Omega doing? He could smell the beginnings of a heat on him and offered to go get him some suppressants, but that brother of his said no. Edge had accepted that. They were clearly in some kind of relationship, so, if he was his brother’s Alpha, he might have decided that Blue didn’t need the suppressants. If he wasn’t, he might know that Blue’s Alpha didn’t want him taking them, although why an Alpha would want an unprotected Omega off their suppressants was a mystery to him. Edge didn’t want to judge.

All of that made a certain amount of sense - right up until he caught Blue, half naked, washing his clothes and saw the lack of a claiming bite on his body. That changed everything. If Blue wasn’t claimed, why would Stretch get to tell him whether he could take the suppressants? Unclaimed Omegas got to choose that for themselves! Edge promised himself that he would ask Blue the first chance he got.

He did, but Blue’s reaction confused him even more. He’d looked at the ground in a haunted way and said, “IT’S NOT MY CHOICE TO MAKE.”

“NONSENSE,” Edge dismissed. “IT MIGHT NOT BE IN YOUR WORLD, BUT HERE, IT IS; BY LAW, WHICH YOUR BROTHER IS OBSESSED WITH OBEYING. WHY WOULDN’T YOU GET TO CHOOSE FOR YOURSELF?”

Blue still didn’t look up at him. “IT’S TOO EXPENSIVE, EDGE. WE CAN’T-”

“BLUE,” Edge reached out and tilted his skull up to face him, “THEY’RE FREE HERE. YOU DON’T HAVE TO PAY.”

“REALLY?” Blue asked, his voice shaking. “WE - I CAN TAKE THEM AGAIN? I DON’T HAVE TO LOCK MYSELF IN MY ROOM TO KEEP FROM BEING RAPED? I DON’T HAVE TO GET TAPED TO THE WALL JUST FOR GOING INTO HEAT?”

Edge gaped at him. Then he shakily held out his arms for Blue and knelt down on one knee to make them closer in height. “I… THAT’S… I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY. RAPE, HERE, IS ONE OF THE BIG 4. THAT MEANS IT’S PUNISHABLE BY DEATH IF THE VICTIM WANTS LENIENCY ON THEIR ABUSER AND A MAGIC CUFF FOR THE FIRST OFFENSE IF THEY DON’T. THAT’S WHY HEAT SUPPRESSANTS ARE FREE, SO NO OMEGA IS TAKEN WITHOUT THEIR PERMISSION. AND… WHY WOULD SOMEONE TAPE YOU TO A WALL FOR SOMETHING YOU CAN’T HELP? YOU’RE AN OMEGA, AREN’T YOU? YOU HAVE TO GO INTO HEAT.”

Blue stepped back from him and put on a cheerful smile. Edge knew it was fake. He’d worn the same smile himself, many times. It was as fake as fake could be. He didn’t have the energy to press for the truth, though. Pressing was something that had been Red’s forte.

“WELL, IT’S A LITTLE TOO LATE FOR THE SUPPRESSANTS NOW, SO… I CAN GUARD YOUR ROOM SO THAT NO MONSTERS COME NEAR AND TRY TO HURT YOU OR TAPE YOU TO THE WALLS. I’LL ALSO GIVE YOU MATERIALS FOR A NEST. WHAT DO YOU PREFER, WARM MATERIALS, FLUFFY MATERIALS, OR MATERIALS THAT ARE EASY TO CLEAN?”

None of that seemed like it would be a reason to burst into tears, but that’s what Blue did. Edge went to stand up to hold him, but Blue backed even further away from him, so Edge sat back on his knee. “BLUE, I’M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU. I WON’T MOVE UNTIL YOU SAY. OKAY?”

Blue had backed himself into a corner. He was shaking from his skull to his feet. Stars, Edge thought, what had been done to this poor Omega?

“I’M NOT SURE HOW I UPSET YOU. WAS IT SOMETHING ABOUT THE MATERIALS FOR YOUR NEST?” The other’s nod was barely distinguishable from his trembling, but Edge had practice with that with Red. “WOULD IT FEEL BETTER FOR YOU IF YOU GOT TO PICK OUT THE MATERIALS YOURSELF?”

Blue, finally, found his voice. “I’M NOT ALLOWED TO. I CAN’T- I CAN’T-”

“YOU CAN’T WHAT, BLUE? YOU CAN’T PICK FOR YOURSELF? DO YOU WANT ME TO PICK SOME FOR YOU?” Edge asked.

“I C-C-CAN’T BUILD A NEST. I’M NOT ALLOW-W-WED TO. NO, NOT… NOT ALLOWED. I D-D-DON’T DESERVE TO. NOT AFTER WHAT-T-T I’VE DONE,” Blue sounded like that idea had been beaten into him. Edge needed to tread carefully.

“I DON’T KNOW OF ANY REASON WHY I WOULDN’T LET AN OMEGA BUILD A NEST. THAT WOULD BE LIKE STRIPPING AN ALPHA OF THEIR WEAPONS, OR A BETA OF THEIR TOOLKIT. IT WOULD BE TORTURE; PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE AS WELL AS PHYSICAL. I WOULDN’T EVEN DO THAT TO A CHILD RAPIST,” Edge said quietly.

That idea made Blue flinch. Interesting. He needed to talk to Stretch later on. Privately. That’s what he thought until Blue spoke. “IN OUR W-W-WORLD, ANY CRIME IS THE FAULT OF THE VICTIM FOR NOT TAKING ADEQUATE PRECAUTIONS. I… I’M NOT VERY GOOD AT TAKING ADEQUATE PRECAUTIONS. I’VE BEEN R-R-RAPED A LOT, AND I BROKE THE RULES, AND SO I DON’T DES-S-SERVE TO HAVE A NEST.”

Edge closed his eyes to hide his anger. That was so messed up he didn’t even know where to start. Who had taught Blue that? Why did they think like that? How long had this been going on? All he could think to say was, “THAT’S WRONG.”

Blue swallowed, trying to maintain that happy smile. “I KNOW, BUT I WAS JUST A KI- NO, THAT’S… SORRY. THERE’S NO EXCUSE FOR LETTING THAT HAPPEN. I’M JUST GLAD I KEPT MY BROTHER SAFE FROM IT. HE WAS SUCH AN INNOCENT AND HAPPY CHILD. I DON’T THINK I COULD LIVE WITH MYSELF IF HE HAD HAD TO GO THROUGH WHAT I DID.”

