#i’ll be writing a part two

[magicandmundane]

Something something Clone Force 99 breaking binders in every season finale

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: nightmares / trauma / ]

Post-invasion, Mikey sneaks into Leo’s room and when asked by Leo what the problem was, Mikey just smiles and says since he’s awake and knew Leo would be too, he didn’t want either of them alone. Leo laughs and lets Mikey stick around, both of them clumped together on Leo’s bed, watching grainy compilations of old Lou Jitsu commercials on Leo’s phone.

Technically, Mikey didn’t lie. He just didn’t explain everything that led him to Leo’s room. He didn’t explain the nightmare of his arms burning up too bright, too fast, destroyed before Raph and Donnie have a chance to help. He didn’t explain how he woke up with a wail caught in his throat, phantom pain in his arms and chest alike chasing away any semblance of exhaustion. He didn’t explain how his mind made sure he knew, vividly, that if one thing went wrong with his portal, then he would have never seen Leo again.

He didn’t explain, and he didn’t have to. Leo knows his brothers better than he knows himself, and Mikey has always been easy to read. So it’s no trouble to let Mikey know that he’s still with them, that Leo is here and alive with everyone else. And when Mikey finally regains his exhaustion and falls asleep leaning against Leo, Leo simply maneuvers him into a more comfortable position and stays by his side.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t go to sleep - not that he could, anyway. He just mindlessly scrolls on his phone, the soft snores of his little brother filling the room. He stays in place, awake, because he wants to be sure that when Mikey wakes up again it’s to the immediate sight that Leo is alive and well and home.

And, if Leo’s bring honest, that’s a reminder not just for Mikey’s sake.

[withthewindinherfootsteps]

Wei Wuxian and Narrative Agency – Part One

For Xiantober Day One: Genius… albeit stretching the prompt so it refers to MXTX and MDZS itself, but at the end of the day it’s still about WWX – so no harm done!

(Part Two | Part Three | Full version on AO3)

The narrative is a very active player in MDZS’ story. How it presents information, what it chooses to show and omit, often reflects important facets of its themes and characters – Nie Huaisang, for instance, is so good at hiding behind his mask that not even the narrative can hold him accountable; the present day’s storyline as a murder mystery and the slow reveal of information about the past both prompt the reader to think critically about the truth of events, when the importance of thinking critically is an important theme; and the dangers not thinking critically (and instead basing conclusions on rumours without much evidence) are shown by tricking unquestioning readers into the very same trap the cultivation world falls into, as the information given by the title, summary and in-universe rumours – which contradicts how we see actually Wei Wuxian act – turns out to be false.

But nowhere do I love this trait more than in its treatment of Wei Wuxian – and, more specifically, in its way of emphasising his agency. We’re not just told how much his active choices define his character, and we’re not just shown this in-universe through his personality, worldview and the events he causes. I’d argue that this aspect goes a step further, and shapes the structure of the out-of-universe narrative as well.

There are two main ways this happens: one, in how the aspects of Wei Wuxian’s life that are shown and hidden directly tell us what’s important about his character (which is good writing but isn’t necessarily tied to this shaping of the narrative), which is what we’ll explore today; and two, how what’s shown and hidden reflects what Wei Wuxian himself prefers to dwell on, resulting in the narrative respecting his own thoughts and feelings on matters (which very much is tied to it). We’ll explore this at a later date.

But as for now – let’s explore my favourite aspect of MDZS.

(Here, narrative agency will be considered the ability of a character to meaningfully influence their events and the story they’re in.)

Tragedy, Circumstance, Choice

If we simply look at Wei Wuxian’s backstory in a vacuum, it seems almost typically tragic. His  parents died in circumstances beyond his control, he was left alone as a child with nobody to care for him, he was forced to grow up fending for himself on the streets, he was faced with abuse when he finally was taken in… as with all typical woobies, everything simply happened to him, and none of it was good. It’s just another example of the lack of agency being used for sympathy points, right?

…Except there’s one problem with that idea. We don’t actually see any of this.

It would’ve been easy to start the flashbacks during these times. We’re telling the story of Wei Wuxian in (largely) chronological order, and these are likely important experiences for him! But instead of starting in his street days, or evenat the moment Jiang Fengmian took him in*, we start at the lectures in the Cloud Recesses. That’s not even something mentioned in, and therefore something that’s able to disprove, the rumours at the start of the novel. So why is this the case? 

Well, there are multiple reasons – the main one being that MDZS is also Lan Wangji’s (and Wangxian’s) story, and having the flashbacks open with their first meeting is very satisfying. But I want to focus on something else.

This period doesn’t have to be shown, because what happens to Wei Wuxian, especially out of his control, isn’t what’s important about his character.

We’re not even at Lotus Pier here, where Wei Wuxian certainly has more agency than he would’ve had as a young child, but where the harm caused by Madame Yu is still completely out of his control. Here, he has agency! Though there are consequences, he is free to act, and what happens to him is a result of those actions and not of circumstance. Yes, he gets punished more than others who also take those same actions (due to classism); yes, it’s not his choice to be picked on by Lan Qiren in class (yet look how he responds, twisting the situation to his advantage and ending up tricking Lan Qiren into letting him leave, which is what he wanted to do. He is not at all helpless here!); yes, these choices have been influenced by his learned mindset from Madame Yu that punishment is arbitrary and will happen anyway, so you may as well do what you want regardless. But there is cause-and-effect here. It’s not circumstantial tragedy.

Therefore, instead of our first impression of past!Wei Wuxian being that of an unfortunate woobie, it’s of someone who has the freedom, ability and will to choose and act (and that’s after these initial tragic events have taken place). This is compounded by the fact that before we see any of his backstory, we get a similar impression of him in the present day.

If the purpose of his tragic past was to earn him sympathy points, to make us pity him due to how much he was influenced by events out of his control, this would’ve been a terrible way of going about it… and it’s this that betrays the true reason for its existence. Because now, the flashbacks instead show us how little these tragedies define who he is! From the very start, Wei Wuxian isn’t someone defined by circumstances out of his control, but rather by who he is as a person and by what choices he makes in the present day (which is both a mindset in-universe, and a nice little out-of-universe detail that lines up! Because out-of-universe, this means he’s not defined by sympathy points from a backstory, but rather by his great character writing… aka, by who he is as a person and what choices he makes). And this refusal to be defined by tragedy is a conscious choice on his part, too – but we’ll explore that more later. 

The important thing is that this idea of Wei Wuxian isn’t because of what exists in his past, it’s because of what parts of his past are shown to us (as well as what he chooses to do, with agency, in the present). 

Now, if this relationship between what’s displayed and what’s omitted was just a one-time thing, I might’ve considered it a cool detail or a nice way to establish a character, but not something the narrative is actively focusing on. But it’s a pattern that continues throughout the flashbacks. What, arguably, are the two other most important times in Wei Wuxian’s life where he doesn’t have enough agency to meaningfully influence his circumstances? His three months in the Burial Mounds (before escaping – he managed to assume some control of the circumstances but not enough to substantially reduce his suffering in his time there), and his loss and death during the First Siege. And we’re not shown either of them! We skip to when Wei Wuxian has emerged from the Burial Mounds and is torturing the Wens, or we skip to the present day – both times he has agency once more, because, again, what he’s like without it doesn’t matter enough to be shown. 

