#it genuinely makes me so sad that Dev seems to have no one to take care of him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years ago

Text

Fallen || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!devil!reader Summary: When a young driver wants to make a deal with the devil to get his greatest desire you find yourself forgetting what side of Heaven and Hell you are on. Warnings: supernatural themes, mention of deaths (Jules, Hervé & Hubert), angst, fluff WC: 5k

F1 Masterlist || Bonus Scene

16th October 2013 The kid had no business standing at the crossroads. What could a boy need so desperately that he was willing to part with his soul for it? But it wasn’t your place to question, merely to answer.

The boy murmured to himself as he knelt on the gravel and started to dig with a pink trowel he had borrowed from his mothers gardening tools. The quiet mutterings brought you amusement as you thought of the surprise he would get when his doubt was proven wrong and you appeared.

He carefully followed the instructions inked on the page that had been torn from a very old book. He reached up to his dark hair with a small pocket knife and cut away a small patch before laying it in the hole he had made. Turning the knife on himself, he whined as he pricked the tip of his finger and squeezed it until three thick blood drops fell onto the strands of his hair.

You would usually laugh at the poor attempt of the incantation to call upon you but instead you sighed as you grew tired of the theatrics.

“What do you want, kid?”

A small shriek filled the night as he fell back on his ass. “But…but…you…but…”

“Shit, you’re not even old enough to talk properly,” you said as you knelt down to his height. “Go home.”

His mouth snapped closed before scrambling to his feet and wiping the dust that covered his jeans. “Sorry, you gave me a fright. I was expecting…” he looked around and frowned, “never mind. Do you need help?”

“No, do you?”

He looked genuinely concerned as he searched the dark road and you tipped your head to the side before you remembered that to a human you looked like a 21 year old. It didn’t matter that you had roamed the world for a thousand years, your physical form remained the same.

“I guess not,” he sighed as his shoulders slumped and he kicked his vans at the loose stones as he whispered, “it didn’t work anyway.”

“It was your pronunciation, Latin is a tough language. I’ll let you in on a secret, you can say the incantation in any language and it will work.” You leaned in closer and chuckled darkly. “The devil just enjoys torturing people.”

“But…but…”

“Great, we’re back to that, are we?” You rolled your eyes and opened your palm, a ball of fire erupting into the night and the scent of sulphur lingering after the flame burned out. “What did you expect when you called me?”

“You…you’re the…dev…”

“Devil,” you offered as his face paled and he stumbled backwards. “Say it with me. De-vil.”

“You’re the devil? But you look like an angel.”

“More or less, there’s actually a lot of us.” You clapped him on the back and grinned when he jumped. “So what can I do for you, kid?”

“I heard you could grant wishes.”

“I’m not a genie, I’m a dealer,” you said with a shake of your head. “You tell me your dream and I make it happen, for a price.”

He chewed on his lip, his conscience trying to warn him it was a bad idea. “What price?”

You flicked your hand out and the piece of paper on the ground flew into your fingers. “You know the price. How old are you anyway, kid?”

“I’m sixteen, today actually.”

“Congratulations!” You frowned as it didn’t sound quite right and he did the same. “Wait, it’s happy birthday, isn’t it? We don’t exactly have them since we are fallen, not born.”

“That's really sad.”

“Hell help me, you are an emotional one.” You pinched the bridge of your nose as you felt the waves of empathy rolling off the teenager. “Listen, I’m all up for taking souls, it’s my job and I’m pretty good at it, but you seem like a nice guy so I’ll help you out pro bono as long as you don’t cry.”

“Really?” His excitement was almost as infectious as his smile as he grinned at your offer and you could tell that with a few more years of growth and maturity he would be as handsome as those goody-good angels.

“Really. So what’s your dream? And don’t go all ‘Disneyland’ and that shit, make it big.”

“I want to be a Formula One World Champion.”

“Fuck, okay, I said big not gigantic,” you said as you cracked your neck and then your knuckles before rolling your shoulders. “That will take some time to pull off, but we got this, kid.”

“Charles, my name is Charles Leclerc,” he said as he held his hand out. “Do devils have names?”

“Of course we have names, but names have power and I don’t know you well enough to share mine with you.” You shook his hand and he jumped a little at the heat difference since the hellfire made you run hotter than humans. That same heat flickered up your spine as you felt another calling at a crossroad half a world away and so you stepped away. “I’ll check in once a year to see your progress.”

“Wait, that’s it?”

You laughed darkly as thick smoke began to gather at your feet where the earth was opening to your home realm. The teen yelped as a lick of flame encircled his wrist but the scar that appeared just as quickly healed so no one would know he had been marked by the devil. “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2014 “I wasn’t sure you would actually come, I thought you were a figment of my imagination.”

You stepped out of the shadows and looked around the modest home that should have been full of his friends celebrating his 17th birthday. The air was thick with grief and it made your back ache from the weight of it bearing down on you as you watched the teenager stand with his back to you at a bookcase.

“Maybe I am,” you murmured as you walked over to him and saw his eyes fixated on a photo.

Placing the photo back carefully on the shelf he turned and you saw the difference a year had made. “I want to make a deal. My soul, take it.”

“Woah, slow down, Birthday Boy, you don’t know what you are offering.”

“I don’t care, I just need him to be alright.” Tears were swimming in his eyes as he grabbed your hand and squeezed tightly. “Fix Jules, please.”

Unable to resist, you reached out and touched the tear that ran down his cheek. Pain obliterated your chest, crushing your insides as waves of memories flooded your senses until you knew Jules just as well as he did.

For the first time since your fall a thousand years ago, you were envious of the angel you had been. You wanted to be the cause of his hope, but that wasn’t something you could give and you tugged your hand from his hold before they could blister his skin. “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“Bullshit! You are a dealer, you said so yourself.”

“That’s not how it works, Charles, I’m a devil. Don’t you see? The deals I make are selfish, the things people want for themselves. You want a miracle,” you sighed and felt the familiar ache where your wings once were, “I can’t do those anymore.”

“You got me into Formula Renault.”

“You got yourself there, kid,” you said as you stepped away. “I just whispered a few suggestions to people I knew would listen.”

It was a little more threatening involved but you weren’t going to let him know that. You hadn’t needed to do anything other than get someone to give him a chance since he had the talent to win all on his own.

“There has to be something you can do,” he pleaded, his green eyes swimming with tears.

You sighed as you stepped away, rubbing your temple as if you could actually get a migraine like a human could. “I can’t make any promises, but…let me see what I can do.”

You faded from the room before you could see the hope that filled his face and followed the memory of his visit to Jules, finding yourself in the shadows of a hospital room. The room was empty except for the young man laying on the bed, wires and tubes keeping his breathing steady. You were struck by the pain you felt and knew it wasn’t real but the lingering effects of sharing Charles’ memory of him, but that knowledge still didn’t ease the ache.

“Azrael, come down here.”

It only took a second for the angel to appear and she didn’t look pleased at being called away from her duties.

“You’re not an archangel anymore, you can’t just snap your fingers at me.”

“Obviously I can since you showed,” you pointed out. “I need a favour.”

“You don’t do favours,” she said as she narrowed her eyes.

“I do now. I need you to leave him alone.”

Azrael looked at the comatose man before reaching forward and touching his forehead and shaking her head. “He’s one of ours, he has to come with me soon.”

“You have no sense of time, whatsoever. Soon could be 50 years from now.” You crossed your arms and stared the death angel down. “I’ll deny three souls in exchange for his life.”

“You’d turn down three deals for Jules? Who is he to you?”

“No one, but he means everything to someone else. Do we have a deal?”

“Deal, he has until I next come back down, no more.”

You nodded in agreement hoping her sporadic trips to earth erred on a lengthier time away this round. Unfurling her wings, you felt a pang of jealousy arise as you watched her fade away only to hear the strong beats of her wings carry her higher.

You aparated back to Charles and found him slumped in a leather reading chair, an album of photos open on his lap. Droplets splattered on plastic sleeves, only to smear into streaks as he wiped them away at your arrival.

“I bought him some time,” you said softly as you fell into the seat opposite him. “I can’t say how long because I don’t know but for now he will live.”

Charles dropped the book as he fell to his knees and clutched your hand tightly, the gesture making you uncomfortable. “Thank you,” he choked as his tears hit your knee through the rip in your skinny jeans and turned to steam. He didn’t seem to be affected by the heat radiating off you, he didn’t seem to feel it at all as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your joined hands. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, kid,” you said ruefully, pulling your hand back from the touch. “Healing was never my gift. He will have to do that on his own.”

“He will, I know he will,” Charles said with certainty as he rose to his feet. “He’s the strongest man that I know.”

You stood up with a nod and realised this year he was the same height as you, seeing eye to eye after his latest growth spurt.

“I hope you are right,” you said, feeling the floor start to give way beneath you as you willed yourself home. “Until next year, Birthday Boy.”

Charles’ nose wrinkled at the smell of sulphur filling the room and he stepped back at the sight of the black plume swirling around your boots. “You don’t have to wait a year, you can visit anytime.”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” you laughed as the smoke climbed higher.

“Just because you’re the devil, it doesn’t make you bad,” he said with a shy shrug. “You’ve been nothing but kind to me.”

He was right in the fact you had been kind, something no one else would say about you. You couldn’t explain why you were different with him, why you couldn’t treat him like any other advantageous young man wanting to get ahead. There would surely be hell to pay if word ever got out about it.

The smoke reached your throat and pulled you down. “Maybe I made a mistake.”

16th October 2015 Charles would never know it but you had visited him throughout the year. You had kept to the shadows, watching from afar as he graduated to Formula 3 and came one step closer to reaching his dream. You were there by his side when he received the phone call that had devastated him, you had felt Azrael’s presence on the mortal plane and immediately went to him. You didn’t reveal yourself, not when the gut wrenching sound he made had you hate having fallen. You could offer him nothing so you remained hidden, torturing yourself with the knowledge of what could have been.

It was a little before midnight when you arrived at the busy nightclub. You should have just apparated into a bathroom stall but instead you had to produce a fake ID so the bouncer would let you in.

“Guess I can’t call you kid anymore,” you said as you found Charles in the VIP area and took a seat beside him. “Happy Birthday.”

“Who’s this angel, Charles?” his friend asked with a confident grin.

You tipped your head back with a laugh before you recovered enough to say, “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, but you call me D.”

Charles nearly choked on his drink at the snort he gave. “What are you doing here, D? I don’t remember inviting you.”

You leaned closer to see his cheeks flushed pink with the alcohol he was now legally allowed to imbibe in and whispered, “There’s only one place I need an invitation, and despite the name on the door outside - this isn’t Heaven.”

With a huff of annoyance he stood up and made his way out of the VIP area to the packed dance floor. Knowing everyone was completely inebriated you didn’t bother to follow him, instead you suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Leave me alone,” Charles growled as he turned his back, but everywhere he went you were in front of him.

Finally he gave up escaping and you shoved a hand on your hip as you asked, “What’s your problem?”

“My problem? You lied to me, that’s what!” The drink in his hand spilled over the rim of the glass with the angry shaking overtaking his body. “Jules died…and you weren’t even there. You never visited me and…I needed you. I needed to know why!”

You took the glass from him and tipped the liquid back, relishing the burn of the alcohol down your throat as he stared daggers at you. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, mortal.”

“Well, we never made a deal, so there’s no need for you to be here, devil.”

The words hurt more than you cared to admit and the glass shattered in your hand, ichor flowing from the wounds before they could heal as quickly as they came. Charles' eyes widened at the dark liquid coating your palm and he almost looked worried for you but you weren’t looking at him. Your eyes were fixed on your heels, the shoes uncomfortable compared to the boots you normally wore but you had wanted to fit in. For him.

“You’re right,” you muttered as you freed your hair from the constricting hair tie and kicked the shoes off. There was nothing to be done about the tight red dress until you were home, but you would be there soon enough. “Goodbye, Charles.”

16th October 2016 Try as you might, you couldn’t stay away. Unbeknownst to Charles, you regularly checked in to see what his latest accomplishments were. As it was, he was leading the Formula 3 Championship and was a sure graduate to Formula 2. He raced like he had the devil breathing down his neck, pushing the boundaries to the brink of disaster.

Maybe he knew you hadn’t abandoned him, or maybe he just didn’t care. You knew you definitely shouldn’t have cared but still you watched him grow into a man and mature as his career evolved.

16th October 2017 You had nearly started another war the day Azrael came for Charles’ father. For three days you stood ready to fight the angel of death for Charles’ biggest supporter while he visited the hospital to say his goodbyes. He had lied to his father, telling Hervé that he had signed to a Formula 1 team for the next year and you promised to make it happen - with or without a soul to bargain.

It wasn’t a difficult task to achieve, a small incident with Pascal Wehrlein making a seat available in Sauber. All Charles had to do was keep his head in the game and go fast like he always did.

When you watched him celebrate his birthday his eyes had glanced around the room and you wondered if it was you he was looking for. It was only when those green eyes landed on a family photo you pushed the silly thought away, he was just missing his father.

16th October 2018 “How long have you been there?” Charles asked the empty room.

How he sensed your presence, you didn’t know, but since you no longer needed to hide it you let the shadows fall away. Turning away from where he had been styling his hair in the mirror, he leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

His room hadn’t changed all that much, Ferrari posters still covered the majority of the walls but they were also joined by some models posing on hoods of cars. The twin bed had been upgraded to a double and was covered in a red and yellow bedspread that clashed with your trademark black outfit as you lay across it.

“How often do you do that?”

“Do what?” you asked innocently as you stared at his ceiling and not his narrowed eyes.

He waved a hand over your leisurely state. “This.”

You got off the bed and stalked across the room to the Formula 1 racer and found you had to look up at him even with the heels on your boots. “Don’t mortals leave home by now? I thought the 21st birthday was some big right of passage.”

You reached for the tub of hair product and sniffed at the vanilla scent before it was swiped from your hand. It smelled edible and there was another scent that was just as good but you weren’t sure what it was or where it was coming from until you leaned closer to him and inhaled.

“I just bought an apartment but it’s not ready for me to move into for a few more weeks. Will you stop that?”

“What is that smell?” Your head was swimming as if you were high but that wasn’t possible. “My head…”

You could barely stand upright as you felt drunk all of a sudden and Charles caught you as you stumbled back. “Sit down,” he said softly as he guided you to the edge of his bed. “Why did you come back?”

Your head lolled onto his shoulder and the room spun as the truth tumbled from your lips. “I never left you,” you admitted, your words slurring as the intoxicating smell left you dazed. “Not when Jules died…or your father, never…”

Charles frowned as your eyes closed and you fell back on his bed. He had spent so long blaming you, being angry at you, believing you had abandoned him when he needed you most but as you murmured in your strange state he realised he had it all wrong.

“D?” he called out as he shook your shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy and you curled into a ball as your stomach churned. “Because I shouldn’t care. You’re just a human.”

“But you do care,” he surmised as he grabbed the blanket and draped it over your shivering body.

“Devils don’t care.” You could hardly talk through your chattering teeth, the blanket doing nothing to warm the ice that had seeped into your being.

Charles curled himself up against your back and tightened his arms around the blanket as he tried to warm you. Nothing seemed to work until his voice spoke softly in your ear, “Then maybe you’re not like the others.”

The silence grew and he thought you had passed out when you muttered, “I had nowhere else to go.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a war…couldn’t choose a side…threw me out.” A yawn silenced your words and you snuggled into his arms, your nose finding that delicious scent strongest on his neck where you nuzzled deeper.

“My cologne,” Charles whispered and you realised you had asked aloud what it was. “You’re like a cat high on catnip.”

“Haven’t been high since I had wings.” You giggled, a sound so unlike you, but it turned to a sad sigh. “I miss my wings.”

