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namecantbeblank · 2 years ago

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Can you give me a little TL:DR for begore the brazilians came? It's just too much to accompany and im lazy, sorry-

Anon, there is a ton to go over, but I'll just give you some big plot points okay? I'll try to organize them! People please reblog/comment with more points. Sit back. Hold your breath. This won't be in exact order, and this is slightly English POV heavy, but it's what I can think of right now.

Before Eggs:

The original Spanish and English members arrive on a train, split into two groups. They solve puzzles to escape and blow up the wall that was separating them both.

They 'meet' the Duck through videos, telling them what to and most importantly, to not blow up the wall, which Vegetta immediately does.

They meet Osito Bimbo / Cucurucho , a fully white snowman/bear like creature that claims they're from the QSMP census bureau. Seems harmless, and some fun is had with them.

La Villa de Sacapuntas is created, consisting of Wilbur, Jaiden, Phil, and Slimecicle, serving as an early civilization and interaction before Spreen, Missa and Roier took it over. Lots of lighthearted events here, great interactions between people.

Everything is lighthearted for a bit until the egg event. I honestly recommend watching day 1 vods.

Egg Event:

Live translation is introduced, as well as the eggs! Players are introduced to the concept, rules and partnerships regarding the eggs, which are as follows:

The eggs are Dragon eggs, and players must protect them until the mother returns.

Each Egg has two lives. They may be lost through dying or failing to complete egg tasks (Lethal and Happiness tasks)

The family with the happiest egg will be rewarded, and any families with eggs that die will be punished.

Each family has a partner who speaks a different language (minus single parents, Bad and Quackity)

If an egg bed is broken, the egg loses a life.

Everyone adopts their eggs, names them and gets their partners. Some parents, like Phil and Missa and Spreen and Fit, have one of their partners go on a trip, so they're basically single parents.

Families begin, some more stable than others, and egg personalities are learned.

Family Disputes, Early deaths, and Satan:

In the early days of the eggs being around, there were a few deaths, but none permanent.

Families like Charlie and Mariana, Quackity and Tilin and Max and Dan quickly show how dysfunctional they are. Either with outright arguments or lack of proper interaction with their egg. But everyone tries their best

Families like Roier and Jaiden, Philza and Missa, and Bad and Dapper are very positive and have little issues for the most part. Everyone is becoming attatched to these eggs.

A new person joins the party: Satan (The Devil) and Lil J (The Angel/Jesus). Played by Rubius, each of these characters talk with the parents and give them rewards for performing tasks. The Angel also has contact with a higher God, allowing eggs to be revived or given another life.

Egg Death 1: Misclick

After going AFK, Mariana accidentally clicks on Juanaflippas bed and destroys it, taking her last life.

Everyone is distraught, especially Charlie.

Charlie goes a bit insane. He starts a plan of revenge, trying to murder all the other eggs in an attempt to bring Juanaflippa back. He fails and is talked down.

Egg Death 1.2: The Rebirth of Juanaflippa and The Court Case

After failing to kill the other eggs, Charlie starts a court case against Mariana. He gets five lawyers. He kind of loses.

This is honestly a stream worth watching from any POV. Very funny.

The Judge allows Juanaflippa to be reborn. The dysfunctional family is back together.

Charlie and Mariana make up and have sex. Again. This happens multiple times on screen. I hate them

Egg Death 1.3: She fucking died

After Charlie exiles himself, Juanaflippa and Mariana stay in the greater island.

Mariana, while fighting a vindicator, fucking kills Juanaflippa again

Osito Bimbo visits Charlie in exile to tell him his egg is dead. Charlie doesn't believe them, and they have an argument.

Both parents are in a strong stage of grief, wanting to kill other eggs sometimes.

There is a semi-ongoing attempt to bring her back.

Egg Death 2: The Neglect of Trump

After the court case, Trump loses his second life. His parents are Maximus and DanTDM- Dan hasn't been on since the beginning, and Max forgot to take care of him.

Maximus goes a little crazy after. I don't remember the details but he started like, eating a lot

Trump has been found in the promotional posters tho?? And there's a lot sus about him. Don't quote me on that though.

Egg Death 3: Misclick PT.2 + Quackitys downfall

Before Juanaflippa died the second time, she and Charlie were taking care of Tilin. Tilin was going to go with Roier, who usually took care of them, but Charlie took her instead. During the night, Charlie accidentally hit Tilin while fighting a mob with a sword, killing him.

Juanaflippa is distraught that her friend died, Roier is yelling at Charlie, and Charlie and Mariana are officially named misclick duo.

Quackity finds out. He's out for revenge. He goes mental, planning on killing eggs and Charlie. He is eventually talked down a bit by Wilbur, forming his attachment to Tallulah, but it doesn't end there.

(Modern day) Later on, in the strip club, Vegetta and Roier perform a... show.. for Quackity specifically, where Quackity reveals he wants to kill the eggs still. He's basically just been spiraling since his kid died.

The Funeral

The third official event scheduled, the funeral was an event to remember Tilin, Trump and Juanaflippa. Slimecicle watches from exile as the other parents of the dead kids speak.

Mariana tries to blow up the chapel and everyone in it. He was stopped.

They all go to the graveyard after, where the cameras are destroyed (Max thought they were from the census bureau), and Osito Bimbo appears.

Osito leads the parents to a place, much like a limbo, where they can see their dead eggs one more time. Charlie comes back from exile for this.

Bad and Spreen fight lmao

As a result, Quackity asks Charlie to fight, and Charlie lets him win.

Wilburs return/Tallulah

I think he technically came back a bit before the funeral

But when Wilbur returns after being on Tour, him Fit and Phil go to the adoption center and check the attic.

They find an egg, Tallulah, and Wilbur adopts her.

They spend the day making the house, when Quackity comes up to him

Quackity thinks Wilbur is the father of Tilin, so they have a whole argument, and Wilbur goes to Tilins grave.

They end on decent terms, but later on Quackity insists on taking care of Tallulah, calling her his adoptive daughter, etc. Even when Phil is taking care of her. You see this become a bigger issue in recent streams

The Rise of Gegg

Charlie Slimecicle, grief-ridden and poor, makes a plan with Quackity to make a fake egg to rob people. It quickly gets out of hand.

Charlie morphs into a green, squishy egg and is found In a room in the adoption center. By using the excuse that Charlie is in exile, and with this egg acting like a regular egg, Gegg is now created.

Quackity adopts Gegg but quickly abandons him, so Gegg has to interact with others for help

Not many people really like Gegg. But Charlie is committed to the bit. He is Gegg now. Gegg is real. Gegg has taken over Charlie. Gegg. Gegg. Gegg.

Six Days.

The members get a video stating that in six days, their eggs will die. There is also a secret code in the video that hasn't canonically been solved

Panic and disbelief obviously happen, and parents take the time to take care of their kids and do extra events with them.

The night before the sixth was very emotional.

Parents wake up to their kids being gone, and the Brazilians coming in the ship.

Other points I couldn't fit in:

There are so many relationships, flirting and cheating that there's no way for me to list them all. But it does create drama. This is gay island at this point. LGBTQsmp.

The mobs are progressively getting stronger and harder, with new strange mobs appearing

The Code Monster, as we see more of now, attacked Phil before he and Fit killed them.

Roier becomes a psychologist and also has a female counterpart named Melissa.

There are some cases where people have "Nightmares," aka noncanon egg deaths. Sometimes there's a mob that is uneccessarily strong, lag happens, or other circumstances that lead them to giving the egg their life back and the event being retconned. Examples of this are Chayanne and Tallulah, Dapper, and Bobby

Luzu has a whole arc about being like, a robot? Arin? But I'm not caught up on that. Someone help

Bad is often the designated babysitter for eggs, followed by Phil

Maximus is actually a really fucking good actor and won awards for roleplaying. Fun fact

Maximus had a chess match with Osito Bimbo, which ended up in Osito giving him information.

I'm going to tell you right now, I could probably make a whole other list of running inside jokes

Quackity is canonically two people. English Quackity and Spanish Quackity

Roier got stabbed by Spreen with the help of Quackity, and is now looking for revenge

Check out clip channels/tiktoks for fun stuff. There's some blogs here too!

Hope this helped some, Anon! I know this is a big read but I hope you can at least scan and understand. If anyone has anything to add please reblog!

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randomnameless · 7 months ago

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The thing is, in JRPG's churches were originally a good thing. They were the place to go to heal, revive or remove curses from your characters and at times the player character was chosen by some deity. Just look at the Dragon Quest games, which are to the Japanese the definition of fantasy much like LotR is in the West. While there was the SMT franchise, in Breath of Fire 2 on the SNES the Church being bad was meant to be a twist because it went against the perception of Churches in RPGs. Later on, Final Fantasy Tactics and especially Final Fantasy X made it a lot more common.

If you ever want to see a really cool take, Breath of Fire 4 really depicts humans as bastards and the gods/dragons are beings they called down to their world against their will. It ultimately ends with the player being given a choice whether humans are worth saving, either playing as the final boss and wiping out the party or rejecting that, stopping the final boss. The final boss wants to wipe out humanity because, while he was benevolent, the atrocities he's seen humanity commit (in order to kill him so the current emperor can maintain power of the empire the final boss founded) turned him against them. And even then, when defeated his belief mankind doesn't need gods anymore results in the gods, summoned against their will to serve humanity, return to their home while the MC becomes mortal (while another god remains, and this was a prequel to the previous games where she was a party member or at least an ally). But then again, one of the villains is still around and he says he can make as many "gods" as he needs for his plans, again highlighting how humans are the problem.

Oh I forgot to mention Golden Sun too in the list of games i've played that had that "old/classic" vibe to it and had mostly... churches/temples used as places where you're resurrected or purify curses without any "gods bad" - the closest thing to a God this verse has is actually a giant rock trying to prevent people from destroying themselves by sealing magic (sure, at the cost of the world and its people disappearing into nothingness, but the sequel basically proves him, sort of, right because when magic is unleashed the cast was manipulated into launching a WMD and that has several consequences like, a lot of people (even named characters!) dying, cute NPCs and to make it sting even more, you can interact/talk with the corpses of the people who died (basically their spirit hasn't left yet, and you have some NPC going all "I was living my regular life, then I heard a sound and now I'm like this, what happened?")).

I'm sure some people already thought about it more than me at 10pm lol, but basically, I wonder if those games emphasis on "humans can be shitty themselves" wasn't tied to a certain mindset that was prevalent in the 80-90-00s Japan, like humans do their shitty stuff, which summons/results in a "higher being" either punishing them or being a consequence for their shitty stuff, "higher being" must be convinced that humanity can change and thrive to do better, rinse and repeat.

I confess I've never been a fan of the FF franchise nor followed it at all but basically as @zeroabyss said, in the Tales franchise the various Churches/Gods (Spirits the Tales verse!) are more nuanced, you have corrupt/shitty people, nice people, etc etc.

Xillia had the novelty of the protag choosing to become God, because the current one shits on humans (because humans shit on spirits to survive!) when basically God should protect both humans and spirits and thanks to a McGuffin everything works out in the end ! Until Xillia 2 happens, but the second opus, while dealing with spirits and all, also gives more meat to the "how humans try to live together" angle and well, it's not all roses and sunshine - sure some spirits can be asses and not like humans that much, but even humans themselves, because they come from different countries, find ways to hate each other (there's even a subquest where you pwn a bunch of racists civilians/NPCs turned enemies for this special fight that are named "drunken man" "uptight girl" "crabby old lady" "self righteous man" etc etc lol)

#fantasyinvader #maybe it's a thing with different studios developping different things?#Isn't FF a Squenix franchise or something?#TS was bound to follow it lol

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ask-fantasy-sanders-sides · 4 years ago

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Well ain’t that one hell of a wake up call :)

They all settle into Virgil’s room, sitting on the circular mattress of foreign, soft material.

After Roman sets him down onto the bed, Virgil pulls him down by the arm, manhandling him into a seated position so Virgil can drag himself into his lap. This is not the first time he’s done this, but it still makes Roman blush. (And, the whispers taunting him with the possibility of it being a romantic gesture are not helping, in that regard)

“So, we need to talk about what happened last night.” Logan asserts aloud, knocking Roman back out of his flustered headspace.

“First, how did you two get so hurt so quickly??” Patton frowns, “I know we were in dangerous territory, but I was only separated from Virgil and Logan for a few minutes!”

Then, an onslaught of whispers explaining the situation.

Roman catches bits and pieces where he is mentioned, though he wishes he could block his ears to it and pretend the whole thing never happened…

“Roman, is that true?” Patton gasps, clutching the sleeves of his cardigan. Roman hates the look on his face �� some horrible, gut-wrenching mix of pity and horror — but he doesn’t look away. A Paladin faces the consequences of his actions.

Roman nods,

“It…was my fault. I’m sorry.”

Roman is keenly aware of the shift against his chest, of Virgil’s gaze on him, but he can’t look down to meet his eyes. He barrels on, unable to stop his rambling,

“I was being reckless and petty. I put all of you in danger, and I nearly got everyone killed. I-…I killed—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Virgil grumbles, glaring up at him. Roman snaps his jaw shut, surprised.

(I mean, he had expected Virgil to be angry with him, but that isn’t exactly the sentence Roman had been anticipating.)

“Pardon?”

“I said shut up! Gods, do you actually believe that?!” Virgil frowns, “That wasn’t your fault. You didn’t put anyone in danger.”

“I beg to differ.” Logan frowns, and Virgil’s icy glare immediately snaps to him while Roman’s heart turns to stone and drops to his stomach. This was a reaction he had been expecting, but that didn’t make it feel any better.

“If he hadn’t ran off on his own on some ridiculous quest to slay a monster, none of that encounter would have happened. He snuck away in the middle of the night to confront her after repeatedly being advised against it. He shouldn’t be surprised that the situation went downhill from there.” Logan chides, “He was being foolhardy.”

“Yeah, running off on his own was stupid, but that doesn’t make what happened afterward his fault! It’s not like he could help it!” Virgil snaps, “And he wasn’t the only one being reckless! Don’t think it escaped my attention that you went hunting around for hag’s eyes instead of the rest of the group! —And you voluntarily made a deal with that bitch!”

“There were no better ways to resolve the situation at my disposal. Roman had a brainslug!”

“Yeah, and you sound like you’re blaming him for it!”

Logan is caught off guard at that.

He turns to Roman, eyes wide, though his frown is still present. Roman shrinks a little under his stare, and Virgil squares his shoulders, putting himself between the two.

Roman realizes with a start why Virgil had seated them the way he did; he’s made himself into a barrier.

“It’s okay. I get it!” Roman interjects, trying to sound less crushed than he is to get Virgil to back down. He doesn’t want a fight to break out here.

“No, Roman, wait.” Logan pinches the bridge of his nose, swearing under his breath in Elven, “It wasn’t my intention to imply… —You should take responsibility for running off without a word, because that was irresponsible of you!”

Roman nods, waiting for the kick… But, instead, Logan gives Roman a soft look. Roman is almost certain he hates this pseudo-guilt more than the anger.

“You put yourself in danger. That is what I was trying to say.” Logan sighs.

“I am angry with you for that, but I don’t blame you for what happened to you afterwards. Or Virgil. That was not your fault, that was the Coven’s.”

…Roman isn’t quite sure he agrees with that, but he gets the distinct impression Virgil will yell at him if he disagrees, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Patton gives Logan an encouraging smile, then reaches over to pat Roman’s leg, sighing,

“Roman, I love that you’re courageous and gallant and all, but you worry us to death when you go out picking fights you aren’t ready for! Logan was scared for you. We all were.”

“I know why you did it, but you can’t do that again, man.” Virgil nods, deflating slightly. He and Logan share an exhausted look, and luckily, neither of them seem to be angry at the other about the miscommunication. (That’s good, because if Roman had found himself secondhand ruining their friendship, he would cry.)

“I wish I could promise that I won’t.” Roman frowns, feeling ice run through his veins as he awaits their response, “—I mean, I won’t go running back to her any time soon, but if there’s some other menace out there that I am prepared to handle… I mean, protecting people from evil is my duty, I can’t just let those things be! I tried to warn you before, but I really can’t just leave it alone if I know I could solve the problem!”

“I’m not asking you to leave it alone.” Virgil groans the words like it pains him, (and honestly, it probably does,)

“But I am telling you not to go alone. Not again. We go together, so you don’t end up dead and alone in the woods somewhere.”

“Agreed!” Patton grins, and Logan nods,

“If we can’t stop you, at least let us keep you from getting yourself killed in vain.”

Roman feels a familiar warmth bubble up in his chest, with the two of them smiling at him like that. He’s not sure if he wants them putting themselves in danger to help him, but damn if he’s not flattered by their loyalty; he wants nothing more than to embrace it.

So, Roman nods, barely suppressing his own smile of relief.

“Now, what happened after that?” Virgil frowns, leaning his head back against Roman’s shoulder and closing his eyes. His breathing is deep and shallow; he’s trying to get as much essential conversation in as he can before he passes out again.

“You revived me. —Are you guys okay?! No one here hurt you, right?”

“No, we’re fine~! Some dirty looks, but that was it.” Patton smiles, reaching over to hold Virgil’s hand.

“We were led here by soldiers who recognized you.” Logan explains, “They led us to your Empress, and she and your Lady helped us with the ritual. The Empress called Eilistraee for aid, and we discussed your…situation.”

Virgil groans and covers his face with his hand, “Please tell me you didn’t embarrass yourselves in front of them.”

“On the contrary, I think our conversations were very enlightening!” Logan smiles, completely missing the point. “I have a better idea of what you will require going forward, for our classes. …Though, Eilistraee suggested that we should also find you a Sorcerer for mentorship. And, she had implied that one would find us promptly..?”

Virgil snaps to attention. He uncovers his face and nods,

“I know a guy. He’s looking for me. If we’re going to be sitting ducks here for a while, while my body remembers how to function, he should catch up to us. I, uhh…”

Virgil coughs, his voice quieting slightly, “I think you guys already…know each other? His name’s Dee?”

Hearing the poorly disguised excitement in his voice at the idea, Patton and Logan both try not to look agitated… Roman seems pleased, though, and smiles,

“Mama needs me and Remus to meet her in town, so our groups were going to be converging at some point, anyway! —I told you guys it was fate that we should meet~!! Everything’s coming together!”

“Wait, I thought Dee was a wizard?” Patton frowns, and Virgil shakes his head,

“No, that’s a cover. —If we’re all going to be working together, you should probably get used to the idea of him being less than honest. Almost everything that comes out of his mouth is total bullshit.”

“Oh, we are well aware.” Logan grumbles.

“Wait, before we get too far from the subject,” Patton frowns, and Roman doesn’t like the sad look returning to his face one bit, “…What were you talking about, before, Ro? ‘Petty?’ What made you sneak off like that?”

Roman blanches.

Virgil must feel him stiffen — or maybe he remembers their short, incredibly one-sided conversation in the woods — and speaks up in his stead,

“That wasn’t his fault, it was mine. We were going to wind up there regardless.”

...And, once again, he has completely astounded Roman. He needs to stop expecting things from this man.

“How is that possible?” Logan frowns, just as confused.

“It’s a long story I’m too tired to be embarrassed about…” Virgil shrugs,

“I made a deal with Granny a few years ago, to save a bystander. She said she would spare their life, but I would owe her one the next time I returned to her wood. The next time I saw her, she would take a member of my party.”

“What?!” Patton and Roman yell in unison, and Virgil’s ears flatten to his head for a moment as he frowns in distaste.

“And you didn’t think to mention that?!” Roman whines, scandalized.

“I didn’t expect you to run off!” Virgil elbows Roman in return, then looks up at him, “…And…I didn’t want you to think less of me. For taking the easy way out… That was before I got all fucked up. Honestly, I could have killed her if I wanted to, and been done with all of this. But I was too scared. I’m not…like you.”

There is an unexpected, strikingly soft tone to his voice as Virgil admits this. He seems surprised by it himself, after it’s out in the air. Virgil quickly barrels forward, waving his hand dismissively,

“Honestly, I’m relieved the one she meant was mine. I would have felt bad if I had gotten someone else damned for my mistake. —It doesn’t matter now, anyway. She killed me; she got her reward.”

“Not quite,” Logan frowns, “We had to break her claim to revive you. Logically, that should mean the deal is broken, but she may not see it that way. In fact, I would bet that she still considers you to be in debt.”

“Well, good thing none of us plan on going back into her territory!” Patton smiles, with a less than pointed look at Roman. Roman blushes and nods, but Virgil’s gone stock still.

Roman hears his breathing quicken, and though he can’t see his face, Roman can see the slight yellow glow reflecting on his white hair. Virgil grips Roman’s arm, claws digging painfully into his skin,

"Oh my god. Annie.” Virgil whispers fearfully.