“NO, BLUE. THAT’S NOT WHAT’S WRONG. YOU NOT DESERVING A BASIC PART OF YOUR NATURE BECAUSE YOU WERE THE VICTIM OF SUCH A BIG CRIME? THAT’S WHAT’S WRONG. YOU NEED A NEST. YOU DESERVE A NEST. I WILL DO ANYTHING IN MY POWER TO MAKE SURE YOUR NEST IS KEPT SAFE. PLEASE BUILD A NEST, BLUE. FOR ME, IF NOT FOR YOURSELF,” Edge said, clasping his hands and shaking them in the classic pose of pleading.

Blue eyed him like he was crazy. That slipped into thoughtfulness as he looked around like a cornered animal waiting for the attacks to begin. Then, as quietly as Edge had ever heard him, Blue said, “CAN I HAVE THE FL-”

“blue, what the hell are you doing out here? where’s your shirt? you’re flirting with our host, aren’t you? seriously? how disgusting. why don’t you just drag him into the bedroom and betray me completely?” Stretch’s scathing voice carried over Edge’s shoulder. Edge felt his spine stiffen and had to resist the urge to let his pheromones do the talking.

He turned around and glared at Stretch. “HE ISN’T IN HEAT YET, AND I DON’T SEE YOUR CLAIM MARK ON HIM. I DON’T SEE ANY CLAIMS ON HIM. AS AN UNCLAIMED OMEGA, HERE, HE HAS THE RIGHT TO DECIDE ABOUT SUPPRESSANTS, MATES, AND NESTS FOR HIMSELF. IT’S TOO LATE FOR SUPPRESSANTS TO WORK, SO I WAS OFFERING TO GET HIM THE NESTING MATERIALS OF HIS CHOICE. HEATS ARE AS UNAVOIDABLE FOR OMEGAS AS RUTS ARE FOR ALPHAS. I'M GIVING HIM MY PERMISSION TO TAKE OVER MY BEDROOM FOR THE DURATION OF HIS HEAT. IT’S THE SAFEST PLACE IN THE HOUSE. NO ONE CAN BREAK INTO IT ONCE IT’S LOCKED FROM THE INSIDE.”

Stretch glared back at him, flexing his pheromones and trying to seem like a big Alpha. Edge hated posturing like that. He easily overpowered Stretch’s smell and stalked him down. “YOU WILL LEAVE BLUE ALONE. YOU WILL WORK ON THE MACHINE. THEN, MAYBE, I’LL LET YOU TAKE HIM HOME WITH YOU, BUT IF I FIND OUT ONE MORE MESSED UP THING ABOUT YOUR UNIVERSE I WILL ADOPT HIM AS MY OWN FAMILY AND KEEP HIM HERE.”

Stretch slunk away from him, then ran out of the house. Edge sighed and turned back around. Blue was shaking so hard he was barely able to move, but he was trying to present to Edge like a good Omega. Edge sighed. “I’M NOT GOING TO CLAIM YOU, BLUE. NOT WHILE YOU’RE IN HEAT AND CAN’T THINK STRAIGHT. I WILL PROTECT YOU AND GET YOU THE FLUFFY NESTING MATERIALS, THOUGH. WHY DON’T YOU GO UP TO MY ROOM AND GET STARTED?”

Blue nodded slowly and crawled up the stairs to Edge’s bedroom. Edge sighed and headed for the shed. What a mess. Still, he’d managed to fix even worse conditioning in the past. Red had turned out okay, hadn't he? Edge could do this. He believed in himself.

=====

“okay, blue, i get that your world is weird. but how come you haven’t built a nest yet? is it just a thing for during your heats in your world, or do you need new materials, or what?” Red asked. Blue froze where he was chopping tofu for some tacos. Red just waited. He knew that stuff like this could be an unexpected minefield thanks to Blue’s past. He just hoped that this wasn’t going to be too bad of a pothole in the end.

“I… NESTS ARE MORE THAN JUST FOR HEATS. NESTS ARE AN IMPORTANT THING TO THE PSYCHE OF THE OMEGA. A HOUSE WITH A… PROPER OMEGA IN IT ISN’T CONSIDERED A HOME WITHOUT A NEST. AT LEAST, NOT IF THERE’S A CHILD IN THE HOUSE. THAT MEANS THAT THAT CHILD WOULD BREAK THE RULES IF A NEST WEREN’T MADE. AND NESTS CAN BE MADE OF ANYTHING, AS LONG AS THEY’RE ROUGHLY ROUNDED AND VAGUELY SOFT,” Blue answered him.

“then why haven’t you made one? is it because of some stupid thing about you breaking the rules?” he asked cynically. Most of Blue’s problems related to those stupid rules, sooner or later. Whether that was through the laws, the infrastructure, or that brother of his, his Queen was the real one at fault. She’d written those damned rules in the first place.

Blue carefully set down the knife, but Red could see how his hands were shaking. He ached to grab them and soothe them, but he didn’t want to cause more trouble like he had last time. “IT… IS. AFTER STRETCH FOUND OUT ABOUT WHAT I USED TO DO, WHEN WE FIRST MOVED INTO THE HOUSE IN SNOWDIN, I BUILT A NEST RIGHT AWAY. BUT, JUST WHEN I’D FINISHED BUILDING IT, STRETCH… HE TAPED ME TO A WALL AND MADE ME WATCH WHILE HE DESTROYED IT. HE EVEN D-D-DESTROYED THE LITTLE SKELETON DAD GAVE ME… HE SAID I DIDN’T DESERVE A NEST BECAUSE I’D CAUSED SO MANY MONSTERS TO GO WANTON WITH MY HEAT. I DIDN’T MEAN TO!”