Charles brushed your hair back from your face but you didn’t have the strength to open your eyes. “What colour were they?”

“There isn’t a colour to describe them. But you can see it at dawn…look to the east…the last star in the morning sky.”

“The Morningstar?” Charles looked down to see your lips parted with a soft snore and reached into his pocket for his phone. There was no way he was going to leave you in the state you were in, not even for his own birthday party.

16th October 2019 You had thought Azrael had forgotten the deal you made but she made sure to remind you of it when she crossed paths with you at the Belgium GP. Charles’ head had snapped your way the moment he heard the crash and you shook your head sadly. The only reassurance you could give him was that the young driver’s soul was at peace.

Before leaving with her precious cargo, Azrael had given you two months to keep your end of the bargain and you didn’t want to test her patience. The crossroads had been quiet and it took nearly the whole time to find three souls worthy of denying a deal, most people who offered their souls for their greatest desires deserved the eternal damnation in return.

As soon as your task was fulfilled you returned to Charles, to the only place you felt at home. After waking in his arms a year ago you had struggled with the duties expected of you, finding more and more excuses for the downturn in deals. After waking in his arms, you wanted to be more than what you were. You wanted to believe you could be more, like he believed in you.

“D,” Pierre greeted as he joined you at the bar. “Still looking as lovely as ever.”

“Still the charmer.”

His attempt to shift closer to your side was blocked by the heat radiating from you and he pulled back with a frown, brushing the oddity off in his tipsy state. “Where have you been?”

“Here, there, everywhere,” you answered absentmindedly as you felt Charles’ presence before you spotted him. “I travel for work.”

“Let me guess - modelling?”

“Dealing.”

“No way!” His eyebrow shot up and he leaned in to whisper, “Drugs?”

“Not quite,” you said with a laugh. “Something far more lucrative.”

Charles’ hand came to rest on the small of your back and his lips brushed your cheek. “Sorry I’m late, ma diablesse. What are you drinking?”

“I could do with a-” your voice trailed off as a fissure ran through the air and you turned to see what had just walked in the door. “Hold that thought.”

“What’s wrong?” Charles asked but you were already weaving your way through the crowd.

Waves of power rolled off the beast but no one would see the tusks spearing out of its face or the black soulless eyes, they would merely see a mountain of a man and a vibe that warned them to move aside.

“This is a bit out of your territory, Fowler. What are you doing topside?”

The demon looked over your shoulder and smirked. “Heard some interesting rumours.”

“And what rumours were those?”

“That some darling angel was caught up with a mortal, helping out for free. You know the rules. No soul, no deal.” Fowler’s hand snapped out and caught your throat, his claws threatening to tear it out. “Don’t forget who took you in when your family threw you out.”

“Fuck you, I’ve more than paid my debt,” you spat as you grabbed his wrist and seared his skin with the lick of your flames. “Don’t come and threaten me.”

“I don’t have to threaten you,” he chuckled as he cradled his hand to his chest and looked past you to where Charles was pushing his way to your side. “Mortals are so weak, a little accident is all it takes.”

There was no way you could let Fowler return to Hell with the information he had, your weakness, so you did the only thing you could to protect Charles. You rushed the demon as the ground opened, disappearing into the pit with him before Charles could follow. You called all of your power and funnelled it into your fire, pouring it down the demon's throat until he was smothered by the flames and a smoking husk that turned to ash as you crashed to the ground.

“Morningstar, what is the meaning of this?”

You bowed to Beelzebub before kicking away the ash that had settled on your boot and painted a dark smile onto your face. “He interrupted a deal, I couldn’t let that grievance go unpunished. Or did you want me to forgive him?” You challenged him with an arch of your brow until he huffed a sigh and waved the question away with the whip of his tail.

“So where is the contract for the soul?”

“Did you miss the part where I said he interrupted the deal?”

“I’m not sure if I liked you less as an angel or not,” he uttered from his throne of skulls.

“I have that effect.” You started to leave the way you came but a chain snared around your ankle and locked into place before you could escape.

“Not so fast.” You were thrown onto your ass as he yanked the chain and dragged you to the foot of his throne. “I find myself short of an enforcer,” he said as he looked pointedly at the pile of ash you had created.

“So find another,” you growled as you tried to melt the chain but it merely absorbed the heat you poured onto it, “there’s no shortage of brainless fools ready to serve you.”

“But look how that ended,” he laughed. “How about a deal? Ten years as my enforcer for your freedom.”

Freedom. Ten years was nothing, just a blip to an immortal, but you weren’t thinking of yourself. You were thinking what ten years would be for Charles. Would he have a wife and kids? Would he have won his world championship? Would he remember you?

“Two,” you countered.

“Five.”

“Deal, but on one condition.” You stopped fighting the chain and rose to your knees. “I want a soul.”

16th October 2024 You were beyond exhausted when you stumbled into the bedroom, using the last of your strength to find your way back to him. The last five years had been brutal and it was a miracle that you had survived to complete your end of the deal, much to Beelzebub’s chagrin. The bastard had thrown every impossible task your way but you had something he could never understand, hope. And it kept you fighting to the bitter end.

You crashed onto the bed as your legs gave out and he leapt up at the intrusion, the bedside lamp lighting up and illuminating his silhouette as he stared at you wide eyed. “Ma diablesse? You came back…”

“Always, Birthday Boy.” You reached for him, needing to feel him with your own two hands after missing him for five years. It was his face that had kept you alive and you cupped his jaw to pull him closer only to freeze at what you felt. “Charles?”

“What? What is it?” he asked with panic as he placed his hands over yours, holding them tight to his cheeks.

“You have a beard,” you whispered, turning his face to the side to see the styled hair on his jaw. “When did that happen?”

Charles laughed and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck as he crushed you against his chest. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”

“I would have been back sooner but I made a deal with the devil.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out an unassuming medallion. “A soul, my soul.”

Charles frowned in confusion as he trailed a finger over the symbols of an ancient language long forgotten. “What do you mean?”

“No more devil deals, if you’ll have me, I would be human.”

Shock rippled through his features. “You would give up immortality for me?”

“Hell is an eternity without you,” you said before you pressed your forehead to his, sharing his breath of life. “And if I never make it back to Heaven at least I will have had a moment of it here with you.”

Bonus scene here.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction

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lafaiette · 4 months ago

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Do you also feel like there is an ungodly amount of trash talk about Solas? Which would be fine but there really aren’t very many options to defend him????

That’s my biggest gripe so far. Like I feel like they are taking the choice away from me by making me be antagonistic towards a character that I don’t want to be antagonistic to in a game that is supposedly about CHOICE.

Sorry Lafiatte I’ve been feeling spicy about it lol.

OMG YES (under the cut because spoilers)

Everyone detests him, Harding is angry with him even before Varric gets stabbed, all insist what he did was terrible, that he was always distant and prickly, when we know this wasn't exactly true - he didn't want to grow attached to people in DAI for obvious reasons, yes, but he was always kind with his companions and the people in need. He always approved when the Inquisitor performed a kind action (like leaving flowers on a tomb) or said something nice.

If you use the outside camera when the Inquisitor first arrives in Redcliffe, you can see Solas kneeling down to help some hurt people on the road. That's who Solas was, not the cold person everyone (especially Harding) describes.

Also, no one wants to understand his POV - I think I have seen only Davrin "defend" him in one occasion, and Rook can sometimes say something positive about him ("He's lending us his help", "He's been nice so far" etc.), but it's really, really frustrating. Also, the constant repetition of the theme of regret - sometimes the dialogue seems written for 5 years old children playing a Pokemon game.

It's like the devs wanted the new players to hate him, and the old fans who never liked him to finally have the chance to say how much they can't stand him. Meanwhile the players who genuinely liked him, friendly Inquisitors and romanced Lavellans, are swept under the rug.

"Oh... you like Solas? Damn... good for you, I guess..."

I'm glad some people are liking it, but I can't see any love for the fans and the setting in this game, only fatigue and hurry. Understandable, after ten years of development hell, but damn, I'm sad.

#da:tv spoilers #theprairienerdtoo #solavellan #THANK GOD i haven't been obsessed with the series for whole ten years #i started focusing on other fandoms around 2017 i think #i think if i showed this game to old me from 2015 she would be miserable lol #also don't get me started on morrigan #suddenly talking trash about blood magic and missing her mother #HER MOTHER #WHEN IN DAI SHE CAN TELL HER 'i won't be the mother you were to me'#HER MOTHER WHO TREATED HER LIKE SHIT FOR YEARS

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spencerthespender · 5 months ago

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After finishing isas quest i literally had to do david moore’s quest (due to being urged on by a certain someone) and… wow i dont even know how i should feel.

In the scenario i understood everything from the MIG pad and that there is angsty, soggy mannequins with zombie tar inside the bottom of the ocean that may or may not have been freed thanks to us, the implications are terrifying.

Let me put my thoughts together slowly. First of all, when david said “I always sort of acted as the figure of authority here”, i feel like i focused on that more than i needed to but it feels like it has important implications. This town is indeed a small town, and theres not much things like emergency services here. The place literally has only one doctor. Not only does this give the characters a lot of weight and natural importance, but it makes their lack of presence felt deeply. Gotta love the small parts of this game.

Second, it’s genuinely sad how david had to spiral when making sure the puzzles were executed correctly. He’s not some loner, he has a social life and friendships. But his involvement with the MIG had to take that away from him.

Third, him making his way to the building himself is quite confusing, and it throws a wrench in the mental timeline of things. Does this take place before or after the player boltcuts their way in? It’s interesting.

Fourth, I think the ending sequence is just so good at instilling that dread of “we just did something irreversible”. The way you slowly wander through thick water as mannequins slowly go from being absent, to appearing through windows, to eventually swarming you is such a damn good way to represent realization.

———————————————————————

I really do wish we could meet david in a non-stressed environment. He seems like a chill guy, but we’re probably never gonna see that and experience that because of what he’s done, what he’s been linked to.

A lot of games in this scenario would maybe do some flashback or something to show off what he’d usually be like, but the best we get are other people reminiscing. No being shown anything. I honestly like it better this way, because it cements that feeling that this is serious, and he’s lost his innocence ever since what happened in the MIG. Devs blew it out of the water (pun intended) with this one.

#welcome to dorthpeck #point of no return roblox #text post

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lestappenforever · 1 year ago

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it’s funny to me how people project their hatred for lestappen both as a romantic pairing and as individuals onto their relationship. yes, people ship them, just like any other celebrity has been shipped with their co-star, band mate etc long before the internet existed. they are aware of this, it comes with the territory and so long as no one disrespects them or takes the ships to their face it’s okay (y’all know rps rules and this is not to talk about that)

what this is about is how people who hate them or hate seeing them together will say how charles hates max and just tolerates max because you know max is so annoying and the dev while charles is an angel princess who will just talk to him so as not to be rude and for pr purposes.

which this logic doesn’t even make sense because outside of the two of them, there are 18 other drivers on the grid. the funniest thing is that this evil max they claim charles hates and just tolerates is beloved and is friends with at least half and is cordial and well like by most. the same applies to charles. majority of the grid seems to get along (i recall half the grid went to horner’s cook out some time this year)

suffice to say, charles always seems intrigued by max and seeks him out after and sometimes before a race. they talk and you can tell they genuinely care about one another. yes, no one said they are best friends, or maybe they are not. they talk about each other in such a beautiful that i rarely hear them talk about any other driver. they do care, they probably even love each other now.

oops this got long. my point essentially was, people who make them seem like they are just doing things to appease fans or for or make them look bad. because i genuinely believe those two guys choose who they want to talk to or not talk to because they are mature adults. charles made it very clear in austria 2019 that if he was mad at max he wasn’t going to stand around and pretend to be happy when he isn’t. max has on several occasions made it clear when he’s pissed at other drivers, he is brutally honest about it. yet, he’s so soft about charles. it’s because they care about each other and have come so far. their relationship has evolved they are actually friends now (maybe even more not that we know) people should just stop projecting their insecurities and biases on those two and give them credit that they actually know what they are doing and genuinely respect each other. they are not some pretentious pricks who just want to appease fans. to what end? they are not even teammates.

This, this, this, a million times this.

Honestly, anon, anti-shippers are just so sad. In most cases, shipping is just a fun little thing people engage in because it brings us joy and makes up happy, and those anti-shippers that take it so damn personally have some deep-rooted issues they should probably explore in other ways instead of projecting their very intense feelings onto something that's just supposed to be fun.

I'm not implying you should be a fan of or enjoy every ship out there. Hell, there are plenty of ships out there I personally cannot stand. But, do I spend my time trashing them and trying to make those people who do ship them feel like shit? No. Do I go out of my way to try and prove how ridiculous their ship is? No. Why? Because shipping is supposed to be fun, and I don't take other people's ships personally.

If you have an issue with a ship, ignore it. Block their tags. Choose not to engage with or look at content of the ship you don't like. It's that simple.

The fact that Charles and Max actually do respect each other and do enjoy each other's company is clear as day. And those who try to insist that it's "all for show"? Please. F1 is one of the pettiest sports on the planet. If those two fully grown men didn't actually like each other, they would avoid each other like the fucking plague, they wouldn't bother pretending to appease anyone.

#Asks #Anon #Anon asks #Lestappen asks #Lestappen dynamics anons

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icharchivist · 9 months ago

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Right?

I can see it in the dialogues you posted from the members of the squad, that Aerith didn't just get fridged. It wasn't just "Aw man Cloud, that must've been rough for you, to lose your love interest"

Everyone is sad. Nobody glorifies her death, it's always "This shouldn't have happened and it sucks because she had so much to look forward to"

And I think that's exactly what makes it so effective

The game is willing to play it straight and really explore those feelings, which is so good to see, because a lot of media these days seems kind of afraid of being emotionally genuine. But that's a grievance for another day

But yeah. Good job, game

right!!! i'm glad even with only the screenshot you can feel it too.

Everyone just... really misses her so much, everyone is affected by her death, and they keep talking about how she should have lived.

It's genuinely what makes it so effective, it's those type of quiet moments where they're thinking about her even more than in the bombastic plan to save the world. They just miss her.. so much.....

On top of that like, FFVII allows different romance path, and tbh i'd argue all of them are still so focused on what the people Cloud can date are seeing an angle to the way he plays up his persona, that you can still interpret everything as platonic if needed. Aerith is a potential love interest, yes, but in any way, she's especially a friend. A dear friend that everyone cared about so much. It's not even about the heartbreak of a doomed romance because everyone platonically mourns her, and Cloud mourns her even if you don't go through Aerith's romance path either.

and yeah honestly i do agree that a lot of modern games don't especially manage to keep that momentum. Hell i keep thinking about the FFXV death the devs genuinely shot themselves in the foot saying "we're attempting to have the same impact as Aerith's death", but the character wasn't as important nor as present in the game as Aerith was, and after the death, so much more things go to hell and forth that you and the characters in the games are more focused on the direct suffering around them than on grieving (esp since aside from Noctis no one knew said character, hell, no one interreacted with this character until said death).

And it really makes me look at the way Aerith's death is done, with how they first show you how she's friend with everyone, with how hopeful she is with the future, that she's not defined just by her heritage, then showing how Aerith's death was specifically something Sephiroth needed to do because Aerith herself was the threat to his plan, and yet despite Cloud's breakdown and others horrors happening after Aerith's death, they still take the time to focus on the hole left by Aerith's death.

And it's just much more effective because you have the time to breath and rest and see how much losing Aerith affected everyone.

like. man it's just such a good character death in media. It's so emotional.

Aerith...........

#ichareply #anonymous #ichafantalks ffvii #ichablogging ffviiog

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kagekitsuneoflight · 3 years ago

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Genshin Twitter is genuinely insane they cannot stop picking fights with other gacha game fandoms.