An onslaught of whispers hits them then, warning of some giant wolf called Jasper (Roman thinks he remembers Virgil mentioning someone like that before, but he wasn’t paying attention) who is apparently gunning for their little nereid. Patton and Roman both pale as Virgil starts to ramble,

“Annie! Oh my god, she’s gonna kill her! Fuck!! No, no—”

“No, she won’t.” Logan promises sternly, a flash of magic in his eyes when he speaks. He lays his hand over Virgil’s, and Virgil relaxes his grip, but only slightly.

“I am going to go get her.”

“What did we just say about splitting up?!” Virgil hisses, the Calm Emotions charm just barely keeping hold on him. Logan shakes his head,

“This is different, and you know that. I am not sneaking off without a word, and we don’t have another option. You are too weak to travel, and if we wait any longer to cross back into the Prime Material, we may reach her too late. Besides, I am the only one of us who can ferry messages back and forth, and I can only do that from outside of the city.”

Roman is aghast at this, and shakes his head vehemently,

“Then I’m coming with you!”

“No you are not!” Logan and Virgil both say — or shout, in Virgil’s case — at once. Logan elaborates first,

“You are also too weak to travel, and you two are the only ones of us who have encountered Jasper! He would sniff you out immediately.”

“You’re the weakest and slowest member of our party, and he’s a wolf shifter!” Virgil shakes his head, “He’ll still hear you, and he’ll hunt you down like a newborn deer!”

Logan smiles at him. Roman assumes he’s trying to be soothing, but he knows that mad scientist glint to his eyes when he sees it…

“Not if I cast Silence. Besides, he has no reason to suspect me more than any other townsperson, and the Hag only has her power over the town because she pretends to be their protector. He wouldn’t be allowed to kill citizens at random.”

“Then it’s settled! Me and Logan will get Annie.” Patton nods, and Roman whines. Logan and Virgil look no less pleased.

“You will be going nowhere!” Logan frowns, “I can’t allow you to put yourself in danger any more than Roman or Virgil. You are still…ill.”

“Oh, you did not just pull that card!” Patton gasps, slapping Logan’s arm, (He pulls it, of course, but it still hurts a little,)

“I’ve been doing just fine this entire trip, and I am a grown man! I can handle being ‘a little ill’!“

“Patton, I didn’t mean to—”

“You invited me on this whole adventure because you needed protection, and you knew I could keep us both safe!” Patton huffs, furious, “The last time I split from you three, one of you ended up dead. None of us are going on any side quests or rescue missions solo anymore! I’m coming with you, and that’s the end of it!”

“Yes, fine, alright.” Logan sighs, knowing he isn’t going to win this one. This just makes Roman more upset, and he shouts in frustration,

“No! You two aren’t going anywhere without me!”

“That’s rich.” Logan notes offhandedly, and wow, that stings, but Roman doesn’t have time to be sad about it, because they aren’t listening,

“I mean it!” Roman demands desperately, trying his best to convey how serious he is without giving up his secret, “You can’t go anywhere I can’t follow you— I can’t protect you! You can’t leave me behind, I’m coming with you!”

“No!” Virgil demands again, shaking his head and redoubling his grip on Roman’s arm. It hurts a lot, but Roman is suddenly more concerned with the near-delirious look on his face. His eyes are starting to glow again as he works back up into a panic,

“No, Roman, you can’t! Not ag— Not all of you.” Virgil shakes his head, closing his eyes tight when he feels the sparks starting to build there. His tone is rushed and shaken, like he’s trying to make sense of his thoughts as he says them aloud,

“You’re hurt too, and you still don’t know how to use your sword! You won’t make it out there! You can’t leave me alone, If you leave I’ll— I need you to stay here!”

…Okay, there is definitely something wrong here. But still, Roman feels that all-too-familiar tug at his core at Virgil’s last statements…

Roman looks up between Logan and Patton for a moment.

They look just as confused and distressed as Roman is, but under that, they…really do look well rested. And he’s seen them in action before; Logan is nothing if not a competent magician, and despite how he looks, Patton is even stronger than Roman is. If any of them could make it out on a last-ditch rescue effort, it would have to be them. With his current state, and everything he’s accomplished lately, Roman’s certain he would be more of a hindrance to the mission then anything… It hurts to let them go, but it’s the only thing he can do.

“Virgil…” Roman sighs, already knowing the answer, “Are you asking for my help?”

“Yes. —I don’t want to! I don’t kn—…I’m sorry.” Virgil grumbles while shaking his head, the picture of contradiction. He hugs his legs to his chest, and his eyes open again, though his pupils are still yellow.

“…Virgil?”

“You have to stay.” He nods resolutely, “…But I still don’t like this.” he growls, letting his head thud against his knees. Either out of frustration, or because he’s gotten too tired to hold it up.

“I don’t want any of you to go. This sucks ass. I can’t… I just got back, you know?!”

Patton scoots over and gives Virgil a crushing hug, which he gladly leans in to.

“I know, kiddo. But I’m sure it will all turn out fine!” Patton soothes him softly, “Now we know exactly where to go and where to avoid, and Logan can report back to you guys all the time so you know we’re okay! We’ll just run to grab her and be right back, as quick as we can. In the meantime, you two get some rest!”

Virgil closes his eyes and hums in acknowledgement. After a bit of silence, he grumbles, pushing himself away from Patton,

“Roman, can you get me my bags from that drawer? The first one.” He flicks his hand roughly towards the entire left side of the room (which, thankfully, has one only one dresser). Roman does as he’s asked, watching Virgil rifle through his satchels.

Virgil pulls out two daggers, both wrapped in leather. He unsheathes one of them, to show off the odd violet sheen to the black metal. Virgil nods to himself, then hands one to Patton. He hands the other to Logan, and mumbles,

“Take my cloak too, teach. You’ll need it.”

“What are these?” Patton muses giddily, fastening the blade’s frog to his pack.

“Poisoned. Heavily.” Virgil snaps sternly, “The toxin will only take on the first use, and it will kill on contact. Use them very carefully, and do not accidentally cut yourself with it.”

Virgil leans back against Roman’s shoulder, clearly struggling to stay awake.

“Jasper is the head of the pack, and the one who gives them Granny’s orders. If he falls, they run back home for instruction. He’s grey with red eyes, nearly five and a half feet tall at the shoulder. You can’t miss him”

Logan and Patton nod. One of Virgil’s eyes winks open, under no small effort, to give the two’s general direction a very serious stare.

“If you find him?” Virgil muses, more of a statement then a question,

“Kill him.”

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Game Start

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Rules

Most Recent Recap, in case you feel like you missed something!

Available for questions: Logan, Roman, Patton, and Virgil!

Ohh dear, it looks like we’re splitting the party again! I guess it couldn’t have lasted forever...

This time, though, they’re split into smaller parties instead of solo players, so you will get to see both groups’ adventures!

The only question now is...

Who will you follow First?

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the-modernmary · 4 years ago

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my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 7)

Chapter summary: Your best friend confronts you about your revived relationship with Aaron and how much things have changed from two years ago when you run into the BAU at a bar.

A/N: This chapter is definitely not my finest work, but we get some background on Hotch and reader. The part that is italicized is a flashback.

masterlist || read on ao3

Don't you want to take time and get to love me? We could build a perfect world I got tricks I really want to show you I could be your perfect girl - Wolf Alice, “Your Love's Whore"

~~~~~~~

“Okay, I can’t deal with this anymore. I have to say something.”

You looked up from your textbook to see the disappointed stare of your best friend, Aly, from the other side of the bar. She worked as a bartender, so sometimes you would hang out with her while she was working, maybe do some homework, and she would give you drinks with the employee discount price.

The two of you had been best friends since you were in middle school. When your mom died and your dad went back to prison, you were originally supposed to be shipped off to live with an aunt in another state that you had never met before, but Aly’s parents decided to claim legal guardianship over you, allowing you to live with them. From then on, you and Aly had become inseparable, even following each other to college.

You snorted softly and took a sip from your drink. “Oh boy, this should be interesting,” you said sarcastically, and Aly rolled her eyes as she tossed the bar towel over her shoulder.

“You are acting way too casual about the whole Aaron thing.” You groaned, but she didn’t give you a chance to speak up. “He just shows up out of the blue after two years, and you dive right back in, head first, and act like nothing changed? You’re not even going to ask him what happened?”

You sighed. You knew that this was going to be a conversation that Aly was going to have with you at some point, and you were actually a little surprised that it took her a full month before saying anything, but that didn’t mean you liked it. “Yeah, because the murder of his ex-wife and the attempted murder of his son makes great pillow talk. No, I haven’t talked to him about that.” You rolled your eyes as you finished the rest of your drink. “And I don’t need to. The only reason you’re making this a big deal is because you don’t like Aaron.”

She stared at you in disbelief. “Don’t like him? Babe, how can I have any opinion on him if I don’t know him? I didn’t even know that you were sleeping with him until you called me crying because you thought-”

“I really don’t want to have this conversation,” you cut her off, and you pushed your empty glass towards her, wordlessly asking for a refill. You didn’t want to go through those memories right now. Or ever, if you could help it. “I don’t need to know everything about his life. It’s not like we’re getting married.”

Aly raised an eyebrow at you as she started to make you another drink. “Maybe not, but do you want to? Do you want an actual relationship?”

“No!” you said, too quickly and too defensively, but it was true. You liked what you had with Aaron, all of the benefits and fun parts of dating somebody without any of the responsibilities. But you understood where Aly was coming from.

If there were such a thing as “Build-A-Boyfriend”, and if you were being completely honest with yourself, your ideal partner would probably be a lot like Aaron. More age appropriate perhaps, less baggage for sure, and most likely with a different job, one that didn’t slowly chip away at his soul until he became a shell of a man.

But somebody determined and focused like him. With a soft side like his, and the same dry sense of humor as him. A person you could talk to for hours, who sees you and pushes you towards greatness. Maybe even somebody who makes you feel special because they can only ever relax and be carefree around you. Somebody who just wants to do good in the world and who cares.

Somebody like that.

Aly opened her mouth to say something, but it quickly closed it as she looked at the entrance. “Damn, there’s a group coming in. Okay, I actually have to do my job now. But we will talk about this later.”

You started to tease her until you caught sight of the said group walking in. “Shit,” you hissed under your breath, turning your back towards the door and praying they didn’t see you. “We summoned them.”

Aly looked at you in confusion. “Y/N, what-”

“That’s Aaron and his team,” you whispered, although it didn’t matter much, “and will you please stop staring?”

A gasp left Aly’s mouth and, in true best friend fashion, she didn’t stop staring. Despite Penelope’s invitation a week earlier, you had been able to avoid going out with the BAU team. It wasn’t that you didn’t like them - you actually really liked being around them - but it would have made things way too complicated with Aaron. He compartmentalized even more than you. “Which one is he?” she asked excitedly, and you had to reach over the bar to get her to turn around.

“You’re going to draw so much attention to yourself,” you hissed, and the two of you started to frantically talk over each other.

“Because I want to know which one-”

“- Tell you later -”

“- have to at least take their order -”

“- Really don’t want to see them -”

“- Coming over here now -”

“Hey Y/N!”

You grimaced to yourself before turning around on the barstool, forcing a smile. Penelope was the one who greeted you, but the rest of the BAU had made their way to where you were sitting. The looks they were giving you unsettled you, like they all knew something you didn’t, but you decided to chalk it up to nervousness. Aaron, however, was standing in the back and looking about as mortified as you felt.

“Hey guys,” you said, stretching out each word. You weren’t drunk enough for this. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world…”

“Casablanca,” Spencer noted out loud.

Aly smirked and leaned against the bar. “Y/N, are you going to introduce me to all of your FBI friends?”

You had to fight the urge to glare at her, because you knew what she was doing. She wanted you to introduce her to Aaron, but she was just going to have to wait. “Aly, this is the BAU team. BAU team, this is Aly.”

Aly pouted at you but surprisingly said nothing else. You weren’t sure if you were grateful for that or if it just made you more nervous.

Emily looked at the open textbook that was long forgotten next to you. “Are you studying at a bar?” she asked, amusement evident in her voice. “I thought only Reid did that.”

You shrugged and closed the textbook. “I was studying, but I gave up on that about an hour ago,” you admitted.

“Good!” Penelope said excitedly. “Because if you’re not studying, then you can join us!”

Your eyes flicked nervously to Aaron, whose face was completely unreadable. You wanted him to give you some sign of what he thought would be the best, but he just stared at you, stoic as ever. The conversation that you had with Aly was playing on repeat in your mind, making you feel sick. You didn’t care about Aaron’s past. You couldn’t care.

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude,” you settled on.

“It’s no intrusion at all,” Rossi piped up, and you and Aaron both stiffened. Rossi knew about you and Aaron, so the fact that he was encouraging you to mingle with the rest of the group was a bad sign. “And besides, drinks are on me tonight.”

Aly laughed from behind the bar. “If that’s the case, then she is definitely joining you guys so that she can stop mooching off my employee discount without even tipping me.”

So just like that, it was settled. You grumbled something about always tipping as you grabbed your drink and your textbook before following the group to a large corner booth. You didn’t miss the smirks each of the team members was throwing your way, and you definitely noticed that they left the only open seat next to Aaron. The two of your exchanged tight-lipped smiles as you slid into the empty space, careful not to touch Aaron. This was partly because you wanted to keep a calm and collected exterior, even if the team did know about you and Aaron - which you had started to suspect.

It was also partly because the idea of being Aaron’s dirty little secret right in front of his coworkers was too tempting, and you already had 2 long island iced teas, so you did not trust your self-control.

“So Y/N,” JJ started, breaking you out of your thoughts. You had hoped, maybe naively, that they would just ignore you and let you observe for the night. “Does Aly go to law school with you?”

You laughed despite yourself and you shook your head. “God, no. Although, she did take the LSAT with me so that even if I totally bombed it, I wouldn’t have the worst score.”

“What did you get on it?” Spencer asked, and you saw Aaron perk up slightly at the question.

“A 174,” you beamed.

“Look at you go! You’re like our own personal Elle Woods!” Penelope praised, and your heart swelled at the use of the word “our”, like you were already a part of the group.

“I wish,” you chuckled. “But that brilliant bitch got a 179.”

A simultaneous “Who?” came from both Spencer and Aaron.

“From Legally Blonde?” you prompted, but were met with more confused stares. “The greatest lawyer movie of all time?” They shook their heads again. “Okay, you both need to watch it, it’s a classic. Miss Woods was quite literally the only reason I was able to get through my first year.”

Well, that and fucking Aaron every chance you got, but they didn’t need to know that.

You heard a gasp come from Penelope. “We should do another movie night! We haven’t had one of those in a while.”

Emily laughed and nudged Penelope softly. “Do you not remember the fiasco we had last time we did a movie night? We almost burnt down Rossi’s house.”

Laughter erupted from the table as multiple parties started to talk over each other, and you were happy to slide into the background, making little quips when the conversation called for it. The most surprising part of the whole night was how easily you got along with the BAU group, and how much they seemed to like you. Less surprising, however, was how acutely aware you were of Aaron’s thigh, which was now pressed against your own.

Aaron had stayed completely silent since the time the team walked up to you, and you could only imagine what was going on in his head. This whole situation was probably a living nightmare for him, and you couldn’t say you blamed him. Your choice to keep Aaron a secret from your friends was just that - a personal choice. You didn’t want them to fuss over you or put delusions in your head of a future with Aaron. You wanted to be able to enjoy your privacy.

But the implications for Aaron were much more severe, especially now that you were actually working at the FBI. People would start to question his judgment, whether or not he was fit for his job. They would question if he had taken advantage of you or manipulated you, and that would all be before they even found out that the two of you were sleeping together years ago. He could very possibly be seen as just a high ranking government official who was sneaking around with a girl almost 20 years his junior.

In other words, it would look really, really bad for him. You downed the rest of your drink in one go.

Aaron raised his eyebrows as he watched your actions, his gaze heavy. His eyes ran up and down your body, and you could feel yourself start to overheat. He felt much closer than he was. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you noticed that the rest of the team had scattered among the bar - some playing pool, some ordering more drinks, and some in the bathroom - which left you and Aaron alone in the booth. There was enough room that he didn’t need to have his leg pressed up against you, and he definitely didn’t need to bring his hand down to your knee, but he did.

“So, a 174? Impressive.”

“Mhm,” you mused, keeping your voice casual. “Does that surprise you?”

“Not at all,” he responded, no hesitation in his voice.

His response didn’t surprise you much, but you preened at the compliment all the same. You wanted people, especially Aaron, to think of you as effortlessly successful and to be impressed by you. So you didn’t show them the countless hours spent in the library, and the many all nighters you pulled. You were careful to only show people the parts of you that you could brag about, like your class rankings or debates on subjects you were an expert in, so that it looked like it came naturally to you. So you didn’t look like you were struggling.

Part of that came after your mom died. You didn’t want everybody fussing over you and treating you like you were breakable, so you quickly decided to show that you were independent. If you didn’t give people a reason to worry about you, they’d leave you alone.

The other part of that came during law school. You knew yourself enough to realize that it was probably because of Aaron, and how much he rubbed off on you. You wanted to be engaging like him, to be able to completely command a room without even saying a word like him. You wanted success like him. Aaron noticed that early on and challenged you. He let you debate with him just so that you could practice going against somebody smarter and more experienced than you. And it paid off.

~~~~~~~

You stared at the email on your phone, your cheeks sore from how much you were smiling. You had already told all of your friends, but their reaction wasn’t as satisfying as you wanted. They were ecstatic for you, but realistically, you only wanted the approval of one person.

Your thumb hovered over Aaron’s contact in your phone, debating on whether or not to call him. This could probably be a text, but Aaron was so formal when texting, even when dirty texts were involved. Besides, you wanted to hear Aaron’s approval, and even more than that, you wanted his attention. Even if it was just for a minute or two, you wanted his attention in the middle of a weekday, something you never got.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you hit the call button and brought the phone up to your ear.

“Aaron Hotchner,” came the greeting, formal as ever.

“Aaron, hi,” you started, and you were happy that Aaron couldn’t see the way you were nervously tugging the hem of your shirt.

There was a beat of silence. “Y/N,” he said, surprise evident in his voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is great! I, uh…” You realized that you didn’t have a good explanation to give to Aaron as to why you were calling him while he was at work. “Is this a good time?”

You could hear light footsteps on the other side of the phone, followed by the soft click of a door closing. “That depends on the subject matter,” he mused, his voice lowering.

All the nervousness you felt melted away. “I made law review!” you blurted excitedly. “I just got the email and I didn’t have anybody else to tell. And God knows you’ve helped edit my papers enough, so I figured I’d share this with you.”

You wished that you could have seen Aaron’s face. You wanted to know if he was smiling, or if he looked proud. In hindsight, telling him in person probably would have been more rewarding.

“I knew you’d get it,” he told you sincerely. “Automatic or write on?”

“Automatic,” you told him proudly.

“Congratulations, Y/N. That’s a big deal. I’m sure you’re going to celebrate tonight. It’s Bar Review night, right?”

You hummed to yourself, attempting to calm your nerves. You dropped your voice, adding a more seductive tone. “Actually… I was hoping that maybe I could be rewarded for all my hard work? Please?”

He hadn’t said no to you yet, and you doubted today would be any different.

Aaron chuckled, low and dark. “Mhm, since you asked so nicely…” His voice trailed off, and you could practically hear him stiffen up. “But I can’t tonight.”

”Oh.” He didn't elaborate, and doesn’t have to. If it were for a case, he would have told you. When he didn’t say anything, that meant it was a Haley and Jack thing. Still, you couldn’t help but note the disappointment that bled into his words.

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked, his voice soft. “We could meet in Baltimore. Same hotel. I can make reservations now.”