Blue gulped. His whole body was shaking now as he stepped further into the memory. “I EVEN LOCKED MYSELF IN MY ROOM WHEN HE SAID I COULDN’T GO OUT AND BUY MORE SUPPRESSANTS. BUT… PEOPLE STILL SMELLED ME. HE DIDN’T LIKE HEARING WHAT THEY HAD TO SAY, SO HE SAID… THAT IF I SLEPT ON THE FLOOR I MIGHT LEARN NOT TO MAKE PEOPLE ACT LIKE THAT. HE SAID… IF I DIDN’T WATCH, HE’D TELL THE RABBIT GUARD I SAID THEY COULD U-U-USE ME. AND I THOUGHT… I DID EVERYTHING I COULD TO RAISE HIM RIGHT, SO… IT HAD TO BE M-M-ME, RIGHT? I HAD TO HAVE DONE SOMETHING WRONG FOR HIM TO DO THAT TO ME… AND IF I REALLY DID SOMETHING WRONG, THEN I SHOULDN’T TRY TO MAKE SOMETHING THAT I DIDN’T DESERVE, AND HE SAID I DIDN’T DESERVE TO MAKE A NEST, SO… THAT WASN’T RIGHT, WAS IT?”

Red shook his head. “nope. he was being a jealous asshole of an alpha that wanted to control you. also, he was being a regular asshole, too. i’d never try to do that to an omega and i’m a fucking beta! especially with how rare they are.” Blue quivered to face him, just like Red thought he would. Blue had told them about the previous timeline, and Red figured he must have at least gotten to a heat, but the way Boss was he wouldn’t have wanted to put pressure on Blue if he was just going to leave. Red could relate, but Blue had decided to stay here, so he needed to know. “yeah, the birth rate for omegas here has been really low for a few centuries. they’re down to less than a eighth of the population. omegas who can carry a child to term? they’re rarer than moldsmaals.”

“THE OMEGA GENE ONLY MANIFESTS WHEN THE MOTHER FEELS COMPLETELY SAFE AND RESPECTED BY THEIR ALPHA,” Blue said monotonously. “THAT’S WHY THE QUEEN HAS RULEBREAKERS TREATED SO BADLY. SHE DOESN’T WANT THEM REPRODUCING.”

Red bared his teeth. “fuck that. we’ll take them all and treat them proper! starting with their nests. d’ya wanna go splurge on materials? boss and i’ve got a lot saved for this, and you deserve the best nest that money can buy. we can even find you a skeleton plushie, or maybe get someone to make you one. how does that sound? only the best for our mate.”

Blue hesitated. “IN THE LAST TIMELINE EDGE SAID HE HAD MATERIALS FOR ME TO USE. I DON’T WANT TO WASTE YOUR MONEY BUYING NEW ONES.”

Red felt safe enough now to press a kiss to Blue’s teeth. “are you kidding? those are from the public stocks. our queen made a giant stockpile for emergencies. you get to own your own nest now, baby blue. besides, most of what we’ll be getting is replacement clothes and blankets for edge and me. you’re our omega, so your nest should smell like us as well as you.”

Blue’s bright eyes filled with tears. Red could see the happiness in his face, though. “YOU REALLY WOULD LET ME USE YOUR THINGS?”

Red kissed him again, wiping those tears away from his Omega’s face with a smile. “of course, baby blue. now, let’s go raid our closet and get you some stuff to start with. then we can head out to the stores and get shopping!”

=====

The Gaster of Underswap #832 was a lover, not a fighter, and he found it odd that he found himself so much more at home in a world where people had once had to fight for a living than he had in the one he was born into. He still wasn’t into sexual or romantic love, but he had found a new form of love to enjoy after he and the other Omegas had been rescued; grandparental. He loved talking about his twin grandchildren to anyone who would listen. They were still just soulings in Blue’s belly, but he knew they were going to be amazing. After all, with parents like they had, how could they be anything else? He couldn’t wait to meet them.

Right now, though, he was content to help his son and his son’s datemates settle into their new home here on the Surface. He was amazed at how much stuff they had. Blue had 3 boxes; Red and Edge had 18. Considering that most of Blue’s stuff had been stolen back in Underswap #832, it wasn’t surprising that the ratio was so off. That just meant that Gaster got to take him out shopping like he’d always wanted to! Taking Red and Edge as well was a wonderful bonus!

Tonight Gaster had insisted that the others rest while he put away their purchases. When he was done he couldn’t help but check in on them. They weren’t in their bedroom, so the next place he checked was the room with Blue’s nest.

There, asleep in the nest lit only by the light of the moon through the blinds, were Red, Edge, and Blue. Blue was sandwiched in the middle of them, being hugged on both sides by his loving mates. His shirt had ridden up to expose his swelling belly. Two still-white soulings glowed through the light blue of his ecto. They flashed at him slightly, and he pulsed his magic back, then closed the door, smiling, on his son’s well-deserved peace.

#undertale #underswap sans #underswap papyrus #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #underswap gaster #underswap #underfell #yastaghr

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chiseler · 5 years ago

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The Crowd Doesn’t Just Roar, It Thinks: Warner Bros.’ All-Talking Revolution

“Iconic” is a gassy word for a masterwork of unquestioned approval. But it also describes compositions that actually resemble icons in their form and function, “stiff” by inviolate standards embodied in, say, Howard Hawks characters moving fluidly in and out of the frame. Whenever I watch William A. Wellman’s 1933 talkie Wild Boys of the Road, these standards—themselves rigid and unhelpful to understanding—fall away. An entire canonical order based on naturalism withers.

To summon reality vivid enough for the 1930s—during which 250,000 minors left home in hopeless pursuit of the job that wasn’t—Wellman inserts whispering quietude between explosions, cesuras that seem to last aeons. The film’s gestating silences dominate the rather intrusive New Deal evangelism imposed by executive order from the studio. Amid Warner Bros.’ ballyhooing of a freshly-minted American president, they were unconsciously embracing the wrecking-ball approach to a failed capitalist system. That is, when talkies dream, FDR don’t rate. However, Marxist revolution finds its American icon in Wild Boys’ sixteen-year-old actor Frankie Darro, whose cap becomes a rude little halo, a diminutive lad goaded into class war by a chance encounter with a homeless man.

“You got an army, ain’t ya?” In the split second before Darro’s “Tommy” realizes the import of these words, the Great Depression flashes before his eyes, and ours. No conspicuous montage—just a fixed image of pain. Until suddenly a collective lurch transmutes job-seeking kids into a polity that knows the enemy’s various guises: railroad detectives, police, galled citizens nosing out scapegoats. Wellman’s crowd scenes are, in effect, tableaux congealing into lucent versions of the real thing. The miracle he performs is a painterly one: he abstracts and pares down in order to create realism.