Every week I see a tweet where genshin fans are quote tweeted into oblivion because they are terminally online. They are so stuck in their bubble of ‘Genshin is the best and any criticism or statement of someone enjoying one thing over genshin is a personal attack against me’.

This week some person, in response to someone calling Ayato’s design lifeless to their own opinion, and compares it to an Arknights character that they like.

Instead of ignoring the tweet -which was one of many in replies to a criticism to the reveal of a Sumeru enemy npc, which featured a much buffer body type than any that was available to a playable character, alongside a noticeably darker skin tone- they felt the need to defend Ayato, who, by looking at their profile, wasn’t even a favorite of theirs?

Specifically they called the character’s, who’s called Goldenglow, design quote “shit . Just a bunch of random design choices thrown together meanwhile ayato derives inspiration for the actual Meiji era of feudal Japan. But sure “lifeless” end quote. This in of itself is something that would be worth a couple dozen quote retweets, but meaningless in the end. It’s what they say next that sparks almost 2,800 quote retweets.

Quote “Like, the AK character design is just blatant hypersexualization for the sake of pandering to horny teenagers meanwhile Ayato has actual thought and inspiration put into it. You really thought this was a good comparison huh?” End quote.

For those of you who aren’t familiar with Goldenglow, this is her design.

She’s just wearing a short skirt and thing highs. That’s the only thing that stands out that could be seen as sexual. And it’s not even close to the focus of the art here. And that tweet blows up.

People are are comparing Genshin and Arknights characters, pointing out that oftentimes it’s *Genshin* that sexualizes it’s characters, with Mona being the main example used.

I have never seen the Arknights fandom be so bloodthirsty. In my experience, the Arknights fandom doesn’t usually get involved with drama like this. They seem comfortably in the “if you aren’t a fan that’s okay, just don’t bash.” type mindset. They aren’t afraid to poke fun at themselves either, and usually have a decent sense of humor. Most of Arknight’s drama centers around the devs and specific content creators.

I realize that Genshin has many young fans, and is a young fandom in of itself, but they need to learn that you can’t escalate every little criticism or opinions that disagree with your own. If someone responds with “I think this character’s design is pretty lifeless, I like this character from this game instead.” You cannot escalate it to “how DARE you say that?! Because HER design is HYPERSEXUAL!” You can always, always ignore it. And if you want to make your opinion known, keep it civil. “I disagree with you. I think her design is way too busy, I like my character because even though it’s simple, there’s still plenty to enjoy.”

And if you do have a Bad Take and get ratio’d into oblivion, try not to double down. Just slink back and lick your wounds so to say.

To keep in example with the catalyst of this post, this same person keeps doubling down. They’ve even gotten into some mild slutshaming in their replies. There was some art someone drew of three Arknights characters beating up Ayato, I’m pretty sure like the last panel as the one jojo meme where a guy sips some wine before joining the beat down. Clearly more of a joke than any actual malice behind it. Someone comments, quote, “This is what you get for calling Goldenglow design hypersexualized. It’s like calling someone’s little sister a hoe.” End quote. I genuinely don’t know much about Goldenglow, I stopped playing Arknights a good while ago. But from what I glean, she just wants to be a fashion designer, and struggles to control the electric powers she has. A wholesome, if slightly sad character. And of course, their response is, quote, “if your little sister is out wearing stockings with lingerie straps and a shirt ass skirt, I’ma call her and YOU a hoe. The fuck you on about ? 🤨” end quote.

Just by scrolling through the replies they make, anytime someone seems to mention them, or respond to them in a way they deem unacceptable to leave alone, they need doubling down. Keeps saying they’re right. Attacks people. To one tweet they responded, quote, “I’m literally in y’alls head rent-free.” End quote.

But I think the most ironic part of this all, with how they came after one character for being “hypersexualized”, is the fact they retweet anime girls with the boobs very very visible, with oftentimes the focus being on the boobs, or attention drawn to the boobs. Even twiters automatic crop seems to favor the boobs with some of these retweets.

I also took the effort not to mention or add screenshots of the tweets, mainly so people are less likely to waste their time on this, and to also make this more accessible for those with screen readers. I’ll do my best with the image alt image description feature as well, but I don’t promise quality.

This post isn’t here to spread drama, mainly to point out how often Genshin Twitter starts stirring the pot, and maybe convince people that they should practice ignoring and blocking more when they disagree with someone online.

#genshin drama #genshin impact #arknights #technically speaking.#long post #Twitter drama #hopefully I put the right tags so people can easily ignore it?#no but seriously genshin drama goes messy fast #shut up kage

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thefirstknife · 2 years ago

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Honestly, for how much I did enjoy the story elements in D1 and early D2 knowing how they came about just makes me so sad thinking about how much greater they could have been if there had been much better communication to get a more unified vision of the narrative and a lot less toxicity overall. It's such a shame. I hope that things really are much better now and keep getting better, because there's a lot of potential to the story and it's always a shame when bad environs strangle a good story. (Like, obviously the well-being of the employees is most important, but it's still a shame from the story side of things. Personally I've never understood that behavior--employees will create a much better product/service that consumers will shower more money on when they're happy and healthy and cared for by their job. And yet, over and over, we see tales of this through so many industries...)

Yeah, absolutely. One of the worst things was crunch tbh. Crunch always puts everyone in a high stress environment and you genuinely can't expect any creative work to function normally when everyone is on the edge of a mental breakdown. Like, ANY work really, but it affects creative work in a different way.

I often wonder what early stuff could've been like if these things never happened. There were cool ideas everywhere! It probably would've been interesting if not for ego-filled leaders that didn't want to treat others as equals and share the sandbox. It's definitely a huge shame that pretty much everyone lost in this scenario.

Vanilla D2 was a particular shame because at that point they already had a lot of stuff established and it was a chance to have a solid launch on an extra platform. But then they botched both of the first two DLCs, again.

Pretty sure that DLCs being handled in that way were just incredibly bad for crunch and stress overall. Like, that specific model is untenable. It failed both times and just ended up making everyone miserable. One big expansion and then smaller seasons throughout the year seem to be working much better.

This is also why a downtime at the end of the season is important. It gives devs time to breathe. Hopefully! I don't want them to crunch, I would rather have 3 months of nothing than devs losing their minds crunching. Unfortunately, a lot of the community feedback and bitching about "content drought" may be sending the wrong message to Bungie which is why I'm always very critical of people who do that. There SHOULD be "content droughts" aka weeks of no new content that devs can use to prepare new stuff, take time off, work on bugs, stuff like that. It's okay if there are some weeks with less players on. Take a break. Play something else.

#destiny 2 #ask #it's a lot of fun to imagine what could've been!

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unwrittenlibrary · 4 years ago

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Tee’s Summer Reads 🖤

hi all! as summer comes to a close and classes start back up again, i wanted to come on here and share some pieces i read over break that i just loved.

as always, heed to any and all warnings each creator has put in place. eighteen plus spaces deserve respect and you are urged to show them it.

— ➶ —

Bucky Barnes

i wished one the moon for you by @sunmoonandbucky • “After losing Bucky, you were devastated. So when Howard Stark asks for volunteers for an experiment, you're the first in line.” -> 40s buck & present bucky? love that lasts through time? love it

the shot heard round the tower & unwarranted weakness by @pellucid-constellations • “you just want to know if bucky has feelings for you. bucky just wants you to be okay.” -> these two pieces can be read separately, but i highly suggest reading them both because bucky is written so well and they made me feel warm all over.

see the world the way you do by @vanderlustwords • “you start to see color when you meet your soulmate. bucky thinks that soulmates are a one of a kind thing.” -> there are So many lines in this that just... sit with you. i felt so much reading this. that tight feeling in your chest, pure happiness, anger... i just absolutely loved this.

a little old fashioned by @gogolucky13 • “bucky is a bit subtle in telling you he likes you.”-> behold...sweet, shy comfort fic bucky. i go back and read this when i’m sad.

he’s a good friend by @markandlexies • “reader is tired of watching bucky go on dates with leah and flirt with sarah.” -> give me all the oblivious, pining friends to lovers. just incredible writing and a truly lovely piece.

tap by @houseravenclaws • “bucky never talked much, he fell in love anyway.” -> you KNOW i already love sarah’s writing, it was on my last list. HERE’S MORE! this fic tore me apart in the best way and i still think about it all the time. it has become a go to.

all the good things by @/houseravenclaws • “bucky’s been a little more than happy recently. sam thinks it has something to do with the pretty girl on the team.” -> need i say more? i needn’t say more.

i love you, you idiot by @chrisevansjellybeans • “we’re best friends but won’t say we’re in love trope.” -> this fic made my heart sore. i love when writers have the ability to show love through the smallest of details and this fic did that so well.

the things you’ve done by @divine-mistake • “what if the world ended tomorrow and all he did was spend his last day with you thinking about how you never hold his metal hand and you never walk on his left side and you constantly reach for his right arm?” -> OHHHHHHHHH MAN oh man this fic left me in shambles. absolute shambles and gave me a big, bright smile. insecure!bucky just does something to me. bucky is written perfectly in this.

cornerstone by @agentofbarnes • this is a piece of zee’s (incredible) barnes’ au where bucky and reader (babydoll) are married with kids. -> i love the entire barnes’ au, but this piece honestly meant so much to me??? seeing bucky as an incredibly loving and open father just makes me so happy.

leather jacket full of cats by @bucksfucks • “bucky brings home kittens.” -> nora doesn’t write fluff, but when she does it comes out absolutely incredible???? bucky and kittens?? PLEASE this made so happy (hi keep an eye out for more of nora’s work in the nsfw section)

bulova by @babycap • “in the five years between the two snaps that changed it all, life had moved on, as life is want to do. In the aftermath of that final battle, you discover that time waited for no one (least of all you), and those you loved marched forward into it without you. Sam suggests you volunteer at the local retirement community to keep you busy, keep your mind from lingering on what—and who—you lost. In giving back, you find that time can be just as generous as it is cruel.” -> this is a babycap (dev my love) fan account. i have never read such beautiful words & i am always so stunned by the amazing works that dev puts out. i get so excited to read them.

sunset by @belladonnabarnes • “bucky meets a pretty girl and her little sister at the zoo.” -> how did you know it was my dream to meet bucky at the zoo jaye?????? ahhhhh i loved this fic so much, it was so incredibly sweet i had the dopiest smile on my face when reading it.

crawl home to her by @wkemeup • “stranded without coms, alone, and bleeding out in the middle of a russian snow storm, bucky is content to let nature take its course. only you won’t seem to let him go.” -> this fic is a masterpiece. a genuine piece of art. i was on the edge of my seat reading it, hoping i could faster than possible just to find out if bucky made it.

suburbia by @/wkemeup • “posing as husband and wife, you and bucky infiltrate a quaint suburban neighborhood in search of a hydra hacker. perhaps if you weren’t so in love with him and he hadn’t broken your heart, the act of pretending wouldn’t hurt so much.” -> yeah this one HURT. in the best way, an absolute favorite. so so so good.

that was premonition, i think by @divine-mistake • “sometimes you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky. screw that ‘it’s better to have loved and lost’ bullshit. you wish you had never fallen in love with bucky barnes.” -> just so so good. i was speechless after reading.

Others

Sam Wilson

the summertime and butterflies all belong to your creation by @golden-bucky • “you’ve never been one for baseball, but sam wilson is enough to change your mind.” -> ok. listen. i HAVE always loved baseball and this fic made me dream of mr. sam wilson in a lil uniform and me cheering him on. it was so sweet and i just loved it. a dream come true.

scary love by @bvckysmoon • “the first ‘i love yous’ are always scary.” -> being in love with sam wilson? yes please! this fic is so tooth achingly sweet, i adore it.

that way by @belouva • “you don’t know what label to fall under anymore. were you his roommate, friend or his lover?” -> i love roommate! sam… the first two parts of this series are so good.

Steve Rogers

you don’t know by @/divine-mistake • “until her gaze falls on you and her lovesick puppy dog eyes morph into saucers, leaving her frozen in pure shock. that visage quickly melts away to reveal a smug smile, aimed right at you, and you know exactly what she’s thinking at this moment.” -> steve & plus-size reader! i actually teared up, this fic hit really close to home and is beautifully written.

Spencer Reid

the one where everyone finds out by @reidscanehand • “Spencer Reid is in love with Y/N, and she’s in love with him...only they don’t know it yet...and they might be are definitely going to be the very last to know. And since Spencer and Y/N happen to be surrounded by the best profilers in the country, the rest of the team is, of course, the first to piece together the romance. Little by little, bit by bit, the team solves the case of Spencer and Y/N.” -> i constantly go back and reread this fic… it means so much to me!

work wife by @differentkettleoffishalltogether • “Spencer can’t help but feel a little jealous when it seems like his best friend is interested in someone else.” -> best friend spencer & love confessions? yeah that’s what i like.

Aaron Hotchner

dream a little dream by @ssahotchswife • “Following an injury, the reader dreams about time spent with Aaron Hotchner and his son. She relives heartbreak about Aaron's relationship with Beth and the love she has for Jack. Aaron must come to terms with his feelings for the reader when she wakes.” -> aaron hotchner is my comfort man and this fic makes my chest ache

NSFW

just friends by @/bucksfucks • “you and chris are just friends, right?” -> chris evans please i’m free on saturday

forbidden fruit by @/bucksfucks • “you attempt to set your ex’s things on fire. bucky has a better idea.” -> dadsbestfriend!bucky has my heart and it’s literally because of nora’s writing

appointments by @buckycuddlebuddy • “bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.” -> ooooooooof i love this lil series so much

— ➶ —

these are all of my summer reads!!! i’ll definitely post another one after fall semester, this will most likely be a seasonal thing.

#good reads #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #sam wilson x reader #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotch x reader

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lastoneout · 5 months ago

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I am not a game designer or programmer so take this all with a grain of salt, but due to a huge change in the way the player and NPC models look as well as a small but noticeable shift in the look of the gyms and overworld, paired with the whole Unity fiasco, I've suspected for a while now that Pokemon Go quietly moved over to a new, possibly worse game engine(iirc part of the anger about what happened was that Unity was a really good engine and I know TONS of mobile games used it) or at least one their devs were far less familiar with, and just hoped if they didn't say anything no one would notice, and tbh while the game was a little buggy for me prior to this, now it seems to be much more of a mess(I stopped playing because I couldn't stand the new player/ NPC models, they give me weird uncanny valley vibes, but loaded it up the other day to check something and I could barely use the app) because it was probably a rush job and sadly Nintendo/The Pokemon Company don't seem particularly interested in giving their devs, especially ones they contract with for side games, the time and resources they need to actually make their games function, so it's just all been downhill from there.

As sad as it is unless this changes I'm probably gonna try to move as many pokemon as I can out of it and into Home just in case it gets to an oops all crashes state for me too(if I haven't reached that point already, judging by my last attempt to use it I'm not optimistic), but I'm genuinely pissed that they didn't alert players to the change because if they had I absolutely would have done that sooner, at least just with the ones I cared about the most, on the off chance something exactly like this happened. Engine shifts are really hard, you basically have to re-code the entire game from the ground up, and it seems like the only things they brought over were 2D assets/skins and the music as well as the models for the pokemon themselves since those have been used in like every game since X/Y so I assume they're easier to move from game to game than everything else, and again with TPC's recent history of fucking up their games in the time/money department, including games made by studios other than Game Freak, it's not hard to predict this going south. We really deserved a heads up.