For the second time that day, you smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt. Attention was what you wanted, and attention was what you got. “Baltimore sounds good. Send me the details.”

~~~~~~~

You mindlessly stirred the ice in your empty glass with the straw, listening to the soft clinking. “What about you? What did you get on your LSAT?”

Aaron thought about it for a second. “A 176. I think.”

A bitter chuckle left your lips and you turned in your seat just enough so that you could face Aaron. You were so close to him that, even in the dark lighting of the bar, you could make out every feature on his face. “Christ, and here I was thinking I could out-lawyer you,” you teased.

Aaron took a sip of his drink — double scotch neat. “I’ve seen the way you like to argue with me. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to go up against you in court,” he scoffed.

“Hm, yeah but you like it when I argue with you,” you pointed out, leaning in closer to him. “Because then you get to shut me up.”

Aaron set his drink down on the table, his face never betraying any sort of emotion. “Come over tonight,” he told you, his voice lowering. The hand that was on your knee slowly trailed up your thigh, his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You smirked, deciding to mess with him a little. “Presumptuous of you to assume I don’t already have plans after this.” You didn’t, and Aaron knew that. He somehow always knew.

In spite of that, he decided to indulge your teasing. “Cancel them.” It wasn’t a suggestion, and he punctuated his demand by squeezing your thigh. “I can help you study later.”

That was all the convincing you needed. You slipped out of the booth, ready to pull him straight out of the bar, but his face gave you pause. “Meet me at my car in two minutes,” he told you firmly, and you nodded obediently and sat back down.

You watched him start to walk out of the bar, only to be stopped by Emily and Derek. You watched as the three of them talked, Aaron's whole body tensing. There was a lull in the conversation before the three of them looked over at you, Emily and Derek trying to hide their drunken smiles.

They knew. They had to know. It’s not like you and Aaron were being subtle. In some part of your subconscious, you were sure that they knew long before tonight, and that this was just a confirmation. Still, you didn’t know how Aaron was going to react. You thought that Aaron was going to deny it, or even end things with you right there. Besides that one office-sex slip up, Aaron had been so careful about keeping you a secret from his professional life, even going as far as asking you to not call his office phone. In a shocking turn of events, he just smiled and gave you a small nod before making his way towards the door.

Figuring that you didn’t need to wait the two minutes anymore, you started to head towards the exit, blushing as you went. You could feel everybody’s eyes on you the whole time, but when you looked around, none of them seemed to be judging you. If anything, they seemed… happy? You were just about to reach the doors when Penelope cut you off.

“Does this mean you’ll start having lunch with me in the Batcave?” she said excitedly, not even needing to preface her question. They all knew.

“Whenever I get a chance,” you promised.

Penelope reached down to grab your hands, covering them both with hers. “Good! It can get lonely when they’re all off saving the world.”

“Hey Penelope,” you started, pursing your lips nervously. “Is this thing with Aaron and I… is it okay? I don’t want to make things weird for your team.”

Penelope gave you a sympathetic look and shook her head quickly, like even the very act of bringing it up made her sad. “Of course it’s okay! Hotch is happier than we’ve seen him in a long time, and that’s all we want for him. He’s a good guy who has just been through too much. But if he gives you any problems, you come straight to us. You’re one of us now.”

Then, without any warning, Penelope pulled you into the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten. You could smell her perfume, something floral and sweet. “Thank you,” you said as she let you go.

“Oh no, thank you,” she retorted, grinning. “Now you go have fun.”

You laughed and walked out of the bar, making your way to the parking lot. Part of you was still worried about Aaron’s reaction to knowing the secret was out.

But when you saw Aaron leaning against his car, and you saw his smile when he looked up to see you, all your fears were assuaged. “Who ambushed you?” he called from across the parking lot, his voice light.

“Penelope,” you admitted, and he nodded unsurprised as he opened the passenger side door for you.

You buckled your seatbelt and watched as Aaron made his way into the driver's seat and loosened his tie. “Are you okay with them knowing?” you asked nervously.

Aaron was quiet as he started the car, so quiet that you thought that maybe he didn’t even hear you. It wasn’t until the car pulled out of the parking lot that he spoke. “Yes,” he told you, and it truly seemed like he meant it. Then, as a joke, he added, “Although, I reserve the right to change my mind after seeing them at work tomorrow.”

“What?” you teased. “You’re not going to spill all of the dirty details to your coworkers?”

Aaron laughed and fuck if that wasn’t the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. “I thought you needed to study.”

You shrugged and leaned over the center console just far enough to press a kiss to his jaw. “I do. So you better make it worth my time,” you purred into his ear, smirking as you watched his knuckles turn white from clenching the steering wheel. “Or you can get me off while I study?”

You thought back to what Aly had said about whether things changed between you and Aaron. On paper, everything had changed. There was no need for secrecy or sneaking around anymore. You wouldn’t need to travel an hour outside of the city just to be seen with each other in public. The unspoken rules were going to change, considering the two of you had broken pretty much all of them already. Aaron had changed, and so had you. It was impossible for it to be the same as it was two years ago.

But as you sat in the passenger’s seat of his car, Aaron grinning devilishly at you, you couldn’t help but think that at its core, nothing really changed.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing #my best habit

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rainbowbutterfrosting · 3 years ago

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The Revived - Chapter 20: Some Light Reading

This is chapter 20 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @dramaticsnakes and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur

Word count: 4,137

Cw: A lot of pain, inflicting pain, tensions between characters, food/eating

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

It was not an entirely pleasant experience to wake up, lying on the floor with his leg in a strange elevated position. In fact, he wouldn’t have been entirely convinced he’d woken up at all, if it wasn’t for the wave of pain bursting through his head. It was pounding, and his vision was blurry enough for him to almost believe he was sitting on a chair, blindfolded again.

There was no one around to punch him though. Just a huge empty bunker, and a smell of scattered paper. He didn’t have the slightest clue what time it was, or for how long he’d slept. As he squinted at his surroundings, there wasn’t the slightest hint of natural light. Just the torches above him.

There was silence.

“Ghostbur?” he said, his voice hushed.

“Oh! You’re awake! Good morning.” The ghost’s words were quick, though tinted with relief. There was something exhausted about them too, however. Wilbur got up from the floor, crawling back to the chair. He sat down on it, getting a better view of the room. “How are you feeling?”

Wilbur cracked his neck, stretching his arms. “Wonderful,” he said.

“Actually?”

Wilbur tensed up, closing his eyes momentarily. He took a deep breath. “No. Not really.”

There was a sigh from Ghostbur, but it wasn’t one of annoyance. It was rather melancholic. Relieved, perhaps. “Yeah… Me neither.”

While the words weren’t exactly good news, Wilbur’s lips curved up just slightly. Perhaps it was just the honesty. There was something silent and intimate about the words, breaking through the silence. The mutual pain. Not that that was too comforting in the long run. “Shit, my head hurts,” he noted, not necessarily to anyone but the empty room, placing a hand on his forehead.

“Mhm...” Ghostbur said, and everything indicated he was feeling it too.

They sat there in a less uncomfortable silence, Wilbur’s limbs heavy, as he looked at his bandaged leg. The regeneration potion had helped quite a bit, he realized as he tried to move it, but he still doubted he’d be able to stand on it confidently. He noticed some dryness leftover from a few tears right underneath his eye. He froze. “Ghostbur?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you… If I cry, do you feel it?” It was a risky and perhaps vulnerable question. The mention of the tears only seemed to make his head pound more. For a moment he was almost thankful everything was far too blurry for him to think properly.

“I don’t know.” Ghostbur said, with far more nonchalance than what was probably deserved, “My face often burns anyway.” He paused, as if he only just then realized what he was saying, “I mean, that’s okay though! It doesn’t feel so bad when it’s on the face anymore.”

The words sent an unwelcome shiver down Wilbur’s spine. He went quiet for a few breaths, unsure what to say. I’m sorry, he felt he should say, but it didn’t taste familiar enough. I can help you, he considered, but he realized it was yet another empty promise. Thank you, he wanted to say, but it was far too vague, and far too broad, and he wasn’t thanking Ghostbur for feeling pain. None of it sat right with him. He shook his head. “Is there anything you wanna do?” he asked instead.

Ghostbur let out a breath. “What can we do?”

And wasn’t that an excellent question? Wilbur closed his eyes.

“Should we… Should we find someone?” Ghostbur asked.

Wilbur looked at his leg. He looked to the books, filled to the brim with information. He looked at the food readily available to him. He bit his lip. “I… I don’t think it’d be safe while my leg is still healing.”

“Oh, right, right,” Ghostbur said, sounding mildly disappointed, but it wasn’t too noticeable.

“There are some books we could read,” Wilbur tried, feeling as if it was a bit of a weak offer.

“I like books,” Ghostbur said, and Wilbur wasn’t sure if it was entirely sincere or not. Then, the tone turned softer. As if a pleasant memory passed by. “I used to write books.”

“Really?” Wilbur asked, tilting his head.

“I had a library! I wrote things down, and I read all the history books I could find. Tried to organize it all,” Ghostbur explained, sounding a little more excited at each word.

As Ghostbur spoke about it, Wilbur found some faint memories in the back of his mind. Organizing books, and writing down new information. Searching for something. “Did you like history?” Wilbur asked, and for an absurd moment he felt like an actor, asking someone if they enjoyed their latest movie. He huffed at the thought.

“I did. I tried to figure out what you did when you were alive. Everyone looked at me in different ways, and I-” he trailed off for a moment, “I don’t know, but I did enjoy reading.”

“I wonder if there is anything you wrote in here,” Wilbur mused, trying to ignore his own curiosity.

“I don’t think so. Most of them were destroyed when-” He abruptly stopped talking, the last syllable sounding strained.

“When what?”

“My head hurts,” Ghostbur simply replied.

Wilbur slowly nodded, not quite sure what to make of the lack of an answer. “So… To pass the time, how about we read some books here? We can find some information about the revival too, and try to figure out how to get you- how to free you, in the process,” he looked at a different spot in the air, realizing there was nowhere to make eye contact with the ghost. “How does that sound?”

“Okay!” Ghostbur said, “That sounds good.”

He could finally get started on the work. It was something Wilbur was itching to do. He was itching to occupy his hands and his mind with something. His mind was still simultaneously going at thousands of miles a second, and carrying thousands of pounds with each thought. He needed something tangible. Something he could keep in his grasp.

At first, he grabbed the nearest book on the shelf. Quite a big one titled “Governments and Communities of History”. He almost dropped it as he held it in one hand, but he shakily moved it over to the table.

“Governments and Communities of History,” he told Ghostbur. He flipped inside and into the table of contents. He skimmed most of it. It started with the beginning of everything and continued to list political parties that he vaguely recognized. He flipped towards the end, hoping to find the knowledge he missed over the months he was gone. His eyes lingered onto “Eggpire” as he flipped to the corresponding page.

He cleared his throat, “Ready, Ghostie?”

“Yep!”

“This section is about the Eggpire. ‘The Eggpire is an alliance between BadBoyHalo, Antfrost, Punz, Ponk, Hannahxxrose, and Skeppy.’ Huh, I don’t really know most of them. ‘The alliance was formed on January 14, 2021 between the founders, Bad, Ant, Punz and CaptainPuffy. However Puffy is the only founder to leave. She joined Anti-Eggpire (also known as Pro-Omelette) due to a disagreement in views.’” Wilbur chuckled as his head throbbed in response, “The second name is way better.”

Ghostbur made a sound of agreement. Just as Wilbur was about to read again, he had a realization, “I think this is the same Puffy from the flower shop, but I’m not sure.”

“I think so.” Ghostbur paused. “I mean, I can’t imagine a lot of people are named Puffy.”

Wilbur nodded, “Good point.” He took a breath before continuing, “The keystone of the alliance is the crimson red egg located in Badboyhalo’s statue room. The Egg is meant to be a source of chaos and a way to subdue the rest of the server. Despite the Eggpire being formed as a military coalition by Bad with Ant, Puffy, and Punz, most members of the Eggpire have joined due to being corrupted by the Egg.”

Wilbur cringed, “Are they that bad at commanding that they couldn’t genuinely recruit people? Wait- where did the egg even come from?”

“I don’t know. Maybe there was a big red chicken that laid the red egg?”

Wilbur exhaled out of his nose to resemble a laugh, “These guys are fucking losers, who else tried to resemble me while I was gone?”

He flipped to the beginning of the book as Ghostbur chided him, “Language.”

Wilbur rolled his eyes, but his headache seemed to worsen from the action, “Pardon my French, I speak it like a bitch.” Wilbur smirked to himself as he heard Ghostbur’s upset noises.

His eyes glossed the table of contents, as he barely focused on the words. He exhaled sharply as his mind settled on L’Sandberg? No- that couldn’t be right. It was L’Manberg and it was long gone.

He flipped to the page to verify it, before seeing the text that he mumbled out loud, “L'Sandberg (formerly L'Puffyberg and L'Puffberg) is a nation created by BadBoyHalo weeks after the end of the Eggpire.” It oddly reminded him of himself. Starting L’Manberg then creating Pogtopia because it was taken away. L’Sandberg was even named in an odd reference to L’Manberg, perhaps he would have to check the place out.

He was about to read the next part as he reread the previous lines. A strange familiarity ran through his mind. “I’ve heard of this Badboyhalo guy, but there’s no way he’s the same dude that would create a nation along with a cult-y alliance.” The only person he could picture as he read the name was a demon that dressed in red and black. He saw him bumbling around the streets with a blue man with shining skin.

While they’d had small conversations before, he wasn’t even a hundred percent sure about his name. Part of him wanted to call him SaintsofGames, which he assumed might’ve been his actual name, or perhaps an older title.

He tried to imagine the friendly demon who cooked muffins on Saturdays being a general, but all he got out of return was the throb in his head to increase. “Have you ever heard of Badboyhalo?”

Ghostbur thought for a moment, “Yeah, I think Tommy mentioned him once? I don’t really remember all the details though.”

Wilbur hummed, “He seems neat.”

“Wilby?”

Wilbur looked up from the book and into thin air, “Yeah?”

Ghostbur whined out, “My head hurts.”

Wilbur nodded, but winced as it somehow worsened the headache. “Mine as well.”

“Do we got any… I don’t know what it’s called but it’s sweet drink.”

At Ghostbur’s words, Wilbur’s stomach growled. “I don’t know, but I’m gonna see if I can find something to eat.” Wilbur faintly chuckled, “That’s probably why I’ve got this killer headache.”

Ghostbur made a small hum of agreement as Wilbur awkwardly realized that he would have to walk to get food. He moved from the chair, hissing in pain as positioned himself to stand on his uninjured leg. He slightly toppled from the unbalance, but didn’t have too many problems staying steady.

“Alright, I’m gonna warn you now that it might hurt.”

Ghostbur’s voice was laced with panic, “Wait, what are you doing now?”

“Don’t worry too much. I’m just walking around in the bunker,” Wilbur reassured. “My leg still hurts so I might fall or something.”

Ghostbur sounded displeased, “Okay, just make sure to be careful.”

“I will.” His eyes searched the room for possible food. He smiled as he remembered the carrots and melons growing downstairs. That smile quickly faded when he thought about the idea of stairs.

He hopped over to the general direction of the stairs, occasionally stopping to maintain his balance once again. At the final step he nearly stumbled, but caught himself just in time by grasping at the nearest wall. He was reminded of the exhaustion that followed his trip to Phil’s house when he’d just returned. It seemed like ages ago by now. He tried not to let the thought linger.

His leg ached slightly as he limped along to the crops. He licked his lips, as he looked at the melons that only served to remind him of his hunger much more. It occurred to him that it had been a while since he last ate. In fact, he had no clue exactly how long it had been at this point, the amount of sleep he’d gotten remaining a mystery to him. Instead of dwelling on that, he reached down at a melon, carving it into several pieces. He didn’t do a particularly great job at it, but it hardly mattered.

He saw himself down on the nearest chair, eating each piece at an impressive pace. The sweet taste seemed to get to his entire body, working almost as many wonders as a potion would.

For a strange moment, Wilbur wondered if the water in the watermelon would cause any harm to the ghost. He couldn’t hear any screams nor pleas, which was fortunate. Being able to consume anything at all was most certainly a plus. To be fair, if the water there was enough, saliva likely would too, and that was a can of worms that Wilbur didn’t have the brain power to consider even the hypothetical of.

Once Wilbur had devoured the entire melon, he felt just a little more at ease. He felt less dizzy, and his body and mind seemed more connected than before.

While the throbbing in his head had ended, he noticed the pain in his leg. He closed his eyes for a small moment as he tried to think of a solution. He did all the medical treatment he really could at this stage. He fiddled with the rind of one of the melons before he realized he could make a potion of instant health.

Attempting to start a drug empire turned out to be helpful after all.

He ran through the materials he needed in his head. Netherwart, blaze power, and a glistening melon. He stood up but his vision swarmed with black spots for a few moments. His stable leg shook as he leaned against the wall. It stopped seconds later, but he was filled with exhaustion that told him to forget about the potion.

Yet, he hopped to a chest near the farm. It wasn’t far away, but the action by itself seemed laborious. He shuffled through it, but found nothing of use. He hopped over to the stairs, quickly grabbing two nether warts from the farm before he started going up.

It was a long process, but he eventually made it up the stairs. He took a shaky breath as Ghostbur chimed in, “We’re still in the bunker right?”

Wilbur nodded, “Yeah, back up the stairs.”

“So are we doing more reading?” A slight boredom filled Ghostbur’s voice, but Wilbur couldn’t tell if it just arrived or if it had been there for the whole day.

Wilbur hopped to Tubbo’s chest before leaning against the wall once more. “Makin’ potions.”

Ghostbur softly gasped, “Oh, I’ve never done that before! I saw Phil and Techie doing it once though.”

“Sounds neat,” Wilbur responded, half-paying attention while looking through the chest. He pushed around some of the items in there before finding three blaze rods with a few stacks of cobblestone shuffled around. He spotted the crafting table next to the chest and he quickly melded the items together into a brewing stand. He held the brewing stand normally as he put the spare blaze rods in his coat pocket.

He closed the chest and opened the one next to it. Twenty iron ore, random concrete blocks, and miscellaneous mob drops. He was about to close it when he saw a yellow shine under some rotten flesh. Wilbur let out an exhale of relief, “We’ve got all the stuff we need.”

Ghostbur excitedly clapped, “How do you make potions?”

Wilbur put the brewing stand down on the crafting table. “Well, you start with oh fu- n! Fun, fun, yes.” He didn’t know why he censored the swear in front of Ghostbur, but it somehow felt better than letting out a curse. “I forgot the glass bottles.”

“That doesn’t sound very fun.”

Wilbur let out a dry chuckle, “You’re right.” Wilbur thought for a moment, “There might be some in the chest next to that cauldron.” His eyes ran over the cauldron that he didn’t even know was filled or not. He pursed his lips. His uninjured leg was shaking slightly, but he didn’t exactly have another option. Well- he could always suffer. Yet that would mean the suffering of Ghostbur as well.

He didn’t exactly care about the ghost, but he generally preferred not hearing his pleas. He quickly hopped over to the cauldron, only to collapse at the wall behind it. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing to any possible deity out there that there was water in the iron container.

He swung his hand inside the cauldron, not daring to look inside, as if the water would disappear if he did. He felt water about half-way into the swing as he smiled. However, the instant he did that, he heard a cry of agony in his mind that instantly made him open his eyes and recoil, immediately taking his hand out of the water. “Ghostbur what’s-” Ghostbur’s previous words ran through his mind quicker than he could even process them.

It- Water burns me. I’m sorry I just didn’t expect it.

As regret plagued his mind, Ghostbur’s whimpers followed alongside them. The whimpers that reminded him of his agreement with the ghost.

W-warn me next time?

Sure.

Although he hadn’t intended to hurt Ghostbur, guilt overtook him. “Ghostbur, I-” forgot about the really important thing that hurts you if I forget! I just don’t care about you at all!

The familiar cynicism made him externally cringe. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I- I know. It- it hurts, Wil.”

Wilbur somberly nodded, “I know, I can’t do anything about it right now.” Wilbur hated how pathetic his words sounded.

Ghostbur’s typical pleas filled his mind before the pattern was interrupted, “C- could you dry it off?” It took a second for Wilbur to realize what the ghost was saying with the sobs intertwined in the shaky words. But as soon as he deciphered it, he immediately took his hand to his pants, rubbing it to make sure most of the water was off.

It didn’t take long for all of the water to be gone as he hesitantly spoke, “How does it feel now?”

“Better than before.”

Wilbur weakly pulled his body up against the wall. He opened the chest next to him to find it was full of glass bottles. He grabbed three of them out as he closed the chest and put the brewing stand on top. He tried to fill the bottles up in the cauldron, but found that his usual method involved dunking his whole hand into the water.

He attempted to just tip the bottle so more water would enter, but upon pulling the glass bottle back up, he sighed. He knew from his early days that you needed a certain amount of water in order for the potion to properly work. Too much water made the solution diluted, causing the effect to be much more muted than it should be. Too little water made your body feel off the rest of the day, assuming the potion even works in the first place.