Furthermore, I’d argue this does actually contrast the other tragic events we see in Wei Wuxian’s later life. Things do go horribly wrong, but it’s either due to choices he knows the consequences of (see: rescuing the Wen Remnants in the first place), or instances where he still has some ability to act in the situation and influence it within the limitations. If he’d had no ability to influence circumstances at Qiongqi path, he would have died in the ambush; if he’d been unable to do that at Nightless City, he would’ve died then, too (of course Lan Wangji helped him escape as well). The attention drawn to him losing control of his actions in both instances is very interesting, but intentional or not, it’s still his actions influencing the plot. And that influence happens to be detrimental. The very ability to act and influence, at a base level,  is not taken away (though, of course, that doesn’t make these events any less tragic).

So, so far, the narrative seems to be telling us that the ability to act and choose is key to Wei Wuxian’s character. And it’s doing it through omitting his moments without agency in favour of instead showing us his moments with it. 

Let’s see if this is echoed in the text itself before we go further – because even with this pattern, nothing would end up mattering if Wei Wuxian’s agency wasn’t actually that important to the story itself. But thankfully it is, and that first impression we get of Wei Wuxian in the Cloud Recesses turns out to very much be accurate! Though there are defining circumstances out of his control that occur, such as the massacre of Lotus Pier, the majority of the important events of his life are due to his own choices. He didn’t happen to be forced to cease traditional cultivation and solely use guidao, didn’t happen to lose his Golden Core in a fight with Wen Zhuliu or due to some force in the Burial Mounds, it was his own choice to give it and his spiritual powers away. He didn’t tragically happen to get targeted by the cultivation world, it was a result of him acting on his morals and protecting the Wen remnants (a choice which he was fully aware of the implications of). He isn’t a protagonist to whom things simply occur, and that activeness and agency is my favourite thing about him. 

That’s not to say that the times Wei Wuxian doesn’t have agency, or feels like he doesn’t have any, don’t exist at all, either – but they are rare enough to have attention directly drawn to them in his internal narration:

Or else what could he do? He could do nothing. He was powerless. Lotus Pier had been destroyed, both Jiang FengMian and Madam Yu were gone, and Jiang Cheng had disappeared as well. He was the only one left, alone, with not even a sword in his hands. He didn’t know anything, he couldn’t do anything! For the first time, he discovered how little his power was. In front of something as large as the QishanWen Sect, it was the same as a mantis trying to stop a chariot. - Chapter 59, EXR translation

(And even in this circumstance, note that he still does force himself to act – to carry on searching for Jiang Cheng, to place his faith in Wen Ning – and does accomplish his goal (albeit with the help of others)! So even in dire situations, he isn’t simply passive. This is actually also the case with his time in the Burial Mounds, almost certainly the First Siege, and even his days on the streets as well (Chapter 20: he did actively fight with dogs to get food despite their danger and his growing fear of them, rather than just waiting and hoping to somehow receive some more). He can’t influence or immediately influence his circumstances, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.)

Overall, although they do influence him, Wei Wuxian is very much who he is in spite of his circumstances, not because of them. We’re shown the importance of his agency both in-universe by the major impacts his choices have on himself and the plot, as well as by narrative presentation – important periods where he lacks the ability to meaningfully influence anything are often mentioned but not directly shown, which suggests that such moments and circumstances aren’t as important to understanding Wei Wuxian’s character as moments where he does have this agency are. And I’d argue this works very well. Depending on the version of the story you consume, you may end up having different interpretations as to how much circumstances were at play nearer the end of his life – but nobody comes out of MDZS thinking about Wei Wuxian, the poor bearer of yet another generically tragic backstory.

(Part Two | Part Three | Full version on AO3)

—

*We are shown this moment in more detail in Chapter 23… but even then, it’s through the framing of Wei Wuxian remembering Jiang Yanli’s narration, not through a flashback proper or even him remembering the experience itself!

[puppyeared]

its so hard to watch time pass when things like careers and assignments exist. what do you mean im supposed to take that seriously

[oneweirdbookaddict]

“Better terrible truths than kind lies.”

-Six if Crows, Leigh Bardugo,

Promises are made and broken. How could Time watch his friend die when it’s possible the other is safe? Which choice is the right one?

4456 words.

Warnings for torture, kidnapping, vomiting. Let me know if there should be anything else!

~~~~

He thought things couldn’t get much worse when he was kidnapped with Sky and Four.

After days of starvation, he was losing hope of being able to break out of here. And they had, if his internal clock is correct (and it always is), one more day until their captors started torturing them.

His eyes find the smith, who’s shackled to the wall of his cell, bars separating them.

Sky lays unconscious on the floor of Four’s cell, the smith finally tearing his gaze from the skyloftian as the teenager clears his throat.

Storm cloud grey eyes find his, expression deadly serious. “Time. If it comes down to it, save Sky. Not me.”

He pauses, unsure of what to say to that.

“Four, don’t-”

“Time, promise me.”

“Four-”

“No, Time, I don’t want to hear the ‘it won’t come to that,’ or ‘we’re all gonna get out of here,’ you don’t know that. Promise me- that if it comes down to it, if you have to choose, you will save Sky and let me die if you have to.”

“Four I can’t-”

“Do it!” Four snaps, eyes flashing blue. “Sky has people at home who need him- friends who need him, family, his Zelda! I’ve got no one, ok?! It doesn’t matter to anyone but you guys if I make it! Sky has people who need him! He has a future! Promise me, Time!”

The desperation and raw fear in the kid’s voice makes him pause. Slowly nod, more out of surprise than actual agreement.

“Say it.” Four demands.

“I promise.” He says weakly.

“Promise what?” Four insists, arms crossed.

“If- if it comes down to… a choice… I’ll save Sky.”

Four relaxes, slowly releasing a breath and relaxing as much as he’s able with the chains around his wrists and ankles. “Thank you.”

He feels sick. How could he do that? Promise that?

But… it won’t come to it, he reminds himself.

All of them are getting out of here. Alive.

~~~~

He’s jolted out of the restless doze he’d managed to fall into by the sound of his cell opening.

Blearily, he raises his head to the bars. One of the weird soldiers in red is staring at him, laughing cruelly when he startles and yelps in shock.

“Wakey, wakey, little one! I had the honor of picking the first victim of our torture. Unless… you want to save us the trouble and tell us where the hero is?”

He slowly licks his dry, cracked lip, spitting in the face of his captor.

Instead of being angry, the man seems excited. “That’s what I thought. Come on, little boy.”

His chains are replaced with heavy shackles that make it very hard to move- especially with the lack of food and water.

He casts a cautious glance into Time’s cell- the leader is watching wearily, making the briefest of eye contact with him.

“Save. Sky.” He mouths, and Time looks away.

Then he raises his chin and allows the soldier to lead him out of the cell, down a hall, up a staircase that nearly makes him pass out, down another long hallway, and back down some steps and through a large room and into a little hidden door and through- he loses track, which he’s sure is the point of the ridiculous route.

But eventually the soldier stops him, and he’s forced to lay on a table as he’s chained up again.

“It has been five days, boy.” Another soldier says. This one is bigger, taller, holding a much larger sword. “Your friends are not coming for you. You will save yourself much pain if you simply tell us where the hero Link is.”

He stays silent, looking into the eyes of the mask.

“We can be merciful. We can release you, feed you, tend to your friend’s wounds. Where did your friend, the hero, run to?”

“I wouldn’t tell you even if I knew.” He snaps, cursing himself for replying. But hunger and dehydration make him woozy, and he can’t trust himself.