Whatever the problem is though I really hope they get it fixed because I was also a daily player and used Pokemon Go as motivation to get out of the house, it was the one mobile game I allowed myself to spend a bit of money on occasionally because there wasn't really a lootbox/gatcha system I could risk getting caught up in, it never really felt pay to win, I could get access to almost every meaningful aspect for free just by playing a lot, and despite it's small glitches and some rare annoying mechanical changes I genuinely miss playing it. This really fucking sucks, the game might not have been as popular as it was around launch but it has a really dedicated player base with events all over the world and it even has it's own category at the Pokemon World Championships, so it falling completely apart like this really sucks and tbh makes me have even less faith in TPC as a company.

bro I'm so frustrated with pokemon go rn 😭

I took a break of over a month from the game after being a daily player for YEARS because it has gotten to the point where it was crashing every few minutes and was just utterly unplayable. I figured maybe there has been a buggy update and if I just took some time away, it would get resolved.

well this morning I'm feeling like it might be nice to go for an early morning walk, so I open the game back up for the first time in weeks, I install all the updates, I'm excited to see the halloween art on the loading screen and by all the new research tasks that are waiting for me

and then I try to click here

and the app immediately crashes :/ and does so every subsequent time I try it :/

so I can play the game but I'm screwed if I want to change my appearance, open gifts from friends or send any, check my progress on leveling up or badges or anything, etc.

what the fuck man this genuinely makes me so sad

#sorry for the essay I just feel very strongly about this #pokemon go isnt perfect but it was the one mobile game that felt like the f2p experience #almsot entirely matched the expirience you'd have if you dropped a lot of money on it #I never felt pressured to pay for stuff #the gameplay itself was the main point rather than gambling #plus I loved the gift system and postcards/stickers #I stayed connected with a lot of friends just sending them gifts and I adored seeing what stuff #existed where my friends lived and worked #made the world feel smaller in a good way #I hope they fix it I really miss playing

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horansqueen · 4 years ago

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Stuck With You - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Somebody

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32 🡪chapter 33

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

I never felt like this with somebody I never thought I'd feel like I do I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you I never had this rush in my body I never thought I'd feel something new I never felt this close with somebody Somebody, somebody but you

Something 'bout you and the way we fit Like the stars in the night, heat of you on my skin Hadn't known you for long but it felt like years From the second we met I knew things would change

click here to be on the update list

PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, AM CONVERSATIONS, STUCK WITH YOU, NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS AND MY ONESHOT ON HERE!

NIALL

A few days later, Devon and I had packed in silence. It was snowing and I kept glancing outside the window, seeing her from the corner of my eyes every single time. I knew I had been rough with her and I also knew that fucking her roughly against the wall of public toilets was a bad idea. At that time and with so much alcohol swallowed, It had seemed legitimate but now, I felt like an asshole and I had no idea how to handle it or what to think of it.

It was a good fuck, I wouldn't say different, but definitely not our best. I remembered the first time we had sex and the pictures she took, realizing she had never showed them to me, even if she had promised she would. Perhaps we had been so busy with our ex lovers and fighting with each other that we forgot about how amazing the few days alone at my apartment had been.

We remained silent a lot now and I hated it. I missed the sound of her laughter, her rambles and complaints, her comments while we watched a movie. The only thing I was still aloud to hear were the snores while she slept and I found myself sitting in my bed to listen to them a bit too much, and a bit too late at night.

I wanted to ask her to sit in the front seat with me in the car but I was scared she'd refuse and I was not even sure why it actually scared me anyway.

"Are you gonna ride with Lewis?"

"Mm, I'd rather ride with you." she admitted, glancing back at me before grabbing a hoodie and throwing it randomly in her bag. "Daxia and him are just getting on my nerves with their cute little nicknames and their non-stop affection. Did you know she sometimes pretends to purr? What the fuck?"

I let out a laugh and zipped my bag before turning around and letting myself fall on my bed to sit. "I know, I noticed. I think it's cute."

"Oh you would." Devon chuckled, shaking her head.

"What does that mean?"

She turned around to sit on her bed too, sending me a huge amused smile. It felt so good to laugh with her and feel like she actually cared about me that it made me want to lock the door and not go on that trip, keeping her here with me.

"The first impression you give is like, a fratboy." she admitted with a smirk. "Confident, a bit stuck-up, someone who brags all the time. Basically, you seemed to embody everything I hate in boys, especially those in college. But when we get to know you... you're a romantic, a softie. You've got the biggest heart I've ever seen in someone, and that makes you extremely endearing. That's why everyone loves you, that's the real reason you're so popular."

"Is it?" I just whispered, a bit shocked by all the compliments she had just thrown at me.

"Yes." she confirmed with a nod, sending me a fond smile that turned into a smirk. "Your face helps, too, I have to admit."

"Oh you think I'm handsome?"

She smiled more and tilted her head, nibbling on her bottom lip. "You know I do. Everyone does."

I wanted her to get up, walk to me and straddle me. I kept imagining her sitting on my lap, facing me, before her lips would meet mine. I couldn't stop thinking about my hands traveling on her body and her moaning in my mouth. I wanted her to whisper to me that she loved me while I made her cum. It sounded like the perfect scenario but I knew it wouldn't happen. I had made it clear I wanted more than just sex, and she made it even clearer that she didn't want a relationship. It was a mess, we were fucked, and I hated this situation more than I could explain. I didn't know how to handle it or change it. We had reached a deadlock and I couldn't find a solution.

Louis kept repeating me that she loved me but the more time passed, the less I was convinced. Was it even possible to resist that feeling for so long, especially when the other person is always so close? It didn't seem likely and my fate in the reciprocity of my feelings was faltering.

"My first impression of you was that you were a shy and boring girl." I admitted with a chuckle. "That's why I wasn't sure why I felt so connected to you. I don't think being around people who thinks art is useless is something I could easily do. But you turned out to be so fascinating, talented, funny and genuine. You're also a little cheeky minx, and I love how you don't let anyone walk over you, especially not me. And god knows I tried."

Her lips curled gently and she looked a bit embarrassed but I was not sure why. She licked her lips before pressing them together and finally, she chuckled.

"That's something I had promised myself when I left my old school, that I wouldn't let anyone walk all over me anymore. That I wouldn't be this... this vulnerable, naïve girl with so little self-esteem." she explained with a shrug. "It's nice to know I partially succeeded, even if it's hard to save my own heart, sometimes."

"Sometimes we just don't know how to really save it." I explained in a low tone, looking in her eyes. "Sometimes we just do it the wrong way, you know?"

"I don't know, I'm just trying the opposite of what I did last time." she confessed. I could read in her eyes how sad she was and it broke my heart.

"How does it feel so far?"

This time, she looked up and stared at me for a few seconds. "Not good."

I was trying to find the right words to tell her that she should give us a chance without being too aggressive but I couldn't find anything and after a while, my phone beeped. I sighed and grabbed it before reading Louis' text message.

"Okay, Louis is here. I didn't even know he was gone." I admitted with a frown.

"He's been so weird these days, and absent too. He's always super busy and doesn't answer my text messages."

"I think he's got a girlfriend."

Devon sent me a sad smile and shrugged a shoulder. I didn't know why she seemed so sad about it but I didn't try to find out. It was already hard to accept that she didn't love me the way I loved her, I really didn't need to start being jealous again, at least not of Louis.

"Yea that's one of my hypotheses, too"

We both grabbed our bags and got out of the building quickly, walking until we both spotted Louis' car. I held my breath but my lips finally curled when I noticed a cute brunette sitting on the passenger's seat and glanced at Devon to see her reaction. She didn't seem to think anything of it but I noticed she moved slightly closer to me.

"Look, I got to warn you two, Daxia invited Mandy and Noah, and one of them invited Abby." Louis let out as soon as we got close enough.

I glanced once again at Devon and at the same time, she had glanced at me. We shouldn't even care about Abby at all but here we were, and I was not sure why she was so much of a threat to Devon. Of course, I would be suspicious of Henry only because he's her ex boyfriend, so I could understand the aversion she felt for my ex girlfriend but at the same time, if Devon didn't love me, why was it such a big deal?

"Hey, Dev." Louis let out gently, grabbing her attention. "We won't let that ruin our trip, alright?"

She nodded and pressed her lips together before taking a quick look at the girl sitting next to Louis and then look back at him. "I'm gonna ride with Niall, okay?" she let out gently. "Give you two some intimacy."

She just sent him a fake smile and turned around. I was about to follow her when Louis yelled her name and she turned her head and raised her eyebrows up. "I just... I'm offering you the first drink, okay?"

It took her a while but she finally just nodded and we walked to my car before hopping in it. She threw her bags on the backseat and when I started the car, she immediately reached for the heating button.

"What's wrong? What happened between you and Louis?" I asked as I drove, following Louis' car the best I could.

"He's distant, and annoyed with me." she just shrugged. "People tend to get tired of me at some point but I honestly thought Louis was different."

"Devie, Louis isn't getting tired of you." I just explained, shaking my head. "He's got a new girlfriend, that's it. He's never gave up on me and he honestly could have many times. That's not how he is, trust me."

She remained silent but sighed and turned to look by the window. I would have given a lot to find out what was happening in her head but I didn't dare asking. We weren't back to being close, and we hadn't talked about those rough exchanges of words, whether it was the one we had late at night in the dark street or the one in the public toilets of a bar, and I was not sure we ever would. We could pretend everything was alright all we wanted, it was a lie. She was sad and I was in pain, and pretending we were fine was not going to change anything.

"Apparently, Daxia and Lewis are going to ride with Mandy, Noah and Abby." she finally said, taking me out of my thoughts. She typed something on her phone and my heart jumped in my chest when It made me realize that we were going to be alone again for a few hours. "That's a pretty loaded car." she added with a shrug.

"Not our problem."

"Nope, not at all." she agreed, leaning on the bench and bringing her feet up, placing them against the door of the glove box.

I noticed she had taken her boots off and even if it should bother me, it really didn't. I was in it very deep and I was literally drowning.

"That means we could have gone with Louis, save fuel and a car." she added, turning her head my way and making me chuckle.

"There's no way I'm riding with him. Not in that car. Plus, look at how slow he is. We're following him and it's a pain in my ass."

This time, Devon laughed genuinely and it made me smile. "I don't even ski, you know." she pointed out a few seconds later. "I'm just going because I'm really alone for Christmas this year, but I don't think I'll ski or anything. I brought canvases and paint, I've brought a few books and movies.. I mean I'll join you guys downstairs for a drink at night or a hot chocolate but I've never really been sportive or anything... and even less when it came to sports practiced in winter."

"Alright, no ski time for you. You know, we only go to spend time altogether. Some of us just also likes to ski."

The conversation continued for a while but when it stopped, Devon put music on and I started singing despite myself and she joined me. At some point she just stopped and even turned the volume down a bit. It made me chuckle and I glanced at her only to feel my heart jump in my chest at the way she was looking at me.

"Did I annoy you?"

"No." she whispered, leaning her head in the bench, sending me a fond smile and shrugging. "I just get so many feelings when you sing."

My smile fell and I licked my lips. It brought so many questions in my mind but every time I wanted to ask one, I stopped myself, either scared of the answer or of the way it would make her react. Before I knew it, we parked and took our stuff out, following Louis and his girlfriend in the hotel. We were walking in the lobby when Louis moved closer to us without looking at us.

"Look you two don't be pissed but, I sort of put both of you in the same room." Devon frowned while I raised my eyebrows and Louis just groaned. "Don't blame me. First off, the rest of us are sort of in relationships. I think Abby's got a room by herself so if either of you want to switch room to be with her, be my guest. Anyway, it's not like you two weren't used to share a room, right?"

We stopped near the counter but neither me or Devon had mentioned anything. Louis turned to us this time and his eyes moved from me to her and he finally rolled them. "Look I'm sorry, I just honestly thought you two would be dating by now."

I cleared my throat, feeling suddenly a bit uncomfortable, and noticed Devon bringing her shoulders up and wrapping her arms around herself, showing she felt pretty much the same. We had planned to meet in a few hours at the restaurant but it's only when Devon and I entered our room that my jaw dropped.

"I can... sleep on the floor if you want." were the only words my brain could form and express and it made Devon chuckle.

"Don't be silly, the bed's big enough for both of us." she replied, putting her bags near a side and taking her coat off before placing it on a chair. "Besides, it won't be the first time we share a bed."

Flashbacks of us cuddling in the bed of my apartment appeared in my mind and I blinked a few times as if it would make the memories even clearer. We had spent many days sleeping in the same bed but somehow, at that very moment, it felt totally different. I wondered if Louis had asked only for one bed for us because he honestly thought we were going to be together by now, or just because he's an asshole. Either way, it didn't change anything and I walked in the room to put my bags down.

I got ready to join our friends but when I got out of the bathroom, I noticed Devon in sweatpants with a book in hands. It made me frown and I grabbed my phone and my wallet, glancing at her.

"You're not ready?"

"Mm, no, I think I'd rather stay here." she admitted with a shrug. "I'm not really hungry anyway. Besides, I'm not really in the mood to see your ex girlfriend."

"Legit." I admitted, raising my eyebrows and nodding. "Do you want me to bring you something back?"

She looked up from her book and leaned her head against the pillow behind her. It made me want to kiss her and tell her once again that I loved her. It made me want to stay in the room to spend the whole evening with her.

"No, thanks, that's very sweet of you." she let out gently. "It's late anyway, I'll probably be asleep when you'll come back."

When I came back, however, she was not in bed. I frowned, realizing the lights were still on, and found her laying on the floor in a fetus position. She had put papers on the carpet to be sure she wouldn't make too much of a mess and she probably had forgotten her easel because her canvas was on the floor. I smiled when I noticed she still had a brush in hand and even more when I realized she fell sleep using yellow paint.

I turned to look at her panting and finally noticed the shades of orange and red all over it before crouching down to have a better look. I couldn't explain how good it felt to see her use other colors than dark grey and navy blue, and it made me wonder what exactly it meant. I took the canvas slowly and gently, placing it on the desk in the corner of the room before walking back to her and getting on my knees.

"Devie, hey, come on, let's get in bed okay?" I helped her up and she groaned, leaning on me and still half asleep.

I brought her in bed, laying her down and she quickly curled up again as I brought the covers over her. I got undressed and got under the blankets too, turning my body her way to look at her, my head leaning on my pillow. She looked peaceful and I noticed dried paint on her hands and forehead, wondering how long she had been asleep. The whole time I was at the table with my friends, I regretted not staying in the room with her but somehow, I knew she probably wouldn't have painted if I had been there, and the result was totally worth it.

"Mm, Niall."

I held my breath when she whispered my name and something twisted in my stomach. For a second, I wondered if she was awake but she started snoring softly again and I exhaled when I realized she had literally murmured my name while sleeping. It was the cheesiest thing ever and at the same time, I had never heard anything that made me happier.

"Don't worry Devie, I'm here." I whispered back. "I'll always be."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan college au #niall horan au #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

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beevean · 4 years ago

Note

Since you like unpopular opinions so much, may I ask for more Sonic unpopular opinions, 30th anniversary edition? :P

Ohh, Latin coming in asking for spicy takes out of nowhere :P

I’m probably going to repeat myself, but anyway...

- I have fun with ShTh. I had more pleasure in all-A-ranking that game than even attempting to try new missions in Adventure 2. I will never call it a good game and I completely understand why it’s considered among the very worst titles in the series, but fuck it I find it oddly adorkable and sometimes I feel the need to complete one of its absurd paths.

- Sonic 3 & Knuckles and Sonic Advance 3 are my favorite 2D games in the series and I love replaying them. Sonic 1, the Rush duology and Mania would come in second place, then CD and Advance 1, then 2 and Advance 2 (apparently I have a thing against sophomores lol)

- To expand on this, I think Sonic 1 is not a great Sonic game, but a very good game overall. Sonic 2, on the other hand, may have refined the Sonic formula and fixed many of S1′s flaws (such as reducing the number of acts from 3 to 2 to allow for more zones), but I feel like it’s barely as half as fun to play as Sonic 1.