“Ghostbur?” He felt an odd pressure on his chest as he imagined the ghost’s whispers from before.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve… I’ve gotta dunk my hand in water again.” He could feel the ghost recoil.

“Alright,” Ghostbur took a shaky breath. “Make it quick if you can.”

“I will.” Wilbur exhaled slowly himself. Although it wouldn’t hurt Wilbur, he felt a sense of unease as he quickly dipped his hand in the water. A muffled groan echoed in his mind. He looked towards the other empty bottles in his hand as he slightly frowned.

“Ghostie, I won’t make you do anything, but I’ve gotta ask you something.” Wilbur didn’t wait for a response as he continued, “The pain you felt was from me filling up one bottle. I could just brew with this bottle and drink the potion.” Wilbur momentarily closed his eyes as the words on his tongue tasted bitter to him, “Or I can fill up the other two bottles in case of emergencies. I won’t pressure you for either option but-”

“Wilbur, I know I should choose the extra two bottles.”

Wilbur cringed at the truth. “I mean- you don’t really have to choose that option. We could just start brewing if you’d like.”

Ghostbur sighed, “I can take it.”

Wilbur despised the words, but he responded, “Alright, my hand is going in.” He quickly filled both of the bottles, trying to ignore the muffled scream that ringed in his mind.

He forced himself to block it out as he turned back to the brewing stand, filling it with the three full bottles as Ghostbur’s noises died down. He rubbed his hand on his pants before taking the nether wart he had and putting it in at the top. Only silence greeted his ears as he remembered he needed some blaze powder to power the machine overall.

He crushed the blaze rod with ease, putting it in as the rest of the process seemed automated to him. He barely processed his movements as he soon watched as the mixture turned into a bright red, He took the glass bottle away from the stand, as he swirled the liquid around, watching it carefully. It was almost hypnotic. He held the bottle to his lips and took a deep breath. “I… I’m going to drink a health potion for my leg.” He bit his lip, “It might hurt a bit.”

“Oh.” Ghostbur said, his voice sounded a little quiet, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Wilbur nodded even if the ghost couldn’t see him, and took a large sip from the bottle. He kept drinking, not removing the bottle from his lips. His throat was burning at the sensation. He closed his eyes tightly, feeling the pain spread through his body, as if the headache from before had decided to pound in his leg instead of his head. His blood felt as if it had momentarily been replaced by the burning potion, removing his attention from anything but it. He tried to breathe his way through it, each breath coming through as a quick hiss.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, before the pain transitioned into a comforting warmth. He opened his eyes again, trying to step down on his leg. The pain had decreased significantly. He let out a relieved breath, and gave an accomplished smile. “It’s much easier to walk now,” he said.

“Is your leg better?” Ghostbur asked hopefully, “Are you going to leave the bunker soon?”

Wilbur frowned. He shook his head. “Not yet,” he said. “The leg could still use some time to heal and…” he looked at the bookshelves above, “There might still be some information we can use here.”

“Right.” Ghostbur said, suddenly sounding determined, “That makes sense.”

Wilbur tried to chuckle, though it came out so silently and breathlessly, that it was hardly a noise at all. He took a step on his much more useful leg, feeling relieved as he could walk more or less without limping. He walked to some chests he hadn’t looked at yet, and rummaged through them. If he was planning on staying in the bunker for longer, it would be optimal to know what supplies he had available to him. He was reminded of his exile, before Pogtopia was built, as he and Tommy assessed their remaining supplies, to figure out what they had to work with. His heart became just a little heavier at the thought, and he decided to put the thought away, for as long as he could.

Among the most noteworthy items he found was a clock at the bottom of one of the chests. It looked old, as if someone had forgotten they’d put it there in the first place. Wilbur picked it up, inspecting each side of it. The hands of the clock moved ahead each second, making a rhythmic little ‘tick’ at each step. The sound was comforting to him somehow, ringing through the silence of the solitary bunker.

It read 5am.

It took Wilbur a few moments to figure out if the clock was functional and accurate, though he eventually concluded that it was highly probable. He wasn’t sure when he’d fallen asleep, nor for how long, but at least this would let him keep track of the now. Slowly, he walked up the stairs again, much more successfully this time.

As he reached the bookshelves, he stopped, staring at the nearest empty wall. There was a faint ticking from the clock in his hands, and he felt as if he was staring into nothingness. Staring at a silent wall. A half-bent nail was firmly placed on it. Gently, Wilbur placed the clock on it, until it was hanging there safely. He sat down on the chair, and allowed his eyes to close, as he centered his mind. He had a goal in mind, and as soon as possible, a plan would be shaped from the muddled thoughts.

It was time to get to work.

#dream smp #dsmp #c!wilbur #ghostbur #ghostbur angst #dream smp fic #c!wilbur soot #the revived #revivebur

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percywinchester27 · 4 years ago

Text

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-24)

Word count: 3.5K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Feels, angst, the usual

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: Thank you for all the love, guys <3

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23. I love you <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

You stumbled on to the sofa in a bit of a daze, drawing the rug over you to keep the chill at bay. Your mind was screaming out in a dissonance of voices, all telling you different things at the same time, pushing you to go back to him, to ask him why didn’t he rid himself of a relationship that must have brought him nothing but hurt and pain? Why had he dragged this marriage all by himself for so long?

It was clear as day now- there was no other girl in Sam’s life. Only you. For all your incessant speculation, it had only ever been you.

“Y/N, you okay?”

Meg was next to you, her hand on your arm. “What happened?”

“I’m still married to him,” you whispered. “I’m still married to Sam. Meg-” you turned to her- “I thought he would’ve annulled the marriage. He had no reason to be bound to it. I left him high and dry. It’s the first thing he should’ve done- free himself… but… I saw his wedding ring. I can’t believe…”

Meg got up and walked to the fridge. You watched as she pulled out two beer bottles, opened them with her teeth and handed you one. She took a seat next to you, swinging her arm around your shoulder.

Slowly, you brought the bottle to your lips and took a swig. The cold bitterness of the beer was strangely comforting next to the warmth of your friend’s body. Meg didn’t utter a word. She drank from her own bottle, not easing the grip on your shoulder.

It was going to be a whole new challenge to face Sam now. Up until today you were simply happy that in Sam’s friendship, you were getting back crumbs of what you used to have. To know that he was still very much yours and yet not yours at all was very very painful. Wouldn’t you want to fling yourself at him the next time you saw him?

You wanted to ask Sam why he hadn’t severed the ties legally, but you didn’t think you had it in you. What would you say? So hey, Sam… remember when you loved me so much, but I left you anyway? Yeah, so why are we still married?

He’d kept his every promise, been faithful to you all along. You realised with a shock that you and Sam had been looking at the whole situation from two completely different angles. When you’d seen him in the lecture hall, a part of your past- one which you’d tried to bury very deep had resurfaced again. For him, he’d stepped into a generic lecture and found his wife staring down at him. It explained so much- Why he’d never been as lost to himself as you had been to yourself. You had resented his ability to smile, to be himself while you’d been a wreck all these years. Only now did you understand that the reason he had held on to himself was because he had never let go of you.

Silent tears rolled down cheeks as anger and disgust for yourself weighed you down.

“It’ll be alright,” Meg said in a low voice.

You took another swig, wondering if Sam will ever stop surprising you and knowing once again that you never deserved him.

*********************

“Bad night?” Madison was sympathetic.

You answered honestly, “It was my doing, I had it coming.”

“We’re almost to the end. You can sleep the exhaustion off.”

The two of you were sitting in the front row, waiting to be called up on the stage for the vote of thanks. It was relieving that the Induction fair had come to an end without any incidence- everything had gone as smoothly as you had planned and a lot of the alumni had come up to you to congratulate you for planning and managing it so well. You even had a couple of contact cards tucked in the pocket of your jacket, asking you to give them a call for the summer internship.

Madison was really impressed that you had offers. Summer internships were rare for first years, especially so without recommendations. She was sad for herself that Acton Griswold never broke the first year rule. You encouraged her to use her dad’s influence if it helped. It wasn’t like she would be taking someone else's place. She would only be creating one for herself. To be a good lawyer, one had to be pragmatic, you understood that very well and didn’t judge Madison for wanting to use all the resources at her disposal.

When it was time for the vote of thanks, you made it a point to thank all the speakers and hosts and then your team- each of the members individually for having your back. There had been some wonderful lectures and discussions. You might have been biased, but Sam’s had been the best- it was hopeful and inspiring. He’d looked great on the stage.

Afterwards, the committee had arranged a small lunch for the alumni still left, in one of the campus eateries. There was expensive alcohol and enticing music. A lot of people made their way to the center of the room and began dancing again, trying to revive the mood from last night. On your part, you were simply trying to avoid Sam. You could sense that he was trying to catch your eyes- probably to ask you why you had left so suddenly last evening. Luckily, he was a popular target and people kept going up to him to strike conversations.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, then another at your waist, making you jump back a step.

“Hey, it’s me!” Brad said with his usual arrogant grin.

“What’re you doing?”

“You promised me a dance, remember?”

You wanted to slap yourself for agreeing to it. “I didn’t promise anything.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he smirked. “You said one dance. Yesterday your guy didn’t leave you for a second and then you disappeared. At least, let me have one dance now?”

You knew from experience that he wouldn’t budge, so as annoying as it was, you put your hand on his shoulder- not to draw yourself closer to him, but to maintain a firm distance. If you were going to dance, it would be at your terms.

“Gee, I’m feeling very lucky today!”

“I can’t even dance.”

“That’s fine.” There it was again, the overconfidence. “Hey, listen. Me and the guys and some people from class are having a pool party this weekend. I’ll see you there, right?”

“I can’t. I’ll be working this weekend.”

He rolled his eyes. “I know you aren’t working. I checked the schedule at the library. So don’t even try to wiggle out of this one.”

“I don’t know why you won’t give up, Brad,” you sighed as you moved from side to side.

“Because I know one day you’ll say yes. No one’s ever said no to me… except you.”

“So this is about your ego?”

He snorted. “It’s because I really like you. At least, give it a shot. What’s stopping you?”

The fact that I don’t like you. At all. And oh, apparently, I’m married.

“I’m not interested in dating anyone,” you told him flatly.

Something in his eyes changed, they became darker, his jaw tensed. “Let me change your mind.” His hand pressed against the small of your back, bunching up in the fabric of your dress. The fingers resting against your shoulders dug into the skin. He leaned in quickly- before you could react- far too quickly.

Just as you braced yourself to push him away, another hand landed on your shoulder, right above Brad’s, yanking his fingers away none too gently.

“Y/N!” A cheerful voice exclaimed, pulling you right from Brad’s arms into his own.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” said Chase Lincoln, with the sort of jovial outrage that comes only after years and years of friendship. “How dare you evade me like this, you frivolous wench!”

You were absolutely baffled; next to you, so was Brad.

Chase turned to give him a dismissive look. “I’m sorry, mate,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “I have some business to settle with this girl, here. If you’ll excuse us.”

Without waiting for Brad to react, Chase whirled you away, single handedly managing to keep the both of you upright.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean,” you stuttered, as he spun you. His hands were light on your waist and in your hand- very respectable.

“Don’t say sorry,” he grinned. “I thought you were in a bit of a tight spot over there.”

“I was,” you breathed, still trying to keep up with his pace of dancing. You wanted to thank him for saving you from that, at the same time you didn't want to utter the words because you barely knew the man.

“Look-”

“Don’t thank me,” he cut you off. “It was the decent thing to do. Besides, my friend over there would have snapped a tendon or two, if I hadn’t.”

Chase jerked his head in the direction and you followed with your gaze to see Sam standing ramrod straight, hands balled into fists, jaw clenched. Even from this far away you could see he was coiled like a tight wire about to snap.

“He couldn’t intercede,” Chase said in a low voice. “And I couldn’t help but. Then there’s also the matter that I’ve been dying to get in a word with the lovely Mrs. Winchester. It’s not like Sam can come break us up either.”

Mrs. Winchester. The name resonated in your ears. If you hadn’t had all of the last miserable night to accept that fact, your legs might have just given out now.”

Chase laughed all of a sudden, the sound apologetic. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you or anything. You can ask me to get the hell lost and that would be that.”

“I don’t know what you want.”

At least, Chase wasn’t hurling abuses at her for ditching Sam.

“It’s nothing to do with Sam, actually,” he said. You noticed for the first time just how sharp his green eyes were. They gave you the feeling of being Xrayed. Not many people must be able to lie to him. “I have an offer for you.”

“An offer?”

“Yep. How would you like to come and work at Acton Griswold? It’s a great place to work in.”

You stared at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Wouldn’t dare.”

“I know Acton Gris doesn’t take first year interns.” Not even with recommendations.

Chase grinned. “Who’s talking about internships? Hell, no. You’ll be left with photo-copying and standing in café lines all day. I’m talking about actual work. I had the chance to go through your CV for the committee selection. Come work there as a part-time paralegal.”

“I wouldn’t fit in,” you mumbled. Chase’s words did not make any sense. You had no backing, neither were you naïve. You knew jobs like that had hundreds and hundreds of applications every week.

His eyes twinkled. “Trust me, you would. I could recommend you. I’m sure after more than two years of working there, I have enough pull.”

“Please, don’t.” Despite having asked Madison to use all the pull, you couldn’t bear the idea of someone doing it for you.

“Look, Sam told me that you helped him out with James’s case. I feel terrible about being swamped that day and not being there for him. Even his assistant, Stacey was on a leave. You saved that poor kid from jail.”

You hadn’t really done anything, and you told Chase that. His answering smile looked peaceful, like you had cleared some unknown test.

“Will you, at least, apply? I swear I won’t do anything to further your application. If you get in, it’ll be all you.” He hesitated before adding. “I won’t tell Sam if you don’t want me to.”

“Oh, no… it’s nothing like that. I don’t want to keep anything from him.” Not anymore.

Chase smiled. “Don’t worry, he’s too high up to be involved with the paralegals anyway. Word around the block is, they’re considering him for senior partner. He’d be the youngest in their history.”

You dropped your hands from around his shoulder, clapping them. “My God, that’s wonderful!” The grin spreading on your lips threatened to split your face. “I can’t think of anyone who would deserve it more.”

“That makes two of us.” Chase let go of you completely. “I’m glad he has someone who would be happy about his successes.”

That wiped the grin off of your face completely.

“He’s not the sort of guy who leaves people behind. When he left Johnson’s, he didn’t ditch Stacey, he brought her along… and me. I don’t think he has the ability to move on.”

The words felt heavy in the air between the two of you, and with Chase’s eyes boring into yours it was impossible to look away. He was imploring you to believe him.

He gave you his patented grin, one that said he was up to no good. “And unlike your college here, Acton Gris has no policy against fraternizing. I’ll see you around, Y/N!” Chase nodded and backed away, leaving you standing there wondering what the hell had just happened.

*********************

Sam hurriedly cleared his desk, in an effort to get out soon. Sundays were strictly reserved for Max… It’s a rule he didn’t break, Induction fairs notwithstanding. Those were mandatory for him as a faculty member.

So much for him dreading the Induction fair because it would be boring. Sam should have known nothing with Y/N could be even remotely disinteresting. In the past weekend, he’d oscillated from the nervousness of a teenager to a piercing hope. Today, he’d almost had a coronary.

Sam knew it was wrong. God, he knew it was wrong to want to punch a guy- especially a student! But he’d been touching Y/N… when she didn’t want to be touched. Sam could have sworn, that guy had leaned in with the intention of kissing her. He was almost sure. God bless Chase’s soul for jumping in when he did.

Chase had drawn her in his arms gently, and then turned to throw Sam a wink. Chase was the best wingman when he wanted to be one.

Then there was the new anxiety of having Chase with her. Y/N- she wasn’t like other people. She felt things too deeply and Chase didn’t know that. What if he said anything that unconsciously hurt her… or accidentally mentioned Max or something from Sam’s past? As it is the way she’d left yesterday had Sam on edge.

Abruptly Y/N grinned and Chased bowed just a bit. Sam’s whole body relaxed.

He turned around and headed back to his office in the Law building. Standing there, watching Y/N was only drawing him thin. There were still a few papers he needed to grade and then get back to Max as soon as possible.

Not for the first time, Sam was grateful for Max. In all this mess, his kid kept him tethered. Sam would have gone off the orbit and done something stupid regarding Y/N. But one thought of Max and he was grounded back to reality. Max was his first priority… not that the kid was making it any easy for him lately.

Sam had seen him looking at Y/N’s photo again last night. The picture, one of her standing by the balcony, was taken a few days after her first acceptance. She was smiling down at Dean who was mowing the lawn and Sam had clicked the moment unbeknownst to her. She looked gorgeous. Sam couldn’t bear to see it everyday, so the picture had remained in the first drawer of his bedside table. In his moments of weakness, he could hold on to it and remind himself, something that pure had been his once.

A flimsy material caught Sam’s attention as he shut his desk drawer. Y/N’s scarf from last night. He hadn’t taken it home with him, choosing to leave it.

Maybe he could drop it at her place on his way home. That would be an innocent reason, right? He could ask her what was up with her yesterday. Y/N had been miffed at Sam for not seeing her in the library often. That meant not meeting him must be a bad thing for her. Sam was more excited about the prospect of returning her scarf than he was about most things in his life.

The door to Sam’s office sprang open, making him look up in surprise.

Y/N’s roommate, Meg, was standing at the door, her face a mask of contempt.

“Meg,” he said, surprised.

“Didn’t expect me, did you?”

Her hostile sneer would have tipped him off, had Sam not been riding the high if getting to see Y/N.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t,” he said. “Please, take a seat.”

“Cut out your bullshit, Winchester,” she spat, coming up to him. “What do you think you’re doing making Y/N’s life miserable like that?”

Sam couldn’t understand. “What… what do you mean?”

“Don’t,” she hissed. “Don’t you dare act like you don’t know anything. Every time she meets you, Y/N’s a wreck. When she found out you were the one who got her home that night… she was besides herself. I’ve never seen her so terrified or more out of her element. And I don’t know what the fuck you did to her last night, but she couldn’t stop crying.”

Meg took another step forward. “You think it’s so cool dragging her along with you like this? Why don’t you set her free? Or are you that much of a sadist to see her suffer day in and day out?”

“Suffer?” He repeated dully.

“When I first saw her, Y/N looked dead,” Meg said, fury in each word. “Her eyes were sunken and her cheeks were hollowed. When she laughed for the first time, it sounded hysterical, like she’d forgotten how to do it. Hell, her skin stretched over her bones even when she smiled. I’ve seen her struggle day after day trying to get a hold on herself, learn how to be happy again… and if you mess that up, Winchester, I swear I’ll smash your face in.”

Sam knew he should say something back, anything, but the picture that Meg had painted was too painful… a hollow Y/N, the one that had left him in the hospital. If she’d been the same when she moved in with Meg, how many years had she suffered at the stake of such mind numbing agony? And yet, he had seen life behind her eyes… he’d seen her happy, smiling…

“I don’t know what you did to her all those years ago,” she continued, her voice like ice. “Y/N wouldn’t say, but I know it was enough to kill a part of her. And I know somehow it was your fault.”

“Did she say that? Did Y/N say it was because of me?”

“No!” She spat, frustrated. “I don’t know why she can’t see what you’re doing to her. I can. You’re a slow seeping poison. Just leave her alone. Y/N was happy before you decided to come back and wreck her life again. Set her free.”

Something was choking Sam’s breath, words just wouldn’t come out. Was he keeping her from happiness? Was that why she had fled last night?

Meg jabbed a finger in his direction. “Remember.”

She turned on her heel and was almost out of the door when Sam managed to croak, “Meg-”

Meg looked over her shoulder.

With numb legs Sam made his way to her. “Take this with you,” he said, handing her the scarf with shaking hands. “It’s Y/N’s. She gave it to me yesterday. It would be best if you give it back to her.”

Meg snatched the scarf from him and then with one last look of derision, stormed out.

All Sam could do was fall in his chair, hands raking through his hair. What had he been thinking? What had been playing at? As if there was any chance in the world that he wouldn’t remind Y/N of what she had lost. Of course she was hurting and it was his damn fault, because he thought they could be friends again, because he hoped it could ever lead to anything more.

And there was always Max to think of. Right in front of his eyes the flimsy dream he had brought to life collapsed in a heap of shattered glass. Maybe in a parallel reality somewhere, Y/N would be in his life, Max would be their son and everything would be perfect. This was not that world. Here, Sam was sentenced to live out his life by himself and he’d be damned if let Y/N get hurt because of him again.

*********************

A/N 2: Okay... I’m sorry? *hides face* At least the reader has a playdate with Max!