He’s glad he’s not sure where the others went.

A soft sigh comes from the leader-seeming one.

The smaller one pulls out a wicked looking knife, long and jagged and clearly having one intended purpose.

“We’ll do this the hard way, then.”

He raises his chin as much as he can. “Bring it. Come on.”

The first slice is to his leg. Another quickly joins it.

And another.

On his calf, one above another. Four long cuts, for the four colors on his tunic, the leader says.

A break, another question, another chance for him to talk.

They move up to his arm.

Four long, thin slices that bleed heavily and quickly are dripping all over the floor.

Then the other arm. Then the other leg.

He takes it without noise, keeping his eyes locked firmly on the leader.

I’ve had worse, he hopes it comes through. There is no part of me that isn’t broken and healed, and I am stronger because of it.

“Break bones.” The leader says in a bored tone of voice.

He grits his teeth as the soldier nears him, bearing his teeth. “Let’s go, then. Break ‘em. Which one you gonna start with? I recommend the ribs. Painful and damaging.”

Sure enough, the first blow is to his side. Knocks the breath right out of him, the fight in him faltering.

Then his wrist.

He has to bite back a yell, tears streaming down his cheeks now. But he forces himself to talk- he will not break. Never.

“That all you’ve got? Clean breaks. Those will heal up fine in a month or so.”

Mistake. The leader pauses, then hands something to the soldier.

A mallet.

A mallet.

“Smash his hand. Shatter the bones beyond repair. Maybe he’ll be willing to talk then.”

All the fight in him evaporates.

They can take a lot from him.

His sword, his armor, his tunic, hell, his dignity. But his thing, the thing he defines himself with is his craft.

Shattering his hand will destroy that.

The leader enjoys the fear he can’t hide in his eyes.

His breaths quicken, tears pricking in his eyes again, entire body trembling against the chains.

“Last chance, little boy. You’re a craftsman, I can tell. Surely the hero isn’t losing your work over?”

He swallows defiantly, making himself look at the leader once more.

Another sigh.

A wave of the hand.

The hammer swings down, down-

“I DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY WENT!” He screams, squeezing his eyes shut.

A loud slam, the air of the hammer blowing an ironically gentle breeze on his hand.

His teeth are chattering.

The corner of the table collapses, leaving a jagged edge on the solid wood.

“I don’t know where they went. We- we were planning to get to the stable nearby. That’s all I know.” He whispers, closing his eyes again.

He’s shuddering violently, uncontrollably, even more when a gentle hand brushes his hair out of his face.

“What’s your name, little boy?”

“Four.” He whispers shakily, forcing himself to swallow.

“Well, Four. I think you’re lying to me.”

His eyes fly open.

“You kidnapped me! I’ve been here for days! How am I supposed to know where they went?! I-”

“He annoys me. Find an interesting organ and remove it.”

A knife plunges into his side, and all the air in his body is sucked right out.

In. Out. In. Out.

Slowly, the knife cuts his flesh open. Open. Doing goddess knows what to his body.

It hurts.

He’s been stabbed before, by weapons much worse than knives, but he’s never had surgery while wide awake.

He tenses as much as his body allows him to, sweat mixing with the tears running down his face, teeth biting his lip bloody.

He knows they just want to hurt him to get Time to talk. They know he doesn’t know where Wild and the others went. They know that Time does.

And one look at Time tells them the old man isn’t going to break through good old fashioned torture. But… maybe they can negotiate his torture’s end through Time’s information…

All they need him to do is scream.

Sound pained.

Act the part.

I will not, he tells himself, blood dripping down his chin from how hard he’s biting his lip to keep himself from screaming.

I won’t, he reminds himself as he sobs, thrashing as much as he’s able to- which isn’t much.

But in the end, he’s not Twi, with his strength, or Wars with his unshakable confidence, or Wind with his courage.

He’s a teenager who grew up privileged in a comfortable house where he knew little pain, went on a relatively easy adventure compared to the heros around him.

He never died or faced a god.

He thought he knew pain. How wrong he was.

The knife brushes his rib cage, and he screams.

~~~~

A scream cuts through the silence of his cell, echoing down the long, empty halls.

He runs for the cell bars, looking down the hall, calling Four’s name, but sees nothing and gets no reply.

Just another agonized scream.

Then- “Time!”

He falters. “Wars?!”

“Time! I’m here, where’s Four, where’d they take him? Where’s Sky? We’re gonna get you out.”

“Go get Four, go get Four, I don’t know where he’s at-”

Wars nods quickly, already moving down the hall. “I’ll be back! I’ll be right back!” The captain shouts, and then he’s gone.

He waits one long minute. Two. Three. Fifteen.

Wars comes rushing back, Legend and Twi behind him, a multicolored bundle in the rancher’s arms.

Blood on both Legend and Wars, whether it’s Four’s, their own, or… someone else’s, he doesn’t know.

“Bleeding out as we speak, we have to go!” Legend snaps before he can even ask, slipping a hand through the bars into his cell.

“Take this bracelet, touch the wall, activate it, inactivate it. I’ll explain later.”

He’s seen quite a few things, during his adventures. Been transformed and transformed again, into thing after thing after thing. A deku scrub, a zora, so on and so on. But he’s never been a painting until now.

He shudders once he’s back to normal, shakily handing the vet his bracelet back.

“You get used to it. Where’s Sky?” The vet say, sliding it back over his hand.

He shakes his head weakly. “They took him. He was hurt. Badly. Haven’t seen him since.”

The three share a long look.

“We have to go.” Twi says quietly, looking down at a beat up and very bloody Four. “He’s not gonna last much longer.”

Wars peers at the smith, checking his breathing and his pulse. “Five minutes to look. Split up, meet back here or get left behind. That’s all we’ve got. Twi, keep that wound covered.”

A tense nod, and they all split.

He searches room after room after room, hollering Sky’s name, looking, looking, well past five minutes.

But he finds nothing, hits a dead end, and has to go back.

And they leave.

Four’s barely breathing, deathly pale, and his pulse is so, so weak. They don’t have a choice.

They leave Sky somewhere in the building, getting Four back to the inn others had found in their absence.

Wars and Twi talk to him, pressing him for answers, but all he can hear is the promise he’d made to the smith ringing in his ears over and over again.

~~~~

Their arrival at the inn is a chaotic mess.

Everyone scrambles to find potions, medical supplies, anything that might help Four.

Time sits on a seat at the table and stares out the window, refusing to allow anyone to look over him.

Wars and Hyrule get Four to a bed, working over him for hours and hours.

Four stops breathing once.

They get him going again, but the poor kid is still fighting for his life well into the night, well into the morning, all the next day, until Wars emerges from the room with Hyrule at his side.

“He’s stable.” The captain says quietly, then promptly falls into a chair and passes out.

Rulie follows suit mere minutes later.

Both men had been up all night. They let them rest, moving them carefully to their own room, and he takes to watching the smith.

“Let me watch him for a bit, Vet. Get some sleep.” Twi offers once, but he waves the rancher away.

Nothing happens for days. Four refuses to wake up. Sometimes they can get him to take some broth, coax a bit of water into him, but the teen remains unmoving on the bed.

The morning starts as usual- he wakes up, checks on Four. Wind reports that he’d been awake for a couple seconds, weak and confused, then fell back asleep.

That’s new. Over the past couple days, Four’s gained his color back, gotten skeletally thin, and the jagged cuts all over his body had slowly started healing up.