- Marble Garden is one of my favorite levels in S3&K, I love how big it is and all the gimmicks and how Eggman straight up destroys these important ruins for the sole purpose of killing Sonic. Conversely, Stardust Speedway may be my least favorite level in the Classic series because it’s so incompetently designed - it’s not even “gotta go fast: the level”, it’s “where in the fuck are you sending me now, please let me go this way NONONONO DON’T HIT THE SPRING”. I find it very ironic then, not to mention satisfying, that in Mania SS Act 1 is a reskin of Marble Garden, just as it deserves :> (I still genuinely think MG should have been remastered in place of Hydrocity, which is so good in the original that the Mania devs only worsened it)

- I don’t really care for an Adventure remake because 1) it already had one, it’s Adventure DX, other games need it more (hello heroes), and 2) it’s such a polarizing game that how would you even “fix” it without pissing off half of the fanbase? Same thing with an Adventure 3 (or 4, more correctly :P) - considering how different the first two Adventures are, which characteristics should another title have? It’s too complicated, for me I’d just pick Sonic’s gameplay style in SA1 and build a game around that.

- There is no Sonic game with a good plot. No, not even Adventure and Unleashed, although I do agree that they’re the best written games. Remember that best doesn’t necessarily mean good and worst doesn’t necessarily mean bad.

- RCS is my favorite Sonic voice actor in the games, and he’s been consistently good since his debut unlike Drummond and Griffith. If you have a problem with the things he says, that’s not his fault.

- Lost World has some of the best characterization for Sonic and Eggman, and the idea of “Sonic almost dooms the world due to his character flaws” is great. Props too for having Sonic emote and show actual sadness, regret and anger, especially during an era where it seems like he’s only allowed to be cocky. I also don’t mind Tails being snarkier and meaner... I just wish the finale proved him wrong (and also wasn’t written with a pen stuck in a buttcrack).

- Elise did not deserve all the hatred she got for years. She’s as bland as a piece of bread left on the table for the entire night, but her concept is interesting and she doesn’t really do anything bad (or anything at all). also for the love of any god you believe in stop with the kiss jokes it’s not bestiality and it’s not necrophilia and it’s not sonic “making out with a princess” AAAAAAAAAAAA

- I don’t mind Boom’s characterizations because, in my head, those characters are not “really” the same as the ones in the game canon. Yes, in any other context, Boom!Knuckles would be beyond OOC, but... I don’t really register him as Knuckles? So I like his pseudo-Kronk personality. Same with Eggman and him being reduced as the village bully. (I don’t even know how unpopular is this opinion, but I know some people don’t like Boom due to how different the characters are)

- Eggmanland is probably in my top 10, if not top 5, favorite levels in the franchise. Too many difficult levels in Sonic are difficult because they’re cheap (Scrambled Egg, Cannon’s Core) or have some questionable design choices (Lost Impact, End Of The World), btu Eggmanland somehow, even the very first time I played it in 2009, felt like that kind of difficult that pushed you forward to try again and again. I never managed to get more than an A-rank, but it’s the best climax I’ve played in a Sonic game <3

- Sonic isn’t dead, dear youtubers who love making doom-and-gloom videos about Forces killing the franchise. Stop. You aren’t interesting. And while I’m at it, stop gushing about a game by shitting on others. If you want to say that Unleashed is great, you can say “Unleashed is great” without adding “unlike Lost World and Forces which suck ass”. Believe me.

- amy in advance 1 is fun you’re just mean

Your turn :D

#sonic the hedgehog #i probably forgot something lol #latin-dr-robotnik

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make-it-mavis · 4 years ago

Text

Homesick (Entry #41 - Finale)

02/03/88 11:53 PM

Hey.

...Hey.

I’m… really not sure where to begin. To be perfectly honest, part of me feels strange writing this at all. Not to say that filling this notebook has always made total sense to me, but today is different. Today is, well… today. This long-winded bedtime story has finally caught up to me. For the first time since I started, all I have to write about is what happened today.

I’ve never been quite so stuck on the fence between calling these entries ‘letters’ or ‘journals.’ I don’t know where I stand in this game of pretend I’ve been playing with myself for the past couple of months. Pretending I’m writing to you, pretending you’ll ever read all this. I don’t know. I guess I want to believe I don’t need to do this anymore, at least not today. Because with any luck, you saw everything that happened today, and heard everything that was said. What’s the point of telling someone about an event they attended?

But I’ll tell you about it anyway, because I want to record and remember every detail. It was overwhelming, and it somehow went by so fast, and I’m worried that I’ll forget something. My heart’s still kind of pounding. I feel a bit light-headed. I can still smell burning paper, and it’s making me a little sick, but it’s… well, it’s complicated.

Today was, of course, your funeral.

I’m not sure what I expected your funeral to be like. I’d never been to one. I’d certainly never prepared one. I wasn’t even sure a gathering of three could be called a funeral at all. But I did my best to make sure each of us would pay respects to you that were not given at the arcade-wide memorial.

I really had only one major request for Felix and Ralph. I wanted each of us, including myself, to write a letter to you. I could tell that they weren’t thrilled by the idea, but they didn’t fight me on it. I tried to make it as easy and open-ended as possible. I told them to just say whatever they would say to you if they had one more chance to do so, to be genuine about it, no matter what that might look like, and write it in the form of a letter. I didn’t tell them why that last part was so significant, and they didn’t ask. But it just felt right to me.

Once we fully settled on a plan together, it looked like this:

One hour after the arcade closed, we would meet behind Niceland. No articles of blue clothing would be allowed, and I would provide red color edits as needed, including on the flowers that Felix was tasked to bring. I would bring the picture frame with our drawings, and your scarf and goggles, to be placed on a table with the flowers. Each of us would read out our letters, and then fold them into paper boats, light them on fire, and send them down the river while I played a song I wrote for the occasion.

I was still working on the song by the time the evening came.

I was in Felix’s apartment when the arcade closed. I had spent most of the day in my den so that I could hear my own music over the sound of Niceland being pounded to bits, but eventually snuck into the building, picture frame and your belongings in hand, so that Felix would not have to come looking for me. When I heard ‘Quittin’ time’ announced and the wrecking stopped for good, I just tried my best to ignore it and keep plucking away on my guitar.

It was not long before I heard approaching thumps rising up the side of the building and, from the corner of my eye, saw Ralph’s face appear in one of the apartment’s windows. I was startled by the sound of glass breaking, and looked to see him still holding up the finger that he had tried to gently tap the window with.

“D’oh, darn it,” he grunted, before smiling at me sheepishly. “Hey, Mavis. Sorry.”

I set my guitar aside and walked over, kind of annoyed that my heart rate had not fallen since the startle. “Hey, don’t be sorry,” I said with a bit of a sigh, “I hate that window, too.”

He laughed briefly and awkwardly before scratching the back of his head with his free hand. “So… I’ll get out of your hair in a sec, I just wanted to make sure we’re still… Y’know, that this is still--”

“Yup. Still on in an hour.”

“Okay,” he nodded, pretty clearly nervous. “Okay, I’ll go get ready, then.”

He almost dropped, but I called him back with a short whistle. “Hold on,” I told him, pulling out my brush. He watched me quizzically, but held still long enough for me to reach through the window and touch the color red into the otherwise aqua undershirt peeking up under his collar. “There. Now you’re set.”

“Oh,” he tugged his clothes away from his chest to inspect the change. “Right, right. Okay. At least the rest of me is pretty red already, huh?”

“Well, you’re better off than Felix,” I said, cracking a small smile.

We said a couple strained, awkward goodbyes, and he disappeared back down the side of the building almost the second Felix walked in the front door.

At first, he said “Oh, Mavy,” in pleasant surprise, but when he saw the broken window, he repeated in a less happy tone, “Oh, Mavy.”

“Hey, for once it wasn’t me,” I shrugged. “Take it up with the Bad Guy.”

Felix mended the broken window as quickly as ever, and from there, we more or less carried on like we would have any other evening. Felix brewed some tea, we sat at the table, and he told me about his day, as usual. I pretended to listen just enough to seem like I wasn’t snubbing him while I continued to work on the song. I just kept my notepad in my lap and darted my eyes down to it whenever he broke eye contact. Eventually, he couldn’t carry the conversation on his own anymore.

“You haven’t touched your tea,” he pointed out gently. “Can I get you more sugar?”

“No, thanks,” I mumbled absent-mindedly, eyes down, and reached to take a sip of the tea to placate him. Once the cold, minty drink was in my mouth, however, I found it hard to swallow. It tasted fine, but my throat felt almost too tense to allow it. I tried to subtly spit it back into the cup, but I know he saw.

“Are you… alright?” he asked gingerly, like he knew how stupid the question was, today of all days.

“I’m fine,” I sighed, drumming my pen against the paper, still not looking up. “I’m just working on the song I said I’d write. I’ve got the melody, but the words just aren’t coming together.”

“Oh,” I heard him take a slow, thoughtful sip. “Maybe it doesn’t need words. I’m sure it’s lovely anyway.”

I paused to consider that, accepted it, scratched out all my attempts at lyrics and tossed the notepad and pen over my shoulder. “Yeah,” I sighed sharply, planting my elbows on the table and rubbing my brow. “Screw it.”

Felix was quiet for a while. I just kept my eyes closed, trying to escape the headache I’d been fighting all day.

“You know, Mavy,” he said slowly, “we don’t have to do this today. If you need more time, that’s alright.”

“No, no,” I sighed again, folding my arms and staring down at my tea. “I want to do it today.”

“That’s fine, too,” he said. “Just… you know, there’s no rush.”

“Yeah, there is,” I muttered. “For me, there is. I know that a couple of days is not a long time to plan anything, but… I’ve wanted this for way more than a couple of days. I just… I’ve had a lot going on. I haven’t exactly had the mental space to realize just how… how mad I’ve been this whole time. Mad about…” I lifted my fingers, “everything. And I know I’ve been pissy as hell in general, but there’s just been this shade of it that I… I haven’t been able to see.”

I finally glanced up at Felix. He was just listening, cupping his empty mug on the table. There was no pain in his eyes, only a desire to understand. So I continued.

“In counselling, I learned about the stages of grief. Anger is the first. It had been long enough, and I had done enough work on myself, I thought I had moved past it. But there’s been this… underlying resentment that’s gone unaddressed. I know what it is now. It clicked when Ralph gave me that picture frame. I was hit by the fact that it was the first real gesture of respect for Turbo’s memory that I had seen since he died. Yeah, I’m not angry at Turbo anymore. But Devs, I’m angry for him.

“Angry that the arcade-wide memorial only served to vilify him. Angry that I was assaulted before even getting the chance to start mourning, and I’ve spent all this time dealing with what’s happened to me and ignoring what happened to him. Angry that other sprites in counselling get to talk about their grief and loss without a single judging look. Angry that I feel like I have to apologize any time I bring up Turbo in counselling. Angry that sprites out there are literally changing the meaning of his name to mean the act that killed him.”

I took a second to breathe. Felix waited patiently, and I continued once I found a calmer tone to speak in.

“I remember the night before he died. I remember the shape he was in. If anyone else had seen what I did, they wouldn’t be talking like they are. They would know he didn’t deserve to die. I can’t stand being the only sprite in the arcade who seems to understand that. And now I finally have time and energy to do something about it. Even if it’s just me, you, and Ralph. Ideally, Tapper would be there, too. Ideally, the whole arcade would care enough to be there. But I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got.”

I shook my head. “I just can’t carry this anger a single step further. It has to be today.”

Felix smiled in a sad sort of way and nodded just a bit. “Okay,” he breathed. “Then we’ll do it today.”

The conversation ended after that, and shortly after, Felix excused himself to go gather the flowers he was tasked to bring, leaving me alone in the apartment for a while. It was enough time for me to practice the song a couple more times and try not to obsess over it. I felt like you deserved something better. Something grand. Something you would be happy to assign your name to while you were here. But I couldn’t manage it. I couldn’t even manage to write lyrics for the short, simple melody I came up with.

I guess missing you just doesn’t make me feel very musical.

After I was as satisfied as I was going to get with the song, I set to work coloring my clothes red, leaving only the already white parts unpainted. I was staring into the bathroom mirror, debating coloring the blue out of my eyes when Felix returned, arms full of flowers. I gave the flowers the same red-and-white treatment I gave myself, and eliminated every shade of blue from Felix’s outfit. He looks a bit weird in red, but I just couldn’t allow anything resembling Devout attire at your funeral. Nevermind blue being your least favorite color.

Once about an hour had passed since the arcade closed, we were all ready to go. There wasn’t a shade of blue on us. Felix held the color-coded flowers, and I held the picture frame and your belongings under an arm. Both of us had our respective letters we wrote to you in our pockets. I had my guitar slung over my back, tuned to perfection. Everything on the proverbial checklist was ticked.

But still, I stood there at the front door, one hand on the knob, finding it hard to make myself turn it.

“It’s okay, Mavy,” Felix said softly from behind me. “Take your time.”

I sighed through my nose, closing my eyes and trying to fight the quivering in my stomach. The gravity of what I was about to do had been squeezing me tighter and tighter as the evening went on.

“Hun,” Felix prompted gently, “I know you’re angry. But are you sure you want to do this in anger?”

I considered that, took a deep breath, and stood a bit straighter. “Yes, actually,” I looked back over my shoulder at him, speaking calmly despite my nerves. “I do. Waiting won’t help. I think I can safely say that delaying this is what made me angry in the first place. And... for once, I’d like to use my anger for something good,” I gave half a smile. “I won’t blow anything up this time. Don’t worry.”

Felix gave a quiet huff of a laugh, paused, and shook his head with a warm smile. “I’m not worried.”

I raised a brow.

He put one hand up a bit. “I know, I know how ridiculous that sounds. I know I’m the king of all worrywarts. But I mean it. I’m not worried.”

“Explain.”

Felix shrugged contentedly. “I trust you.”

I just stared at him, unsure if he had ever uttered those words to me before. I didn’t know what to say, so he continued.

“I trust you to do what’s best for you… and for Turbo. You’re the only one in the arcade who could,” he sighed, a bit of glassiness showing in his eyes. “And I’m proud of you. I know he would be, too.”

A bit blindsided in my already emotionally vulnerable state, I swallowed hard. Suddenly, my face felt much too hot. I nodded a bit, letting my eyes wander as the words sank in. I hoped he was right, but I tried not to think too deeply about that lest I turn into an emotional wreck before even making it downstairs.

So I just glanced at him and muttered, “Thanks, cuz.”

“Of course,” he smiled wider. “I know you’ll be alright. I’ve never been so sure of that.”

I allowed my own smile to show. “Yeah. I’ll make it.”

He chuckled. “It’s what you do.”

At that point, I finally found the resolve to open the door and walk down the hall to the elevator. We rode down in silence, and I managed to steady my breathing enough to gain confidence that I could keep it together through our modest little service. Once we reached the ground floor and stepped out into the hallway, however, Felix stopped me before the back doors of Niceland.

“Mavy,” he said, “a word before we go out.”

“What?”

“Well… I hope you don’t mind, but I took a couple... liberties with the service.”

I blinked. “Okay. What’d you do?”

“Just…” he stepped back, pushing open one of the double doors and nodding towards the outside, “...have a look.”

I had no idea what to expect -- Felix’s ideas of surprises are usually extremely underwhelming. But when I obliged him, and took a single step out of the building, what I saw stopped me in my tracks.

There was a crowd.

I saw the Nicelanders first. Behind them, I saw Tapper. And Peter Pepper. And Paperboy, two Joust knights, Mario, and Clyde. And Ralph, towering above them in the back. They were arranged in rows in front of one of the prepared tables, watching me, waiting for me in a reverent hush.