Wellman has a way of organizing people into palpable units, expressing one big emotional truth, then detonating all that potential energy. In his assured directorial hands, Wild Boys of the Road sustains powerful rhythmic flux. And yet, other abstractions, the kind life throws at us willy-nilly, only make sense if we trust our instinctive hunches (David Lynch says typically brilliant, and typically cryptic, things on this subject).

I’m thinking of iconography that invites associations beyond familiar theories, which, in one way or another, try to give movies syntax and rely too heavily on literary ideas like “authorship.” Nobody can corner the market on semantic icons and run up the price. My favorite hot second in Wild Boys of the Road is when young Sidney Miller spits “Chazzer!” (“Pig!”) at a cop. Even the industrial majesty of Warner Bros. will never monopolize chutzpah. The studio does, however, vaunt its own version of socialism, whether consciously or not, in concrete cinematic terms: here, the crowd becomes dramaturgy, a conscious and ethical mass pushing itself into the foreground of working-class poetics. The crowd doesn’t just roar, it thinks. Miller’s volcanic cri de coeur erupts from the collective understanding that capitalism’s gendarmes are out to get us.

Wellman’s Heroes for Sale, hitting screens the same year as Wild Boys, 1933, further advances an endless catalogue of meaning for which no words yet exist. We’re left (fumblingly and woefully after the fact) to describe a rupture. Has the studio system gone stark raving bananas?! Once again, the film’s ostensible agenda is to promote Roosevelt’s economic plan; and, once again, a radical alternative rears its head.

Wellman’s aesthetic constitutes a Dramaturgy of the Crowd. His compositions couldn’t be simpler. I’m reminded of the “grape cluster” method used by anonymous Medieval artists, in which the heads of individual figures seem to emerge from a single shared body, a highly simplified and spiritual mode of constructing space that Arnold Hauser attributes to less bourgeoise societies.

If the mythos of FDR, the man who transformed capitalism, is just that, a story we Americans tell ourselves, then Heroes for Sale represents another kind of storytelling: one firmly rooted to the soiled experience of the period. Amid portrayals of a nation on the skids—thuggish cops, corrupt bankers, and bone-weary war vets (slogging through more rain and mud than they’d ever encountered on the battlefield)—one rather pointed reference to America’s New Deal drags itself from out of the grime. “It’s just common horse sense,” claims a small voice. Will national leadership ever find another spokesman as convincing as the great Richard Barthelmess, that half-whispered deadpan amplified by a fledgling technology, the Vitaphone? After enduring shrapnel to the spine, dependency on morphine, plus a prison stretch, his character Tom Holmes channels the country’s pain; and his catalog of personal miseries—including the sudden death of his young wife—qualifies him as the voice of wisdom when he explains, “It takes more than one sock in the jaw to lick 120 million people.” How did Barthelmess—owner of the flattest murmur in Talking Pictures, a far distance from the gilded oratory of Franklin Roosevelt, manage to sell this shiny chunk of New Deal propaganda?

How did he take the film’s almost-crass reduction of America’s economic cataclysm, that metaphorical sock on the jaw, and make it sound reasonable? Barthelmess was 37 when he made Heroes for Sale; an aging juvenile who less than a decade earlier had been one of Hollywood’s biggest box-office titans. But no matter how smoothly he seemed to have survived the transition, his would always be a screen presence more redolent of the just-passed Silent-era than the strange new world of synchronized sound. And yet, through a delivery rich with nuance for generous listeners and a glum piquancy for everyone else, deeply informed by an awareness of his own fading stardom, his slightly unsettling air of a man jousting with ghosts lends tremendous force to the New Deal line. It echoes and resolves itself in the viewer’s consciousness precisely because it is so eerily plainspoken, as if by some half-grinning somnambulist ordering a ham on rye. Through it we are in the presence of a living compound myth, a crisp monotone that brims with vacillating waves of hope and despair.

Tom is “The Dirty Thirties.” A symbolic figure looming bigger than government promises, towering over Capitalism itself, he’s reduced to just another soldier-cum-hobo by the film’s final reel, having relinquished a small fortune to feed thousands before inevitably going “on the bum.” If he emits wretchedness and self-abnegation, it’s because Tom was originally intended to be an overt stand-in for Jesus Christ—a not-so-gentle savior who attends I.W.W. meetings and participates in the Bonus March, even hurling a riotous brick at the police. These strident scenes, along with “heretical” references to the Nazarene, were ultimately dropped; and yet the explosive political messages remain.

More than anything, these key works in the filmography of William A. Wellman present their viewers with competing visions of freedom; a choice, if you will. One can best be described as a fanciful, yet highly addictive dream of personal comfort — the American Century's corrupted fantasy of escape from toil, tranquility, and a material luxury handed down from the then-dying principalities of Western Europe — on gaudy, if still wondrous, display within the vast corpus of Hollywood's Great Depression wish-list movies. The other is rarely acknowledged, let alone essayed, in American Cinema. There are, as always, reasons for this. It is elusive and ever-inspiring; too primal to be called revolutionary. It is a vision of existential freedom made flesh; being unmoored without being alienated; the idea of personal liberation, not as license to indulge, but as a passport to enter the unending, collective struggle to remake human society into a society fit for human beings.

In one of the boldest examples of this period in American film, the latter vision would manifest itself as a morality play populated by kings and queens of the Commonweal— a creature of the Tammany wilderness, an anarchist nurse, and a gaggle of feral street punks (Dead End Kids before there was a 'Dead End'). Released on June 24, 1933, Archie L. Mayo's The Mayor of Hell stood, not as a standard entry in Warner Bros.’ Social Consciousness ledger, but as an untamed rejoinder to cratering national grief.

by Daniel Riccuito

Special thanks to R.J. Lambert

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walkineternity · 5 years ago

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Day 3: Delirium

(The Umbrella Academy x Sandman)

Klaus knew he was in trouble.

He had overdosed again. He tried to stay clean, for Ben and Vanya, for his other siblings, and for Dave. He so very much wanted to see Dave.

But. He tried, okay. Tried so very fucking hard, and everyone was so focussed on Vanya that his efforts weren’t exactly…supported. Ben, of course, knew. And Klaus was grateful to have him. And he didn’t really blame everyone for not paying attention to him. They never really did that in the first place, unless he was causing trouble. And this time, it was because Vanya had nearly ended the world and he got that. He really did. He was trying to be there for them.