Thank you for all the reblogs and comments! You guys are AWESOME! I LOVE you <3

If you want be tagged, you can send me an ask or add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

ALLU taglist:

@gabavaldman @im-a-light-child @cosicas-cuquis @bllyjianne @hoboal87 @i-is-for-inspiring @daughterleftbehind @wackiekebab @mylovelydame21 @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @superbadassnatural @babypink224221 @badlittlehabit99 @anathewierdo @sams-bubblegum-bitch @fandomoverdose666 @superstarmarvel @atc74 @aiofheavenandhell @rebel-author-chick @death-unbecomes-you @cookiechipdough @kbl1313 @linki-locks11 @miss-nerd95 @sunflowers-n-rocknroll @stoneyggirl @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @niyahgray @traceyaudette @blueaura @awfulmoons @waterlily502 @mrsbatesmotel53

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader fluff #sam winchester reader insert #professor!Sam x reader #Professor!Sam #lawyer!Sam #lawyer!Sam x reader #lawyer!au #spn fanfiction #spn reader insert #Ana writes ALLU #anawrites #anawritesspn #allu 24 #q

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glacierbash · 4 years ago

Note

i heard something about a lesbian undead cleric 👀

YOU HEARD RIGHT OKAY

uhh if you're a player in the direlight campaign do not read under the read more unless you're the dm in which case. ya know. hi josh

warning it accidentally got long and rambly Whoops

SOOOO okay my girl my undead lesbian where do weee begin

here's a picture I've just finished of her because I wanted to test out a solid line style and i went too far AND I JUST REALIZED I FORGOT TO SHADE THE GOLD ON HERRRRRR

so her name is! Adr Irithyl! She's a Shadar-Kai (bodied) twilight cleric who worships the Raven Queen (who in the world is called Selyn). Before dying and her subsequent revival, Adr was one of many nuns who served to help souls pass on to Selyn, so that the Raven Queen could collect them and sort them. Adr specialized in children (which ALWAYS sounds weird), helping them with a soothing darkness that followed her wherever she walked. She would sit beside them, listening to children tell stories, letting them talk and talk until their lives would end, and she'd usher the spirits back. Specifically twilight, she used the dark as a blanket, blinding the children to what was to happen.

But, one of the children she was around ended up getting her ill. She was only ~150-200 when she passed, refusing to let the others heal her at risk of getting them sick. The only one she allowed was her closest "friend" among those in her specific order, telling her "I do not want my life to go to waste. Use my body as a sign that death is to be welcomed, and not feared, and that reversing it isn't the answer."

And then she died, peacefully, after an agonizing couple weeks of struggling with an illness foreign to her body. She's from the Shadowfell, she's not used to the Material Plane. She passed, and so too did 500 years. Empires rose and empires fell. People lived and she was remembered by her Sisters.

Until she wakes up, 500 years in the future, her body a stitched up, mangled mess, surrounded by corpses of other clerics like her, with no recollection of who she even was. She lays there for over a week, just... Noticing. "I should be starving by now. I should be dehydrated by now. Breathing hurts. I can't sleep."

When she finally moves, she just... Keeps seeing the bodies. Pieces of the bodies, sometimes just skin, sometimes their entire limbs. One of her arms was too long. One had a hand with only three fingers. The stitches on her body hurt, and she was covered with arcane markings she couldn't wash off. Memories would... Sometimes hit her, the strongest being this one woman flashing a smile and offering her...

She could never remember the word. it was warmed bread with some spread on it, but the specifics, she couldn't remember. It frustrated her. It frustrated her so much she went to destroy the entire ruins and kill herself.

When she found a note, on the altar where she had been. It was in a language she couldn't read. And... It called to her. As if it would be an answer to who did this. So, rather than kill herself and return to Selyn, she lead the nunnery, left her sisters, with the strange feeling that she wasn't entirely alone, that no matter where she went, bits of those ripped apart to form her would follow, everywhere she went.

Eventually, she found a town, where a person named Henris eventually befriended her, and she stopped her quest for revenge to work as a researcher in a school of Clerichood, which is where the party will meet her!

The Lesbianism:tm: will be something she realizes throughout the story, as she recalls memories of her "dear friend." They were very much in love, but their devotion and dedication (and Adr being... Scared of that aspect of her) meant that they never grew closer than friends. But without those obligations, without that... Goal? Adr doesn't feel that same "moral" obligation to remain celibate and pure and focused on her prayers. In fact, she can barely even remember the prayers she used to say, relying on an old prayer book found on a body of her sisters.

Originally, Adr had been a soft and kind woman who would give up everything to help others, but now? With the knowledge that, surely, in the eyes of her goddess she's an abomination (a theme among my elf clerics actually, undead clerics who think their gods see them as a monster that sends them hardships to get them killed), she doesn't care. She doesn't care about being soft and nice. She doesn't care about pacifism. She doesn't want to hurt people, but if she saw the man that brought her back and to get him, she'd have to kill one of her party members?

At the moment, I don't think I can say she'd wait.

She's not meant to be some overly grimdark, "oh boo-hoo" character, she literally talks like Miette the cat, regularly tries to eat food that she physically can't since she lacks a stomach, is going to be calling one of the characters "Sea salt" because they're a sea elf (granted they deserve it SMH Cancel Sea salt the Bloodhunter 2021 /j), but... She has that part of her. The fact that she never asked to be alive. The fact that she views death as a mercy. The fact that once her goal is complete, she will kill herself without any hesitation for fear of growing too attached to life.

and yeah im going to give her the comphet I struggled with for years because IT'S MY CHARACTER AND I CAN PROJECT THE STRUGGLES

but all the negative aside she does still adore kids and wears a raven mask (see above) to hide her face so that kids don't think she's scary, she'll give kids rides on her shoulders because she's over 7 feet tall, she'll sit with you all night if you have a bad dream (UNLESS YOU'RE SRIGRALT FUCK YOU SRIGRALT /J), she'll even grant you dark vision if you need it because even if the dark is peaceful to her, it isn't that way for everybody.

But, I haven't even played her yet! I'm switching out my genasi monk for her, and I'm. really excited. Adr is so much more interesting to me because while I made my genasi a really femme woman, I can do! So Much more with Adr! AND I just love playing cleric, like. Hitting inflict wounds on the final boss? MWAH that was a magical moment with my other cleric, and since we don't have dedicated support... I'm not complaining about pulling her out ;)

ANYWAYS thank you for asking me abt her Morgan i have thunked about her a lot, expect an ask abt your githzerai cleric soon because dnd characters are <3

#character study #heeheehoohoo lesbian :)#answered ask #ty again I Care Clerics ;w;#again don't. read if we're in the same campaign please and Thank You #it's weird I can't keep dumping abt her in the tags wild...#BUT that is. That Is Her..#fun fact that drawing was the first time I've put a background to something in months!#tw body horror #tw gore #JUST. to be safe bc the backstory #the drawing isn't bad dw #You can barely even see the [redacted for dirty tag readers]#i ended up just saying words and it alternates between and

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our-wargame · 4 years ago

Text

miss the sun, and it starts to snow

Rating: M Pairing: Oda Sakunosuke / Dazai Osamu Tags: Implied Sexual ContentI...I...legitimately wrote this for fluff week...but it's not fluff. Mutual Pining. I can't even use the fluff and angst tag because it's literally not fluff. Chuuya's a Hoe and Also The Reason I Wrote This - Thank Him. Angst. angst with a ? ending. Ambiguous/Open Ending. Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence. One suicide mention. Hurt/Comfort. But Mostly Hurt Word Count: 2099 Status: Complete AO3 Link

Summary:

Sleeping with someone who cares about you too much despite the warning signs is the most selfish thing Dazai's done in the entirety of his lifetime, and he's slaughtered numbers and brought down entire nations to try and understand himself.

He knows this will not end well. They keep fucking like it might.

The first time Oda Sakunosuke fucks Dazai Osamu, it's a little more than a good decision made by two mature consenting parties. It starts with a slow night at Bar Lupin; low lights, lax words, long talks of nothing and everything. Tonight is not the first time Dazai looked at Odasaku and remembered the stars glittering for them, or the last time that he had thought, maybe the galaxy in its lonesome darkness could learn to live with some light. But it is the first time Dazai figures out the look in Odasaku's eyes, finally registers it for what it is. He breaks off from the middle of a bad joke. With an elbow on the counter propping him up and his chin in his hand, his bangs dance in and out of his eyes when he gives a little shake of his head, a little grin. "Odasaku."

"Mm?" Odasaku's gaze is too warm, too kind. All of his features are even softer under the mellow lighting.

Dazai's grin gets a little meaner. "You should know better than to look at me like that!" Like you want me. "If you were anyone else, I'd have already taken your hand in mine and asked you to come home with me!" His drink tastes like layers and layers of lies. Don't.

The gate's been blown wide open; there are an infinite number of responses that could walk into his arms. But this is Odasaku, Odasaku who tils his head a degree, says, with meaning, "Do you want me to go home with you?"

Odasaku holds himself still, waits because he understands Dazai needs to search him. When Dazai can find nothing in his eyes that say anything else besides I'd choose you, if ever you'd let me, he's a fool for wanting to give in.

He tosses back the rest of the contents of his glass, a mess of melted ice and soft heat splashing down his throat, then rises to a stand. The bar stool shakes a little from his- enthusiasm? anxiousness? Odasaku waits. "I do." Dazai replies, and it is the most honest thing he has said so far, but that doesn't negate that it takes every bit of his willpower to keep holding Odasaku's gaze. They could stop here. They could turn back to talking about nothing at all.

The pressing need to flee battles against the way his chest hurts when he thinks about Odasaku and his willingness to offer a friend the universe.

Shut up. Just shut up. He should stop now. Shut. Up.

"Will you?" says Dazai.

So their first kiss is not preceded by the slide of a grin, the slip of a laugh. Dazai steps into Odasaku's space, a little concerned with how his approach feels like he's threatening Odasaku more than anything else, but Odasaku is already leaning in, slotting their mouths together. And that is that. That is that, because then Odasaku disengages, looks down to assess Dazai's reaction, absolutely overreacting in his care and attention. Dazai stares back at him, doing the same. And then they are leaving Lupin.

The first time Odasaku fucks Dazai, there is a little more to it than what's said. It may be a mistake, because this is not how things are supposed to go, is it? You can acknowledge your feelings, tuck them away, and never bring them up again. You can acknowledge your feelings and choose not to pursue them. But he wants to.

The beginnings of regret, the poison in his veins, is watered down, bearable.

That night, Odasaku part his lips with his own, again and again and again. Dazai's had a couple of meaningless hookups with nameless mafia members before, but this is anything but that, so he fumbles in every instant that Odasaku is too close and yet not close enough. The lingering scent of smoke on Odasaku's coat lights the room. Dazai gets his hands in the thick of Odasaku's hair, presses teeth to the shell of an ear, slides his tongue over steady collarbone, trying to burn bruises there. Sometime later, he find himself burying his face into the warm crook between neck and shoulder, just breathing them in.

Lying in the same bed in the aftermath, Dazai knows he doesn't regret this but he may come to. The truth is, he's afraid of what comes next.

"Osamu," says Odasaku, rescuing Dazai, rather jarringly, out of his own head. "Stop thinking so loudly." It is a request- talk to me.

Dazai closes his eyes. He tugs the blankets over his head, curling his entire body inward, towards Odasaku, but keeping distance. Then he finds Odasaku's fingers, leaves the back of his hand against Odasaku's palm. Odasaku's thumb comes down to tap his palm once, then retreats, because you can't corner a stray dog and expect it not to get away in any way it knows how to. Dazai leaves between two and three in the morning anyways. Odasaku lets him, only telling him to grab an extra coat from the closet because of the cold. This is the little Dazai can comply with, so he complies, he does.

Sleeping with someone who cares about you too much despite the warning signs is the most selfish thing Dazai has done in the entirety of his lifetime, which is really something considering he's slaughtered numbers and brought down entire nations to try and understand himself.

He knows this will not end well, so the only question is if the war he's fighting is between knowing and wanting to believe differently, or deciding who he can bring himself to trust more.

This does not end well. They keep fucking like it might.

****

The first time Dazai uses Odasaku's given name, Odasaku isn't even present. Using it is an accident, the unfortunate result of accumulating far more hours of stress than sleep, particularly the last four nights, which have requested the best of the Port Mafia to meet on each one. More importantly, The first time that Dazai says Sakunosuke, it is not so much an accident as it is a mistake. This means he can bite his tongue all he wants when he realizes what's left his lips, but the rest of the room falls silent with or without him. Chuuya's head snaps up, off of the meeting table from where it was resting in nap and the expression he turns on Dazai is both too incredulous and violent to be a grin.

"What a scandal- the executive sleeping with the errand boy!'" Chuuya gasps. "Does this mean Sakunosuke-"

Dazai plunges his hand into his pocket. Chuuya doesn't even bother with his ability- just tilts his head, lets the entire pistol fly by, clocking the wall and clattering to the ground.

Triumphant. "-is finally moving up the ladder?" Vicious. "The man deserves a different position! It's only right to return the favor...I assume he puts you in a different one every night-"

Dazai contributes a solid effort towards putting a bullet through Chuuya's kneecap. It is a good place to go for, because even reconstruction surgery does not revive that which dies. In the end, their meeting table collects some new scars and the Golden Demon is summoned to hold him back. He cannot be objective about whether it is more for his own good or for Chuuya's, but his partner's sneer is telling, as is the gloat, the edge of his coat flaring out when he shows Dazai his back and skips off.

Dazai not hate Chuuya. There is nothing to be held against Chuuya, and he will acknowledge Chuuya's act of grace ungrudgingly. They're dogs after all. To savage without mercy when weakness is exposed is expected of them. Those who can not understand are driven from the pack and those who teach the law to others walk on. Dazai prefers the stray dogs.

He loathes himself a little more.

For Sakunosuke, today is a visit to the kids. He spends the usual number of hours of the afternoon with them, until his phone rings. The number of people who would call him are few, and the fraction of them who would call right now are even fewer. He knows it's Dazai. Even as he brings the phone to his ear, he knows there's something wrong.

"Odasaku-"

"Where are you," he interrupts, and his voice is rough from the worry so he swallows. Tries again. "Dazai, I'm coming. Where are you?"

"...your apartment. In 10?"

"Be there in 10." He promises. A moment is spent debating whether or not to hang up- would Dazai prefer to stay on call? But the line goes dead and he gets moving. Quick hugs for the kids, his thanks goes to the curry shop owner, and then he's gone.

There's very little that distresses Dazai. With his lips pressed in a tight line, Sakunosuke grips the steering wheel tighter and tries to keep within twice the speed limit. This is his fault.

Dazai's always known how Sakunosuke feels about him, just like he's known it's never not been mutual, even before Dazai said yes, before they'd walked away, hand in hand, that first night. But it's fault, because then he let Dazai drift, walk free. He thought it was time that would slowly pull Dazai into coming to terms with believing- they could make it work. But now he sees what he was extending, what he thought was kindness, for only its flaws. Right now, Dazai does not need Sakunosuke's patience.

What Dazai needs is a reminder. A reminder that he is only everything to Sakunosuke. Even if this does not end well...Sakunosuke is too selfish to want anything else for them.

Racing through the city takes an eternity. He takes the stairs instead of the elevator to give himself something to do, with his heartbeat thundering in his head, but counts to ten, reigns himself in, when he works the doors instead of breaking them down.

Dazai lies in their bed, lies on his side, doesn't lift his head. "Odasaku..."

"I'm here." Sakunosuke murmurs. The mattress sinks a little when he sits on the edge of the bed, his back to Dazai. After a moment, he hears it creak again, Dazai shifting, moving close so he can reach and wrap an arm around Odasaku's waist, rest his hand on Odasaku's knee. Odasaku threads their fingers together. He doesn't know what it is that set Dazai off, because there are too many possibilities. Life. Death. Work. Mafia. Osamu. Sakunosuke. Nothing. Everything. If he could take Dazai's misery and make it his own, he would.

Dazai squeezes his fingers. Sakunosuke makes himself breathe.

An eon goes by. And then another. Humans live, humans die. Someone scrawls down history in letters and sends bottles out to sea.

Dazai whispers, "How's Sakura?"

"I love you."

Dazai flinches like he's been burned. This is the first time Odsaku has said it out loud, but is only cruel for him to give the words to Dazai right now. Sakunosuke relaxes his grip so that Dazai can disengage if he wants to, but this time, if Dazai runs, Odasaku will chase him. This doesn't mean he isn't tensed from head to toe, doesn't have the rest of his muscles locked.

"I love you too."

Odasaku's inhale is sharp. He wants, so badly wants to believe that this isn't a goodbye.

They could run away. Ango would help them hide the kids, the curry shop owner....and then what? Move, pack up every time, word of men in black are spotted some dozen miles away? Port Mafia is ruthless, Mori relentless.

They could part ways. It is- possible- that Odasaku will be allowed to leave the organization and yet, unlikely. Mori is a man of logic. He will find a way to use Sakunosuke up entirely beforehand, or if he is let go, somehow, Dazai will be used to call him back. Neither of them are okay with either of these.

They could die. It has been some time since he's asked, because he's stayed willing to learn himself, and because Sakunosuke still wants to write some day. This must be where Dazai's thoughts go now, and Sakunosuke trips over the same rabbithole. But they deserve better than that. If Sakunosuke is to die, it will be dying fighting.

They could stay. They could live and hurt and die a little and stay.

His ability only sees six seconds into the future. He does not know how this ends. Dazai's fingers are warm against his.

---

Notes:

I'm dying to debrief the story owo.... As an additional disclaimer, I wrote the beginning and middle and end bit in entirely different moods but humor me and pretend it came out okay. [Legitimately Chuuya’s part is what convinced me to develop the rest of it mwahhaa]

*claps my hands* Though it's technically an open ending, I prefer Dazai still holding Odasaku's hand. :) He stays.

Let me know what you thought (tumblr replies yo); as always, reblogs appreciated + hmu on tumblr to talk odazai

#odazai #angst #open ending #reblogs are appreciated!!! <3 #you have no idea how much #like you reblog? and i'll lay my damn soul down for you #i'd write you too

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rwdestuffs · 3 years ago

Text

RvB0: What went well, what didn’t, and all the in-between.

Since RT is making this a bit easier by releasing the complete seasons in long videos, this is arguably something that probably should be done to wrap up the whole thing, and maybe see how far the series has come.

Red vs. Blue: ZERO is arguably the most divisive season of the entire series of the show.

Now obviously, people are very resistant to change, but whereas the prior seasons had change that was received to varying degrees of positivity, it was overall, positive.

So let’s go over some history to better understand what happened.

The main aspect of the original Reds and Blues, intentionally or not, were based off of gaming stereotypes.

It’s WAY too long to describe here, so here’s a link to how it works: [here]

Seasons 1-5 is basically a showcase of these gamer stereotypes. Displaying them as their base personalities and grows them as these new characters.

The whole entirety of Project Freelancer is pretty much a deconstruction of gaming tropes. The AI are Lootboxes that give an edge to a player, they have leaderboards, and they go into lobbies with lower level players to basically flex all over them.

The Chorus Trilogy has an arc deconstructing the concept of these types of team battles, pointing out how it never really amounts to anything except profits for the one side that’s basically the third party (Think Mann Co from TF2).

Season 14 is basically a celebration, so we’ll skip that, but keep in mind Meta vs. Carolina, it’ll be important later.

Season 15 is basically an attempt to revive the series. Maybe a documentary on prior pro players, and how people might try to exploit them, or how people may have lost their streaming careers to some of the players humiliating them, but that’s a stretch. There is no real tie to gaming here, or during this arc. This is where the whole thing starts declining. A lack of actually tying it to a gaming trope arguably makes it much more different than the previous seasons.

So, where does RvB0 stand in all this? Well, it is a bit of a return to form by being a previous pro player wanting to get a new squad, but having to now adapt to a new team.

But the way we’re introduced to them is jarring. This isn’t some episode of DEATH BATTLE. We should get to know who these characters are by their interactions with one another, their dialogue, and their actions. But let’s take a look at what gaming stereotypes we’re working with here. we already covered Florida, and the Director is basically these guys’ sponsor who basically caused all of what happened. Carolina is the streamer who gets mad at losing her top rank, York is the nice guy who probably helped set up other peoples’ streaming equipment and is just a friendly guy to be around in general, South and North are what happens when someone gets a rare item from a lootbox and the other doesn’t, etc.

Shatter Squad, is unfortunately, a lot of repeat gamer stereotypes.

West is basically the dad who is an ex-pro trying to make sure his team succeeds, like Florida.

One is the competitive pro who doesn’t like having her top spot challenged, like Carolina.

Axel is the resident Cool Guy™ whose exploits are told by anecdote or flashback. Similar to Tucker, except minus the sex jokes. Or maybe he’s like Wash, in the sense that he’s an ex-pro who got out of the game but keeps being dragged back into it by other circumstances (maybe financial).

East is the new player, much like Caboose. She thankfully is different enough by way of being the stream mole who helps out the other team by sabotaging the team she’s a part of.

And Raymond is the guy who thinks that all his tech and equipment will give him an edge over his opponents, much like most of the Freelancers who had an A.I.

The action is actually good, except for one scene. The scene where East (temporarily) kills Tucker.

Like… Torrian. Torrian. Meta vs. Carolina is my favorite episode of season 3 aside from Hulk vs. Doomsday, and you have him go down to a dagger? You pretty much animated an epic fight scene with all the Reds and Blues in the RvB0 advertisement that really should have been Tucker vs. Jaune as a means of joint advertising- I’m getting off topic here.

The new characters are also a point of some good and some bad. Obviously, you can only do so much with the OG characters until it becomes stale. This is why Dragon Ball is starting to get boring. It’s also why Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure is still going strong. But trying to diversify the cast isn’t going to go well with a lot of the original audience. The most progressive thing the Blood Gulch Chronicles did was have Church challenge Simmons’ stereotypical comments regarding Donut. Change won’t go over so well with the audience.

In addition, the passing of Tucker’s sword to another character wasn’t going to go over so well without a big fight scene over the sword. Again, Torrian: YOU MADE Balrog vs. TJ Combo, All Might vs. Might Guy, and Blake vs. Mikasa. Out of everyone on that team, you of all people would have been more than qualified to animate a cool fight sequence that would showcase Tucker stopping East from just stabbing him. I know that the research is left to other people, but one of the big things about the characters is that they tanked a bomb worth a few dozen megatons of TNT… And Tucker goes down… To a dagger.

The fight sequences of RvB0 are great. I’ll say that much. But after every fight, I fully expected Wiz and Boomstick to come in and explain why the fight went down the way it did. Though, that may be due to me actually being interested in RT because of DEATH BATTLE… For better or for worse…

The dialogue wasn’t that great though. A lot of the humor falls flat, and the only joke I legitimately laughed at was when a member of Shatter Squad (One IIRC) responded to Carolina’s bold and serious declaration of “We have to save Lavernious Tucker” with “Who’s Tucker?” This is a series where the comedy comes from dialogue. So slapstick and physical humor don’t land as much, and the whole thing of them making reference to their situation doesn’t let a joke land as well as it could.

People are used to the head bobs of prior seasons, so the expressive gestures is super jarring and actually makes dialogue harder because you have to accompany it with the gestures. The limitation of what they had in season 1-5 is what led to innovation. Limits are how you make something extraordinary. So the freedom of actual gestures makes the overall product feel less like RvB and more like Torrian‘s equivalent of RWBY. He wanted to make a bunch of cool fight scenes. Which like… He had the perfect place to do that: DBX. Want a character who can generate a clone and uses a bladed weapon to fight? Uh, Noob Saibot is right there. You could have him fight… I don’t know, maybe Shadow Jago? They both utilize darkness, it would be fun.

Regardless, I honestly hope that wherever Torrian takes his talents, that he’s going in a place that he likes and that can keep him and his family comfortable.

RvB0: It’s a mess, it hardly really connects back to the OG Reds and Blues, and while the new characters breathe a new life into the series that was sorely needed, it probably wasn’t what people expected. This changing of the guard type of story doesn’t really work when the previous guard doesn’t pass down the mantle.

Also, Carolina constantly calling Wash by his real name just feels like some random pandering. It used to be special that you didn’t know what the real names of the Freelancers was, but the constant use of it just feels like something to just be there to constantly use.

But hey, if you liked it, more power to you.

#rvb crit

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mythicalsecretsanta · 4 years ago

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In The Bleak Midwinter (G)

This gift is for: Grace-Anna (AKA @rhettroedits) Seaborne does not particularly enjoy Christmas and he especially doesn’t enjoy being back in his home town for it. From your Secret Santa, Mai (AKA @holdbythenotsharp)

Link to AO3, or read below:

As the insufferably cheery notes of Wonderful Christmastime invade his awareness, Charles Seaborne realizes he has been standing in front of the uninspiring wine selection of an A&C, staring at it blankly for some time. Trying to choose between a mediocre Merlot and quite possibly an even more mediocre Pinot Noir is impossible with the seasonal jingle assaulting his ears, overriding intelligent thought.

To be honest, he’d prefer whiskey, but years spent away from his home state had made him forget grocery stores here don’t carry hard liquor. To be really honest, he could die a lucky man, if he never had to hear Wonderful Christmastime again, he thinks as he reaches for the Merlot.

Seaborne doesn’t enjoy surprises. As a rule, he doesn’t allow himself to be caught off-guard. Some might call him inflexible, even uptight, he prefers methodical and well-prepared. But as it turns out, it’s very difficult to be prepared for seeing a ghost.

He had been on his way to the checkout, before remembering his intention to pick up a proper shampoo to replace the miserable 2 in 1 his hotel offered, so he turns around to navigate back to the personal care aisle. Halfway there he spots the figure of a tall man standing in the middle of the pet food aisle, browsing dog treats. It had been years since Seaborne last saw him. His glasses are smaller than they used to be, with subtle metal rims, and he’d grown a full beard at some point, but there was no mistaking. His best friend from childhood — who he had not heard from for almost a decade — had apparently gotten a dog.

Apprehension and dread overwhelm Seaborne. He wants to run away, but his feet have stopped moving. It’s not like they had a falling out, really. He could probably just say hello, and Roach would probably say hi back. But then what?

Roach drops a bag of treats into his basket, jolting Seaborne back into action. He scurries behind a shelf and pretends to be engrossed in canned fruit until his heart stops racing. After a moment of contemplation, he decides he can subject his hair to the torture of 2 in 1 for a day or two more and makes his way out of the store, stealing glances over his shoulder, making sure he is not spotted. He doesn’t notice his hands trembling until he’s sitting in his El Camino in the parking lot, failing for the third time to aim the key into the ignition.

By the time he’s back at his hotel room, a spartan affair at a Holiday Inn near the interstate 40, he has almost convinced himself the man he had seen was actually a ghost, or possibly one of those kombucha drinking hipsters that had invaded the town since his last visit. What are the chances it was the man Seaborne specifically hoped to avoid this trip?

After watching two episodes of Magnum P.I. and polishing off most of the wine, he’s practically forgotten about the encounter. It’s as if it hadn’t happened at all. He plans to go on as usual, as if it’s just another job in just another town, not the prodigal son’s return to a place that had not been kind to him. That night he has an unsettling dream about being lost in a maze of dark alleyways, wandering endlessly, hunger and thirst eating away at his insides. Just when he expects to collapse next to a stack of pallets in some dead end that stinks like month old garbage, he notices a lonely turkey vulture on a nearby rooftop staring at him with piercing eyes, waiting.

The dream refuses to leave him alone the following day, and gloomy imagery creeps back into his mind as he sits in his car, staring out of the window and across a parking lot at an office building. It’s rainy and chilly, and the windows of the El Camino keep fogging up as he shivers in his seat, fingers wrapped tightly around a takeaway cup of some sickly sweet gingerbread flavored coffee concoction. If nothing else, the sugar and the caffeine should give him energy to keep staring at the building’s only exit. The guy he was hired to follow should be out any moment now, but Seaborne is not a patient man, so he fiddles with the knobs of the car radio, taps along on the lid of his cup after finding a station that doesn’t play Christmas songs and — after realizing the tapping will not keep him entertained for long — fishes out his phone from his pocket. He’s been doing this for years, he can easily keep one eye on the door of the office building and the other on his phone, while he idly slides his thumb across the screen to reveal increasingly inane, mostly holiday-related, updates from distant friends and even more distant family members.

“Where the hell is he?” Seaborne mutters to no one but himself and leans back in his seat. Even after all the years of working in a job with a lot of downtime, he hasn’t learned to tolerate boredom. It still makes him irritable and antsy; like each minute spent with nothing to do pressurizes the anxious energy inside him until he is ready to pop.

After a while of scrolling, he is sure he doesn’t want to see another picture of someone’s child or pet in a cutesy costume or posed in front of a decorated tree in a mockery of domestic bliss. He hasn’t been paying that much attention to the motions of his thumb, so when he looks down again he’s startled to see the profile page of a Jim Roach. After some initial hesitation he browses through the pictures, just to confirm he is in fact still with Gina and they have two kids and a third on the way. There are several collections of photos, of a vacation to Hawaii, of an anniversary party, of their children’s birthdays. Seaborne scours through them frantically, like he’s trying to find something specific, but he doesn’t know what. When he looks up from the device, his is the only car in the parking lot and the office building looks dark and empty.

That night as he sits alone in his hotel room, trying to distract himself from the strange and somewhat disconcerting damp smell lingering in the surrounding air, he googles Roach. For no real reason, just… He’s curious. He finds Roach has started a business selling commercial kitchen equipment, and all signs imply he is doing alright for himself. He lives not too far from where they both grew up and his number is listed. Seaborne saves the number on his phone. Just in case.

When he calls the number the following morning, he hasn’t planned what to say. Indeed, he hadn’t planned to call at all, but he can’t get the number out of his mind. The mere presence of the number in his phone’s memory has been burning a hole through his pocket ever since he left the hotel earlier. It’s still early, he figures. Judging by the opening hours of Roach’s store, he might still reach him by calling his home number. He hits the call icon on his screen, fully aware he has never done a single thing so spontaneously in his entire life. It rings for some time, and he contemplates hanging up.

“Hello?” Gina answers the phone.

Seaborne inhales to say… to say what exactly? His mind is blank, and his jaw is so stiff he fears he couldn’t move it even if he knew what to say.

“Hello?” Gina’s voice is more demanding and Seaborne is sorry for bothering her like this. She’s probably trying to get the kids to school or something. He really shouldn’t have called. Hanging up on her seems more courteous than creepy, given the circumstances. He decides to drive by Roach’s house later instead to satisfy his curiosity about how the man lives these days, maybe see what kind of car he drives, or if he has a pool.

The driveway is empty when he gets there a few hours later, and he can’t see a pool, but Seaborne slows down to get a good look at the swing set in the yard. It’s a nicer model, he knows after shopping for one for his niece’s birthday last year. The house is nice too; it looks welcoming and happy nestled in between others just like it, with their well-maintained gardens marred only by the occasional scattered toy. Roach has come a long way from where he was when the arrival of his firstborn pressured him into accepting a job offer from his father-in-law instead of pursuing a career with his best friend.

The twinge of something dark he felt outside Roach’s house returns to him later at night, when he is back alone in his hotel room. The feeling is hard to name. Jealousy of the pleasant, middle class family life Seaborne never accomplished with his ex-wife, perhaps, or remorse of letting all that between him and his best friend? Sleep evades him as he tosses and turns in his overly soft bed, getting up every once in a while to adjust the temperature, have a glass of water or to urinate. No amount of focusing on his breathing or imagining himself on a tropical beach calms down the heavy pounding of his vexed heart. He doesn’t know what a panic attack feels like, but suspects it might be something like this.

Even three cups of coffee cannot revive him the next day. Exhaustion is like an itch behind his eyes and sitting still in a car with nothing to do aggravates him even more than usual. The insecurity and guilt that had cursed his existence the night before still linger in him, gnawing away at his usual indifference and cynicism. Worst of all, the day has been long but futile, Seaborne has still not got any incriminating evidence against the man he has been following for the better part of a week and he is seriously considering just packing up his things and going back home. What good will it do him, another day or two in this town that only reminds him of his loneliness? As if the holiday season wasn’t bad enough already.

The passenger side door of the El Camino opens, interrupting his thoughts. Seaborne turns to scold the intruder, but the words he had held on his tongue glide to the back of his throat and he swallows them, as the intruder settles down on the seat beside him, arranges his long legs neatly under the dashboard and leans back in the seat like it’s something natural he does every day. For a while they just sit still, air thick with anticipation. Seaborne has no idea what to expect, and the questions spinning in his mind refuse to be arranged to words.

“What’s the gig? Who are we following?” the intruder says. He’s wearing sunglasses instead of the glasses he had on in the grocery store, and he looks a bit like a rock star with his big beard and leather jacket. Or a moron, considering it’s not sunny, but Seaborne lets that slide for now.

“We are not following anyone, dude, what are you doing here?” Seaborne can’t help but feel a little self-conscious about still wearing the same gray tweed coat, now sporting holes in the elbows. It’s still a good coat, though, and he was never one to throw away perfectly usable items of clothing.

“You wouldn’t have driven by my house six times in two days if you weren’t looking for help.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so what are we doing?”

“It’s an infidelity thing… You know, I only drove by your house because the guy’s mom lives near there, at the end of the cul-de-sac. I was looking for him and thought he might be there.”

“Sure. Good to see ya, man.”

“Hmm.”

Seaborne wants to say he missed Roach, working with him, or just sitting with him like this, but it might be too much. They never said things like that before, theirs just wasn’t that kind of a relationship. He suspects Roach is not expecting it either, judging by the way he leans his cheek on the side window, staring intensely at something outside. Probably some squirrels running around in the park across the street.

“So. Still investigating privately after all these years,” Roach says, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Turns out it’s what I’m good at. Or at least somewhat more successful than as a chef.” Seaborne replies. It’s not untrue, he’s made a name for himself and has a steady trickle of cases landing on his table, even if success may be a slight overstatement.

“Questioning the questionable. Missing dogs and eaten flowers, still?”

“Shut up.” A slight twitch in the corner of Seaborne’s mouth reveals he doesn’t mind the gentle jabbing. The years had softened some parts of him at least. He is no longer the tightly wound bundle of aggression and defensiveness he once was. “Still a lot of cheaters though.”

“You know I gotta ask… is the guy at least older than twelve this time?”

“Come on, man!” Seaborne can no longer contain his giggling, and the delighted grin on Roach’s face only spurs him on. “At least acknowledge my lack of mustache first!”

#mythical secret santa 2020 #type: fic #rating: G #gift swap #submission

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ghostmartyr · 5 years ago

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SnK 128 Thoughts

Pacing, I think, is the single most difficult thing to do correctly when telling a story. Out loud or in text, you have to juggle every cue you’re giving off, keep it all relevant, and make it so when things fall into place, they’re falling to the gravity that the story’s been given.

That’s why we’ve got something of a problem in this arc.

I complain a lot, because it’s easy, and this is hardly a flawless work. Organization has also been one of the regular things this series just has trouble with.

Still, while I really feel that the last few chapters aren’t the best way to tell this story, the story chosen is a monster to keep in line.

[insert amusing pre-cut joke of your choice here]

Conflict is the root of every story. Character vs self. Character vs character. Character vs nature. Pick one, then plant the seed and watch the clash reform the setting. Knowing your protagonist often involves knowing your villain.

Eren has always been the best protagonist for this series. He embodies the fury of humanity in an environment that embraces complacency. He is the voice that shouts for people to do something.

Back in Trost, everyone on his starting squad plans on picking the Survey Corps. Because of his constant, unfettering influence. He’s the one who is always reminding them that there’s a world outside that they’re abandoning. He never lets Jean forget it. He interrupts parties with the vocal equivalent of hammering 99 problems to every door.

Eren is one of the top ten soldiers in the 104th, and he makes sure everyone knows what he’s using his skills for. And before they themselves are confronted with what’s being asked of them to join him, everyone in his social circle is ready to make the same choice.

Moving forward is what Eren does in a world that’s been trapped in stagnation. He is a force of change. He is a force of impotent rage in the face of disaster.

He is every reaction the humans inside the walls don’t have, because as a people, they can’t imagine what there is to be done about their problems. Staying within the safety of the walls and limiting their potential in return for not dying a bloody death seems fair, to them.

They are imprisoned, so Eren, our protagonist, seeks freedom.

Being born free is the linchpin of his first successful transformation.

His first rather disturbing act of violence comes from him murdering slavers.

The wings of freedom are the iconic brand of his chosen military branch.

Subtlety.

That’s all very straightforward and simple to work with.

Then we open up the setting, and things are still rather simple, just in a turn that kicks off one hell of a problem.

The world itself is a cage. Physically, in the form of internment camps, or culturally, in the form of how people think about each other and act. There is no freedom for the citizens of Paradis now that they have broken out of their shell. There is just another prison, and a ticking time bomb.

Naturally, in its most basic form, this would make the world Eren’s enemy, because Eren is the champion of freedom.

Only then, if you stick to the most basic form of the concept, the simple answer is that when everyone else dies, then you will have your freedom.

Eren might be the story’s protagonist, but that’s because he stands at the fulcrum of all the story’s core ideas. He makes the rest of the plot move. He is the focus point. He is why there’s a story, and not a jumble of confused, dying people throwing themselves at the problem of titans.

He’s not everything that’s going on.

The world’s cruelty is not what this story is about.

Eren starts thinking about the outside world because a boy shares his dreams of the ocean.

Mikasa takes the time to salute a little girl on a battlefield.

Sasha fights a titan off with a bow and arrow to save one child’s life. She dies because she won’t kill a little girl.

Levi chooses not to revive Erwin so that Erwin can die without being brutally abused as the rest of mankind’s sacrifice.

Niccolo’s entire concept of what he’s fighting for is disrupted because people like his cooking.

Gabi is protected and treated like a child by the 104th even after they know she pulled the trigger on their friend.

Colt dies because of his insistence on giving his little brother comfort.

Reiner’s still breathing because there’s a few little kids he can do some good for.

Annie just wants to see her dad again.

Humanity, as a general concept, begins in an easily condemnable place in the manga. One of the first things Paradis does is send out a large percentage of its citizens to die so that the rest can live. Meanwhile, the only people who do try to go outside and learn more about the world are smeared even as they’re bringing back corpses.

By the end of Uprising, there’s a crowd of cheering people waiting for the Scouts to succeed.

People are awful.

They can do better.

A lot of Eren’s objection to Jean is highlighted through that. He never gives Connie a hard time for wanting to join the MPs. It’s Jean, who’s vocally joining up just so he can take it easy, that Eren objects to. Jean doesn’t have to be a jackass. It’s a decision he’s making.

Jean decides to do better.

In the beginning, people are willing to settle for ‘good enough.' Slowly, as the arcs go by, we approach a near universal take of people seeing problems and taking preventative action.

Here, with the Yeagerists, we come back to the original sin of Paradis.

As long as this one little island is okay, and no one on it has to worry about death, what does the outside world matter? Especially when that outside world has repeatedly promised to kill them? Killing them all first isn’t a problem, it’s a solution.

Samuel’s there at the start of Trost.

Sasha saves his life.

Connie kills him.

They don’t hate each other. Neither one wants to pull the trigger. But Samuel is willing to see the rest of the world die if it means keeping Paradis safe. Connie isn’t.

Over and over, the cycle plays out the exact same way. People kill each other to free themselves. As long as there’s always an Us vs Them dynamic, the bloodshed continues indefinitely. The Eldian Empire enslaved the world through titans. Marley won its freedom and decided it was okay to do the same thing as long as they only enslaved Eldians.

The methodology is what’s going to fuck everyone over in the end.

During Uprising, it is routinely discussed that it’s possible the royal family and the upper brass do know something that makes a coup a bad idea. It’s possible that overthrowing them will bring Paradis into an even darker landscape.

What it comes down to is that whatever they know, they’re willing to let everyone else die if it saves their own skin.

Since that particular Everyone Else is united, the coup continues, and the island’s given its chance at actual peace.

Now, the Yeagerists are making that same argument.

Meanwhile, before we were dealing with this, we had Zeke. His argument was that seeing as the world would never change, Ymir’s people were all cursed and damned, it is for the best of all of us if we all die.

He’s the ultimate counter to Eren. Eren is fighting for life, while Zeke is only searching for the best death.

Only by all appearances, Eren’s fight has landed him in the exact same place. It’s only the question of which people are dying.

Getting back to Connie and Samuel, if you squint, Connie is betraying his allegiance to his comrades. ...If you squint. I know he feels that way, and I know what the chapter title is, but the Yeagerists are a genocidal cult who bully their way into power and try to kill off their actual Commander, who Connie is still following.

Samuel might not be aware of that, but that’s what we’ve got.

The closest Connie came to betrayal was throwing a Warrior Candidate into his mom’s mouth, and we wrapped up that subplot.

Without squinting, Samuel is betraying the ideals that Connie chose the Survey Corps for. Connie wants to save people. He doesn’t want all this death, regardless of how it benefits him.

So this whole conflict, throughout this entire chapter, is really all about who wants which people dead.

The Warriors are still fighting for Marley. Despite everything, that’s their home, and their base of operations if they ever want a chance at fixing things. Paradis has more friends on it than they like thinking about, but Paradis is not their problem.

Kiyomi and the Hizuru flock are pretty much... she is just so done, and it’s very easy to see why. This is not their war. They were looking for a beneficial partnership. For power and resources, sure, but they were willing to play ball. Now they get to watch as the nation they helped kills off the world and their only allies are rushing them to a basement. Hopefully to do something significant before their country burns.

What’s left of the Scouts who are actually following the legitimate chain of command is, surprisingly, focused on stopping Eren’s genocide.

Then I guess the rest of the world probably has opinions, but they don’t get any pages. But it’s pretty safe to assume Eren’s high on their ‘want dead’ list. If not all of Paradis.

We’ve got one group of people who are actually, actively, doing the anti-genocide thing.

The rest is just fighting over the biggest piece of the pie.

The conflict is that some people think genocide is bad, and some people think genocide is okay, actually.

And, you know, fine.

Only then we have Eren.

Protagonist boy.

We don’t know his conflict, and he has more power than anyone else in the entire cast. Unless we count the primordial ooze as a cast member. He is a giant stegosaurus monster who has threatened the entire world, and as far as anyone with eyes can see, he’s actually going through with it.

Nothing presented anywhere suggests that there is a way to stop him.

At best, if people succeed in killing him, they will have unleashed a bunch of mindless Colossals into the world. If we revisit our volume 1 knowledge, we know this to be a problem.

Making all of this really, really pointless.

Obviously, this is what all these characters would do in this situation.

Obviously, we have some feelings about them being forced to kill their allies while the world falls apart.

Obviously, the author probably being willing to fast-forward through all of this is not necessarily an indication that that is what creates the optimal story.

Obviously, these are important details.

The plot still might as well be a glacier.

There is one person moving pieces around. Everyone else is just scrambling on the board he’s created and rehashing whether or not genocide is a good thing every time they’re considering shooting someone they kind of don’t want to.

All of the tension is literally an ocean away.

As great as the character moments are, there’s nothing to ground them in. There’s just a baseless hope that somehow, there’s a way out of this, and the story doesn’t end with yet another genocide kicking off a rebellion.

Magath flips on his worst hot take immediately. He does that because his country is dying and it’s reorganizing his priorities and beliefs to line up with what he’s actually feeling instead of parroting the world that created him.

Yelena goes from being catatonic to being a nuisance because -- reasons?

Connie almost kills Falco then doesn’t, because he really, honestly, was never going to kill the kid and we all knew that.

The driving force of all these potential conflicts is just too distant. As much work as everyone’s doing, they’re only making progress towards getting to Eren.

When you have a character who can end the world choosing to end the world, it creates problems. When that character is your protagonist, it’s even worse.

In the past, Eren’s absence has spurred characters to action and revealed more of the world’s secrets. Presently, unlike in his various kidnappings, Eren is the one with the secrets. His absence is making people do stuff, but not stuff that has any tangible meaning outside of putting actions to the belief that genocide is bad.

Secrets, and people seeking answers, has been a major player in moving the plot from the beginning.

Here though, we have the issue of no one having the luxury of investigating why this is happening. Mikasa and Armin might be desperate to know, but they have no tools available to them except the airship. Which, again, just puts them in the same place as Eren. It does not give them much more than they had the last time they were in a room with him.

Whatever secrets are in place, they are insignificant next to the fact that the world is ending as they watch.

Only, you know, slowly.

Because the decision has been made that Eren’s perspective is going to be a Reveal. It has to stay private until the moment it’s relevant to the other members of the cast, or otherwise, what was the point of holding off so long?

The result is this. Too much going on in too little time, and all of it technically mattering, but not enough that spending 40 pages on it really changes how the story is progressing.

I’m not sure this is a problem that would be easy to see coming. In the design phase, I mean. I’ve kind of been cautiously whining about these concerns for several months.

But the stage is set like this: Eren pulls the doomsday trigger. Enough time must pass for Paradis to cultivate a new normal and for Eren to reach land with his squad of titans. The goal is gathering our cast and stopping Eren.

There’s a disconnect between what needs to be done and how much time it takes to portray those things.

Connie’s breakdown over feeding Falco to his mom is a character moment that helps to inform his emotions this chapter. That’s probably why it survived. It still drags four named characters off to a village in the middle of nowhere while Floch’s reign is establishing itself.

Magath’s turnabout this chapter is the culmination of a lot of the emotional connections he’s made with Eldians, and the attachment he has to his home, but it comes after driving in the point of why Marley is so fucking awful. He’s spouting rhetoric last chapter, then he’s immediately confronted with the birthplace of that rhetoric being destroyed thanks to events he’s had a part in forging.

Yelena goes from being willing to let Floch shoot her to having an interest in watching things play out. Courtesy of one background dump.

The emotional beats these characters are all due do not match up with what they have to do, and it’s making things come across as really disjointed. It’s a frustrating combination of this needing more pages, but the idea of yet more pages being spent off where the main plot actually is going on is exhausting.

The world is ending, but the world has been ending for months.

We’ve clearly got a checklist of things to get done before we meet up with Eren, but he’s hoarding the plot. Sticking around to watch the list be physically checked is...

To paraphrase some tumblr post from the past few months, it feels like laundry, mostly.

The story wouldn’t survive just jumping to Eren. The more time we’re away from him, the greater the impact when we finally know what’s up. The more time we have with our squad of unlikely, plucky heroes, the more we’re going to want to punch Eren in the face for not listening to them. Again.

It’s not that there’s no value in devoting chapters to all of this planning and reeling. It’s that no matter what happens here, it is not fixing the larger problem of Eren’s genocide campaign.

The plot is across the ocean, and we are months into watching our cast try to reconnect with it.

For me, that makes it a bit dull to read, but it is hard to hold it against the story. Writing the end of the world when you intend to make the audience care about the world -- even though the protagonist is ending it -- that is a lot of plot. Knitting it all together is not a simple task. You can see the seams popping.

Oh well.

One of the things I will stand by is that this manga is a great story told gracelessly. If you read it all linearly, problems are going to be noticed. Stuff be weird. Plus timed terribly.

But there’s a lot of emotion packed into it all. It’s a story that, when you look back in retrospect, free of any time line and observing only through the lens of your knowledge, it holds up and has power.

So I’m glad all of this stuff is being drawn, because one day, when the story’s over, having a fragmented, disjointed thread of progression isn’t going to matter so much.

Some stories survive on how they’re told.

Arguably, that includes this one, because the anime got people through the first few volumes.

This story, primarily, survives on the quality of what it is attempting to lump together.

...Not that I don’t wish it wouldn’t try a little harder to pace itself, but I suppose all that energy is being spent on Eren. You know. Since he’s the only one who has any of the parts of the plot that matter.

Uh.

As far as what actually happened this chapter, yay for Mikasa showing attachment to Kiyomi and crew. Intrigue for the question of where Eren is being such a topic (he’s a fucking giant stegosaurus last I saw figure it out). Sadness for Samuel being on the wrong side after surviving so long (Connie probably remembers Sasha saving his life). Sadness for Reiner trying to spare his friends the pain of what he went through for his cause. Pat on the head for Annie still being impossibly Annie. Pat on the head for Onyankopon just because (sorry about your life yikes).

The absolute funniest part of all of this, to me, is that Daz is now dead.

Beats freezing to death in a blizzard while two teenagers shout about philosophy over your unconscious body?

Anyway, another month goes by.

Much the way waves do in Wind Waker.

#Shingeki no Kyojin #SnK 128 #shingeki no spoilers #SnK spoilers #spoilers #tl;dr #chapter post #it might be worth noting that I spent all of the time writing this post wondering what the hell I was talking about #the nature of how these posts are written means that is now your problem

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dherzogblog · 4 years ago

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songs/20

Happy Holidays Everyone! I started making these yearly playlists in 2001 as an attempt to connect with friends in the wake of 911. It was just before the dawn of ITunes, and way before social media. We were not in touch like we are today. I burned dozens of individual cd’s one at a time, printed up customized jewel case covers and snail mailed them all out. It was an annual month-long labor of love. Over the past few years, streaming music has made it much easier and faster to compile and distribute, and frankly much more fun. I still look forward to putting the playlist and blog together and sharing it with all of you. Particularly this year as it gives me a chance to connect with so many friends I haven’t seen in quite some time. It was a tremendously challenging year for all of us. I was grateful to have had my family here in LA the entire time, we remain healthy and well. The west coast Herzogs know just how lucky we have been. The next year will not be without its own challenges, but I'm hopeful we are able to move past this pandemic and the exhausting events of the past 4. More than that, I look forward to seeing each and every one of you in 2021. Until then, be safe, be well, and be good to one another. Enjoy the music.

ox peace, dh

Los Angeles CA. December 2020

Khruangbin - Time (You And I) Don’t ask me to pronounce the name of this eclectic trio from Texas, but this dubby disco tune had me returning to its chilled out groove often during the last few decidedly “un-chill” months. Dreamy and funky, the groove takes me back to NYC’s early 80′s club scene and Ze Records releases from the likes of Kid Creole and Coati Mundi.

Anderson .Paak- Lockdown Scenes from the front, June 2020

Bill Withers (1938-2020)- Use Me The legendary Bill Withers left the playing field at the top of his game in the early 80′s, hardly heard from again. And while he didn't pass from Covid, his healing pop hymn Lean On Me seemed to be everywhere as people found music to help them cope with the challenges of the pandemic. Withers left behind a legendary and enduring group of hit songs that moved easily from soul to folk to pop, not to mention the subtle rolling funk of this one.

Black Pumas- Fire Strong debut from an unlikely Austin duo that garnerd both buzz and grammy nods. The critics are calling it “psychedelic soul”. Not quite sure that nails it, but like the artists coming up next, they’re carving out new ground while drawing inspiration from classic sources.

Gabe Lee- Babylon

Marcus King- Wildflowers and Wine

Charley Crockett- Welcome to Hard Times

Three artists that are literally changing the face of Country and Americana music. Soulful, authentic and diverse, reaching back for inspiration but always looking forward. If you like this sort of stuff they are all worth checking out. Each album is filled with quality songs.

Low Cut Connie_ Private Lives Philly’s Low Cut Connie are back at it with a double album that plays like the soundtrack to a boozy night at your favorite bar. Sweaty, funky and not a little bit messy. If Peter Wolf and Bruce had a kid it would be this blue eyed soul boy. Adam Weiner grew up in the shadow of the Jersey shore and can't help but have a bit of that E Street hustle.

Willie Nile- New York at Night One of New York’s beloved adopted son’s dropped this love letter right into the jaws of a battered metropolis driven to its knees by the pandemic. It was heartbreaking to listen as the “city that never sleeps” came to a full stop. Somehow I still found myself coming back to it, imagining night’s ahead, when NYC is back on its feet and I’m roaming its streets. Looking for music, a beer, or maybe just a slice, and fueled by the irreplaceable energy and promise of the greatest city on earth.

The Long Ryders- Down to The Well Americana pioneers the Long Ryders reunited last year for a surprisingly solid album. This single sounds like it could have been recorded during their 80′s heyday featuring their trademark Byrds like jangle and harmonies, but the lyrics mark this song as unmistakably 2020.

The Speedways- Kisses Are History UK power pop outfit reach back to the the 60′s on this sweet slice of retro pop perfection.

Billie Joe Armstrong- That Thing You Do

In the early days of the pandemic we had all our kids (+ a significant other) at our house for a few months. It worked out great and we were luckier than most. The biggest issue was keeping enough food, weed and wine around. There were some great nights with amazing meals, followed by gathering around the TV together. We re-watched The Sopranos, binged Billy On The Street, and revisited some of our favorite movies. One night we went back to a old family favorite, Tom Hanks’ underrated love letter to the one hit wonders of the post Beatles era, That Thing You Do! I’ve seen the movie several times and it never fails to please. A true feel good film and a perfect Kodak snapshot capturing a simpler time in American pop culture.

While we watch the unlikely chart topper’s The Oneders fizzle as fast as they rose to fame, its not really the point. The movie is really an old fashioned love story. Playing like a perfect hit song you can listen to over and over, full of both hooks and heart. I always thought the title track, written by Fountains Of Wayne leader Adam Schlesinger (who we lost to Covid), brilliantly captured the British Invasion sound every group wanted after The Beatles stormed America. Green Day’s Billie Joe Armstrong must agree. During the pandemic he cut an album’s worth of cool covers including a faithful version of this one.

Gerard Way (W/Judith Hill - Here Comes the End A tale of discovering music in 2020: Heard this on a Netflix trailer for the series The Umbrella Factory. Turns out it is performed by Gerard Way (My Chemical Romance) who also writes the comic book the series is based on. (got all that?) He’s joined on this searing garage/psych rave up by the talented and versatile Judith Hill doing her best Merry Clayton.

Hinds- Spanish Bombs I’ve been following this Madrid based, all female outfit of punky garage rockers for a few years now. I think they are pretty great. This track, recorded for a Joe Strummer tribute bursts with an unbridled joy the stone faced and politically minded Clash could never muster. I bet Joe would love it though

The Secret Sisters- Hand Over My Heart Have enjoyed their harmonies for some time now. This one gives me vague Wilson Phillips vibes and I don’t really mind.

Tame Impala- Breathe Deeper I know I’m supposed to like this guy, all the cool kids do, I’ve even seen the band at Coachella. Over the years very little of the music has stuck to me, but the pandemic offered a bit more free time to dig into this funky dubby, chilled out jam, and it stuck with me. Not to mention that 2020 was all about deep breaths.

Ledisi (feat.Corey Henry)- What Kind of Love Is That Ledisi is back with some slinky, sultry R&B and jazzy vocals

Dinner Party- FreezeTag An R&B/Jazz collective featuring Terrace Martin, Robert Glasper, 9th Wonder and Kamasi Washington use sweet soul on heartbreaking and all too familiar tale..

Toots and The Maytals- Time Tough I’ve written an awful lot about my love for Reggae over the years. Right after Bob Marley kicked the door down for me, Toots showed me around the house. Ska, rock steady, and roots. He was true reggae royalty and sadly we lost him to Covid, just after he released what would be his last album. Check my Toots tribute blog and playlist.

Mungo’s Hi Fi- The Beat Goes SKA! These clever UK roots reggae collective never fail to surprise. This kitschy Sonny & Cher cover managed to make me smile every time I heard it. No mean feat in 2020

Stone Foundation (feat. Durand Jones)- Hold on To Love Frequent collaborators with Paul Weller (he appears on a track on the album), Stone Foundation are back with another batch of their UK soul revival stylings. This one features Durand Jones ( of Durand Jones & The Indications) on vocals and some great reggae style horns at the top.

The Pretenders- You Can’t Hurt A Fool Can’t resist a good torch song, especially sung by the smokey voiced Chrissie Hynde. Was kind of shocked at how many good songs were on this album.

Shelby Lynne_ Don’t Even Believe in Love Sultry country soul and one of her strongest albums in awhile.

Jaime Wyatt- Neon Cross Outlaw country has a new bad girl. And in case you didn’t think she was serious, she enlisted producer Shooter Jennings (and his mom Jessi Colter on one track) to help make her point.

Daniel Donato- Justice 25 year old guitar prodigy call his music “cosmic country”. Ok, now I’m listening. You should be too.

The Jayhawks- This Forgotten Town 30 plus + after their debut this Twin Cities alt country group led by founding member Gary Louris continue to deliver. They find their inner Neil Young on this one.

Lucero- Time To Go Home God I wish I was in a bar right now listening to this, even if I might be crying in my beer.

John Prine (1946 -2020)- Lake Marie We lost so many this year, but this one really stung. A true American songwriting treasure, who was still making great music against all odds right up to his untimely passing. His songs are known for their simplicity, and economy of words. but this one goes against the grain. I’m still not exactly certain what it’s about. Sorrowful and haunting, yet somehow uplifting and redemptive. I heard him perform it live here in Los Angeles a just over a year ago and it has stuck in my head ever since. There is surely a place in heaven for the great John Prine. He sang about it on his final studio album in 2018. Ironically it became the last song on his last record.

Thanks for making it this far....

***Play the entire songs/20 Spotify playlist HERE!***

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thebladeblaster · 4 years ago

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Pokémon: the Dark Circuit (aka Vanguard Descends season 2)

Chapter 5 Battle At Sea

Aichi’s current team

Level 79 Wingal (Lycanroc (dusk)) rock

Moves:

Stealth rock

Crunch

Stone edge

Play rough

Level 77 Llew (Golisopod) water/bug

Moves:

Sucker punch

Blizzard

Liquidation

First impression

Level 78 Gancelot (Lucario) fighting/steel

Moves:

Focus blast

Stone edge

Meteor mash

Dragon pulse

Level 85 Soul Saver (Haxorus) dragon

Moves:

Outrage

Iron tail

Dragon dance

Scale shot

Level 100 Alfred (Aegislash) ghost/steel

Moves:

Sacred sword

King’s shield

Iron head

Shadow Claw

After getting out of the bath, they went to the dining room. Like most other rooms in the castle it was unnecessarily large. Aichi didn’t linger on that too long after the food was set on the table. He felt his mouth water as his stomach growled again. He tried to remember his table manners despite his intense hunger. Though, just shoveling food into his mouth was extremely tempting. He resisted the urge and ate at a reasonable pace. Llew however instantly dug in. Wingal sniffed the food cautiously before deciding it was safe and started eating. Gancelot ate more cleanly than the other two, but in their defense they can’t hold silverware anyway. Soul Saver mimicked his table manners similarly to how she did in Alfred’s castle. Speaking of Alfred…

Aichi looked over to where Alfred was; he seemed to have wandered off. He felt a bit worried especially with Ahmes already missing.

“Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario.(Don’t worry about Alfred, he told me he’s just checking up on something.)”, Gancelot told him.

“What would that be?”, Aichi thought.

With Alfred…

“Oh is that you Aichi boy?”, Pegasus asked as the door opened.

“No, it’s Alfred Pendragon. The once and future king of Galar.”, Alfred replied, revealing himself.

“Ah, it talks?!”, Pegasus replied with mock surprise.

“Why are you doing this?”, Alfred asked.

“Is it hard to believe I’m just helping out Aichi boy from the goodness of my heart?”, Pegasus replied.

“I know you already know about him. You knew who were before we ever entered the castle.”, Alfred replied.

“What makes you say that?”, Pegasus asked.

“You didn’t react when Aichi talked to us. I noticed your men giving him weird looks, but you didn’t look weirded out or surprised at all. Also, it’s your tone. I can tell you know more than your letting on.”, Alfred explained.

“Ah, I see you are rather clever Alfred. Yes, I know very well who Aichi boy is. It’s hard not to know when he was able to defeat one of Team Asteroid’s Psyqualia users. I don’t want anything bad if you’re thinking about that. I simply don’t like Team Asteroid. They have spoiled the fun of the whole world. Back in the olden days people used to do fun things like make cartoons that aren’t war propaganda. Cartoons just for the sake of entertainment they were the best. Now, it’s all about the war blah blah and convincing young chaps to risk their lives for their region. Anyway, I want things to go back to a more whimsical and fun time. Giving Aichi boy medical attention, a bath, and food is a small price to pay for that.”, Pegasus explained.

“I see...you don’t seem to be lying. Sorry about being so paranoid, but with the nature of what Aichi is. A lot of people with not so good intentions try to take advantage of him.”, Alfred replied.

“Even his own father only thinks about him as a tool for world domination.”, Alfred thought.

“I don’t blame you, Alfred. It’s just smart for you to be cautious. You all are so protective of him, he definitely seems like he needs it.”, Pegasus replied.

Alfred nodded, that’s why he had originally joined Aichi in the place. He’s young, naive, and has lots of power. A very bad combination. And all the malicious programming placed in his brain certainly didn’t help. Iit messed up his ability to think clearly and made him act very unlike himself when it took hold of him. He seemed to be grappling with it again. He needs positive guidance in his life. So, he wouldn’t end up going down a dark path not unlike his father and even himself at one point. He saw him personally almost like a son. He had gotten rather attached to Aichi.

“Right, goodbye Pegasus. I believe Aichi still intends to leave after dinner to find our lost party member.”, Alfred said, with a light bow before seeing himself out.

With Aichi…

Every few minutes Aichi paused his eating to look over for Alfred. The poor boy was so worried about him. He was very relieved when he saw Alfred float back in. It made him able to relax a bit and focus on filling his stomach. He’s going to need all the energy he can get to find Ahmes. Eventually, they finished and Aichi was given a new bag along with potions, revives, and food.

“Thank you very much, Pegasus. For everything, I don’t really have anything to give to repay you. I hope we meet again one day.”, Aichi thanked, with a polite bow.

“It’s nothing Aichi boy. I was glad to help you.”, Pegasus replied.