I felt, for just a moment, that I could pass out.

“Mavy… you okay?” Felix whispered.

I looked at him. Then back to the crowd. Then to him. I hadn’t the slightest clue what to say. My thoughts were struggling to keep up with my feelings. I was overwhelmed, equally on the verge of crying, yelling, and running away. But, somehow, all the same… my heart was swelling with gratitude.

“You did this?” I mouthed to Felix.

“I may have spread the word a little bit,” he replied, looking almost smug, in a very nervous way. “I just… I knew you wished he could have a bigger send off, and I knew you thought no one would even come, but… I wanted to prove you wrong. It’s not the whole arcade, but it’s something.”

I stared at him.

“Oh, Mavy,” he frowned, “I’m sorry. Did I do wrong?”

“No,” I whispered, looking back at the crowd. “Absolutely not.”

Finally, we both stepped fully out of Niceland. We crossed to the table in front of the crowd and found that a couple rows of bricks had been placed on it, almost like an altar to put the frame on. I did so, along with your scarf and goggles, and Felix laid out the flowers. After that, he clarified whether I was okay one more time, before stepping in line along the front row of the crowd, leaving me in the spotlight.

I looked at everyone. They looked at me. I silently thanked counselling for getting me accustomed to a certain level of vulnerability in a group setting, and I spoke.

“Wow… I’m almost speechless,” I told them, my voice faltering a bit. “I don’t know what to say, other than…”

At that point, my eyes landed on Gene.

I immediately snapped, “Gene, what the hell are you doing here? Get out.”

He threw his hands up, exclaimed, “THANK YOU,” and broke away from the crowd to return to Niceland. I watched him go, and waited until the door shut behind him to continue.

“Anyway,” I addressed the crowd with a bit more confidence, as Ralph struggled to stifle a laugh in the back, “it means a lot that the rest of you are here. Thank you for…” I sighed, “joining me in remembering Turbo properly. I… obviously have a few things to say, but I’ll hold off for now. Felix and Ralph have prepared remarks, and, uh… after that, if anyone else has something they’d like to say, you’re welcome to do so. I’ll take it from there after that. So…”

I met Felix’s gaze expectantly, and he gasped a little bit before nodding and switching places with me. I set my guitar down on a separate table, and then I stood by the crowd and watched him pull a folded piece of paper out of his chest pocket, clear his throat, and take a moment. The reverent silence from before settled over everyone once more as Felix found his voice.

“Turbo…” he began, “I’m afraid you’ll have to forgive me. This letter isn’t exactly the poetry you’d expect to be read aloud at a… gathering of this nature. Truthfully, writing this at all has been, well… a lot harder than I thought. I’ve written my fair share of letters on my own time. Boy, I even sent you one or two before, when you were still here to receive them. Whether you read them or just turned them into paper airplanes, I never really knew. But this one… I hope, wherever you are, you’re listening. Even if you don’t want to hear from me, there are things I need to say to you. More things than I realized.”

Felix paused to take a steadying breath before attempting the rest. “Turbo, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that it took me this long to truly think about you and how I feel. How I feel about losing you. I’ve been so preoccupied looking after the sprites who depend on me, I just… somehow, forgot to mourn. And once I did, once I started writing, I… Well, I cried. I know I’m a big crier, but even for me… I cried so much. Because golly, I… I didn’t realize just how much I’m going to miss you.

“It feels so strange to say it, because, well, you did drive me up the wall most days. You’d burst into my apartment in the wee hours of the morning, tracking in dirt on my carpet, raiding my fridge without so much as a ‘Hello.’ You’d show up uninvited to parties and be rude to the guests. On more than one occasion, you drove your car into our game and left tire tracks that tore up our lovely grass and flowers. But I miss it all, just the same. I miss feeling guilty for laughing at your... crass jokes. I miss being angry at you, angry enough that all my other problems felt like a breeze, comparatively. I miss seeing you in passing in Game Central and hearing every new, mean... frankly annoyingly clever nickname you chose to greet me with. I miss your laugh, your smile, your face… I miss seeing you at all. It’s strange, but I miss all the complicated emotions you brought into my life. You did drive me crazy. But I loved it. I’m just sorry it took losing you to make me realize that.”

At this point, he was pausing at the end of every sentence to wipe away tears from under his eyes, and as he went on, I could feel my own starting to sting a bit. “I wish you could have understood how loved you were. In the way that matters. I wish that you could have seen that you had nothing to be jealous of. You were one in a million, Turbo. No one will ever replace you. No one will ever forget you.”

Just for a moment, he glanced at me. “And I’ll never forget the happiness you brought to my family.” Then, sniffling, he closed out with, “Goodbye, Turbo. Goodbye, my friend.”

After that, he wandered over to join me next to the crowd and pulled out a handkerchief to blow his nose into. I watched him, eventually deciding to rub his back. Touching him is still a challenge, but… I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know if I could even say it right.

I had expected his letter to be almost entirely about your relationship with me and how it made him feel. I expected to be the bridge between the two of you, like I always seemed to be before you died. But, seemingly out of nowhere, he pulled out these deeply personal feelings about you. He himself felt guilt over not mourning you properly, just as I did. It made me think about the conversation we had shared about an hour beforehand, and how he must have been angry, too. In his own Felix sort of way. And how that might have inspired him, in part, to invite all the extra guests.

It just meant a lot to me, knowing you meant something to him.

After a couple moments of clumsily comforting Felix, I saw no movement, so I looked back over the crowd at Ralph. He seemed to be doing his best to disappear all nine feet of himself, but once we locked eyes, he surrendered and trudged to the front of the crowd. He seemed kind of nervous, fumbling as he pulled out his letter and unfolded it.

“Turbo, uh…” he began, pausing to stare out at his audience one last time before shifting his feet and clearing his throat. “Okay. Look. I'll be honest with you. When Mavis asked me to write you a letter, I was kind of confused. The letters are a nice idea, but… me? I was never your friend. We never got along. In fact, the very first time I met you, I very clearly remember you saying--” and at this point, he poorly mimicked your accent, “--’Don't tell me. You're a Bad Guy. I can smell a professional loser from across the arcade, even without the help a’ your severe body odor. Take a shower, ya might like it.’”

I didn’t hide my chuckle. I even heard one or two behind me. Ralph noticed, and seemed unsure if he was being laughed at or with. Either way, he took on a bit more of a solid tone.

“Yeah, you were a jerk. You didn't like me, and I didn't like you. But I'm still… I don’t know. Somehow, part of me is still sad you're gone. And not just because things have been so messed up since you left. I think there was just one thing about you that I might have, possibly, maybe, sort of liked.

“You were a Good Guy, but… you didn’t really act like one. A lot of Good Guys are jerks who pretend to be nice, but you never pretended. You never hid how mean you were. It’s weird to think of that as a good thing. I don't know. I'm not sure I get why that sticks out to me in my memories of you, but it does, so... I guess I will miss you, Turbo. Even though you were basically a second Mavis most of the time.”

That one got a bigger laugh, especially from me. Ralph seemed very pleased with himself. He had to clear his throat to snap himself out of a poorly timed smile. Frowning appropriately, he said, “Goodbye, Turbo. Rest in peace.”

He then walked back to his spot in the rear of the crowd, and a blanket of silence settled softly over us all once again.

By this point, I was feeling pretty sick. Somehow, I wasn’t crying yet, but I was incredibly anxious. The longer the service went on, the more I began to wonder if I was making a mistake, after all. Hearing the other two talk about you the way they did… It scared me for a lot of reasons. Not the least of which being I was probably going to have to read my letter in a moment, and it was a lot longer and a lot more personal than what they wrote. I knew that would be the case from the beginning, but when the moment finally came, I was not prepared for it.

And as the silence carried on, I only felt sicker. If no one else wanted to speak, then it would have to be my turn. I just stood there, fighting myself on whether I should wait longer or get it over with, until I heard the blessed sound of footsteps.

Tapper stepped out in front of the crowd.

Seeing him standing there alone, rescuing me from my anxiety for just a couple more minutes, I was finally able to process how happy I was to see him. Knowing that he must have closed the bar down to come support you and me, even after I nearly got his game unplugged… I mean, I could hardly believe it. A week ago, I thought he would never want to see me again. But he was there. He left his blue vest at home, out of respect for the dress code. He was responsible for the precious frame propped up on the table behind him.

And he had something to say to you.

“Turbo…” he began, sighing, “first, let me piss you off by talking about myself at your funeral. It won't take long. After all, I'm a pretty simple guy. I sell root beer, and that's about it. I barely ever even leave my game. But the truth is, I don't have to. I can go anywhere I want without ever stepping outside. I open my doors… and the arcade is brought to me. Everyone brings in little bits of their lives, whether they know it or not, and I get all the travel I need just from good conversation. But lately, well… I ain't been traveling so far. For the first time ever, my game isn't big enough for me. Not since my road to Turbo Time disappeared.”

He paused thoughtfully, eyes down for a moment. “I may not have ever physically set foot in there. Most of us didn't. But I know we all miss it. Some more than others, sure. And yeah, maybe it wasn't the center of the universe like someone would have liked us to believe. But Turbo Time was more than just a game. Turbo Time was a fact. Constant, stable, since the opening of the very arcade itself. I don't think any of us realized just how comforting it was, the idea that at least one thing in this strange, unpredictable world could remain unchanged -- Turbo Time's place in the spotlight.

“Now... it's gone. And I'm sure there's not a sprite in the arcade who doesn't miss it. Who doesn't miss that stability. Doesn't miss the things we could still believe when Turbo Time was here. So I speak for everyone, and I mean everyone, when I say: Turbo, you will be missed. And thank you for the years you gave us. Goodbye, old friend.”

Tapper gave me one short, meaningful glance, and the corner of his moustache tipped up just a bit in the hint of a smile. He walked away, but not before flashing just a flicker of a wink at me. It took a couple of minutes to understand what he meant to convey with that, but knowing Tapper, I figured it out. And it just made me even more grateful that he came.

I think that everyone else’s refusal to speak did not sit right with him. He knew everyone had something to say, so he said it for them. Because it was your freakin’ funeral, and it would be damn disrespectful to snub you like that.

Tapper’s the best.

Once he rejoined the crowd, I went back to waiting for a while. Deep down, I knew no one else would step up. I knew I was just prolonging my own suffering, but I felt rooted to the spot. I just stood there, staring at the point on the ground where I would have to stand. It was only a few steps away. It should have been easy. But everyone was waiting for me. I could feel more than one pair of eyes watching me expectantly. And in a moment, I would have to broadcast some very, very personal feelings to them. For a few moments, I wondered if I should have been mad at Felix for inviting everyone without permission, after all.

But then I thought back again to the conversation we had earlier. How I said, in a perfect world, the whole arcade would come to pay respects to you. In a perfect world, the arcade-wide memorial would have a complete do-over. The handful of sprites I stood next to was the best you were going to get. At that thought, I felt the same anger that inspired me to host the funeral in the first place.

I pulled the letter I wrote to you out of my pocket and looked it over for just a moment, contemplating. It was everything I would say to you, if I could turn back time. But I asked myself whether, given this opportunity, I wanted to speak to you or to them.

I folded up the letter and put it back in my pocket. I told Felix earlier that anger could be used for good, and I figured it was time to practice what I preached.

I stepped out in front of everyone. I deliberately made them wait just a minute longer while I counted every gaze pointed my way. Every single sprite was watching me, listening, which was no longer off-putting.

It was perfect.

“Let me start by thanking you all for coming, once again, and thank Felix for inviting everyone,” I said clearly and calmly. “This… event is long overdue, and undersized. So, what few guests you may be, know that your appearance here means a lot. A special thank you in particular to the Devout here who skipped the blue clothing, as requested. You see, Turbo was not Devout. He never was. Yet, somehow, a Devout preacher was the only sprite given the authority to speak about him at the memorial after his death. That’s why we’re here today.”

I paused, letting that point sink in, and picking my next words carefully. I was angry, but I had to stay level-headed. I had to use that anger effectively, or the very important message I was about to deliver would not land. Once I felt confident in my emotional balance, I continued.

“The preacher never knew him. No one who spoke that day knew him. Admittedly, he was a tough sprite to know. I could easily count on one hand how many sprites actually did. But no one knew him like I did. By rights, it should have been me who spoke that day. It’s a bit late for that now, but I can tell you what I would have said.

“I’d have told you what most people knew Turbo as. Arrogant, narcissistic, loud, belligerent, relentlessly competitive. You could get him to do pretty much anything just by suggesting he couldn’t. And no matter how badly he failed, he would always challenge you to do better.”

I heard a quiet chuckle or two from that, and smiled as I went on.

“Yeah, nothing, not even his game’s lofty track record, was ever so famous about Turbo as his ego. But he was also clever. And witty, and resourceful, and inventive. His garage was always cluttered with work-in-progress gizmos and sheets of... wildly intricate blueprints I never learned how to read. Framed on the table behind me is proof that we would draw together sometimes, and I always thought his art style was cooler than I let on. Sometimes we would sing, or even write music together, and it’ll likely surprise you to hear, but his voice and his poetry weren’t half-bad. Yeah. That guy was full of surprises, way more than anyone would have believed. And probably the hardest to believe of them all, was… he was afraid.”

I took another pause, figuring out how to continue without betraying your privacy too much. I needed to make everyone understand, but I still wanted to be respectful to you. Eventually, I continued carefully, a light tremor of emotion in my voice.

“He had the fame, the fortune, the status, the gamers’ full attention… but like anyone else in this arcade, he was… scared. He wanted to be loved. To be remembered. He wanted something real to hold onto. Some meaning that could hold its own against the universal fear of this life, the fear that someday our games will be unplugged and wheeled out that door to nowhere. Now, I know how I’ll remember him. I’ll remember him as the greatest racer this arcade’s ever seen. I’ll remember him as an artist, an inventor, a singer, a comedian. I’ll remember him as a person. Because that’s what he was. No matter how hard that preacher tried to twist his life into nothing but a cautionary tale, he was just as much a person as she is. As any of us are. Ignoring that goes far beyond disrespect. Ignoring that is outright dangerous. Because Turbo, no matter what connotations his name carries now, was not a monster. He was only ever one of us. We lost one of our own, and until we stop hiding and face the truth of his death, we will lose more the same way. What can kill one of us can kill more of us.”

I could see a few frowns in the audience. I knew my words were getting a bit scary, but that was good. It said to me that they were starting to get it. So I didn’t let up. I let my tone sharpen.

“Disobeying the program is not what killed him. Seeing no meaning outside of the program killed him. And yet, there was the preacher saying we ought to do the exact same thing. Place all our meaning on our code. She said that Turbo had a virus, that he was corrupted, that following the program will protect us from his fate. The program keeps your game alive, this much we can’t change. But it can’t protect us from everything. You can do everything right and still end up quarterless. New games are plugged in, gamers move on, for reasons we will probably never understand. That’s just life here. Life here is hard, and it’s confusing, and for the most part, our roles are the only things we can actually make sense of. But there has to be more. You have to find more. Your role is what you do, but it can’t be who you are. Because if that’s taken away, who are you? Why are you?”

I stopped. The silence that was once reverent had turned tense. I let my breathing slow as I took a good, long look at the crowd. I felt very little sympathy for the uncomfortable faces at first. Felix was just holding his hat in front of his belly, eyes wide, lips parted. Tapper’s gaze was steady on me, but his brow was furrowed in an almost pained sort of way. Ralph wasn’t looking at me at all. His eyes were low, staring at nothing in particular, squeezing his fingers anxiously.

I took in a deep breath, held it, and let a long sigh wash the anger and adrenaline out of me. That was enough. I could let them off the hook.