But. He was an addict, okay. He can admit that. And…it was so hard to stay clean. He was so fucking high right now. He was so fucking sick right now. And Ben was yelling at him again.

“Fuck! I can’t do this again, Klaus! You were doing so well! Fuck! I can’t even pick up the phone to call the ambulance can I! No! You are going to die in this alleyway and then I’m going to have nobody to talk to and, and, and you can’t leave me alone! Please, Klaus, please! Shit, okay, I’m going to try and get help, okay? I’m going to try.”

Klaus felt himself drift. Ben was still talking, but then suddenly everything was quiet. He didn’t really get how he could still hear Ben with all the drugs in his system, but the other spirits had quieted down. And now, finally, Ben was gone too. He was going to die alone. Like he fucking deserved. His eyes shut, closing over tears that never fell and let the fog take him…

Next thing he knew there was something licking his face. Okay, still alive. Still dying. Probably. He opened his eyes.

Well. Where was he? This wasn’t the alleyway anymore. Maybe he wasn’t dying and he was already dead. But this wasn’t heaven. This was…he wasn’t sure. There were explosions of colours and shapes twisting in and out of existence and he felt simultaneously the highest he’s ever been and stone cold sober. He felt like he was awake and dreaming at the same time.

And in the midst of all this madness, there was a rather ordinary looking dog, who was licking his face.

“Well, hey there, boy. You wouldn’t happen to know the way back to reality now, would you?”

He didn’t know what to expect at this point. And yet it still startled him when the dog stopped licking his face and spoke back. “Ah. You’re awake. Good. You don’t taste very good.”

Klaus frowned. “Actually, I’m a snack. A delicious- wait. I’m…awake.” He sits up and looks around. Nothing was solid. There was no up and no down and he had no clue what he was sitting on because reality kept changing. Okay, he was definitely going crazy. “I don’t think I’m awake.”

“Hm. Well. In a manner of speaking. And in another, you’re dead.”

“Huh.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“Well, I’ve been dead before. And really, I was asking for it anyways.”

The dog tilted its head, considering him, “I should be more specific. You’re only mostly dead, this time. This isn’t Death’s realm, but her sister’s.”

“…mostly dead? What am I? The man in black now?” Klaus hadn’t seen the movie until his teens, when he was homeless and couch-surfing. Or rather bed-surfing. And old lover had the movie on VHS.

“I don’t know what that means.” The dog huffed and then said, “I’m Barnabas, by the way. Not that you asked.”

“Aw, what an adorable name!” Klaus tried to pet him, but Barnabas looked mildly offended and ducked his head away. He looked like he was about to say something snippy when a bunch of brightly coloured fish swam past his head. Klaus had been trying to ignore his surroundings for the sake of his own sanity, but this caught his attention.

And then the…strangest voice followed after. “Ohhh, fishies! Come back here! …Hi, Barnabas!” He couldn’t really describe it. He could understand it, and for the most part it sounded like a young women’s voice, but something was distinctly…otherworldly. The voice sounded how this world looked. Chaotic, ever-changing, pitches and stresses in all the wrong places. It would have been called musical, if it wasn’t so discordant.

And then a figure stepped out of the swirls of colours and then he realised that nothing was ever going to make sense in here. She was colourful herself. Rainbow hair cut in an odd style. Two different coloured eyes and the oddest combination of clothes.

Though, honestly, he couldn’t say anything about his clothes. Currently, he was sporting the same outfit he wore in the real world and, frankly, wasn’t to off from this figure’s choice of clothes.

Well, at least they had something in common. “Nice shoes,” he tries.

The woman (girl? Young lady?) was talking to the dog and the fish, but turned to him at the sound of his voice. She drifted closer and peered down at him.

“Well, hello there, traveler. You seem a little lost.”

Klaus shrugged. She giggled. “Welllll, I suppose that’s, uh, that’s what you call life, now, isn’t it? Just a little bit lost and a lot bit lost! Go-ing on Forever!”

Barnabas came a bit closer to her, to sit beside her, not quite touching, but close. Like he meant to offer her comfort. She absentmindedly scratched his ears, but still didn’t look away from Klaus. Oh, was he supposed to offer a reply?

“Well, I’m hoping that’s not the case. I’ve been trying, lately, you see, to settle down a bit. Stay clean and, y’know, be there for my family. Try to…have a home, a proper one.” His voice grew more unsure as he continued to speak.

She was staring at him as he spoke, but not in his eyes. Just looking there briefly and then looking at his shirt and then his hair. Listening, but just couldn’t keep completely still. As she did, her nail polish changed colour and her ears changed shape and the rainbow in her hair shifted. This whole place was topsy-turvy. Strange how a talking dog named Barnabas was the sanest thing in here.

She looked back up briefly into his eyes and then down at her feet. “It’s Nice to do things for fa-mi-ly. I have many Siblings too. I like to help them sometimes. You said I have nice shoes. Would you like to wear them? We can trade!”

“Um.” Klaus wasn’t really sure what to say. “I don’t think our feet are the same size?”

She frowned. “Oh, what does that matter? Its just for fuunnn. C’mon!” And she proceeded to take off her shoes. Which, were just as colourful as her hair. Rainbow boots that had really neat buckles shaped like the fish that swam around their heads.

His were a solid black heel, stolen from Allison. They pinched his toes, not being the proper size, but they made his legs look gorgeous.

Allison probably wasn’t going to be happy to learn her shoes were traded away, but then again, she probably wasn’t going to be happy with him either way. If he ever made it back, that is.

He decided he should probably say all that out loud, and then he did, because they really weren’t his shoes, but the girl in front of him just sat down to better take of her shoes. “Oh, you’ll get out of Here eventu-ally. I like you, but you’re not mine to keep.” She finally managed to pull off both her boots. She was wearing mismatched socks, but those seemed to vanish. “And your family is just worried about you. If your sssister is mad, it’s only because she cares. You should ask them for help.”

He shrugged and easily kicked off his own shoes, accidently kicking it too close to Barnabas. The dog just looked long-suffering.

“They just think I’m useless and crazy. Well, maybe not Ben, but I’m not exactly doing my best there, y’know? He deserves to follow someone else around. Someone who won’t disappoint him again.”

The girl hummed. “They say I’m crazzzzy too. But that’s alright. Mad-ness isn’t always a Bad thing….it helps when I know too much. Sometimes its nice to have a break from san-i-ty.” Here she started to slip on the heels and gestured at the boots, so Klaus grabbed one and put it on, stamping a little to get his heel in. Huh. Perfect fit. She continued, “And just because I’m mad, doesn’t mean my siblings don’t care about me. Doesn’t mean I don’t care about them. We aallll make mistakes, even Beings such as us, even little ones such as you, and we…oh, shoot, Barnabas! What’s the word? The- the Big one.”

She glanced around as if the word she was looking for would suddenly appear. “You know. When the butterflies are iiiinn your body instead of outside them. Like stepping off the edge of a cliff, but knowing there is Someone to catch you, or for you to catch them.”

Barnabas opened his mouth to say something, but she snapped her fingers (which made Klaus do a doubletake when the snap sound created visual shockwaves of colour, like they were in some sort of comic book), and then said, “Oh! Love! It’s lo-ve. We all love each other the same. They loved me when I was Delight, and they still love me as Delirium. I mean, look at Bar-na-bas!” She gestured with a heel in her hand. The dog sat a little straighter. “He was a gift to me from one of my bro-thers, to care and look afterrr me, and we’ve become such good friends! Destruction cares in his own way, and I know your siblings do too. You just got-ta….gotta ask, okay?”

Barnabas smiled slightly. It looked a bit weird on a dog, but it seemed gentle. “I think we are the very best friends, my dear Delirium.”

She put the other heel on and bounced up onto them, smiling at them both, at the world around them, at the tiny fish swimming above her head. The black of the heels swirled with spots of colour, but mostly stayed the same.

Klaus finished doing up the buckles on both shoes and stood up too. He reached a hand up and the fish swam through his fingers and around his arm. The rainbow shoes felt warm and comfortable on his feet. He felt a bit giddy. He gave her a big grin and said, “Yeah. Okay. Sure. If I ever manage to get out of here, I’ll ask. Why not!”

She gave him a grin in return. To match. Though hers stretched a little too far on her face. Still friendly, but not exactly a human smile. Her eyes changed colours too, but never the same colours at the same time. A fish swam in front of her face and this distracted her from him.

“Well, how do I get out of here anyways? Not that I don’t mind your company, I should be getting back to the real world.”

She looked back at him and seemed to startle a little bit. “Ohhhh, what were we talking about?”

He blinked and looked at her and then looked at Barnabas, who said to her, in a reassuring manner, “It wasn’t important. Klaus was leaving soon anyways.”

“Hm. My he-ad hurts. Was I talking Rightly again? That always Hurts.”

“Yes, Delirium, but you don’t have to anymore. Why don’t we help Klaus go home and then play with the fish?”

Klaus frowned at Barnabas in confusion. Delirium laughed joyfully and said, “Well, hell yeah! There’s only a few swimming around, buuuut I can make more!” She proceeded to spin around and do exactly that.

Barnabas sidled closer to Klaus and said, “She does that, sometimes.”

“What? Forgets?”

“No. Remembers. The advice she gave you? How coherent she spoke? Does not happen often. You should take heed. The knowledge she has…is vast. So vast that it seems to…hurt her. Now, it’s time for you to go.” He didn’t say this roughly, but there was a sadness when he spoke.

“Thanks,” Klaus said, heartfelt. “And thank her for me, too, even if she doesn’t remember.”

Delirium wandered back over with a great many more fish swimming around, some bigger than others. Some so small he could barely see in the swirl of colours and shapes. “Oh yes! You!” She tapped him firmly on the forehead and said, “Say the magic words!”

“Um, please-”

“Wrong, so wrong. Try again.” And here she clicked her new heels three times.

Klaus couldn’t help it. He laughed. He saw that movie too. And then he copied her action and said the “magic” words, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no pla-”

And then he was in an ambulance, the paramedic’s expression triumphant and relieved. Ben, hovering over him on the other side, looked similar.

“Klaus, don’t ever do that to me again. You are so lucky there was this goth lady around. Apparently, you aren’t the only one that can speak to the dead. She was pretty Zen about the whole thing. Said it wasn’t your time and managed to find a nearby payphone. She didn’t even ask why I couldn’t call the ambulance myself!”

Ben sounded a bit hysterical. The paramedic seemed to be chattering away as he checked Klaus’ vitals. Klaus felt himself tearing up. He could still feel the drugs in his system. “I’m so sorry, Ben. I can’t do this-”

“C’mon, Klaus! I know you’re stronger- what about Dave-”

“No, shit, Ben, just- I can’t do this alone, okay? I-I really need. I need help. I want to stay clean. Please. I just- please. I can’t do this alone.”

The paramedic wasn’t paying attention to his babble, too focussed on actually keeping him alive, but Ben was listening intently. He tried to lay his hand on Klaus’ shoulder, but his hand passed through. Klaus shivered. Ben looked disappointed, but not surprised. He settled for leaning over, close to Klaus’ face, and said, “Never, Klaus. I’m here, okay. And the others…we’ll ask for help from them too. We’re all trying to be a family, right? And….and whatever you need.”

Klaus felt tears in his eyes and with a rough voice he said, “Thank you, Ben. I always knew you were my favourite brother.”

Ben rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged the corner of his lips. “Oh, please. I’ll remember that next time you say that to any of our other siblings.”

“Why would Allison or Vanya be my favourite brother?”

“Fuck off, you know what I meant.” Okay, definitely a smile now.

And then Ben happened to glance at his feet. “Klaus, where the hell did you get those?”

Klaus looked at his feet and saw that he wasn’t wearing Allison’s heels, but rainbow boots. Huh. So not a drug-induced dream.

“Klaus?”

“I’ve been thinking, Ben.”

“Oh no. I didn’t know you could do that.” He gestured at the boots. “Are you not going to answer?”

Klaus ignored him and stared at the boots. “I’ve been wondering if they might allow aquariums in rehab.”

Ben stared at him a little. But he was also long used to Klaus saying weird stuff. “Well. If we manage to use some of dad’s fortune for rehab, they’ll allow us as many fish as we want. If…if that’s what you wanted the aquarium for.”

It was…so fucking nice to hear Ben using “us” and “we” like that. He knew Ben was stuck with him, but it felt…. like he wasn’t alone. That Ben meant it. That he was going to have help this time, from the whole family. And if they used dear old dad’s money…well. That would be icing on the cake. Petty? Yes. Deserved, even beyond the grave? Hell yes. He’s glad that he didn’t have another visit from him. He doesn’t think he could stand anymore revelations or disappointment from him. He’d take a bizarre realm of multi-coloured girls and fish and talking dogs any day.

Though, he really didn’t want to go back any time soon. Being mostly dead was exhausting.

“Yeah, Ben, fish. Lots of colourful fish.” His voice sounded further away, like hearing himself through a long tunnel. Klaus could feel his eyes droop closed.

Ben laughed softly. “Anything you need, Klaus. Have some nice dreams for me, will you?” Klaus’ eyes were closed, but for a flash, he thought he saw someone above him. He couldn’t see features, just a strange helmet and black robes. A pale hand sprinkled shining dust onto him. Onto his closed eyes. And then the figure was gone.

And he swore, right before he drifted off to sleep, that he felt Ben’s hand on his shoulder. But then again, it could have just been his imagination.

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letstalksymphogear · 5 years ago

Text

Symphogear, EP.7 (Cont.)

“i have not now, nor ever, liked this creepy ass church elevator.”

“kanade please get out of my head, just because im hungry doesnt mean you have to tell me every time i am”

Hibiki finishes getting a full body X-ray. She’s fine.

“that anime protagonist immunity is really kicking in well!”

“by the way, your wife is here! and she’s looking mighty miffed., as opposed to me, mighty milfed.”

“you dont strike me as a mother figure but ill play along for now”

“i just hope miku’s okay...”

“oh, she’ll be fine! see, i’ve seen these kinds of plots before. big secret revealed, another lover is shown, the victim watches as they’re thoroughly cheated on, and they get to lik-”

“please stop breathing”

Genjuro’s wasting away again in Margaritaville. Looking for some daughter to adopt. SOME PEOPLE SAY THAT THERE’S A, WOOOOMAAAAAN TO BLAAAAAAAAAAME, BUT HE KNOWS

XYLOPHONE RIFF

THAT’S IT’S ALL HIS FAULT

XYLOPHONE RIFF

“i hate it when he gets like this. jimmy buffets not a good look for him.”

“for once you and i agree. seeing the commander sulk like this like a middle aged perma-tourist is genuinely miserable”

“hey homies! im back and i brought some bitches! oh, jesus, why does this place smell like mistakes in miami?”

“its me. im sorry. every time i feel like i failed as a dad, my anti-dad energies manifest. imagine every midlife crisis rolled up into a single ball, smacked into the face for eternity. thats the depth of my pain for failing this girl.”

In a moment of positivity, the friendship between Tsubasa and Hibiki is cemented.

> Tsubasa has joined the party.

“FRIENDSHIP!”

“fweindship.”

“uuuuhhhhh... dadship? yeah thats close enough.”

“WE’RE ALL GOOD FRIENDS!”

“ya tiddies are ringing again, better go get it”

Ryoko also points out that Hibiki’s relic is fusing with herself at an alarming rate. This is important to keep in mind.

Meanwhile, at night.

Miku is posing in the motherly “you done fucked up, where have you been young lady” position. A cold scolding is coming.

“.........................hey miku......”

“you can come in. are you worried im gonna bite? you suplexed a car. that shouldn’t be an issue anymore.”

“miku, i.... i wanted to tell you.... but.... the plot wouldn’t let me, miku....”

“should’ve told the plot to fuck off anyway. now you’re gonna live with that. you’re sleeping... on the bottom bunk.”

“b.... b..... b...... b.... b...... bottom bunk...?”

They slept separately that night. God, this is so stupid. All of this is so goddamned stupid. “I’m so mad at you even though you saved my life.” This is just so. AUGH. THIS IS DUMB. KANEKO WRITE BETTER ANGST THAT MAKES SENSE THAT ISN’T THIS.

Meanwhile, far away from this garbage...

Chris, having been evicted from Fine’s McMansion, wanders the streets of mumblemumble aimlessly. Don’t be fooled by her new fancy dress. Basically, she’s a combat-competent hobo.

“no food. no home. no victories. this sucks. whyd you do it, fine? we coulda been great together. but no. ya fired me. now i look like im prancing the red light district with a highly advanced superweapon around my neck.”

“no... hibiki’s to blame. ever since that genderbent little mac showed up to fight me, it’s been all downhill. fine thought me a laughstock because i couldnt take out her oversized boxing gloves, and now she beat me while i had nehushtan. god... i wish i never met that damn hamster faced chubby cheeked nerd.”

“wait, whats that crying”

Chris spies two kids talking to each other, one of them crying. Chris immediately makes an assumption, believing the big bro is bullying his sis.

“hey! stop nicking her lunch money, twerp”

Chris currently is a firm believer of corporeal punishment.

But the sister deflects the blow. Chris can’t even defeat children right now. Truly, this is a record low for her. You know you blew it when even kids are schooling you on basic morality. She then tells the little girl to stop crying, ironically mirroring her brother.

The infamous double T-Pose maneuver. Chris, you might as well get a shovel and start digging your own grave.

“i keep doing bad things badly, and now im doing good things badly... when fine said i was bad... did she just mean im not talented?”

Chris, finally, does a good thing and helps these kids find their parents.

“yeah. hibiki saved a kid when she got her gear. guess what? bam! im saving two! that’s fifty percent more kid per kid saved. take that, weirdo.”

The kids call her out on Chris singing unconsciously, and Chris gets flustered over it. Dawwwwww.

Chris manages to get them to safety to their Dad...

...while brutally lying about it, making Chris look like a predator. There’s a very crushing irony at play here, given who Chris used to serve.

“ugggggggggggggggghhhhhh hes not even gonna payyyyy meeeeeee why the fuck did i dooooo thiiiiiiissssss”

“hey, you know. you kids have a really nice relationship with one another. care to give me tips on how to be an empathetic human being capable of making friends?”

“maybe we’re born with it”

“maybe its maybeline”

“maybeline...”

Meanwhile...

A cold wind blows through Lydian Apartment 69-L. (I don’t actually know if that’s their room number, I just made it up.)

“jesus take the wheel, because i’m jumping out the passenger seat to save this current wreck of a relationship”

“miku please i saved your life, doesnt that count for anything”

“you already killed me the moment you lied. also im taking the bottom bunk so i dont have to see your face coming down the ladder.”

“miku you cant hide in this depression den forever. i know i hurt you and im sorry for it, but please understand i literally couldnt do it. you saw there were punches and violence and stuff... i didnt want you tied to that...”

“what was that? i cant hear your apologies over my incredibly loud snoring. SNOOOOOOORE. SNOOOOOOOORE. SNOOO- fuck, i just swallowed my spit, fuck”

“i hope this cocoon of displeasure you’ve made for yourself lets you erupt into a butterfly of acceptance so i can fly with you again.”

“......thats not fair. you cant say those beautiful metaphors and get away with it. let me be mad... sniff... let me be mad...”

Sadness wafts in the den of lies Hibiki has been forced into.

No music plays. There is only heartbreak, and woe.

In the midst of this pain...

Ryoko loredumps about how the Symphogears work and are immune to the noise on her blog, ‘hornyonmainforscience.org’, her hybrid science journal slash kink zone. It’s mostly a recap with some pretty good soft techno beats in it.

“i made a custom brew of red bull, five hour energy drink, coffee, and cream. i call it gamer girl piss.”

“damn. that’s some good piss.”

She muses about how Hibiki has managed to break the limitations of her Symphogear, making her a totally unique specimen. Wait, where have we heard this before...?

Hey... Ryoko... let’s just... cool it a bit with the Hibiki pictures... come on...

Ryoko touches upon the Custodians and the Curse of Babel. We ain’t touching that shit until later, because that’s another shitfuck box of crazy just ready to jump us in a dark alleyway to rob us of our wits.

Back to Lydian:

“miku whats the answer to the first three multiple choice questions”

“B. A. D.”

“oh, thanks. huh, BAD.”

“yeah. you are.”

“mmm. taste likes dissapointment. just like my life.”

“hey table for two haha get it cause there’s two chairs and miku for the love of god, please, forgive me”

“ive surgically removed my eyes and drew eyelashes over them with sharpie so i dont have to see your bird bangs.”

“thats very rude to both me and my hair. also, wig.”

Even Hibiki’s meal is judging her. Mainly for not eating it. Fucking look at this. God, that looks amazing. Fuck, why did I write this while I was hungry.

“miku you cant do this forever. i might die and youll end up crying on my tombstone going ‘oh god, why, oh god’, and really, i cant live with myself if that happens. mainly because id already be dead by then”

The Anime Janai crew show up to break some icebergs with a goddamn sledgehammer. As the self-aware Gods of this realm, they got very tired of this poor display of angst, and have decided to directly intervene.

Nevermind. They came for her kneecaps, and they most certainly got them.

PLEASE. I’M BEGGING YOU. END THIS GARBAGE PLOT THREAD.

“look. imma lay down the facts. yall are gay. yall are in love. yall are angry for the wrong reasons. its nobody’s fault here but the writer. so please kiss and make up. pretty please.”

“kaneko... you fool... we all know what the original sin is. its your hack writing making this stupidity in the first place. let the pencil go, asshole!”

They bring up the fact that Hibiki isn’t doing her work and wonder if she has a job on the side, which isn’t allowed by the school. Miku gets annoyed and bails, with Hibiki running after her. Unfortunately, Miku runs faster...

“oh god miku not the rooftop whatever you’re thinking just dont do it! please!”

“no. i came here to angst, since this is the Maximum Angst Zone.”

“i..... okay! okay, that’s fair! rooftops are the perfect place to look sad while getting proper air ventilation, thats fine”

It really would have been better played if it was played off that she felt hurt not because of the lie, but because she felt like she could have helped her better having known the truth, and it being a self-loathing sort of scenario for not being there better for her and not fully understanding the risk at play.

But no, instead, we get this.

youtube

Absolutely obliterated. A heart ripped, shredded, and sent to the Shadow Realm.

The episode ends on that note, but has a post credit scene.

Naked. On an old timey telephone. On a computer. Wearing stockings and long gloves.

The main antagonist of the series, everybody.

She’s talking the best English possible to some random-ass American when suddenly bursting through the scene is none other than:

“I WANT WORKERS COMPENSATION YOU BITCH, BEFORE I UNIONIZE YOUR NAKED ASS”

“AND I WANT A GOOD REFERNECE FOR MY FUTURE EMPLOYER, AND ALSO A SEVERANCE PACKAGE SINCE I’M FUCKING HOMELESS”

“i paint my eyelashes with mascara made from the tar of freshly carbonated corpses manufactured through noise, what on gods green earth compels you to think id give a rats ass about you?”

“so you never cared, huh! you’re just a nasty naked hedonist trying to- trying to- what the fuck are you even trying to do?!”

“i want to live the dream every spicy little fossil like me yearns for.”

“I WANNA FUCK GOD!”

“how- what? what? how do you even- what? are you- do you want to be the pope? is that it? does the pope get to fuck god? are you- is this a larping thing? you’ve really been into larping lately! i don’t like this!”

“youve never read the old testament, have you. ass out, pussy bare, hips up and barefoot. that’s how god’s always liked it.”

“now get lost, punk. you tipped off my hand to genjuro and now you being here is going to ruin everything. if you still feel any semblance of devotion, eat one of your own bullets and call it a day.”

“it’s 2012 bitch, if the mayans dont get you, I WILL”

“what god gives, He takes away, and so do i. i built you from the ground up. your relic, which was good for jack shit on you. the nehushtan, which you failed to do anything with except zap a couple hundred people. stop wars? you’re a walking war, waged by me, for me. and your cartridge has just run out of bullets.”

“uh oh! hand’s acting up again! better bail before i send you back to smacktown where all the bitter little shittalkers like you strut around spending their lives being useless as hell.”

“ah fuck, im not dealing with no manos: the hands of fate bullshit again”

“and guess what else i got on motherfucker”

“i see the union efforts have officially been busted. understandable, have a nice day ma’am”

“LEAVE.”

“I’M GOING, I’M GOING”

#symphogear #symphogear season 1 #anime #recap #comedy

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