His heart rate picked up, breathing became less labored, even moving every so often. Rulie and Wars were optimistic he’d wake up soon.

And later that day he does, managing to scare the absolute crap out of all of them when he does.

Wild makes dinner, gathers them into a larger meeting room, wakes the two snoring heroes, and serves them all dinner.

It takes five minutes for them to start discussing plans to go back, find Sky, who should go, who needs to stay, when they're going-

Four stumbles into the room, pale and shaking. Barefoot, stripped to his underclothes, panicked and on the verge of hyperventilation.

“Where’s Sky?” The kid demands, swaying dangerously. Eyes scanning over the silent room, face paling when he realizes a face is missing.

Wars leaps up to grab the teenager, steadying him quickly. “Smithy, hey, kiddo, let’s take a seat? Just breathe, Buddy, just breathe…”

“Sky.” Four pleads weakly, struggling with all the minimal strength Four’s tiny body possesses.

“Want to try something to eat? You’ve been out a few days, let’s try-”

“Where’s Sky?!” Four demands, dragging his heels on the floor. Wars falters, giving him a slow look.

“Four, buddy… take a seat, kiddo, we’ll explain everything.”

“Tell me.” Four begs, eyes welling up.

“He’s still there.” Twi says softly, gently, eyes full of apology. “We had a plan… it went wrong. Almost immediately. We went to go find him, but we didn’t… we had to go, you were bleeding out- Four- Four, no!” Twi shouts as Four lunges over the table at Time.

“You lied to me!” Four screams, slapping the man across the face. “You promised me! You promised me! You’re a liar!” Four howls as he and Twi wrestle the kid off of the old man as gently as possible.

“You son of a bitch!” Four screams from the ground, tears running down his face and into his hair. “I hate you! I hate you!”

Time’s expression shatters, all the emotions he’d been hiding since their return on full display as the old man breaks down into tears.

“I’m sorry, Four, I-”

Four goes ballistic, breaking out of Twi’s grasp and raking his fingernails over Time’s face hard enough to draw blood the second he’s close enough.

“Sorry isn’t going to help you when I kick the shit out of you!” Four screeches, eyes flashing.

Twi leaps to try to intercept the teen, and chaos erupts. Four’s screaming, Twi’s yelling, Wild’s just staring in shock, Hyrule’s frantically rummaging through his bag and calling to someone, he’s running to try to help Twi, shouting over his shoulder, and Wind’s just burst into the room with a yelp of surprise, likely trying to find out what’s going on.

“Suck my ass you motherfu-”

Hyrule sticks a needle into Four’s arm when Twi wrestles the kid back to the ground, the smithy cutting off his cursing to howl in pain.

“You… you’re a liar…” Four pants, chest heaving, eyes fluttering as the kid clings to consciousness. “You ruined… everything…”

“Four-” Time pleads, but Four’s eyes flutter closed.

“Hate you.” The kid breathes out, hand tightly grasping Twi. “You… lied.”

And the kid’s out.

~~~~

They all stare in shock, Twi openly gaping at the smith underneath him.

Slowly moves his arms, sitting back so he’s not holding Four down anymore.

There’s blood on his hands. Despite his efforts, he’d ripped Four’s wounds right open again.

Wars slowly moves to tend to the scratches down Time’s face as Hyrule slowly starts on Four.

“Look up, did he get your eye?” Wars says quietly, and they all watch.

Time lifts his gaze to the ceiling, revealing the damage done.

Hyrule offers a towel, and the old man presses it to his bloody face. The scrapes aren’t bad, shallow and barely spotting blood, but long lines go down his cheek, to his jaw.

Very narrowly missing his eye.

The rancher carefully gets Four off the ground, the kid still out cold in the rancher’s arms.

“What’d he mean you lied to him?”

“Twi.” Wars says softly, disapprovingly.

Time’s eyes hold a deep sadness, a hint of guilt as he looks at Four. “He made me promise to save Sky instead of him if I needed to choose.”

Silence.

“Time…” Twi says softly, hand raking through his hair.

“How could you break such a promise?” Wild says in horror, staring at their leader.

“What, is he supposed to just let Four die?” Legend says incredulously.

“He promised he would.”

“If it came down to it, would you have the guts to watch your friend die?!” Wind asks, gesturing wildly with his arms.

“If I’d made a promise! I don’t break my promises!”

Time flinches.

“Wild, so much was going on, we didn’t know where Sky was, our best assumption was that he wasn’t being tortured like Four was and we’re hoping he’s in better condition than Four, the smith was bleeding out in my arms, we did what was best-”

“You promised him! Hylia above- if I’d begged someone to make me a promise like that to find out they didn’t keep it-”

Wild’s eyes find Twi’s, words faltering. Swallows thickly, turning away. “I’d rather be dead. Then… that.”

Twi gently shifts the teenager in his arms.

There’s a long moment of silence.

“I’m going to… get a bed for him.” The rancher finally says awkwardly, moving to leave. Hyrule stops him quickly.

“Wait! He’s uh… going to be nauseous when he wakes up. Should only be a few hours. But he’s… yeah.”

Twi nods, taking a deep breath and leaving the room.

They all silently watch him go.

~~~~

Hyrule said it’d be a few hours.

He’s not sure if he forgot to take Four’s size into account, or if Four’s just… sleeping, but the kid doesn’t as much as move for five hours.

The only sign he’s alive is the very slow rise and fall of his chest.

After those long hours, though, he slowly starts shifting, turning, hums groggily when he gently shakes the kid, and he lets him be for a little longer.

Not long after that, the teenager slowly opens his eyes and gives a groggy mumble.

Tries to sit up, flopping right back onto the bed.

“Easy.” He says softly, putting a hand on Four’s shoulder. “We… really knocked you out. You must still be groggy and…”

Four’s expression turns… weird, lips pressing together and swallowing thickly.

“Want some water? It’s been nothing but rain for days-”

He leaps back as Four shoves his hand away, rolls over just enough to get his head over the side of the bed, and vomits all over the floor.

“Eauughaahhehh! Wars! Wars!” He shouts down the hall, taking a cloth from the little table next to the bed and dunking it in the water meant for the poor kid, wringing it out and wiping the smith’s face down.

The teenager is still totally out of it, mumbling disorientedly and weakly trying to shove him away.

Wars bursts into the room just as Four manages to weakly grab his hand, mumbling forcefully and weakly shoving it away.

“Sorry, kiddo, I know, I gotta get you cleaned up, though.” He says softly, soothingly, Four’s gray eyes heartbreakingly confused.

“What is it?” Wars says, helping him calm the poor kid.

“He freaking- threw up everywhere, I’ve got him, any chance you could…”

“Yeah, I got it, he alright?” Wars asks, watching him gently try to get his hand back.

“I don’t know, man, I think he’s just scared.”

Wars leaves, likely to go get something to clean the room up, and he carefully gets his hand back from Four’s ironclad grasp.

“Hyrule said you might be a little nauseous… you feeling any better after that?” He asks gently, getting a dazed blink in response.

He gently moves to the side of the bed, fingers brushing through Four’s soft hair.

The kid seems to be calmer now, no longer struggling.

Just dazed and weak and confused.

“Hey there.” He says gently, and Four’s eyes find him again. “You want anything? Food, water… bathroom?”

Four slowly shakes his head, eyes closing as he slowly relaxes.

“Still tired?” He asks softly as Wars returns, starts mopping up the floor.

A small shrug.

A tear slips down the kid’s face.

His heart sinks.

“Four, buddy…” he says softly, hand finding the smith’s shoulder. “He’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna find him.”

Another slow tear, then another.

“He’s gonna be fine.” He repeats as gently as he can, trying to get Four to look at him and failing.

“They’ll kill him.” Four whispers, voice breaking.

And the smith dissolves into sobs, not listening to a word he says.

“They’re gonna kill him they’ll kill him they have no reason to keep him alive now he’s gonna be dead-”

“Shh… no no, buddy, he’s gonna be just fine-”

Four tucks his knees to his chest, forehead touching his knees, and just sobs.

Flinches away from his touch, curling into a ball and flopping down on the bed.

Wars looks sadly at the kid, at a loss for words like him.

And all they can get out of the kid is sharp, broken sniffles as the kid hides himself away from the world with the blankets on the bed.

The captain sits on the edge of the bed, hand slowly finding the lump of blankets that’s currently their smithy.

Four slowly allows him to lay next to him, leaning his protective barrier to curl carefully into Wars’ side.

They they start coaxing answers out of their friend.

“Are you in a lot of pain, kiddo?” Wars asks softly, and Four shrugs awkwardly.

“Chest.” Four manages, blinking at the ceiling.

“Yeah… you busted your ribs, probably reaggravated them hurdling a table to kick the shit out of Time.” Wars smiles, which gets a sheepish twitch of the lips out of the smithy.

“Let’s see… your wrist was broken, though Hyrule’s sure he got that fixed up ok. The cuts all over… we weren’t able to magically heal those, we just tried to heal the worst of it. So the stab on your side was a priority, then your wrist, then your ribs…”

“Did you crack his sternum giving him CPR?” He asks without thinking, then both of their gazes snap to Four.

Four blinks. Eyes flicking from Wars to him then back to Wars.

“Bruised it, most likely.” Wars offers quietly.

Four doesn’t react.

“Think you could get your shirt off, bud?”

Four shakes his head. They leave it be.

Silence falls over them, lingering for a long couple of minutes.

“Do you know…” Wars starts finally, trailing off when he glances down to the smithy. He’s dozed off again, silently, eyes closed and breathing even.

Hand holding his, calloused skin pressing into his.

Wars sighs slowly, gently tucking a blanket over the kid and carefully sitting up.

“Sleep well, kiddo,” The captain whispers as he carefully leaves the bed.

~~~~

He wakes up slowly, groggily, stomach churning.

Slowly turns to lay on his back, and has to take a long moment to fight the urge to throw up anything in his stomach.

Once he’s sure he’s not going to vomit, he swallows carefully and grimaces at the taste in his mouth.

Maybe he had thrown up.

Upon opening his eyes, he can see Wars next to him, passed out in a chair, snoring softly, and- Time.

Sitting next to the captain, watching him intently.

He pulls his face into a scowl.

Time looks away, guilt flitting over his face.

“Four-”

He ignores the old man, slowly pushing himself to sit up. Has to pause and take a few deep breaths in order to not vomit, sitting back once he’s all the way up.

“You alright?” Time asks softly when he slowly relaxes.

“Don’t talk to me.” He mutters, the words not nearly as strong as he’d like.

Time has the audacity to flinch.

Look away for a minute, saying his name softly-

He snaps, sitting rigid again and shooting a harsh glare at the old man. “Don’t even,” he growls. “You lied to me. You promised me- you promised. And you still left him behind. He’s dead because of you.”

Time looks like he’d been slapped, but he stands and storms out of the room.

Staggers down the hall, hands clutching the wall, vision swaying and blurring and the floor sways under his feet…

Stupid blood loss. He’s dizzy and woozy and it won’t go away until he rests… but how can he when Sky…

Over the buzzing in his ears, he can hear familiar voices, soft conversation.

He staggers to follow them, down the hall, pausing at a door, listening intently, turning the handle and stumbling inside.

“Four!” Someone says, soft hands steadying him immediately.

“Hey, bud, how you feeling?” Another voice asks, and another asks if he wants anything to eat, water, a blanket, is he cold? He’s shivering, people are touching his back and his shoulders and someone’s hand touches the back of his head.

His arms reach out, finding as many of his friends as he’s able to, sinking into warm, soft arms.

“Sky.” He mumbles, eyes growing heavier and heavier.

“Shh… we’re gonna get him back, kiddo, you just rest. You’ve been brave enough already, we’ve got this one.” Someone whispers, and he thinks he manages a groggy nod.

Hands brush through his hair. His headband had been removed, leaving his hair free and in his face.

“We’re gonna get him back, bud. You just rest.” The voice says again, and he nods again. Gives a slow breath out, letting his eyes fall shut. That, he can do.

~~~~

[playername-player-of-games]

More of @chrisrin‘s gemcyt au :D part 2 to this!

//

Earth is…different.

It’s been raining for three days, (at least that’s what Etho called it, back when they landed). Three days of rain, no light from this system’s sun. Outside is reflecting how he feels inside, gray and storming and he’s-

He’s never going to see his diamond again.

It’s fine. That’s fine. He doesn’t think about it. He can’t think about it, not when it makes him feel like he’s raining.

He’s thinking about it.

She was beautiful, graceful- let him speak and laughed at his jokes. She complimented his fighting, thanked him when he helped her with even the smallest things- things he shouldn’t have been thanked for, in all honesty, like opening doors, or turning off the lights.

Stars, he’s really never going to see her again.

He curls further into himself. He’d reformed with a hooded cloak this time, the desire to hide manifesting physically as soon as he’d Reformed on the ship. He’d had to Reform twice, the first he did himself, without Etho saying he could. He’d been poofed immediately and whisked back into a drawer for what felt like centuries.

After they made it outside, he was allowed to Reform after the ship took off again. Etho said his hair turned black.

He doesn’t know what Etho’s talking about. He can see it, when he looks up at his fringe. It’s a darker green now.

It doesn’t matter. He’s never going to see his diamond again.

“Pearl?” Etho sing songs, footsteps crunching across the dirt of the kindergarten, “Peaaarl, you in here?”

Pearl stuck himself into one of the many gem-shaped holes in the wall, pressed as far back as he could manage, grateful his cloak is dark enough to blend in with the walls, “Go away, Etho.”

“I brought some friends,” Etho says, his face popping into view as he leans over the opening, setting down an oil lamp to light up the space, “you up for some chitchat?”

Pearl tugs his hood down. “Not really.”

“They’re nice, I promise,” Etho assures him, “they’re some of Impulse’s friends! Impulse was nice, right?”

“I guess.”

Impulse was nice, Etho’s right. Their little tour of Earth’s Gem Base had been brief but informative, with a few landmarks. Impulse’s forge. A warp pad. A crash site. Then Pearl got overwhelmed and ran, warping at random and landing in a kindergarten. Nobody came after him.

Until now.

“Do you wanna come out?” Etho asks.

“Not really.”

Etho laughs, “fair enough,” and disappears.

New footsteps- Pearl catches a flash of green and blue outside.

“I brought an aquamarine and a peridot,” Etho explains, voice louder now that he’s further away from the opening, “Grian and Mumbo. They want to talk to you about stuff.”

“Goodie.”

Etho bids him goodbye, and leaves. Then the aquamarine pushes his way into the hole, with a wide, one-eyed grin. There’s more than enough room for the two of them and all the rain water he’s bringing in here, but Pearl curls further into himself anyway.

“You’re Pink Diamond’s pearl,” remarks the aquamarine.

Pearl bristles, “I was Pink Diamond’s pearl.”

The aquamarine waves him off, “specifics don’t matter. All that matters is whether or not you’d like to overthrow the diamonds.”

Pearl freezes.

“Grian!” The peridot- Mumbo- scolds, “you can’t just say that!”

“Well, why not?” Grian turns around, his wings nearly whacking Pearl in the face, “it’s not like he can say no, if he goes back to Homeworld he’ll be shattered.”

They dissolve into bickering. Pearl doesn’t care. He can’t hear them.

Overthrow the diamonds.

It’s treason. Rebellion. He’s suddenly connecting dots he didn’t realize were there- the crash site. A hidden warp pad. So, so many mismatched gems living together in an uncharted, unregulated base. Not being allowed to Reform on the ship.

Oh stars- what has he gotten himself into?

The aquamarine yelps and disappears with a poof- Mumbo catches him, flustered when Pearl rushes past him, sword in hand, back to the warp pad, back to the warp, to warp, warp warp warp warp warp-

A blinding flash of light- he stumbles off the pad and falls to his knees.

Rebellion. Treason.

If he goes back to Homeworld, he’ll be shattered.

He’s being shattered right now, he thinks- that’s the only way he can think to explain this feeling. He’s being crushed, turned inside out, trying to reform in a place that’s too small. He shouldn’t be here- he’s raining- he should have stayed on Homeworld, should have let himself be-

Someone is humming.

He freezes. He’s good at this- disappearing into the background. He’s nothing. An accessory, a set piece.

He lifts his head.

They’re hovering over a lake (he hadn’t realized he’d warped to a lake), twisting in a way that looks like a dance, something bright and cloud-like in their arms. Something about their posture is familiar- friendly. Pearl pushes himself to his feet- his knees trembling, and forces himself forward.

One foot in front of the other. He makes out features- wings made of water. A bouquet of roses and sunflowers and little red things. Too big to be an aquamarine- a lapis? His gem a little to the left of where Pearl’s is, on his chest, right over where a human heart would be.

His humming has turned to singing. Pearl stops on the bank- he knows this lapis. This was one of the messengers, they used to talk all the time.

What is he doing on Earth?

The lapis bends over, dropping petals into the water, and notices Pearl with barely more than a glance.

“Oh, hello! You’re n-” he does a double take, eyes wide, his smile fond and familiar as if he remembers Pearl too, “you’re Pink Diamond’s pearl!”

This is the same lapis. The one he used to tease and trip in the hallways. They’d salute to each other- then to their diamond- then drop form and laugh. They made jokes- they called each other names and playful insults and make faces at each other when the diamonds weren’t looking. This lapis is- is like home, even after he disappeared for a hundred years without explanation- and he’s here right in front of him. Pearl feels like he’s being shattered all over again.

“Was,” he corrects, “I was Pink Diamond’s pearl.”

Lapis comes to hover in front of him, holding his bouquet. Pearl does not meet his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I uhm-” Pearl pulls his hood down over his eyes, “I fused with her.”

“Oh.”

Raindrops drip down his cheeks- he reaches up to wipe them away, turns his head to the sky and wonders how they’re getting on him if his hood is up. The sky is clear. Lapis lands in front of him, wings disappearing, his mouth a worried line.

“Why is it raining on my face?” Pearl whispers.

Lapis smiles, quiet, warm, and gently pulls Pearl’s hood down to rest on his shoulders, “you’re crying.”

Pearl sniffles, “what does that mean?”

“It means your eyes are making rain on your face,” he explains, still gentle. He tucks a little yellow rose over Pearl’s ear.

“How do I make it stop?”

“It’ll stop on its own, eventually.”

Pearl wipes his eyes on his sleeves. He feels exposed without his hood.

“Lapis-“

“Jimmy.”

Pearl makes a face, “what?”

“My name is Jimmy.”

Pearl scoffs, furiously wiping his eyes again, “what is with you Earth gems and your weird names.”

Jimmy laughs, moving to sit next to Pearl and tugging him down with him, “who have you met?”

“Impulse,” Pearl says, “which sounds dumb, and Mumbo, which sounds dumber, and Grian which sounds like grain!”

Jimmy laughs and nods again, “that’s us.”

“Stupid,” Pearl snaps. He needs his eyes to stop raining now.

“Would you like an earth name?” Jimmy asks, and Pearl scoffs at him again.

His first thought is no, he doesn’t want one. But then he remembers treason, and he remembers rebellion, and he remembers that he’ll be shattered if he goes back to Homeworld, and he thinks of making fun of long winded messages from important gems and making faces at each other behind the Diamond’s backs.

Surely naming himself isn’t the worst thing he’s ever done.

“Maybe.”

“Go on then,” Jimmy says, nudging him with his shoulder. “There’s lots of things to choose from.”

And there are a lot of things to choose from.

He likes the J from Jimmy’s name- it’s a good sounds- he just doesn’t know what comes after it. He looks around for inspiration. Jake isnt right. Jloud sounds weird, and so does Jeaf.

He takes a rose from Jimmy’s bouquet and twirls it around in his fingers- he can’t name himself Jasper, even though he’s off color he wouldn’t ever name himself after another gem. He can’t call himself Jimmy either, because then he’d be naming himself Pearl all over again and that’d just lead to problems.

He thinks further back- Impulse was showing him something at camp. Barrels of something called oil- the stuff in the lamp. Stuff for cooking. It’s stuff that helps other stuff work like it’s supposed to. He figures that’s a good a thing as any.

“Joil.”

“Joil?” Jimmy dissolves into laughter.

“Wha- hey, it’s not like it’s better than Jimmy!”

“No, no, it’s worse!”

Pearl growls at him, trying to be upset, but the way Jimmy is doubled over, cracking up, makes it hard to keep a smile off his face.

“Oh-kay, it’s bad,” he admits, trying and failing in the not laughing department, “but do you have a better idea, oh great Jim?”

“Maybe,” Jimmy straightens, smiling wide, “‘Joil’s’ a bit awkward to say, is all. Why not try Joel?”

He’s gotta admit that is easier to say.

“That’s fine,” Joel says. “You can call me that.”

“Well then, it’s nice to meet you, Joel,” Jimmy says, ever smiling, “welcome to Earth.”

[wren-kitchens]

happy halloween! this is an idea me and stiff were talking about last night and of course I forgot about it until the very last minute soo

“your costume is stupid, by the way.”

jimmy squawks in surprise, almost falling over his own feet as he stumbles backwards from the voice. he knows even before he looks that it’s joel—who else would go out of their way to let him know that his ‘costume’ is stupid. he can’t decide whether or not to be offended by this—after all, it isn’t even a costume. 

every halloween, jimmy has debated going as his true form- as a canary, and every halloween, jimmy has backed out and gone in one of the cheap costumes he found at the corner shop. after all, what if people found out that he is a canary? what would they think if they knew they had an omen of death in their house? maybe they’d connect the dots, just as jimmy has, and they’d realise that jimmy is more than just clumsy- than just unlucky. 

but this halloween, jimmy confessed about being unsure whether to wear his ‘costume’ or just use the same dracula one that still has pizza stains from last year. joel being joel, of course, told him that it’s no use getting het up about some silly old costume, and that he should wear what he wants. (joel also said he’d look dumb either way, but it was said with love and jimmy is choosing to ignore it.)

and so.. here he is. in all his canary glory. big ol’ omen of death, ready to bring all his friends to their graves. this was a very bad idea.

“I thought you said to wear what I wanted?” jimmy says, with a distinct lack of the indignation he was trying to muster.

“yeah but- canaries aren’t scary.” joel (who has come as a werewolf this year—tail, ears and everything) is grinning. there’s a distinct fondness to it that seems entirely unconscious, and jimmy can’t exactly take the attempted insult to heart.

“yes they are!” jimmy scowls. that kind of thinking is going to get joel killed someday. “besides, it’s not like youroutfit is scary either.”

joel splutters, and jimmy can’t help the snort at how offended he looks. “wh- i’m a wolf! i’m so scary!”

“you look more like a puppy.” jimmy teases. “you’re less scary and more.. cute.”

joel’s jaw drops and jimmy laughs. it’s been so long, he realises, since he’s been able to laugh so genuinely about something.

“okay, mr canary.” joel says, folding his arms. “at least dogs can actually hurt you.”

the nickname of ‘mr canary’ hits jimmy like a smack in the face. “canaries mean that death is coming. they’re dangerous- more dangerous than a dog.”

joel scoffs. “lad- canaries stop death. they actually prevent danger.”

it’s as if all the air has been knocked out of jimmy’s lungs. “they- they what?” he manages.

“they stop death.” joel repeats, gentler. he’s clearly confused as to why this elicited such a reaction from jimmy, but he keeps going. “y’know they- when they’re in the mines, they warn the miners of gas, so the miners can get out before they all die. canaries stop death.”

and- fuck. he had it so wrong all this time. all these years of fearing for the lives of his friends simply because he was with them, all these years of believing that his very existence was a curse to those around him, all these years of hating who he was..

it was all a lie.

canaries stop death.

“so see, your costume is-“

joel doesn’t manage to finish his sentence because jimmy is upon him, burying his face in joel’s hair, wrapping his arms around him, tears pouring down his face. all this time, all this time.

“thank you.” jimmy whispers through his grief.

“‘course dude.” joel whispers back, his own voice breaking a little. what a sap. “I, uh- it isn’t a costume, is it?”

“how could you tell?” jimmy laughs a little, and he’s still crying, but he’s so happy.

“just- just a hunch.” joel jokes back, squeezing him tighter. “do you- do you wanna go somewhere a little more private, or are you cool to sob in front of the punch bowl a bit more?”

jimmy snorts as he pulls back and wipes his eyes. “the punch should be left alone in this time of crisis.”

[larz-barz]

Too scared

Warning(s)/info: Featuring Miki’s uncle, Miki getting hurt, reader’s discretion is advised, i apologize in advance, modern au

Tagging: @shining-stars-of-love @nothingtoseehere1-2-3 @rosalinastan1 @ayunakatsukiwolfhashira @pinkwisteria @nimmie-nugget @kimetsu-chan @slayfics @circus-gone-wrong @frostburn-shoto @floofgryph @muichirolover14 @muichirosboba @kiyokatokito

Tanjiro and Mikitama are walking through the mall, hand-in-hand, when Tanjiro sees something, letting go to grab it and show it to his girlfriend. “Hey, angel look at th- angel???” He looks around worriedly, unsure of where she could’ve gone.

He walks around, looking around for her worriedly.

Tanjiro’s eyes widen when he sees Miki with her uncle.

Haruki grins as Mikitama takes shaky steps, following him with tears in her eyes.

Tanjiro rushes over and carefully takes Miki away from Haruki.

Before Tanjiro can say anything, Mikitama steps towards Haruki.

Tanjiro looks at her in confusion and worry. “A-angel..? What are you d-doing???”

Miki gulps nervously. “I-it’s for the best, Tanji…” She responds in a soft shaky voice, squeaking when Haruki grabs her arm roughly and pulling her along.

Tears fill Tanjiro’s eyes and he quickly calls Giyuu, explaining the situation.

“Tanjiro, you need to stall them until I can get there, okay?” Giyuu asks as the sound of jangling keys hits the phone’s receiver.

“Y-yes, sir. I can do that.” Tanjiro sniffles and wipes his eyes then grabs Miki’s wrist, pulling her back.

The two teenagers’ eyes widen when Haruki growls and lunges at them, Tanjiro reacts quickly and guards Mikitama.

He holds her tightly as he uses his body to shield her.

“Give me back my niece!!!” Haruki yells and Miki trembles as she clings to Tanjiro.

“Not in a million years!” Tanjiro says as he tightens his protective hold on Mikitama.

Moments later, Giyuu comes into the mall and makes a beeline for Mikitama, Tanjiro, and Haruki.

He starts arguing with Haruki and Miki’s eyes widen in fear as she notices her uncle fiddling with something in his pocket.

Tanjiro tries to stop her as she rushes to shove Haruki away from Giyuu while the former starts to pull out a knife.

Miki cries out in pain when the knife stabs into her stomach

“A-ANGEL!!!” Tanjiro shouts and rushes over, shoving Haruki away from Mikitama as Giyuu watches in shock.

Tears roll down his cheeks as Tanjiro holds Mikitama close in one arm while calling 911 with his free hand.

Giyuu slowly walks over, tears filling his eyes as he drops to his knees.

He takes Mikitama’s unconscious and bloody form in his arms.

“B-baby….” Giyuu whispered shakily, cupping Miki’s cheek in one hand, stroking the skin with his thumb.

The ambulance and police shows up a moment later and the nurses rush in and lift Mikitama onto the stretcher as the police take Haruki away.

The nurses ask Giyuu questions about what happened, also attempting to ask Tanjiro, who is far too distraught to answer them.

They let Giyuu and Tanjiro onto the ambulance with all of them.

Upon arrival to the hospital, Miki is immediately admitted to the intensive care unit where they will perform emergency surgery on her.

After the surgery, they allow Giyuu and Tanjiro into her room to stay with her.

Mikitama is hooked up to a heart monitor, an I.V., and medicine that will keep her asleep so she’ll get the rest she needs.

The sight is truly heartbreaking.

“M-Miki, why didn’t you just let it be me..?” Giyuu asks the sleeping girl in a shaky, teary voice as he holds one of her hands in his…

~the end~

sorry 🥲🫶💖

[jamietarttsnorthernattitude]

Finished my under 5K AU for the @ficwip August challenge and it clocks in at…4975 words lmao

Also, this is the fic I’ve posted about as coal before and I have changed the name, and elaborated on the concept. There will be a sequel coming from Roy’s perspective where this is from Jamie’s.

I’ll put another snippet under the cut (cw abuse):

Jamie Tartt was sixteen years old when he realised his father would likely kill him one day, the first time a forearm pressed against his throat and made it impossible to breathe, the first time Jamie realised he might have survived the night, but his luck wouldn’t last forever.

It was the first time Jamie learned it was safer to not fight back.

It had only been a little shove—a slight push after James had grabbed Jamie’s hair in his fist and pressed his face so close to his that James’ alcohol-tinged breath made his eyes water. Just enough to give Jamie some space, nothing compared to the marks his father’s hands had left on Jamie’s body over the years, but that was all it took to set James off. That was all it took for him to ensure Jamie never forgot this particular lesson.

[the-woman-upstairs]

Betting on Daniel’s S3 plotline being the gay vampiric version of Almost Famous. No way Lestat’s going on tour without someone to chronicle all the insanity that’ll ensue plus Daniel would absolutely jump at the chance to get Lestat’s side of the story. It’s the perfect setup.

[quinn-pop]

yet another oc that only exists because i wanted to write something very specific

(middle is a little older, hence her scar healing. i like to think she gets a glass eye at some point)

anyway this is mira! (they/she) since that wip is almost 20k words and counting i won’t give away too much but long story short she’s the result of meta going “one last time, i promise” and adopting yet another kid

also galaxia kinda indirectly picked the name :)

i’ve mentioned before that i headcanon that pretty much all astrals are autistic and this is just kinda an extension of that. whereas meta tends to suppress his emotions and conform to others, mira…doesn’t. she gets uncomfortable and upset and lashes out at people easily, and working through their emotions is no small task.

the main reason i chose to write them that way was for the sake of narrative but i’ve grown attached to it because there’s a lot of ideas there i’d like to explore. stuff about navigating emotions and relationships when existing is so suffocatingly uncomfortable. it’s not something i could center around Kirby himself, but i think it makes sense with a post character development meta knight.

they are very loved (omg oldee cameo???)

kirby was definitely very excited to have younger siblings after being used to being the youngest in the room for so long!! (with the like. one and only exception being gooey.) he’s super affectionate with both of them and wants to have a close relationship one day, but for now mira is pretty unappreciative of that fact lol. they don’t like being pestered for hugs

everyone else is okay tho

(i know that’s hard to read. oops. “obvious bite marks”. siblings being siblings.)

mira also has a very love/hate relationship with the egg kid, being so close in age they kinda Have to get along but in typical sibling nature they also fight a lot. sure it’s probably rough for a while but i think in the end they’d be good buddies. maybe not as close as Kirby and Bandee but still.

anyway i have a lot of thoughts and am very busy but. i’m really enjoying writing about all this lately it’s been fun ^^

[i-am-a-fan]

Since I finished a mini arc…

This happens before the “Miscommunication” comic. Enjoy!

[plutonianplaything2]

i’m not dead the internet was just down for 40 hours :)

[crossbackpoke-check]

it’s all the rest of what i want with you

connor dewar/brandon duhaime :: 8k

Summary:

“Brandon,” Connor says with a sigh. “There’s no baby in there.”

“Not yet,” Brandon says. Connor feels his stomach twist, almost like what he would imagine a baby kicking to feel like.

in these trying times of dewvorce, may i offer you 8k of pwp inspired by @stillfertile’s wonderful art which i had. several breakdowns about 🫶 anyway please enjoy!!!

[mvrdermeharder]

Part 2 of Kaiser-goal analysis

[This post is a continuation to my previous one, where I tried to theorize how Kaiser’s goal celebrations differ from other strikers’ and the reason(s) behind it. I highly recommend you to read that first. I’ll also edit this post and link the third part here, when I upload that.]

[Also, tagging u @pixie05love <3]

Okay so, in this part I want to talk about what happens between the third and fourth goal: the failed attempt of the Magnus (the culmination point of Kaiser’s desperation to reestablish and reinforce his shaken self-esteem) and the events leading up to it. I think it’s important to recap these events and Kaiser’s down spiral to have a better understanding of the Magnus and it’s significance later on.

Reaction to defeat:

We have left off with the results of his shameful third goal: he fixates on Isagi more than ever, not bothering to award Ness. The game ends, with his rival as the ultimate victor. And just like after his latest goal, he tries to hold it together: covers his expression with his hair, head held down, being silent. But he obviously can’t take it anymore: his frustrations break through the surface completely, even though Ness isn’t there this time to “provoke” Kaiser’s ire.

(I am NOT placing the blame on Ness for how Kaiser responds to him in a verbally abusive way. That is not what I’m getting at. Just to be clear.)

And I want to note the obvious difference between these two responses to a loss: at first, his anger is icy and chilling, we get to see his vicious expression and eyes (they are the focal point of the panel) and it literally freezes Ness. He’s mad, it’s showing, but he still stands straight as the bet is not lost just yet. At the end however, his anger is loud and startling, he is hunched over, expression covered with shadows. He’s even more on the edge of an identity crisis, embarrassingly losing the bet that he had proposed in the first place, and having his self-obtained “humanity” (causing pain to others) ripped away from him.

So obviously, he doesn’t give a shit about his new offer. Prestige, wealth, and an escape from BM are only secondary goals: they do not “make him human”, only causing despair does. That is the source of his ego. And so, we get to the first self-harm scene.

Psychology behind the self-harm:

I think it can be interpreted in multiple ways, as there isn’t a clear indicator whether he’s punishing himself intentionally or subconsciously. I am PERSONALLY leaning towards the second possibility because of this one reason: he’s feeling like “shitty trash”. And how I see it, this feeling isn’t evoked by him choking himself, it’s quite the opposite, actually.

It is the same phrase his father had told him while putting his hands on Kaiser’s neck, the exact words Kaiser used to identify himself with as a young boy. But for a while now, he’s been considering himself as someone with success, who has built up his humanity, and so feeling like trash again this suddenly could’ve triggered his memories of the times he felt this way the strongest = under his father (who had spat these terrible things in his face) being totally helpless, with a pressure around his neck.

In short: he’s feeling worse than ever -> it triggers his ptsd of the most intense moment he’d felt this exact same way -> he’s reliving the memory -> subconsciously chokes himself, to imitate the situation in real time.

(But, as I’ve said, this is only my interpretation. I do not study psychology, nor do I have personal experience with ptsd and trauma responses.)

Between the Ubers game and the PxG one, we first see Kaiser at practice, as he acknowledges that he can’t gain back his feelings of comfort unless he beats Isagi. Later on the same day, we get to the second time he chokes himself. With recordings of Isagi playing in the background, he is literally facing his own defeat over and over again. It would be no wonder if the reasons behind his self-harm were the same ones that I had theorized regarding the first instance (feeling like trash more than ever -> subconsciously imitating a traumatic moment)

But there is another possibility as well. It’s now crystal clear to him that crushing Isagi is the end all be all. So, maybe, to come up with a way to do just that, he is intentionally placing even more pressure on himself (both figuratively and literally) to find a way out. He overwhelms his psyche on purpose, so that his base instincts for survival would kick in, searching for newfound inspiration to escape the situation. And it works:

Magnus’ failed attempt:

After Isagi scores the first goal, Kaiser’s situation is even worse. Not only is his one satisfaction of ruining other’s careers is being ripped away, but also his other accomplishments (his position, his team). Now even more things are at stake. Again, his anger is loud, bigger than ever.

But he puts a lid on his frustrations again, maybe so as not to scare Ness away; after all he needs him to set up his goal. But his emotions and desperation are clearly showing, they make him utterly irrational. Which costs him a miskick.

And at this moment, we have finally arrived at the pinnacle of his accumulated despair: for the very first time we can clearly see and observe every detail of his overwhelming frustration on his face: his hair is completely out of the way and there are no shadows to cover his expression either.

(I know this last part about the failed attempt is more of a recap, but some parts that I’ve mentioned will be important regarding the actual Magnus analysis itself… or at least I think so…)

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

THE BEST OF PRIORITY: MARS (PART 1)

Featuring: Cmdr. Sophie Shepard, Maj. Kaidan Alenko, Lt. James Vega, and Dr. Liara T'Soni Sophie, I don't know what you are- or who. Not since Cerberus rebuilt you. For all I know, you could be their puppet- controlled by The Illusive Man himself. Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)