“Anyway,” I said lowly, sadly, “that’s my sermon for the day. Moving on... Well, speaking of roles... my role doesn't offer a whole lot in the first place. Some say Easter Eggs are good luck, but being one sure isn’t. You can go weeks without a second of gameplay. It’s hard to feel like you really belong anywhere, sometimes. You live in your game, sure, but… it’s hard to call it ‘home’ when you’re barely needed. It’s easy to feel like the least important sprite in the whole arcade. So, imagine my surprise when, four years ago, I found myself goofing off with the king of the arcade,” I smiled a bit at the memory. “It was so weird to me, hanging out with a guy so obsessed with status when I had basically none of my own. I thought it would have bothered him. But… that was one of the instances where his narcissism sort of… canceled itself out and made him a better person, I think. He was too concerned with himself to care. I asked him what he thought about me being an Easter Egg once, and he just shrugged and said, ‘The hell should I care?’ Like I’d asked him what I should have for dinner, or something. Not saying there weren’t things about me he didn’t like, and hey, he wasn’t perfect either. But there was trust there, I guess. Weird, snarky trust.

“So, I ended up spending a whole lot of time with him, and that was great, because being an Easter Egg frankly gives me more free time than I always know what to do with. Eventually, goofing off with him was one of the few things that made sense in my life. Even if it didn’t make sense to anyone else. I mean, not that everyone didn’t see why we got along so well. We were often told how similar we were, usually not in a good way. But why we did the things we did, I don't think many understood. And I wouldn't expect them to, because our fun usually came at everyone else's expense. Like the time we poured puddles of oil around game central just to watch everyone slip. Or when we'd play music in Ghosts n' Goblins so loud it literally woke the dead. Everyone here probably has their own story to tell…”

I made eye contact and managed a smile for each sprite I mentioned, “Like Mary, whose cake we ruined by switching her sugar and salt. Deanna, we were the reason the whole arcade started calling you ‘Dana’. Tapper could keep us up all night with his own tales of our misdeeds, and so could Gene for that matter, if he were allowed to speak. And Don, yes, any time one of your model boats went missing, it was nicked by us. We used to take them into Frogger and set them on fire, and watch them drift away down the river.”

Don in particular looked shocked, confused, and a bit scandalized, but resigned quickly with a small sigh.

“It all sounds… petty,” I continued, nodding. “Meaningless, shallow, self-indulgent wastes of time by two arrogant sprites who didn't give a damn about anything or anyone. And that's how I preferred to think of it too, most of the time. But I tell you… once, while we were watching one of Don's boats burn away as it floated along, Turbo asked me, ‘Where do you think it goes… after it's deleted for good? After the fire eats it all away?’ He wasn't looking at me, but I could tell… he wasn't smiling. I told him the only thing that made sense to me… ‘Anywhere but here.’ And… honestly, I think the idea of that was some kind of comfort. The idea that there was anything outside of what we knew. Many would say he only ever knew a perfect, privileged life. That he had everything he could have wanted. But, still… all we ever did was look for a way out.”

My eyes fell for a moment. I stared at the ground as I clenched my jaw, struggling to string together the heartache I felt into words. My emotions were finally starting to bubble over, and as much as I tried to fight it, my vision started to blur with tears. Almost at a loss, I just forced myself to start talking, my voice weak and quivering as I looked out at the crowd again.

“...Sprites said a lot of things about us. About… us. Some would call him my partner in crime, which wasn't the whole truth. Some called him my best friend, which... wasn’t the whole truth, either. A whole lot more called him my boyfriend, which, despite evidence to the contrary, he was not. Even I was never sure what to call him, or what he really was to me. But I think I understand, now that he's gone. Because I didn't just lose a friend... or a partner. I lost a place at his side… the first place I ever felt like I belonged. Turbo… he was my home. I... don’t know where the fire leads. I don’t know if it leads anywhere. I don’t know if he’s listening. I don’t know if he exists at all anymore. Out of all those, I don’t even know what I want to believe. Right now, all I know is… no matter how many games I see, no matter how many sprites I meet, no matter how many years I live… I’ll always be homesick. Always.”

I closed my eyes, unable to keep a few tears from falling. Trembling from the awful heat deep in my chest, I knew I was done. I couldn’t say another word on the matter. So, after a long, hushed moment, I turned my eyes to Felix and tipped my head in request for him to take my place. He obliged without question, wiping away the wetness on his own red cheeks. I wandered over to sling my guitar over my shoulder once again as he informed the crowd that it was time to take their paper boats over to the river.

Almost everyone started making their way over to the water, but a few stayed behind to exchange passing words with me or Felix, even though I was mostly staying quiet in an attempt to keep the tears reined in.

Mary approached me first, making an awkward, but genuine offer to bake me a cake when I was finished with my counselling. Even suggested that a small party be arranged. I wasn’t opposed to the idea, but I just thanked her and told her I would think about it. I wasn’t in any shape to be making decisions, and she seemed to get that.

Clyde didn’t get too close. He just put himself in my line of vision and offered a supportive, almost proud smile. I just smiled back and nodded, and that was enough for him. He floated away. I’m glad he was there -- I’m sure my grand display of vulnerability earned me some counselling points.

Peter Pepper, Mario, Paperboy, and the Joust knights came one after the other, all saying more or less the same thing. They had some fond memories of you and me, they wanted to show their support, and they were sorry for my loss. I didn’t know how to respond to most of it beyond muttered thanks.

Then Tapper approached me. There was a whole lot of pride in his eyes, too, as he smiled at me. He reached out to do our patented air-handshake, but I fully clasped his hand and shook it gratefully. He seemed shocked for a second, but laughed a little in pleasant surprise. At that point, I began falling over myself a bit in some attempt to come up with an apology even a fraction as big as he deserved, but was quickly stopped short. He told me that me getting help was the best apology I could give him, and that when I’m done, I should come find him to continue our drawing business, since his walls are still pretty bare.

Again, Tapper is the best.

Once all the conversations ended, Felix and I proceeded to fold our letters into boats, and I helped Ralph with his, since his fingers are so huge and clumsy. He thanked me, but he also seemed sadder and quieter than I expected him to be. Maybe someday I’ll talk to him about it, but I didn’t today. I just grabbed the picture frame, your scarf and goggles, and we all walked over to the river in silence.

I stepped up to the edge of the water, brush in hand. One by one, every guest approached me and gave me their boat, which I touched a shade of fire to with my paint, and gently placed them into the stream. As the process went along, I wondered what all of the letters might have said. I expected most of them to be blank, but a good portion of them had handwriting poking out under the folds. The thought of it put a terribly painful gratitude in my chest.

I sent Ralph’s down the water, and then Felix’s. And last of all came mine.

I held it and stared at it for a minute. It contained everything I wish I could say to you. Everything you should have known before leaving this world. Somehow, it seemed hard to let it go, to do any harm to it. But with all the faith I could possibly muster, I blessed it with a prayer, and sent it floating away in flames, like all the others.

I sat, set my guitar in my lap, and with the heaviest heart I carried in my life, I played your song.

Felix sat beside me, and Ralph followed a moment after, but everyone else remained standing for the soft, mournful serenade. I may not have found the right words to sing, but I hummed along gently anyway, quiet tears falling from my cheeks. I watched the little lights sail away, watched the paper blacken and curl, and the little embers escape into the air. I don’t need to tell you what it reminded me of. But, as painful as it was to relive even a moment of your passing, I knew that this was, maybe, the only way my prayer would be answered.

‘Wherever the fire took him, let it take these, too.’

My song ended before long, and I could barely see through the tears in my eyes, but we all watched until the very last flame burnt out, and only flecks of charred paper remained, carried away by the current. I sat there for a while, sniffing, wiping my eyes, keeping as tight a grip on my composure as possible. Felix pat my back very lightly until I was ready to stand up.

Once I did… it was over.

Everyone said their goodbyes, gave their thanks, gave their sympathies, but ultimately, had to go. Tapper and Peter Pepper had to reopen their games, after all. As the visitors made their way across the bridge and to the cord train to leave, Felix checked in on me. He asked if I wanted to come have dinner with what was left of the group, and just spend the rest of the night in each other’s company.

I declined. I told him that I needed some time alone, and that I was very tired. I haven’t slept much, the past couple days, and I told him so.

He understood, of course, and like a good friend, told me that he’ll be there whenever I need him. Ralph, finally speaking up, seconded the notion, saying that his ‘door’ was always open.

Felix almost went for a hug, but stopped himself, still unsure of my boundaries. On another night, I might have obliged him. Instead, I just clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Eyes glassy, with a loving smile, he did the same to me.

Then we went our separate ways. Felix, to Niceland. Ralph, to the dump. Me, to my den.

Where I fell to pieces and cried my heart out.

All the tears I had been holding back all night just… erupted out of me. I know I could have cried sooner. I know I would have been met with support. Felix and Ralph have been there for me in meaningful ways I won’t soon forget. But, today, I just… I need you. It’s physically painful how badly I need you. No one else will give me what I need tonight, and I can’t expect them to.

So, I guess that’s why I’m here, writing to you again. I can’t visit you any other way, now. I can’t believe how important this notebook has become. I started this ‘story’ in such a terrible, anxious, spiteful place. I was so angry at you for leaving me, and I wanted to tell you just how badly you’ve hurt me. But I’m not angry at you anymore. I almost wish that I was. Because now that it comes down to it, this notebook just feels like the only line to you I have left. There will be no more buff-fueled journeys into my memories, no more hallucinations taking the shape of you. And that’s all well and good, because buffs never filled the space you left behind like I hoped they would. Booze and buffs never kept me warm. Never listened. Never held me.

I don’t want them anymore.

All I want is you.

Once upon a time, this would be too sappy to say, but… Devs, I just want to fall into your arms. I want to vent out everything I kept inside today. Everything I’ve kept inside since starting counselling. Everything I’ve been fighting to keep contained so I can stay strong.

I am strong. Staying strong is going to be worth it. But sometimes, I need to be weak. I’m sure ‘weak’ isn’t what the sprites at counselling would want me to use, but… tonight, I want to be weak. I don’t want to need to be strong. For a while, I want you to be strong for me, and just… let me feel the hurt without endangering myself or anyone else, for once.

Let me play pretend for a little while longer, and tell you everything that’s on my mind.

Maybe some of it will make sense once it’s on paper.

You know… I’m just remembering a moment in counselling, when a sprite talked about how his worst fear came true, but knowing he had lived through it was freeing. I think I mentioned it to Felix last week, but as time goes on, I just… I’m realizing how true it is.

So many horrible things have happened. So much has changed. Sometimes, I still have trouble recognizing my life, and the anxiety surrounding that is suffocating. But every time I come out the other side and calm down, I find that reality is as steady as ever. Slowly, I’m getting used to the new normal. Even the painful parts. I feel… safe. Which, given everything I’ve written here, is kind of amazing.

And, with that safety, I’m given a bit of room to actually look at the good changes that are underway.

One of the biggest sources of pain in my life, and indeed, one of the biggest fuels for my addictive habits, has been the idea that I’m trapped. Trapped in my role by the Devs. Trapped in the grief of losing you. Trapped in my addictions themselves, even. All I’ve ever wanted was a way to escape. Yet, somehow, being locked up in cabinet arrest, being forced to attend stupid, boring counselling… I don’t feel so confined anymore. The arcade feels like it’s getting bigger.

I’m still too big for the life I was made for. That much hasn’t changed. But I’m beginning to think that I don’t need to cut off pieces of myself to fit into it. I think I can just… make my life bigger. I’m not entirely sure how, but I have to believe it’s possible. I mean, I did just preach the idea at your funeral. I have to find more. I have to make more. You managed to show me that. Somehow, through all the loss, suffering, and mistakes, you’ve left me with the knowledge of how important it is to look for more than you’re given.

It’s hard to feel grateful for that.

Truthfully, letting anything good come of this whole nightmare has been incredibly difficult. It still is. There’s some horrible guilt to it. Why do I get to be the one to survive? Why am I the one with a chance to turn my life around? Why couldn’t I have learned all this without having to lose you first?

But, you know… falling apart didn’t bring you back. It was no honor to your memory. It just caused needless pain, almost to the point of total disaster.

I learn from all this because I have to. I joined counselling because I had to make a change. I have to believe you’d be happy for me. Especially because… I can feel big changes happening, deep down.

I feel like I’m on my way to finding what ‘good’ feels like again.

I once told Felix that the search for ‘good’ had never felt so daunting before. I had so many fears holding me back. I was afraid to feel much of anything at all. Afraid to put down roots of any kind. Afraid to have anything real out of belief that I would break it. Afraid to be loved because I didn’t know how to accept it.

Accepting love is still hard, but I’m starting to see that it’s not a decision you can make for anyone else.

Even things about yourself you’ve deemed completely unforgivable will, somehow, still be forgiven. It’s a tough thing to wrap your head around, but hating yourself will not make others hate you, too. I mean… I still can’t manage to hate you, even after all the pain you put me through. Devs know I’ve caused a lot of pain to sprites who care about me, even before all this happened.

But, somehow… I’m not alone. I was never doomed to be alone. It’s taken me five years to realize that.

Along with it, I’ve realized that your mind can really become a world you’ve created around yourself. It feels like absolute truth and reality. But when you manage to look outside of that world, you realize how small your mind really is. The real world is a whole lot bigger than how you perceive it. Everyone has their own perception, too, probably very different from yours.

Everyone’s got their own colors. I have to remember that I can choose mine.

I choose to heal. I’m already on my way.

Even the funeral, scary as it was, felt like a big step.

I was afraid of how I would feel after. I was scared of the finality of it. I once believed all this to be a prank or a dream, and while I wanted to believe I'd abandoned those delusions… I think, even today, some small part of me still wanted to believe that you would spring out of hiding and relieve me of this cruel joke. Or that I could still wake up next to you and forget this whole nightmare by the end of breakfast. I was afraid that the funeral would feel like giving up hope, and in the process, I'd lose you even more than I already have.

It didn't feel like that, exactly. At least, not yet. For now, I feel… relieved. But exhausted. Like a huge weight has been lifted off my back, and after carrying it for so long, all I want to do is collapse into bed and rest. I am in bed as I write this, and I'm admittedly having trouble keeping my eyes open.

But I can’t seem to stop writing.

I know I should. I know I’m just pretending. I know I should get some sleep, because there is still so much more work ahead of me. Work that’s far more real and important than writing letters to a ghost. I’ve had an ache in my wrist for about a week, I keep having to shake this pen to get any ink out of it, and there are only a couple pages left in this notebook.

I’m just… afraid to stop. I’m afraid that it will mean this bedtime story is over. I’m afraid it will mean that it’s time to move on, and I’m not ready.

I’m not ready.

I’m glad I was able to give you some manner of send-off. I’m glad I was able to defend your memory. I feel relief from dealing with the anger I had been carrying on your behalf, and from the knowledge that I don’t have to mourn you alone anymore. I do not regret the funeral, not in the slightest. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t terrify me. You see, as the service went on, I noticed a pattern that just kept stabbing pins into my heart. Felix, Ralph, and Tapper’s letters all had a certain word in common, one that I neither wrote nor spoke.

‘Goodbye.’

As I wrote your letter, as I attempted to write lyrics for your song, as I improvised that speech about you, that word never crossed my mind. I did not arrange a funeral for the purpose of letting you go. I’m starting to see that I arranged it for the purpose of holding you tighter.

Through the whole service, I just couldn’t stop thinking about that moment in Felix’s apartment, when I was helping him clean up the ashes after my… explosive incident. When I was scrubbing the black off of his wall, and it struck me how time was moving forward without you. That feeling managed to be so healing and so devastating all at once. I accepted that I could never go back to our days together, but I refused to accept that I had to leave you behind entirely.