Then, they all left Pegasus’s castle and were back into the wilderness of Alola. Aichi put his finger to his head trying to sense around for Ahmes. He didn’t feel him at all. Sure, he felt other Gallades but not Ahmes. Aichi frowned hoping he hadn’t gotten too far or...the worst had happened to him. Aichi shook his head, not wanting to even consider the possibility. He was probably just somewhere else in Alola out of his range.

In Sanctuary town…

Naoki looked around Sanctuary town after school, eventually ending up in front of the Sendou household. Word had already gotten around fast that Aichi didn’t go to school today. He felt a bit worried for him and decided to go to his house.

“Maybe he’s just sick and I’m making a big deal out of this.”, Naoki thought.

He hesitatingly walked up to the door and knocked on it. The door slowly creaked open a little eerily which made Naoki raise an eyebrow. He flinched when a scaly finger pointed at him with a watery bullet starting to form. Naoki couldn’t help, but let out a startled gasp.

“Mom, that's Aichi’s friend.”, Naoki froze, recognizing the voice of Aichi’s sister.

The door opened more and he now saw Shizuka with Elaine by her side who was the one pointing at him.

“Man, your guys’ mom totally gives off gang boss vibes.”, Naoki blurted out.

Shizuka’s eyebrow twitched a bit at the ‘gang boss’ comment and Naoki flinched.

“I’m sorry, but Aichi is not here right now.”, Shizuka informed him.

She still felt very ticked off that the evacuation people wouldn’t let her look for her son. Now, he was lost who knows where and possibly in her ex-husband’s hands. She honestly considered just tying her son to her hip at this point. He always finds a way to get himself in danger. She was finding it extremely difficult to contain her motherly worry for him. She wanted to go out and find him, but she had to take care of her daughter too. She was completely stuck and it was frustrating. She remembered back when things were so much simpler. However, she never regretted having kids just the person she had them with.

“Oh...do you know when he’ll get back?”, Naoki asked.

“No.”, Shizuka replied, feeling her heart sink.

“Okay...uh...see ya later Mrs.Sendou and uh...Aichi’s sister.”, Naoki replied, waving goodbye.

“My name is Emi.”, Emi told him.

Emi looked down very worried about her brother as well. Especially after she kept having those weird dreams of what seemed like Shuka’s world. She never wanted to see Aichi be like how he was in those dreams. She just wanted her dorky older brother that she knew back. She didn’t mind having to deal with waking him up as long as he was safe at home. The dreams still felt like some kind of a bizzaro world to her. Though, Aichi was able to do some of the stuff she saw in them. First of all he could obviously always understand Pokémon. Second, he was crazy strong. She wasn’t quite sure if he was as strong as the dream Aichi. Third, he was able to do that weird absolute lock thing against Shuka just like in the dreams. She had this really bad feeling that wherever he was something was wrong with him. She just hoped when he came back he would still be himself.

In Alola…

Aichi brandished Alfred as a blade. He held up Alfred’s shield in defense when a Turtonator breathed fire at him.

“Wingal use stone edge! Llew use Liquidation! Gancelot use focus blast! Soul Saver use scale shot!”, Aichi ordered.

The Turtonator growled in pain as it was bombarded by sharp rocks. However, he wasn’t the only Pokémon attacking them. Those Pokémon are hit by the others attacks. A Bisharp charged at him and he guarded. With a simple foot movement he got behind him and delivered a hard knock on the back of its head with Alfred’s hilt. They continued on like this for a few days walking through Alola and ending up with fights from the not so friendly locals. Aichi grew increasingly worried as he still had no luck finding Ahmes. They ended up setting up camp a few times with rotating who’s on lookout.

Near Alola…

Our heroes and the Quatre Knights soon approached Alola. Little did our heroes know they were slowly being pursued by someone hiding their power. Yami couldn’t put down this bad feeling he had. He continued looking over the boat, but didn’t see anything. He stopped when he picked up Aichi’s aura and was getting closer and his exact position became a lot clearer. The Quatre Knights arrived before our heroes and quickly flew over the islands looking for Aichi. Though with the massive overgrowth it was rather hard. The trees had grown up super high in some parts and plants covered most of the region. They all flinched when in the distance the Akala island volcano suddenly went off. Lava seeped from the volcano quickly overflowing at an unnaturally rapid rate. The Kantonians looked especially panicked at this especially when they saw the shadow of a titanic Pokémon.

“It’s him!”, Yugi said, sweating nervously.

“That jerk must have followed us!”, Jonouchi said.

The others rushed up as they got a better view of the colossal Pokémon. It had red scales and a grey underbelly. It had lots of spikes on it and strange black markings. It had massive claws, a row of sharp teeth and golden eyes.

“You have got to be shitting me. Is that Groudon?!”, Misaki gasped in disbelief.

“He’s huge! He’s not even dynamaxed, yet he’s that big?!”, Kamui commented, his jaw dropped.

They all paled as a massive fiery blast was sent in their direction. They quickly threw out their Pokémon to try and get out of the boat. Kai threw out Overlord and flew on his back. Misaki threw out Guardian and flew on its back. Kamui threw out Kaiser who for some odd reason could surf. (How it could, was beyond me. Even I don’t know. It just works. I’m not joking, you can actually teach Tyranitar surf.) Miwa flew in Dauntless. Kourin flew on Bridgette. Yugi surfed on his Blastoise with Anzu. Joey threw out his own Charizard which was shiny and flew on it with Honda. The others on the boat hastily jumped onto their own Pokémon who could fly or swim.

Kai, Misaki, and Kamui mega evolved their Pokémon. To their surprise Yugi and Joey were able to as well. Joey’s mega Charizard was mega Charizard Y though. They didn’t have much time to dwell on it though and quickly rushed to stop Groudon. Though, they were at a massive disadvantage right now because they couldn’t use all their Pokémon while over open sea.

“Overlord use hurricane!”, Kai ordered.

“Guardian use psychic!”, Misaki ordered.

“Kaiser use surf!”, Kamui ordered.

“Dauntless use giga drain!”, Miwa ordered.

“Bridgette use giga drain!”, Kourin ordered.

“Catapult use hydro cannon!”, Yugi ordered.

“Red eyes use solar beam!”, Joey ordered.

“Punisher use eruption!”, the boy from before ordered on top of Groudon.

The attacks all collided with each other causing the ground to shake.

Meanwhile on Melemele island (Alola)...

Aichi and his Pokémon minus Alfred stumbled as they felt tremors ripple through the ground. They were in a thick forest and the mountain covered their view.

“What’s going on?!”, Aichi questioned.

“I don’t know, maybe one of the volcanoes erupted?”, Alfred replied.

“Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. (I sense one did, it’s on one of the other islands though.), Gancelot said.

“Ahh!!! One of them erupted! Where is it?”, Aichi asked.

“Lucario. Lucario. (The one right of us.)”, Gancelot told him.

Aichi turned to the direction of the island.

“Lycanroc! Lycanroc! Lycanroc . Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc . Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc . Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc . Lycanroc. Lycanroc. (Oh no! No you don’t! There’s no way you can save all the Pokémon on that island unless you stopped the lava somehow.)”, Wingal yelled, knowing exactly what Aichi’s thinking.

“Then that’s what I’ll do.”, Aichi replied, they jumped as Aichi seemed gone in an instant and Alfred lunged forward nearly catching Aichi before he seemed to disappear.

“Lycanroc! (That stupid idiot!)”, Wingal yelled.

“Haxorus! Haxorus! Haxorus. (We gotta catch up to momma!)”, Soul Saver yelled, running as fast as possible after Aichi.

They all ran and Alfred floated to catch up with their reckless trainer. Aichi was flying high in the air looking over to the island. He had a light blue aura around him and his eyes had rainbow spirals. However now that he was in the air the Quatre Knights spotted him as he flew over to Akala island.

With the other…

Misaki got in closer with guardian who punched Groudon with icy punches. The others continued to launch their attacks at Groudon in different spots. The boy sat on top of Groudon not very impressed as he could hear Groudon cringe in pain. It shot more fire balls and swiped at them with its claws. Large spikes erupted from the ground which nailed Kaiser and Catapult. Thankfully, it didn’t impale them but it did damage them, cutting them multiple times. Their strong shells protected them from being impaled.

“Kaiser!”, Kamui called out.

“Catapult!”, Yugi called out.

They started sinking as the Pokémon that they were riding on was heavily injured. Their hearts beat loudly against their chest.

“Y-yugi!”, Anzu called out, holding out her hand to Yugi.

Yugi reached out for Anzu as his necklace suddenly glowed with a bright golden light. Kamui threw out Tough Boy and recalled Kaiser.

“Yugi!”, Kamui called out concerned, riding over to him on Tough Boy.

“Yu-gi-oh!”, Kamui had no idea where that noise was coming from, but the light got brighter.

Kamui stumbled a bit surprised when Tough Boy shook a bit. He looked up to see Yugi? No Yami, but he wasn’t transparent and others could see him. He was holding Anzu in his arms sitting on the back of Tough Boy with Kamui. Yugi became Yami? Kamui blinked in shock, completely stunned.

“How the heck did you do that thing where you grew taller?”, Kamui asked.

“We’re at a disadvantage in the sea. We need to get to land and attack there.”, Yami told him, as he pointed to land.

“A-alright man.”, Kamui replied, still trying to process what just happened.

They rode Tough Boy over to the shores of Melemele island because there was no lava. As they reached the shores Aichi who was in the air saw Groudon. He gasped in shock seeing Groudon. He quickly flew over to Akala island too focused on saving the Pokémon to notice the other people flying in the sky especially since they were tiny dots compared to Groudon. He had to stop the volcano somehow. He hoped Groudon didn’t cause it. Aichi flew so fast the others didn’t see him they only felt a sharp wind blow past them.

“Woah, that the heck was that?!”, Joey questioned, desperately holding onto Red Eyes with Honda.

The Quatre Knights pursued Aichi who hovered over the Akala volcano.

“Now...how do I stop it?”, Aichi questioned.

He remembered that blast attack he shot from his finger. Maybe he could just destroy the volcano? Wait...that was probably a horrible idea and would be too destructive.

“Stop...stop...how do I make it stop...wait a minute.”, Aichi pondered, before looking at his pointer finger wondering if what he was thinking of would work on inanimate objects like lava.

“Well...I might as well try. Absolute lock!”, Aichi called out.

He shot at the lava hoping for the best. He squealed when Groudon shot fire at him in annoyance.

“Well if Groudon is the cause then...Absolute lock!”, Aichi said, pointing his finger at Groudon.

The others gasped in shock when Groudon suddenly became stuck in place. Two intersecting white rings with a golden lining and a light blue aura surrounded Groudon. Misaki and Kourin’s eyes widened, realizing who shot the attack at Groudon instantly. Aichi looked relieved when the eruption actually did stop and the lava came to a halt. Kamui was too preoccupied trying to get to land. The boy on top of Groudon’s eyes twitched with annoyance.

“Who dares?!”, the boy questioned angrily, looking around.

The aura the rings gave off was unfamiliar to him. No one he knows did this. The boy growled angrily.

“Kill them. Whoever they are.”, the boy said.

Groudon roared as the red orb was activated. Suddenly Groudon was encased in a red gem. A golden omega symbol flashed on the gem. When it broke out it’s markings had changed and now looked like lava. It’s underbelly was now black and it’s spikes became black. Not to mention it was even bigger than before. The boy touched its head and it was surrounded by his murky gold aura and broke through the absolute lock. Aichi’s jaw dropped, looking stunned that Groudon actually broke out.

“That dumb giant! He broke through my absolute lock!”, Aichi sweated nervously as he felt a anger that wasn’t his boil up inside him.

Aichi twitched trying to keep control of himself.

“Calm down!”, he told himself, hoping that would work.

“You! You don’t understand! My pride is being threatened! I am supposed to be the supreme being! First you let yourself get punched by that stupid armored scientist! Second you let us get thrown around by Celebi! Freaking Celebi! Third, that lower Psyqualia user knocked us out! Then some dumb giant is going to breaks through one of my signature moves!”, 003v replied, his voice full of venom in his mind, which made Aichi jump.

Aichi sweated nervously in complete disbelief not understanding 003v’s complete insanity. He didn’t even realize 003v was keeping score. He thought maybe he was insane too for talking to himself.

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kpopbopz · 6 years ago

Text

min yoongi | careful what you wish for (angst trigger warning)

!!!trigger/angst warning: attempted suicide and harsh language.

disclaimer: this is a work of FICTION; purely meant for entertainment, all texts are fake and does not reflect the personality of min yoongi or any bts member.

also, if you or someone you love is feeling suicidal or in an abusive relationship, please seek help; I don’t mind talking and giving some advice but understand that I am not always available or a professional. ♥

♡.

You froze in place as you stared down at what you’ve done completely baffled with your suddenly increased capability of clumsiness. You watched as Yoongi’s keyboard malfunctioned and LED lights underneath the keys faded out. You had accidentally spilled a bottle of water all over it and you knew that once Yoongi found out, he would be beyond furious. Namjoon had been a witness to the destruction, surprised he hadn’t caused it himself, but at the same time knowing better not to go near Yoongi’s area of work, and definitely not to bring food or drinks—especially drinks—into the studio in the first place.

“Oh, no. Yoongi will kill me! Namjoon—what am I going to do?” you questioned as the instant feeling of panic was beginning to settle. Quickly you moved to get the napkins from the bag you brought, pressing feverishly down on the keyboard hoping it would revive back to life.

“Don’t worry about it Y/n,” Namjoon interrupted your thoughts, “I’m sure he’ll understand that your intentions were good.” He shrugged it off, still knowing that Yoongi was going to react with badly no matter how this looked. “Just buy him a new one and he should be fine, at least it was you of all people, he’ll have to show some mercy.”

“Okay,” you nodded, still with a distraught look on your face, trying to calculate how much money it would cost and how fast the same version of the keyboard could possibly be delivered to you. “I’ll make it up to him, I swear. Just tell him I’m sorry and that I’ll see him later, and to eat.” With that you left the studio in a hurry; you had to get home to finish up a project assignment for class and to now order a new keyboard for your boyfriend.

It wasn’t until about an hour later while you were just reading up on your research when your phone buzzed; suspecting that it was Yoongi, you read it immediately...

You bit down on your bottom lip, quickly responding in order to try to not escalate the situation more than what it needed to. The only thing you wanted was to help your boyfriend, you wanted him to stay healthy considering the long days and nights he was working in the studio; all you wanted was to help.

Holding your breath, you could only hope that he would accept your apology. He couldn’t be that mad at you for wanting him to eat. Right?

Another buzz.

You couldn’t help but feel the sharp pain in your chest at his words. You annoyed him? He knew that you were sensitive and you tried to reason with him. Yoongi was supposed to be your sweet and kind boyfriend, he was just saying this because he was angry, that’s all, right?

Sometimes he needed to be reminded where to stop before he crossed the line, so you responded once again.

You stared at your phone, watching as the bubbles popped up while he was typing. The anxiety creeping in your chest was almost unbearable, hoping that he would understand how sorry you were.

His next message appeared.

Now he was really hitting below the belt. No feelings of anger surfaced for you, just guilt and sadness. He knew that you had a hard time with your confidence and often times would fall into states of depression because of it. This was mainly because a lot of his fans would deteriorate your character and looks on social media. Constantly berating you with insults and telling you just how much you didn’t deserve Yoongi, that you were an ugly, gold-digging lowlife that should just disappear.

Usually, he would be the one that would remind you that they were wrong and you were more than that, but now it was as if all of that sweet talk was out the door. He had no remorse for what he was saying and everything he mentioned felt like it was his way of being spiteful.

You responded, wishing that he would just stop already. You didn’t want to make this anything more than what it already has become.

By this point, he didn’t realize that tears were streaming down your cheeks. Yoongi was throwing all your insecurities right back in your face as if you wanted to be this way. You couldn’t help the fact that you didn’t feel worth his time sometimes, and you felt bad every time you asked for his help. There was no way for you to know that it was bothersome for him because he always led on that he would build you up no matter what.

After your last response, you hoped that this would be the end of the discussion. It wasn’t like he wasn’t going to get a new keyboard from you, so it was completely unnecessary and rather painful that he was lashing out at you without any type of remorse.

The text messages to appear next shattered you into pieces.

I wish you would just disappear.

His words absolutely destroyed you, turning you into a bawling mess as you sat on the edge of your bed. Water stains hit your paperwork as you reread his last few messages over and over again, feeling the undeniable pain in your chest. He broke you. Of all the people in the world, Yoongi telling you to disappear was the final straw.

You couldn’t help but feel like you were a burden, on him and everyone else that constantly reminded you, no matter how hard you tried to escape. But hearing it from Yoongi, your sugar bear was proof enough that it was all true.

Barely being able to see through your tear-blurred vision, you typed your final response, apologizing and finally deciding to give him what he wanted.

For you to disappear.

With that being said, you turned off your phone, letting it fall down to your feet. The only thing going through your head was that he didn’t want you anymore. He couldn’t stand dealing with you and all the emotional baggage he claimed that you brought to this relationship. If he thought that you were that irritating and should just disappear then what was stopping you?

With tear stained cheeks, red eyes, blurred vision, and a broken demeanor, you got whatever strength you had left over to get up and go to the bathroom, searching for the strongest pills you could find.

You wouldn’t be a problem anymore, you would just disappear...

Having already closed the texts after he let out his frustrations on you, Yoongi didn’t see your very last few words to him just yet.

“I can’t believe she would even come in here. She knew that I wasn’t here. God, Y/n knew that I was taking a nap and didn’t need her help,” Yoongi was non-stop ranting to Namjoon, oblivious to just the amount of damage he had caused you because of his blinding rage. “She’s so damn annoying; how am I supposed to get my work done now?!”

“You should relax Yoongi. When she came in here earlier, she really was just checking up on you,” he shrugged it off, handing Suga a notebook and pen, “Besides, you know how clumsy I can get myself, show her some mercy. Use this anger in a positive way and just write down your lyrics the old fashioned way while she gets you a new keyboard. Lashing out on her isn’t the way to go and you know it.”

He did know that, and he was starting to feel terrible about what he said. Even though you frustrated him sometimes, he knew that your intentions were good and taking it out on you the way he did, was indeed going too far.

Yoongi took a few calming breaths before he was ready to finally apologize and hash it out, given his younger’s wise words. Lifting his phone, he was planning to text you to treat you to dinner tonight, but what he didn’t expect was to open your texts, seeing that you took him seriously in his fit of rage.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Yoongi had an alarm ringing in his head and began to rapidly type on his phone, panic beginning to settle in his chest.

It had finally started sinking in what he’s done. He slowly stood, phone in his shaky hands, waiting impatiently for you to respond.

“What’s going on?” Namjoon would speak up.

“C’mon Y/n,” Yoongi would mumble under his breath, eyes glued to his phone screen, searching for any type of sign that you were getting his texts, “Please, oh my god.” His fingers would rapidly keep typing, needing to know that you were okay.

*recommended song while reading: when the party’s over by billie eilish from this point on.*

He waited another moment, re-reading his previous texts and seeing how cruel he was to you and it brought tears to his eyes. Yoongi dialed your number, listening to the endless rings before your voicemail came through. He tried again and again, each ring sending him into a further panic.

“Joon, call 911, now! Send the ambulance to Y/n’s apartment,” his words were practically slurred because of him speaking so fast, however, Joon still managed to immediately do what he was told. “Fuck Y/n, pick up your damn phone!” Yoongi visibly was shaking, he could barely even text you with his hands trembling the way they were in absolute fear of what you could’ve done to yourself because of his carelessness.

“They’re on their way over there now,” Namjoon tore him away from his distressed state for a moment. “Do you need me to co—,” he was cut off once his hyung quickly dispersed from the studio, leaving everything behind except for his keys and phone which was still glued to his hand, quickly sending you another few texts just before getting in the car and heading toward your place himself, needing to know that you were okay.

On his way there, it would be his fifteenth time calling your phone to no avail. Somehow he managed to get there before the ambulance did. Yoongi burst into your place, screaming out for you. In his panic, he searched everywhere he could think of, seeing that your room was left empty. It wasn’t until he searched most of the apartment that he realized the only place left to look was the bathroom which was closed. Upon turning the knob, he found out that it’s locked.

“Y/n?! Y/n, baby, open the door,” he spoke to you through the door, his voice nearly cracking. Upon receiving no answer, he started to bang on the wooden surface standing between both of you. “Open the door! Y/N! Babygirl please I’m sorry, please, open the door, oh god—,” his voice would begin to crack even more than it was already, the worst possible scenarios crossing his mind. Feeling the rush of adrenaline pulse through him at the thought of your limp body, he kicked the door in, finding his absolute nightmare come true.

He fell down onto his knees, instantly cradling your unconscious body, crying above you as he held on tight to you.

“No, no, p-lease, wake u-up, please, y/n,” he would whimper, not paying attention to the distorted sound of EMTs rushing into the apartment. “Baby no, WAKE UP! Please? Please, wake up for me. I’m so so sorry.”

Yoongi was then forcefully dragged away from you, his face red and being stained with tears as he watched them check over your limp body, not knowing if he would ever get you back, not knowing if he could ever apologize and hold you again in his arms, and kiss you, and tell you how much you meant to him, and how much he didn’t mean it.

He didn’t mean it when he said to disappear, and now seeing that he broke you to the point where you would actually want to leave him like this, broke him too.

“Please y/n..”

part two.

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