I can’t say goodbye. I knew you for four years, and I barely feel like I said hello. It feels like our story didn’t even end, it just trailed off into nothing. We began a new chapter the last night we were together, and then we just… stopped.

I just want to go back to that night. That moment when I realized how I really felt about you, and the few precious hours I was able to spend with you after. If I could do it all over again, I would have stayed up all night telling you everything I was too cowardly to say at the time. And the morning would never come to steal you away from me.

That must be part of why it’s so hard to move on. You were stolen. We promised to stay together forever. We had a future. For me, that’s everything. I came into this world already lost, with barely a role, barely any context. I could only ever see the day to day. The future was just this dark fog I ran into blindly. But then you came along. And you told me that no matter my future, you would be in it. You didn’t blow the fog away. You weren’t my destination. But you were a light. You were my star.

Then the sun came up, and took you away.

It’s so hard to accept that I can’t win you back. I can’t accept that my promise to you is out of my hands. I have to find a way to move on, and I will. But I can’t let you go. I won’t.

Listen, T… I said I was afraid the funeral would feel like giving up hope. It didn’t. I’m scared, but I’m more hopeful now than I’ve been since you left. I may have lost your light, but I have a clear direction to move in. I’m going to finish counselling and stay sober. I’m going to be free to roam the arcade again. I’m going to repair the relationships I nearly broke. I’m going to regain full color in my brush and take to the skies again very soon. It’s going to be hard. I know that. But I also know that I’ll be okay. I hope Felix is right, and you’re proud of me. I’m getting there myself.

But I swear… I can, and will, do it all without letting you go.

Forever. That’s what we promised. You being out of reach makes it harder, but I’ll find a way.

And… this is my most wishful thinking of all, but… I hope you’re keeping your promise, too.

Maybe it’s just the lack of sleep, but… I swear I can feel your eyes on me. I swear you’re curled up behind me, right now. My bed is never this warm when I’m alone. I know the illusion will be broken if I roll over, so for now…

If you really are reading over my shoulder… if the act of writing this feels like holding your hand for a reason… if I’m not just a lonely, heartbroken fool with an overactive imagination…

Keep your promise. Don’t let me go.

Rest here with me.

If there’s anything at all you can do for me, have it be this. Just stay by my side when I lie down at night. I’m so tired, Turbo. I am. I’ve dodged death more than once since you left. I’ve fought so hard to keep my head above water. I haven’t had a minute to just lay down my burdens and feel safe. But feeling you here, even in the small way I do now… I feel like I can breathe. I feel like our last night together never ended.

And it never will, because in Fix-it Felix Jr., the sun never rises. I’ve had many complicated emotions regarding the stars that glitter in the endless sky of my game, but tonight, I’m giving them a meaning better than any they’ve had before.

As long as I can see the stars, I’ll know you haven’t left me.

There’s never going to be a goodbye between us, Turbo. I promise you that. I’ll just say ‘goodnight.’ And I’ll say it again tomorrow.

And a thousand times more.

Forever isn’t over yet.

#fanfiction #fanfic #wreck it ralph #make it mavis #fix it felix #turbo #tapper #original character #homesick #epilogue coming tomorrow!!

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tellywoodtrash · 4 years ago

Text

immj2 27+28.11.20 lbs

27.11.20

lmao i was gonna get suuuuuuper mad at kabir for being in her room but then he’s like:

“hi.”

....................... and i instantly snorted happily. vishal is realllllllllly just so likable that i just can’t with him anymore. i love when adorable marshmallows like him and shrenu play evil. you just cannot fucking hate them!

blah blah humaara kamra, mera kamra nonsense.

shaadi ka joda gift. with that tackyyyyyyyyyyyyassss KABIR KI RIDDHIMA written on it. main marr jaooon par kabhi bhi aisa kuch na pehnoon, no matter how much i love the guy.

“kuch hi derr mein tum VANSH ki riddhima se, KABIR ki riddhima ho jaogi.” coz even in 2020, women are nothing but chattel to be passed on from one man to another.

riddhima is thinking fat chance, bitch.

telling him she’ll never wear red for him, coz “laal pyaar ka rang hota hai, aur main sirf ek insaan se pyaar karti hoon, aur woh hai vansh.”

“toh yeh bhi vansh ke paise se hi liya hai.” lmaooooooooo

ghani beizzati by saying she’s already bought a joda for herself, a white one. which honestly looks muchhhhhhhhhh nicer than the red one acc. to me but ok.

vansh checking his account balance and seeing that there’s charges for two wholeass designer jodas bought for a shaadi that’s not even gonna happen:

anyway kabir’s like ok who cares, colour doesn’t matter, shaadi toh tumhari honi hai mujhse blah blah.

kabir doesn’t like mandap setup. coz all white. and apparently aryan was in charge of it? coz he’s getting dragged by the collar for it.

good. i don’t feel any sympathy.

ishani is like dekh liya nateeeja iss loserrrrrrrr ki khushaamad karne ka? when has vansh ever treated you like this no matter how mad he’s gotten at you? he always protected you.

behen kyun bhains ke aage been bajaa rahi ho? yeh manhoos baaz nahi aana.

ishani flounced away and aryan’s now vowing revenge against kabir. abbe yaar, tera list toh kabhi khata hi nahi hota.

why the fuck are these ppl soooooooooo dressed up for a wedding they don’t even want to participate in? itna toh main apni genuine shaadi ke liye naa sajjjjjjoon.

suddenly ishani is allllll about bado ka sammaaan and parampara, pratishthaaaaa, anushaasan and all. lmao ok?????

tod di choodi uski kalaayi par. jaisa bhai, waisiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii hi behen.

shaadi mubarak indeed. lol.

riddhima’s calling vihaan and freakingout ki woh paise leke bhaag gaya. you are so fucking stupid sis, why would you give him that much fucking money BEFORE HE EVEN SHOWED THE FUCK UP??????????

“tum thodi weird nahi ho????” bhai obvious sawaal naa pooch.

anyway he’s like calm yo tits, untwist your panties, i’ll get there on time.

kabir instead of fixing his maatam waala mandap is back skulking around vihaan’s container box house. ladki ko shaadi karni bhi nahi hai and she’s sitting there ready from 3 hours before, aur yeh, jissko shaadi ki utaavli chadhi thi, is out doing randomassssss jasoosi, coz that’s the priority rn. sounds legit.

VIHAAN THE DUMBASS TOOK OFF THE CCTV CAMERA AND PACKED IT. GOD YOU’RE ALLLLLLLLLLL FUCKING AQAL KE DUSHMAN IN THIS SHOW.

kabir sneaking in with gunnnnnnn.

how the fuck am i supposed to take him seriously with these bachchon waale sports shoes?!!?!?!? GIVE THE MAN HIS COMBAT BOOTS BACK SO HELP ME GODDDDDD

he’s peeking in the door and making some threatening statements about oh ho yeh hai tumhara plan, main sab khatammmmm kar doonga and all, but we never see wtf he’s looking at and this show is fulllllllllllll of red herrings, so........ idc.

riddhima putting on previous mangalsutra for this wedding and..... guts toh hai bandi main. badiii dheent hai.

mummy coming and saying blah blah usse utaar do this is your new mangalsutra and lmaoooooooooooooo

this is the tackiest fucking shit i’ve ever seen in my life. what’s with their obsession of putting their name on everything!?!!!?!!? what are you, an eight grader?!?!!?!?

anyway, bored with this ainvayi ki dhamki waala scene, fwding.

blah blah 2 ghante mein kaunsa chamatkaar hona hai and all......... WHY ARE YOU PPL SO DAMN OVERCONFIDENT????

meanwhile kabir is back and now harassing dadi. KISI KO TOH AKELA CHOD DE.

actually, lmao, i’d love to see him go try this shit on ishani and angre. it would be fucking glooooooooooorious lololololol.

anyway, he wants dadi’s aashirwaad in the form of vansh’s saafa (pagdi/turban). ABBE YAAAAAAAAAAR. USKE UNDERWEAR DRAWER SE JAAKE USKI CHADDI BHI LEKE PEHEN. ITNAAAAAAAAA WANNABE VILLAIN MAINE AAJ TAK NAHI DEKHA. HADHHHHHHH HAI.

chikni chupdi baatein ki i’m just trying to be the son vansh was to this house. if i wear his saafa, it’s like uski aashirwaad aur duaein meri saath hongi.

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PICTURE VANSH’S FACE IS LITERALLY LIKE

anyway dadi is like really really fucking hurt by this and my god i wanna fucking murder kabir.

she’s literally telling him to pick anything else, it’s vansh’s nishaani and he’s like aap sab ke paas koi na koi nishaani hai, mere paas apne bhai ki koiiiiiiiii nishaani nahi hai blah blah and oh my god, this is truly the most villainous thing kabir has done, being thisssssss fucking emotionally manipulative. the absolute fuckkkkkkkk.

ugh anyway long story short. baandh diya dadi ne ukso saafa. bloody nonsense.

poor dadi phoot phoot ki ro rahi hai ki she’s losing vansh bit by bit. awwwww man it’s genuinely heartbreaking.

riddhima has witnessed this and is about to fuckkkkkk shit up lolll.

lmaoooooooooooo dayum.

wtf is your problem, i’m marrying you, why are you torturing the fam like this blah blah. kabir like physical, emotional, moral sabbbbbbbbbbb tarah se tod ke rakh doonga inn sabko and ugh god i just really fucking hate him.

but damn he just looks really good in this sherwani and hair all mussed up.

anyway he’s doing some real messed-up, genocidal dictator kinda talk and phew. is just askinggggggggg to be murdered.

and then lmao he abruptly switched to “bohut khoobsurat lag rahi ho tum; time kya ho raha hai???? ooooooh ek ghanta baaki hai.” and i legittttttt lol’d at the way he delivered it. I HATE VISHAL FOR NOT LETTING ME HATE KABIR IN PEACEEEEEEEEE.

riddhima panic-calling vihaan, wants to go check on him. mummy ne pakad liya, room mein badh kar diya coz K told her to handle riddhima’s bhagodi dulhan ways.

great. riddhima’s having a breakdown.

motivational call from the choti sarrdaarni. she kinda just looks like a tall baby shivangi joshi had with aditi dev sharma????

le, doosre show waale heroine ko bhi pata hai kabir kameena hai, iss show mein 3 episode pehle pata chala issko.

ok is the choti sarrdaarni delusional and having a make-believe phone call with the protagonist of her favt tv show IMMJ, coz she knows waaaaay more details than even the people in this house know about the plot and what went down. she’s talking about how vansh aakhri pal tak ladta raha and riddhima’s like huh, news to me, i just got there in time to see him spout some ghatiya shayari and then throw himself off a cliff.

anyway riddhima seems to have gotten strength from this deranged phone call, so............. good for her, i guess.

———————————————————————

28.11.20

next ep just abruptly started with kabir and mummy in riddhima’s room threatening her and i just.......... dude, whatever. i’m just gonna skim through this ep coz i know it’s just filler shit till literally the last 1 minute.

OK HE’S MANHANDLING HER AGAIN AND FUCKKKKKKKKKKK

dang helly looked evennnnnnnn younger in the first eps. legit baby face. at least now they’ve aged her up a lil with the makeup and styling.

he’s saying don’t bother waiting, no one is gonna come. OH BOY. VIHAAN ARE YOU OK????? ARE YOU OK??????? ARE YOU OK VIHAAN?!?!?!?!?

cue riddhima’s panic attack.

lmao kabir telling mummy ki iss shaadi mein ab koi speedbreaker nahi hai lol. heavy foreshadowing that ab se everything that can go wrong is definitely gonna go wrong.

suddenly at the speed of light kabir is back at the container home in his sherwani and saafa and holding vihaan at gunpoint????

oh. sapna tha riddhima ka. ouff. this stupid show has tooooo fucking many dream sequences.

someone give this bitch a klonopin coz watching her is making my anxiety shoot up.

mummy comes into room 2 min later and sees riddhima sleeping ghoongattttt and all. SURE. NOT SUS AT ALL THAT A BRIDE DYING OF ANXIETY WOULD TAKE A NAP 30 MIN BEFORE THE CEREMONY IN FULLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL OUTFIT. TOTALLY A THING THAT HAPPENS.

DUDE SHE PULLED A NURSE WAALI HARKAT AGAIN. LMAOOOOOOOOO. KISKO SULAAAAAKE AAYI HAI TU, AAFAT?!?!?!!?

askdjasldkjlsakdjlaskjdlaskjdlaskjdlkas. ALSO THE FACT THAT MUMMY RECOGNIZED HER FROM HER PRESS ON NAILS. LMAOOOOOOOOOO I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS SHOW.

LMAO RIDDHIMA YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR

lol mummy has to call and give bad news to kabir. and i am sad we didn’t get to see his volcanic reaction, which no doubt would have been epicccccccccccc.

10 MINUTES TO THE CEREMONY. VR MANSION IS 20 MIN AWAY FROM THE CONTAINER HOUSE (AS STATED BY V BEFORE) AND THIS SIS IS...........

RE DEVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

she finally got in and the whole place is empty. he practically lives in a storage unit, you telling me he went and moved his stuff to a whole different storage unit?????

new freakout within the pre-existing panic attack: kabir ne vihaan ko saaf kar diya ya vihaan paise leke bhaag gaya??

cut to fb: riddhima asking V all earnestly ki tum dhoka toh nahi doge na????

HIS ASS ACTUALLY SAID, LEMME TELL YOU A FACT ABOUT ME: I LOVE MY MOM. I SWEAR ON HER I WON’T BETRAY YOU.

AND SHE STILL DIDN’T GET THAT HE’S VANSH. MY GODDDDDDDD.

she’s like nope vihaan gave mummy promise so he won’t give dhoka. ah yes, the most sacred and inviolable of promises.

toh bacha alternative ki kabir has vihaan. 4th simultaneous panic attack in a panic attack. someone sedate this bitch.

aaaaaaaaaand kabir has sent a video of a bomb in VR mansion below the mandap. great.

and now he’s calling to say ki get your ass back home or imma scramble these eggheads called the raisinghanias.

lmao the bomb is counting forwards instead of backwards????

mummy saying MY BETA SMAAAAAARTEST. haan, tha..... kisi zamaane mein. ab nihaayati bewakoof ho gaya hai.

lmao kabir accosted a passing by angre and is like you need to be loyal to me as you were to vansh and lol angre’s like saaf saaf shabdon mein, fuckkkkkkk off.

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO KABIR WENT TO HURL THE NAARIYAL AT ANGRE’S RETREATING HEAD HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA MAN HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO HATE HIM HE’S SO FUCKING HILARIOUS

lmao he goes to phodofy naariyal and:

abhi bappa ko huullllllllll de raha hai. overconfidence ki hadh toh dekho.

riddhima is back and hunting for the bomb and kabir comes bouncing the fake bomb around and she’s legit like TUMNE MUJHSE JHOOOOOT BOLA?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!? lol bitch, seriously???? because he’s been the paragon of truth and virtue up until this moment??????

“apna hulia sudhaar ke aao. 5 min mein mrs. kabir banne waali ho. thoda standard toh match karo.” lmaooooo the sasss and disdaaaaaain he said that withhhhhh. boy knows he’s looking damn good today.

anyway blah blah shaadi has started. dadi is sad af. to the point where ishani is looking really concerned. i really love this soft ishani.

“kaash samay ka paiyya ulta ghoom jaaye aur mera vansh wapis aa jaaye mere paas.”

dadi, shoulda asked for world peace instead. just the one wish you had and you wasted it on getting your hellion pota back.

some more in-room threatening of riddhima by mummy. while riddhima is throwing out last minute prayers to bappa and vihaan ki bas just do something and stop this whole shitshow.

vihaan ka toh pata nahi, the shady fuck, but bappa like: