#link kept deleting for some reason but it's fixed now

[tyrannuspitch]

Okay, there's useful information in this post, but there's misleading stuff too, so I'm going to try and add some nuance.

First of all: Transandrophobia.

Transandrophobia is one word used to describe transphobia as experienced by trans men. You could describe the theory around it as "activism for trans men's rights" but it is not "Men's Rights Activism". MRAs are specifically antifeminists; they're not legitimately concerned with groups of men who actually lack some human rights (such as poor men, black men, gay men, or trans men), only with (re-)asserting patriarchal "rights" that they think have been lost to feminism.

Meanwhile, I've never met someone who uses the word transandrophobia who was not informed by and engaging with feminism. The word transandrophobia (and later variant transmascphobia, and even later, antitransmasculinity) was created specifically to get away from the word misandry and its MRA connotations - because, as trans men have been very clear, we're talking about a situation unique to trans men and transmascs which is not meant to imply anything about cis men, or trans women, or anyone else.

The major objection to transandrophobia, by and large, has always been: "but that implies cis men are oppressed for being men!" But it really doesn't have to.

Transandrophobia is not an "intersection" of transphobia and misandry any more than biphobia is an "intersection" of homophobia and heterophobia. It's something that arises ONLY when you are both trans and a man, just as biphobia arises ONLY when you are attracted to more than one gender. Or like how anti-effeminacy is not simply hatred of femininity, but hatred of femininity where it "doesn't belong"; and butchphobia is not hatred of hegemonic masculinity, but hatred of masculinity where it "doesn't belong".

Masculinity and manhood are not oppressed in and of themselves, but they can colour experiences of oppression. Just like how attraction to other genders is not oppressed in and of itself... but when you're also attracted to your own gender, it, again, colours your experience of oppression.

So, as it turns out, you can't talk about gender or queerphobia without talking about men sometimes. You can't talk about transphobia without talking about trans men sometimes. This is all most trans men are trying to do.

But people had a (fairly justified) kneejerk negative reaction to the use of "misandry" in, like, 2012 - and now everyone keeps perceiving alternatives as "disguises" for a secret MRA agenda rather than genuine corrections and improvements, and so the discourse gets poisoned and polarised over and over again.

Of course, there absolutely are trans men who hate trans women. And while i haven't personally seen it, I can absolutely believe that some might try to get trans women's blogs banned. But telling people to be cautious of ALL trans men who talk about transandrophobia is like telling people to be cautious of anyone who uses the word "biphobia" because some bi people are homophobic. It's just not representative of the actual situation.

Second of all: baeddels.

The word baeddel was first revived in the early 2010s as a reclamation and self-identifier for trans women. It was adopted by a niche group of transfeminists; they were not and are not the only people to use it, but they were associated strongly enough that it became a byname for their politics. When people use it now, they're saying you have similar views to this group - views which include total transfem separatism (ie, discouraging members from interacting with any other genders, even cis women and other trans people, as far as possible); extremely binary (and anti-nonbinary) framings of the world; treating binary womanhood as a moral obligation; and a toxic, pessimistic atmosphere that might these days be called "doomerism". This group has been described as a cult, including by ex-members.*

So calling people baeddels is a pretty heavy thing - but it's not really the same as using a modern slur. It was a slur, once, (although its range might have wider than "trans woman" - it might equally have referred to gay, GNC, or intersex people - historical categories are vague and don't always align with modern ones!), but it's not one now. No-one grew up getting called this; no-one gets it shouted at them on the street or graffitied on their house. No-one living remembers a time when this happened. It's primarily a political term now, part of niche internet trans discourse.

And to be clear- throwing the word around might very well still be transmisogynistic! You should be very cautious who you compare to members of an alleged cult! But its roots are a little more complicated than a lot of people know.

*Unfortunately, most compilations of testimony/sources on this subject include a lot of dead links, as people delete their blogs, regret becoming involved in the conversation, etc, so information is hard to track down. One thing that's still up is this history of the movement: https://medium.com/@greyson.not.horses/lets-talk-about-b%C3%A6ddels-a-comprehensive-retrospective-a59784bf311b

for those unaware

there's currently a massive wave of transmisogyny(specifically aimed at trans women, if i have to make that clear) that is composed of

staff banning multiple transfem users with no explanation and deleting every image they've ever posted with the claim that they violated TOS. this is goes from pictures of your face at different points of your transition to a silly meme you may have posted. the purpose is to wipe all evidence of your existence clean from tumblr.

terfs and transmisogynists (typically those who espouse that 'transandrophobia' or 'transmisandry' for the bolder transmisogynists out there; think of it like the trans edition of the men's rights activist movement) are currently teaming up to mass-report trans women on this site, which gives staff an excuse to ban a trans woman then refuse to explain why the trans woman in question was banned

terfs (and let's be real, transmisogynists also) are going to multiple trans peoples' ask inboxes to spread loose rumors about trans women; for instance, this post, which was aimed at a friend of mine, avery. this is being done with the intent of socially isolating specific trans women with the intent of causing lasting damage to our lives.

on top of all of this, the transmisogynists have revived a slur from the fucking middle ages, "Baeddel," specifically to use it on trans women. this is in the midst of a growing anti-transfem movement within the transmasc portion of the community.

as a trans woman, i have to ask all of you to be extremely careful about what action you take regarding asks you get spreading rumors about people. if the person that's being accused is a trans woman, what you've been sent is more than likely a lie, and almost 100% part of a targeted hate campaign. if you see someone posting under the transandrophobia or transmisandry tags in your feed, careful! you've got someone in your feed that really doesn't like trans women!

i would also advise turning off anons, as i have, whether you're a trans woman or not. hopefully needing to show their faces will mitigate their ability to harm us.

[rotomblr-multiverse-cataloguer]

Hi, I'm the rotomblr multiverse cataloguer. I'm here to figure out how many universes are connected to rotomblr and who lives in which one. After this there will be a list of them and their inhabitants, once I start acquiring data.

I have tried, but I can't find any better way of showing the graph than just having the obsidian files automatically added to a repository on github. I'm sure I've seen at some point that there is a way of showing the graph there too, but I can't find it now that it's connected. If I do, I'll change it, but for now you have to download it and place it in an obsidian vault if you want to see the graph and be able to click the links to get directly to the note they say they go to. Ignore the plugins installed if you do that, just delete the folder, none of them are used in the graph.

((Also, I didn't say it before, but pelipper mail and magic anons are on, but I will ignore magic anons if they go against what I want to do with the character (I don't think it will happen often, but still).))

Here's what I look like:

Log of the changes and whatnot under the cut:

//@whys-rotomblr-hub for anything related to this or any other of my characters.

Ok, apparently github doesn't allow people to see private repositories, I should have checked that yesterday instead of today, but gitfront should fix that by allowing people to see, even if it means having to manually update the view, because I think that's one of the things it can't do. It should all be working now.

Added README.md to the repository to explain it a bit better.

Added CONTRIBUTING.md and made the repository public. I don't know why I kept insisting that it had to be private, as I see no actual reason to not make it public. I will update the gitfront thing to reflect this so people that look at it there know. Now, it should always be updated (every ten minutes).

Added a lot of tags so it's easier to search for some specific type of user, like those that research the multiverse or those that can timetravel.

Organized the universes in two folders, so it's easier to look for those that have or don't have rotomblr.

Organized the accounts and characters folders with a folder for every universe.

Added links to the blogs in their corresponding nodes.

//Added tags for the mains of those running the blogs

[its-queenofthesilence]

I Cannot Live Without My Soul! Part 6 of ?

Notes:

Have some AndrAIa lore dump that while be relevant in this story but also not because I may or may not have planned a sequel. Or 5.... Also Megabyte being a grump, lmao.

PLEASE NOTE: Going forward, this is going to be edited in a way to remove stuff that violates the TOS. Nothing super graphic just smut basically. I know we have mature filters but I am not sure how Tumblr feels about smut so. Things removed will be replaced with blackouts or redacted, if you would like to read the uncensored version, please see the FF.net or A03 (Recommended) link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57835603/chapters/147208144

Chapter 6: You Cannot Fix What Is Not Wrong

Enzo Raphael Matrix(1) was bored. He had been scared initially when he had been throw into the holding cells, worried for his friends and family. But you could only be scared for so long before it gave way to other feelings. Anger, resentment, acceptance. Now he was just bored.

It had been a cycle, and he had nothing to do but bother the troops guarding his cell for attention, much to their annoyance. Feet against the wall, laying upside down on the bed with his head hanging off, he was whining as he repeatedly tapped his foot against the wall.

“Will you stop that!”

It was more of a request than a demand from the binome with a mustache that he can’t remember is called Chancy or Custard. He thinks it’s Custard.

“I’m Bored.” he said simply, refusing to stop tapping the wall.

‘Custard’ let out an scream, his sanity slowly whittled into nothingness every moment he was left in charge of this kid. "You're our prisoner, not our guest. You don't exactly get to be entertained."

Enzo (1) rolled his eyes, the tapping increasing in speed. "Come on Custard, can't you at least let me out for a bit? I promise I won't try to escape or anything."

Chancy let out another small scream, barely contained behind clenched teeth. Or what equated as teeth for a binome."For the last time, it's Chancy! And absolutely not, I'm not letting you out of that cell. You're a prisoner, how many times do I need to tell you?!”

Enzo (1) let out an exaggerated sigh, finally relenting on the incessant tapping. "But I’m boreeeed.” he repeated, whining.

Chancy shot Enzo (1) an exasperated look. "Well, you're just going to have to deal with it. You're lucky we're keeping you alive at all."

Enzo (1) crossed his arms, pouting petulantly. "This is so unfair. I didn't do anything wrong!"

"You're associated with the Guardian and those other troublemakers," Chancy retorted. "That's reason enough as far as Lord Megabyte is concerned."

The copy opened his mouth to argue further, but was cut off by the sound of the door to the holding cells sliding open. Both he and Chancy turned to see another Binome stride in. A bit portly around the middle with a fading hairline, the other man seemed tired.

“Captain! Please tell me you have new orders. Anything but guard duty.” ‘Custard’ begged.

“‘Fraid not, Lord Megabyte still hasn’t ordered any attacks yet.”

“Still? It’s been a cycle since he took over the Principal’s Office and still no plan for wiping the rebels out?”

“No, I heard from some others that he’s been having Herr Doktor run tests on him; something wrong with his code apparently.”

“What about Megabreath?” Chancy breathed in once, then exhaled slowly. He knew he had been given strict orders not to kill the kid but that was becoming harder by the second.

“Nothing that concerns you kid! I swear to the User, I am going to delete you.” he growled, walking right up to the energy field separating them. Enzo (1) just started tapping the wall again with his foot causing the man to scream.

“Lieutenant, what’s the issue? The Lord told us to leave them alive.” The captain said, irritated. If there was one person not cut out to be a Neo-Viral, it was Chancy. The man had no sense of keeping cool and collected. Yet Megabyte kept him around for some reason.

“He’s being annoying!” the man gritted out to his superior.

“So take a walk solider, they’re not going anywhere. Honestly, use your head!”

The pair walked off, leaving Enzo alone with his thoughts. If he was big and smart like his bigself, he would try to break out. But he was just a small sprite with nothing to help him escape. Sighing, he sat up on the bed and turned to look over at Phong.

Megabyte had either been kind enough, or didn’t care enough to put both sprites in a shared cell. It made him feel a bit better. Phong however had been quiet the last few days. Medics had been in to stabilize him and make sure he didn’t just delete program (Megabyte needed him alive, other wise he wouldn’t have bothered) but the elderly sprite seemed lost in thought almost.

"Phong?" Enzo called out hesitantly. "Are you ok?"

The sprite in question slowly lifted his head, his wise eyes meeting Enzo's. "I am as well as can be expected, my child," he replied wearily.

"Do you think the others will come for us?" Enzo asked, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

Phong let out a heavy sigh. "I am certain they are doing all they can to mount a rescue. But Megabyte has the entire Principal Office locked down. I fear it may not be so simple."

“Is that why you are so quiet? ‘Cause you’re scared of what’s going to happen?”

“I will admit, I am afraid but no young sprite. I apologize, I have been thinking.”

“‘Bout what?”

Phong paused. He didn’t know how to tell it to such a young sprite, or if he should at all. There were just somethings that Enzo shouldn’t know about yet.

He’s worried for the others yes, but he’s more worried about Dot and extension AndrAIa. He thinks back to the Wedding, what would have happened if Bob had not shown up. The Wedding Night.

Despite insistence that he had standards, the old vector sprite couldn’t help but worry that in his pursuit for revenge, the virus intended to harm the pair more than just torture and deletion. He remembers the look on the Viruses face, looking at ‘that’ video file. He had not been able to see the entire video (or the other one really) from where he had laid but he had seen enough to know what the virus was looking at.

If he was capable of torture, mayhem and destruction, why not [REDACTED]?

Phong let out a heavy sigh. "I do not wish to worry you, my child. These are simply an old man's concerns. Let us have faith that our friends will find a way to rescue us."

Enzo nodded, though he could see the worry etched on Phong's face. The elderly sprite was always so calm and collected, to see him this unsettled was also unsettling for Enzo.

��Phong?” he asked timidly, pressing his back against the cell wall.

“Yes, my child?”

“What’s a ‘whore?”

To say he was angry would be an understatement. He was enraged, infuriated, rabid, incensed; he could go on. With a snarl, he over turned a gurney that had been shoved into the corner of the Medical Bay, not able to contain his anger.

A cycle of scans and tests, and still no answer to his problem. In the mean time, his plans for vengeance had been put on the back burner as he tried to deal with the increasing need for AndrAIa her that had been building within him. The virus, nor the doctor by extension, had not been able to sleep properly in a week, his body overworked and overtired.

Every thought was now related to the Game Sprite in some way, shape, or form and he couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like he was going to explode.

“I thought I told you to find the problem!”

Herr Doktor who up until now had been trying his best not to nod off from lack asleep, found himself wide awake as he became the target of Megabyte's outburst, quickly backing away from the fuming virus, still holding the .doc file that contained the results of the most recent scan.

"I apologize, mein Herr! I'm trying mein best. If you could tell me vhat I am looking for..."

“I told you! Any changes in my code!” The virus reached down to pick up the doctor by his neck and began to squeeze; not enough to harm him but to state his dissatisfaction.

"A-ah, mein König, Maybe ve should start vith your symptoms rather than lo-looking at your code. It vay be easier." choked the Binome, struggling to breath a bit.

By now, the mad scientist had gotten out of his lord that something had happened when he encountered the Game Sprite in the hallways of the Principal’s Office. Unfortunately, his lord was reluctant or unwilling to provide any more detail than that.

With a snarl, Megabyte dropped the smaller creature, allowing him to quickly scurry backwards and out of grabbing range. The virus puzzled for a moment, debating the idea. Herr Doktor was probably right, starting with symptoms would probably be easier, or at least give them somewhere to start.

"Very well, let's start there then. What would you like to know?" he asked, trying to reign in his temper.

Herr Doktor straightened his rumpled lab coat, clearing his throat nervously. "Vell, for starters, vhat exactly happened vith the Game Sprite? You mentioned something...unusvual occurred between you two."

The virus paused, his clawed fingers tapping against his chin as he considered how much to reveal. "It was...strange," he began slowly. "There was a burst of light that came from her that began flowing into me, causing me- us, to glow. I've never experienced anything like it before."

Herr Doktor's eyes widened, taking a moment to jot something down on his organizer.

“Vhat else Mein Herr?”

Megabyte's brow furrowed as he tried to put into words the strange sensations he had felt. "It was...odd. The light only lasted mere nanoseconds but when it was gone, I felt a surge of emotions that I've never experienced before - a sense of contentment, even happiness.”

He paused, a look of frustration crossing his face. "But it didn't last. As soon as the hacker intervened and she fled, the feeling faded leaving me feeling…I don’t know. Now I just feel...off. Unbalanced, in a way I can't quite describe."

Herr Doktor nodded thoughtfully, jotting down more notes. "Interesting. And have you noticed any other changes? Anything physical or in your behavior that is out of the ordinary?"

Megabyte frowned, thinking back to the previous cycle. "I've found myself...distracted, in a way I'm not accustomed to. My concentration has been poor, and I find my thoughts constantly returning to AndrAIa." He let out a frustrated growl. "It's maddening. I can't seem to focus on anything else."

A look passed over the Doctor’s face, one that Megabyte couldn’t place. It was a look that was part confusion, that he understood, but also part something else, like the doctor knew something he didn’t.

“What?” he barked, the need for answers overwhelming.

“What do you feel when you think about her?”

“What? What does that that have to do with anything? I already told you, content. What more do you want?”

Herr Doktor shifted uncomfortably under Megabyte's piercing gaze, but pressed on. "Mein Herr, humvor me. In detail.”

“Fine! Happy, warmth, like I am able to infect the entire net at once, like I am going mad because I cannot bare the thought of her not being near!”

Herr Doktor's eyes widened as Megabyte rambled off his symptoms in increasing frustration. He hesitated for a moment, pondering how to broach this delicate topic.

"Mein Herr, I believe...I believe what you are experiencing may be a form of..."

He paused, trying to find the right words. "Infatuation. Perhaps even...love."

There was silence, and then, a deep guttural laugh that sent chills down the Doktor’s spine. He knew his lord enough to know what kind of laugh this was. This was not an amused laugh like when someone said something he thought was funny (usually revolving around Dot Matrix) or one done out of politeness. This was a laugh that meant someone had done or said something so stupid, that it infuriated the lord to no ends.

Megabyte's laughter rang out, dripping with derision and contempt. "What did you say?” he hissed. The claws, while now always out do to his new form, seemed to extend further as fury overcame his face.

Herr Doktor swallowed nervously, realizing he may have made a mistake. "M-mein Herr, I’m not saying that’s w—what it is! I was just speculating!”

The virus didn’t bother to grab the doctor again, instead choosing to tower over him before leaning down and getting inches away from his face.

"You dare to suggest that I, the great Megabyte, am capable of something as pathetic and weak as love?!"

Herr Doktor cowered under Megabyte's furious glare, his metal frame shaking with fear. "N-no, my lord! Of course not! Please, forgive me for overstepping!"

Snarling, Megabyte grabbed the doktor once more and threw him into the wall, causing the smaller man to scream in pain and terror.

With a roar the virus began to destroy anything he could get his hands on. Megabyte was in a full blown rage, destroying everything in sight. Overturned medical carts, glass vials, the wiring in the walls - nothing was safe from his fury.

The doctor cowered against the wall, trying to make himself as small as possible as Megabyte's rampage continued. He knew better than to try and intervene - the virus was far too volatile in this state. All he could do was wait and pray that the outburst would pass quickly, and without him being a target.

After what felt like an eternity, Megabyte finally seemed to run out of steam, coming to a stop and panting heavily. Silence filled the air, one man too afraid to speak and the other lost in thoughts.

“Herr Doktor?”

“…Yes, m-mein herr?”

“I won’t delete you today, but don’t you ever suggest something so stupid again because I can promise you I will make your deletion a painful one. Understood?” The virus never looks at him, eyes fixated on an invisible target only he can see.

'“J-Ja.”

“Good. Now have the men prepare my limousine, it’s time I had a chat with the Game Sprite.”

Breathe in,

Breath Out,

Smile brightly, nod politely.

Don’t think about him it.

Everything is okay.

I mean, who cared if she had barely slept in a week, was avoiding her friends at any chance she got and was struggling to not to spiral into a episode self-hatred and depression?

As she walked the halls of the base, she gave small waves and hellos to the people working, trying to not notice the way they stared at her.

Like they had always stared.

“..Freak…”

“..not trustworthy..”

“..dangero-”

She can hear them all speaking about her. It’s nothing new. She has always been an outsider in this place. But now since the incident in the Med-Bay and rumors getting out about what happened in the P.O. (Thanks to Mike the TV who had been ever so kind to listen in on her and her friends and then spread the information like wildfire.) it had been worse than usual.

She hadn’t felt this isolated than ever; not even when she was in actual isolation. She stops and hisses, pushing the thought away. She wasn’t going to think of that place, it was behind her.

She shakes her head and continues forward, moving throughout the halls of the base and into the main chamber where her friends were gathered around a table. She can practically taste the tension in the air. She tries to hide her tiredness (And the thoughts of teeth on her neck) but finds it hard.

Everyone was confused about why Megabyte had not attacked yet and subsequently, was on guard. He had been radio silent the last cycle and aside from the ABCs protecting the Principal’s Office, there was no indication that he was even in Mainframe. He had made no appearances, no speeches, nothing.

Someone speculated that maybe he had escaped to the Supercomputer to infect it but Bob pointed out a portal of any kind required internet access and the wifi tower was still down(confirmed by Glitch who still couldn’t get a signal out of the system.)

So that left them on edge. In the mean time, they were trying to best come up with a plan to get back into the P.O. They likely couldn’t get back in through the Core, Megabyte had likely figured out that’s how they escaped and had men guarding the entrance. Besides, Phong was old and injured last time anyone saw him and Enzo was young; they were more likely than anyone to succumb quickly to the Core.

The group is chatting tersely, trying to pinpoint a plan when she approaches the table. There is a schematic of the P.O laid out, with various notes and items circled on it. She can see the flicker of worry in Bob’s eyes as he takes stalk of her.

“Did you sleep?” he asks silently. Her pursed lips in response tell him that no, she hadn’t.

(Razor sharp claws running over her skin.)

“Where were you?” Enzo is on edge more than any of them and quick to instigate a fight in order to release the pent up anger building up inside of him. It’s tiring but she’s used to it.

“Just out for a walk.” she lies, the smile threatening to fall. Each day it’s becoming harder to pretend around him.

“That must be nice. We’ve been here actually working!”

AndrAIa's smile faltered at Matrix's sharp tone. She took a deep breath, trying to keep her composure. Conceal, don’t feel.

"I know you're all working hard, Sparky. I just needed some time to myself, that's all." To sleep; or at least she tried to until the thoughts became too much.

(A deep, baritone voice purring into her ear)

“Yeah well that’s all you seem to have time for. You’ve been avoiding me for the last cycle.” The renegade says accusatorily, eye flaring briefly as anger seeped out.

“Oh no, User forbid I be too busy and tired to FAQ your ass while in the middle of an active warzone!” She regrets the words as soon as she says them. Why was this happening? She’s supposed to be good at pretending and yet she keeps slipping up, it was never this hard before to lie.

Enzo recoiled briefly, taken aback by AndrAIa's uncharacteristic outburst before the shock turned into that familiar, tiring (so, so tiring), anger she was so used to at this point.

(Touching her between the [REDACTED].)

“You really think that’s what I fucking care about right now?” the Renegade leaned forward, anger spilling out of his voice. “Enzo and Phong are still FAQing at Megabyte’s mercy, and you think I give two shits about the fact that you’re not putting out?”

‘Yes’ But she does not say it. AndrAIa knows that while he is concerned for the others, he’s extra ornery because she’s been uninterested or just not in the mood to lie there and get it over with like she always does in exchanging codes the last cycle. She knows he uses it as a way to cope when stressed; his go to after alcohol and shooting things but she just can’t seemed to get in the mood because his hands were wrong and not the ones she wanted.

“Enough! I swear to the User, none of us need to hear this.” Bob interjects, a look of desperation on his face as he tried to end this very uncomfortable conversation. He doesn’t need those images in his head. AndrAIa felt her cheeks flush; momentarily forgetting about the others during the spat. She can see from the corner of her eyes Dot is looking down at the .doc she has open, trying not to look her in the eye, face red with embarrassment. Mouse just seems to be amused.

Matrix's grunted, turning away as he backed down reluctantly. A mix of frustration and hurt on his face. "Whatever," he muttered, turning his attention back to the map on the table. AndrAIa breathes deep, pushing it all back and a calm smile comes over her face.

"So, what's the plan?" she asked, her voice carefully level. She knows there will be hell to pay later, behind closed doors but she cannot focus on that now . "How are we getting Enzo and Phong back?"

Bob cleared his throat, exchanging a wary glance with Dot before speaking. "Well, we've been going over the schematics, trying to find any weak points in Megabyte's defenses. Unfortunately, he's really bolstered security throughout the entire building."

He pauses, tapping his fingers on the table as he thinks. "There are still a few service tunnels and access points that may be lightly guarded, but getting in undetected is going to be a challenge. And once we're in, we'll have to deal with getting Enzo and Phong out without triggering Megabyte's full wrath."

Matrix leaned forward, his cybernetic eye whirring as he analyzed the map. "We'll need a distraction - something to draw Megabyte's forces away from the holding cells so we can get in and get them out."

“We still haven’t decided what we’re going to do about Dad, or the rest of their people on the inside.” said Dot. That was another issue they weren’t sure how to deal with. Enzo might be safe because he was a child, and he needed Phong, but what about the rest of the team that had been in the War Room? They were either infected or deleted at this point; Megabyte would not show them the same courtesy.Then again, he might not care enough about a group of Binomes and chose to allow them to leave (after all, if you kill all your future subjects, who will you have left when it comes time to take over?) And Welman had the advantage of being a null; he could not be deleted, no matter how much Megabyte tried. He could feel pain of course, but that was different.

It was a conundrum. Obviously, to them Enzo and Phong were a priority, but to the families of the Binomes inside the P.O, waiting on news of their loved ones safety, they did not feel the same.

"Well, we don’t know if anyone else is still alive Sis. We should focus on just getting in before finding survivors. We could lead a frontal assault on the P.O.," Matrix offered, cracking his knuckles. "That would definitely draw Megabyte's attention." Everyone knew that he wanted a rematch with Megabyte more than anything; partially for what had been done to Dot but also for pride reasons; to put the virus in his place once and for all.

“Sugah, I’m sure after last time we came in swinging through the front door, he ain’t gonna let us stroll back in without a blood bath.” said Mouse.

Dot shook her head, a frown on her face. "I agree, it’s going to be more difficult this time if we attempt it and it’s too risky. We can't just charge in guns blazing. We need to be strategic about this."

By this point, AndrAIa had started to zone out, exhaustion creeping in. She was too tired to think straight, the call for sleep overwhelming. She leaned against the table, allowing her eyes to close for a moment. She..she just needed to rest for a moment.

AndrAIa's eyes slid shut as she leaned against the table, the exhaustion finally catching up to her. The others continued discussing their plans, their voices fading to a dull hum in the background as she allowed herself a moment of respite. And then, she’s pulled under.

She’s huddled in the corner of the cell, a book tightly held to her chest as she tries to protect it to no avail from the hands that rip it away. It’s a good book, she’s read it over and over since she got it. It’s a bit torn from constant use but in this place, it was all she had. A hope, a dream, that when she is an adult she will find it and be free.

“Where did you get this? ” a figure says, shrouded in shadow. The voice is familiar but an unwelcome familiarity and is feminine in nature. Each word drips with malice that AndrAIa knows is because she’s done something wrong.

She doesn’t tell her about the guard who had felt sorry for her and slipped it past the bars in the middle of the night. He was the only kind person in this place.

“I…I found it?” she offers weakly knowing, that it’s a terrible lie. Though the figure is shrouded, she knows that the woman is staring at her with hatred and malcontent.

“Lies!” The 0.8 year old screams, flinching as a hand strikes her cheek, the pain already forming into a bruise. Why did she have to always make her mad? She was trying to be good, she really was.

“You don’t get to have presents. Don’t forget, they’re dead because of you. You’re an abomination who deserves to be punished….Looks like I'll have to find new guards, such a shame. Cleaning up the blood will be such a bother.”

The woman pauses, noting the title of the book and then lets out a dark laugh.

“Oh, you poor, stupid thing. Just a child; Not even remotely of age and yet you think that the Goddess will bestow such a blessing on you one day? After what you’ve done? Foolish child.”

“But-”

“No excuses. Remember your purpose for being here. You are dangerous, and even if you were to find someone in adulthood, would it truly be fair to them? Do you want to subject them to the pain and suffering of being bound to a monster like you?”

“I a-am not a mOnStER!” she wails, curling in on herself.

“Yes, you are.”

“No!”

AndrAIa's eyes snap open, her entire body going rigid as the memory resurfaces. Fear and adrenaline lick through her; why now? On top of everything else going on, why was she thinking about that? She doesn’t want to remember. But then it hits her, the truth. Why IT had happened.

“DrAIa?”

She knows someone is calling out for her (she doesn’t know who, everything sounds staticky as she panics), hands reaching to touch her but it’s too much. The memory is burning into her, sending her into spiral that she hasn’t experienced since she escaped. “I need to get out of here“ is the only thing on her mind.

She bolts, pushing past figures left and right, blood pounding in her ears. Everything in her code says to run and to not stop; so that’s what she does. She doesn’t get far before something pommels her to the ground. Someone large and strong, pressing her against the floor, their hands pining her own.

She snarls and thrashes, unwilling to be contained. Other hands reach to touch her and it’s too much. In a quick motion, she detaches one of her arm fins out of reflex, causing it to go flying and it must hit someone because she hears a scream and then hands reactively releasing her. She is blind with panic and cannot think so when yet another hand grabs her hand, she turns and racks her nails across…a face? Yes, a face but she doesn’t know whose. The hand relents and she pushes further.

This time, nothing stops her and she runs and runs, and runs, flying past sprites and binomes alike, out of the base and into the streets of Mainframe, hair whipping in the wind, lungs burning with need to breath but she can’t breath, she can’t.

She’s always known she was a monster, so it suddenly makes sense why this happened.

This was her punishment; her penance for what she had done. There was no other answer. A monster for a monster.

She runs until she cannot breath anymore, falling over from exhaustion. Is she crying? She can’t tell anymore. She hears a thud but pays it no mind. Hands grab her once more and she thrashes, but unlike last time they do not let go; instead they wrap around her and pull her close. They feel familiar and wrong but so right. She relents, pushing her face against a chest that is metal and rough, marked by degradation and she breaks down for the first time in a long time and sobs. She sobs until she cannot feel anymore.

Next | Previous | Beginning

[steeklover]

You guys sleep on their friendship too much 😔

Time-laspe (I tried to download the video and attach it to this post but I think it was too big and my computer is tired because it won't download. That is the link, you can watch it if you'd like too, I know I like to watch art time-laspes. It is around fifteen minutes though, I didn't know how to make it any faster so there's your warning)

(Okay so I'm just now realizing that the part of the video where I used actually colors got cut off 😐And I can't even fix it because I've already deleted the clip off my computer and emptied my recycle bin. I'm so upset now, I'm sorry 😭😭I'm not a tech savy person at all)

You don't have to read this if you don't want to, it's more of an artist's note to myself. If you want to know more of my thought process while doing this then you can read it though.

First, I just want to give credit to the base I used!

Second, I used Krita to draw and Canva to put the video together. I've never really used another drawing app/software thing before (I've used Procreate a few times on my sister's IPad but it's not like I'm going to draw anything South Park on there) so I don't really have anything to compare it too. It's free though so... how much better can you get. The only thing I don't like about it so far is that the fill tool kind of sucks but it's not too bad, you just have to go over the edges to get a solid color (at least from my experience). And I've been using Canva for a while now, I've put together a few videos before but not in a while so I was a little rusty. The only thing I don't like about that is that I have to pay for an upgrade if I want to download a long video.

I started trying to draw seriously in April and now it's July so it's been like two months (?). I haven't posted anything since May I think but I've still been drawing a lot, I just haven't finished anything worth posting up until today.

I started out drawing this thinking it was going to be bad. Then about halfway through I thought it might actually turn out alright. Then I finished it and I kind of hate it. I think it would be much better if I practiced shading and textures but I'm too lazy for that, at least for now.

I hardly know anything about art, whether it be digital or traditional. I don't know anatomy, color theory, perspective, none of it. You can see on the time-lapse that I basically traced the base I used, did the faces and clothes and then colored it and that took me ALL DAY! Granted I had breaks like when I made my lunch and ran over to my grandma's house but other than that, I've been working on this piece (along with Stan but I did most of Stan yesterday, I just colored him this morning).

I have mad respect for every single artist out there because this is so hard... but for some reason I want to keep doing it. I know it's going to be super satisfying to look back on my art work from two years ago and see how much I've improved (hopefully I've improved, please tell me I'll improved)

As you can probably tell, I didn't get everything in the time-laspe. Recording the process was so hard, I tried to do it with Stan yesterday but I barely knew what I was doing and I kept getting called by my mom to do stuff so I had to keep pausing and un-pausing so I gave up and tried again today. I think my computer is worn out by working all day because not only have I been drawing on it all day but I have also been editing the video all day. I really like when artists post time-laspes though because it gives me an idea of their process and it's really nice to watch.

But anyway, I ended up giving Jason eyeliner because one) he's metro, two) I headcanon him wearing eyeliner (same thing with Tweek) and three) he needed a little something MORE to him, if that makes sense. I orginally wasn't going to give him eyeliner because I was afraid he would look too much like Tweek but once the picture was done, I decided they wouldn't look too similar. I also gave Tweek and Jason both freckles because for Jason, it's canon and for Tweek, it's my headcanon for him. You probably can't tell that Tweek has freckles because I made them really faint (on purpose) and I like to think he'd only have a few on his cheeks and nose. I gave Jason a lot though because I'm pretty sure that's how it is in the show. Lastly I forgot to color Jason's shirt in so that's everything that's not on the video.

I think the hardest thing for me was the eyes and the clothes. I have a love-hate relationship drawing eyes. I love looking at how different people draw their eyes but when it comes to drawing my own eyes... yikes 😬Also I think it's the facial proportions that might make this seem off, I think I have a bad habit of making the eyes too big but that's what I've been doing ever since I was a little kid so now if I make the eyes small, it just looks off. And again, I didn't do anything shading so it probably makes the picture look flat. Plus I have no idea what I'm doing.

I also usually have a hard time drawing hair but today I had a pretty easy time doing it. I was really surprised. Also another headcanon of mine for Tweek is that he has platinum blonde hair. I love platinum blonde hair and just blonde hair in general and his hair is SO YELLOW, I feel like if he was older than he'd dye it. Also they are both teens in this picture.

Tweek looks really pasty here, I tried to give him pale skin but I didn't mean for it to be THAT pale.

I think that's all I have to say. If you read this and have any tips for me, I'd love to hear them. I'd love to redraw this in a few months or maybe in a year if I decide to keep drawing, I know there's defiently room for improvement.

Despite all the complaining I just did, I don't HATE this picture per say. I really like my art style, it's simple but cute (imo of course). I feel like if I learned more about shading and learn how to draw faces and clothes better than I'd do a lot better. I think Stan was a lot cuter but this is cute too.

Lastly, ignore the two random dots if you find them, I'm too tired to fix this.

Anyway, if you read all of this, I really appreciate you! Have a great day/night! ❤️❤️

[harriscofics]

Did the feed break? I’m not seeing new fics anymore

sorry it's taken so long to reply to this (depression lol + not using tumblr until the last like, week), but it should be fixed now.

---

12/12/22:

so.... update.

i'd reconnected the applet, but it kept skipping the posting portion for some reason, or would give an error.

i've deleted it and created a new one. you should see the last handful of fics on AO3 that have been picked up and posted.

currently, they don't have all the nice links like the previous applet :( i'm going to see if i can change that, but at least the feed is working!!

thanks for your patience.

<3

@harrisonwells/@harrywells

[thedudewiththedragontattoos]

Genetically Correct Pleasantview with Scripted Events CC FREE

Hey people! Welcome to my latest project - A genetically correct Pleasantview with scripted events!

When I first found out (a while ago) that the playables we all know and love in Pleasantview aren’t actually genetically related to their ancestors, it totally broke immersion for me. For some reason it really bothered me and that kept me from really getting into a playthrough of the hoods that Eaxis shipped with the game. Then I discovered this crazy cool thing that people did which involved extracting the appearances of the first ancestors from each family, and breeding them in CAS from generation to generation, eventually creating Genetically Correct versions of the sims we all know. This is where I began this exhausting journey - there was a lot of learning but I am really happy with how it turned out!

There have been a ton of various Pleasantview makeovers - all of which are super awesome! However, I was unable to find a Pleasantview that not only already had all the sims genetically correct, but still had their relationships, biographies, personalities, and most importantly, scripted events...because let’s face it - who the hell wants to start a new Pleasantview if they can’t play through the cool ass scripted events in the beginning? I know I don’t. And that’s why I made this hood.

What is this? This is a Pleasantview in which I have made all the playable sims (and their ancestors) genetically correct. It contains no cc and was built on top of a clean template Pleasantview as well. Below are pics of the premades:

More Info, pics, and download below the cut!

My main goal for this was to make the premades genetically correct while still keeping them actually recognizable. I know there are some GC versions that are totally different, and I absolutely respect that, but I still wanted to look at Daniel Pleasant and say “Yep, that’s Daniel”. 

IMPORTANT: After taking the pictures I realized the skin I use (No longer after this), which I will link below drastically whitewashes the sims. Some sims with skin 3 look super light, such as Daniel Pleasant and Jennifer Burb. They still have the correct skin, it just may appear lighter in my images. I didn’t realize this until after I made the sims and took their pictures. Also note that the eyes may look like different colors. People have said the light blue looks grey, so if you see a strange eye color on a sim it doesn’t match with, be aware it’s likely just the defaults I used. 

Notice: I used a mod, equal genetics while creating these sims. I do not claim to be anything but a simpleton when it comes to genetics, and I know that some of these sims’ genetics aren’t realistic - Like a blond and brunette having a blond kid. I don’t claim to know anything about genetics, so before you genetic purists come at me just know - I know this and don’t care.

My general notion was that if one of their ancestors had a gene, then they could too. 

With that being said, all living premades with the exception of Coral Oldie, Herb Oldie, Mortimer Goth, and Bella Goth have the same eye and hair colors as they did originally. Some ancestors or dead spouses (like Michael Bachelor and Skip Broke) have had a few changes as well. More on that at the very end, for those interested.

TLDR - General Information

I ramble, I know. The main idea is that ALL of the sims are the same exact sims as you’re used to. They all have the same personalities, zodiac signs, hobbies, jobs, aspirations, relationships, memories, etc...They just have corrected appearances. Scripted events still work, and Brandi Broke’s baby is also now going to be genetically correct and related to both her and Skip. 

A few things to note:

- I used a default skin and eyes when taking the pictures. The sims will not come with these. I used Pitstop Skinblend and Poppet Clear Eyes

- Yes, I know Michael Bachelor’s eyes aren’t right. That is fixed in the game.

- This is CC FREE!!

- Brandi’s pregnancy may be a couple hours behind

- All sims have just about the same dominant and recessive traits as they do in the original clean templates from meetme. No sim is homozygous unless intended by meetme/eaxis.

- Sims may get some wants or fears of their ancestors or dead relatives becoming zombies or resurrected, this is just because of the way I did this, their deaths are fresh in the playables minds. 

- This hood was build on a clean template Pleasantview, all ancestors and dead sims are safe to resurrect

- This was made with Ultimate Collection, so unfortunately you will need this or all packs for this to work.

- The versions without townies still include Bella Goth, Kaylynn Langerak, and Gordon King.

- When you add the subhood version with townies, you’ll notice that the townie and NPC names get randomized and aren’t their original names. Though annoying, this is normal and you will have to rename them all yourself.

Update:

It seems that some mods can break the scripted events, it was unclear exactly which mods in my folder did it. To circumvent this issue I would recommend that when you initially install and play the scripted events in the hood, take out all of your non essential mods (leave in mods like no unlink on delete, no townie regen, things that are essential) from your mods folder (just mods, cc is fine to stay in) and put it in a safe folder while you just play through the SE - then when they're done, put the mods back in. This seems like a random occurrence - as they only broke 1 out of every 5 times I tested it.

More Pics:

Link to imgur album of individual sims and all (or most) ancestors.

Link to imgur album of individual families

Download Instructions:

This comes in 4 versions:

GC Main Hood Pleasantview with Townies

GC Main Hood Pleasantview without Townies

GC Subhood (Shopping district) Pleasantview with Townies

GC Subhood (Shopping district) Pleasantview without Townies

Download the version you want. 

For Main Hoods, place the folder in the following location:

Ultimate Collection: 

Documents\EA Games\The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection\Neighborhoods

Disk Version:

Documents\EA Games\The Sims 2\Neighborhoods

For Subhoods, place the folder in the following location:

Ultimate Collection:

Program Files\Origin Games\The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection\Best of Business\EP3\TSData\Res\NeighborhoodTemplate

Disk Version:

:\Program Files\EA GAMES\The Sims 2 Open for Business\TSData\Res\NeighborhoodTemplate

Credits:

meemetotheriver for the clean templates

Carrit for the ancestral sims

Special thanks to:

Sabrina from PleasantSims discord and @isabella-goth​ for their patience and help with my idiocy throughout this project - I couldn’t have figured it out without your help specifically!!

Download:

Genetically Correct Pleasantview with Townies

Genetically Correct Pleasantview without Townies (Still includes Bella, Kaylynn, and Gordon King)

I hope you all enjoy this! As usual, let me know if you run into any issues! Tag me in pics or posts of what you do with the sims if you’d like!

Till’ next time

-Mike

P.S. Changes to premades/dead spouses:

Bella Goth - Hair changed to brown

Mortimer Goth - Hair changed to black

Coral Oldie - Hair changed to blond

Herb Oldie - Eyes changed to dark blue

Skip Broke - Eyes changed to dark blue

Michael Bachelor - Given blond hair, medium skin, and dark blue eyes

That should be the only changes to premades and/or their spouses. Some ancestors have been adjusted too!

[the-hidden-writer]

And Into The Fire

Chapter 4: A Not-Quite-Plan

Summary:

Months after the Mitchells saved the world, Linda gets a phone call asking if she’s seen two defective Pal MAX bots. Powerful people are after Eric and Deborabot 5000, and it’s up to the Mitchells to protect them.

Check reblogs for AO3 link!

A Not-Quite-Plan

An agent came running into the office just as Mark was about to take a sip of his coffee.

“Ma’am! We’ve got into #009181987!”

Agent Ward turned off her tablet and stood up immediately.

“About time!” She snapped. “Come on, Dr Bowman, this is where we need you.”

He barely had time to grab his coffee cup as she practically dragged him toward the door by his hoodie.

Ever since they’d locked onto the missing Pal MAX bots, Agent Jennifer Ward and her team had pretty much taken control of Pal Labs. Or at least the headquarters where Mark worked.

He’d spent the past week or so locked in his office with the scary Agent Ward herself. The tall woman had ordered him to come into work every day despite the complete CIA take-over of his company, just to keep up pretences for the public. And he also needed to be kept under supervision at all times for some reason. He was basically a prisoner.

Oh well. At least he had WiFi.

After pulling him out of his office (freedom at last!) Agent Ward led him down the stairs to the main work area, which was a large room filled with rows of computer desks.

At the very back of the room were two large screens on the wall. These were usually used for advertising and announcements, but recently they’d served another purpose.

Displayed on each screen was a status. Before now, they’d said the same thing. But for the first time in weeks, one was different.

Pal MAX #012041966 Status: UNRESPONSIVE

Pal MAX #009181987 Status: ONLINE

“Online?” Mark wondered aloud. “So you actually got into it, huh.”

Agent Ward scoffed. “Of course we did. Don’t doubt my team, Dr Bowman. Especially Agent Travis here.”

As if on cue, the young agent that had come to tell them the news before came rushing in through the door behind them, and almost glided straight into the wheelie chair next to the computer he’d been working on.

“Actually, we got through a couple of times.” Travis explained, huffing slightly from having to run. “But we got kicked out before we could change anything. This is the first time it looks stable and ready to be edited.”

“Well, these robots are based on AI.” Said Mark. “They’re not as simple to take down as ordinary machines.”

“Trust me, we know.” Agent Ward sneered. “That’s the reason we’re in this mess to begin with.”

She turned to her team, who all had their fingers poised over their keyboards ready to begin typing. “Delete any excess data and then start to rewrite the functional coding.” She ordered.

“Rewrite?” Mark had been under the impression that they would just delete it all to stop the robots for good. That’s what they were trying to do, right? “I thought-”

“Yes, rewrite. Anything more is classified.”

One of the agents raised their hands. “Uh, Ma’am? All the data here looks pretty messed up. Most of its data’s been built onto the errors presumably caused by defects, we have no idea what it actually does. There's words liked 'brother', 'mother'-”

“Do I need to repeat myself, Barker?”

Even though it wasn’t aimed at him, Mark couldn’t help but gulp at the way Ward was glaring at the poor agent.

“No Ma’am,” mumbled Barker, “sorry, Ma’am. We’ll start the rewrite.”

~-.-~

The three of them raced into the room with Monchi following close behind, probably because he was intrigued by all the commotion.

Linda didn’t want to believe it. Her robo-boys being sick was one thing, but fighting each other? That was truly unbelievable. They would never.

But unfortunately, it was just as Aaron said.

Deborahbot was kneeling on the bed with his back to the door, repeatedly hitting Eric’s screen by alternating between using the clenched fist of one hand and the open palm of another. There was a “clunk” sound with each impact, and Deborahbot showed no sign of stopping.

“Deborahbot!” Linda exclaimed incredulously.

The bot’s head turned 180° to face them but he did not cease the attack on his brother.

“Mother! Other Mitchells!”

“What are you doing?!” Demanded Rick, aggressively pointing at the bot in the bed. Aaron gripped onto the back of Linda’s pant leg in fear.

“I am more defective than my brother.” Deborahbot stated matter-of-factly, his calm voice sounding quite scary compared to the current violence he was inflicting. “I thought if he was more defective like me, he would be himself again.”

Rick waved his arms in annoyance. “That’s insane!”

“Deborahbot, stop hitting your brother right now.” Ordered Linda.

“Ok!”

Linda felt a small stab of guilt in her heart. Since they’d joined the family, they’d all tried their hardest not to order the bots to do anything. By phrasing things the wrong way, their programming would make them obey commands mindlessly, whereas the Mitchells just wanted them to be themselves. The longer the pair of them went without being given an order, the more their individual personalities shone through.

Deborahbot released Eric and stepped away. Two seconds later, once the command had been completed, he held out a warning hand to the family.

“Wait, Mitchells, stop!”

Linda was about to open her mouth to ask why, only she first noticed the movement on the bed.

Movement. On the bed.

Under the blanket, Eric looked like he was shivering. Or, more accurately, vibrating. The screen that had been full of color before was now its usual black self, and his red marker face was visible again. The only indication that anything was wrong was that the small LED in the corner of his screen was flashing an array of different colors.

“What’s happening to him?” Aaron asked from behind her, and Linda nodded to encourage Deborahbot to answer.

“I do not know for certain, but I think that the infiltrators have successfully entered my brother’s system.”

“You’re speaking normal again.” Commented Rick, though his cautious gaze was fixed on Eric, as if he would spring up and attack them at any moment.

“That is why I came to that conclusion.” Elaborated Deborahbot. “They have stopped attacking me, so they must be focusing more on him.”

Unlike earlier, Linda drew up the courage to approach Eric in the bed. His shaking was growing ever more violent by the second, and without Deborahbot keeping him down it was only a matter of time before he fell off the bed completely.

She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and made her voice as soft and calming as possible.

“Eric, honey?”

“Dear, be careful.” Rick warned from behind her but she chose not to listen.

“Can you hear me?”

It didn’t seem like he was going to respond. Feeling defeated, Linda was about to turn to ask Deborahbot what to do next when a voice spoke up.

“User recognised: Linda Mitchell.”

Eric’s voice was even more distorted than Deborahbot’s had been to the point where it was nearly unrecognisable.

“Uh, Mom?”

“Linda, get back!”

Linda understood exactly why her family was scared. The bots had never, not once, called her by her actual name. To not hear “Mother!” come out of Eric’s metaphorical mouth alarmed her, but still she couldn’t bring herself to step back.

“Brother?”

In a similar situation, the bots never called one another by their given names. It was always “Brother”. It only made them seem closer to one another in a way that the Mitchells themselves couldn’t be.

“Unknown user. Verify”

Aaron approached them with caution, one hand automatically searching for his mother’s own. She clasped it tightly.

“It’s like he’s gone back into robot-mode.” Said Aaron.

Linda squeezed his hand in agreement. Out of the two, it was Eric that always seemed more closely related to all the other Pal MAX bots for some reason. Still, Eric was their Eric, and not one of the mindless machines that tried to blast all of humanity into space.

Then a high-pitched whine echoed throughout the room without warning, causing the Mitchells (and Deborahbot, who mimicked them a second later) to cover their ears from the terrible noise. Monchi began to bark.

Once it died down, Rick frowned and used two fingers to massage his temple. “What the-”

“B-Brother!”

Rick snapped his mouth shut and all heads in the room turned to Eric, who was now sitting up straight on the bed.

“Brother!” Deborahbot called back in relief.

Eric's head twisted to face the three extremely shocked Mitchells.

“Mitchells!” Eric cried dramatically, his words accompanied by a more familiar glitch. “You are in danger. Pal Labs is taking over our systems, and it’s only a matter of time before-”

“I already told them all that.” Deborahbot interjected.

“Oh.” Eric muttered softly. “Aww.”

It put Linda a little at ease to see her boys’ dynamic return so quickly. That must mean things were getting better, right?

“Brother, what should we do?”

Deborahbot had always been reliant on Eric for decision-making. Linda had no idea how the bots managed to form such a human-like sibling relationship.

“They’ve already gotten to me.” Said Eric, solely addressing Deborahbot now. “It’s safer if you power me off until they stop. If you wait a while and they don’t, then you might have to go to Pal Labs and stop them yourself.”

Linda’s immediate thought was: No. She was not going to turn off her boy.

“How do we know if they’ve stopped?” Asked Rick.

Eric glitched before shrugging. “My brother might be able to tell you, but-”

He was interrupted by the return of the high-pitched whine. This time, Deborahbot did not cover his ears.

A few seconds later, Eric’s voice was distorted again.

“Status: online. Location-”

He did not get to finish his ominous speech as Deborahbot had quickly moved toward him and placed his hand under Eric’s head. After a few short seconds Eric’s screen went completely black with only his marker face remaining as he fell back onto the bed.

“Deborahbot!” Linda exclaimed in outrage. “Tell me you didn’t-”

“He told me a plan.” Deborahbot said nonchalantly. “First I had to power him off, then-”

“Yeah, we heard.” Scoffed Rick. “But that’s not really a proper plan.”

“It’s a start.” Aaron piped up. “I don’t really know what’s going on but I think the bots have it better together than you do.”

Linda bit the inside of her lip. She did not like how Deborahbot switched off his brother without permission. They were technically under 18 and therefore not adults, so Linda felt responsibility for their wellbeing and safety. She tried her best to keep quiet to avoid snapping at him.

“So... what now?” Asked Rick.

Deborahbot took a moment to look at his brother before turning to face the Mitchells again.

“I don’t want to wait.” He said blankly. “So I think that we should go to Pal Labs and tell them to stop now.”

Comments make my day! :)

[tundrainafrica]

Title: A Tale of Two Slaves (16/17)

Summary:  “Soulmates don’t exist. Fate doesn’t exist. Everything is a choice.” At that moment, Levi could only watch as she made the choice for him.“

Reincarnation AU. Levi remembers everything from their past life. Hange doesn’t.

Other Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Note: 

I know I said on tumblr I was planning on ending the story today and apologies for dragging this out longer.

The final chapter is already written out but editing is gonna take me an extra hour or so. Also, this week has been hectic, work especially has been very hectic since I'm covering a job for 3 people now while they hire. I ended up getting a little sick today so I decided to put off a lot of the asks and postings until Sunday.

I could post the final chapter earliest, tomorrow night. Latest, I'll be posting the final chapter is Wednesday. I wanna get it out soon but there are still a lot of stuff I'm hoping to fix up so, apologies for not meeting the expectations.

Thank you so much for reading though. It really means a lot to me. 

As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

“You can take a seat Hange.” Shela’s voice was gentle. She had taken her time pronouncing every syllable.

Still, something jumped inside Hange as she heard it. She gathered herself together and willed herself to make eye contact. “Sorry about that...I got a little distracted,” she said. She was starting to get a little self conscious. Did she actually jump? Was her tone too jittery? Were her eyes too wide?

The woman in front of her seemed unfazed as if she was watching Hange do something so normal as to just stare at the room in front of her for a long few seconds. Still, Hange avoided her gaze and looked around as she made her way towards the sofa.

Levi had only ever talked about how much of a hassle and how much of a pain the whole process of going to therapy was. Over time, he had started ditching the sessions altogether. Consequently, Hange had expected an atmosphere that would make her feel a little more restrained than what she had felt then.

It turned out just entering the room made her feel the complete opposite of what she had expected.

Shela’s office was more spacious than Hange had imagined it to be. Or more full of life.

Filled with too much life in a way that Hange couldn’t understand. But it seemed to hold more than the average doctor’s office she’d been to. Maybe it was the paintings on the wall or the wooden bookshelf that stood so tall and wide it was an omnipresent in the room.

Either way, it was comfortable and Hange chalked it to the rustic feel of the room. The ambiance was just too strange, the shades of the wallpaper, the rustic carpeted floor was too indulgent of her senses and she could have been taking a little more time than necessary to get to her seat.

It looked like Shela followed suit. By the time Hange had settled on the chair, Shela had still been on her way.

Shela leaned forward from her seat and reached out a hand in greeting. She seemed excited, too excited. “It’s nice to finally be able to talk to you like this, Hange Zoe,” she said.

That excitement in her voice was enough at least to pull Hange’s focus away from the ambiance of the room and towards the woman in front of her. A clear reminder that she was there for a reason.

Or two reasons. Hange corrected herself as she pulled out her file. “Thank you so much for agreeing to go through this with me,” she said. “Since Levi started having sessions with you, we kept in touch so at least we had some history beforehand… And given your background, I thought you might be the best person to give me some extra content on my thesis.”

“For your review of related literature?”

Hange nodded. “It’s not yet done. I did research already on the biological aspect but I thought you might have information on the psychological aspects of it…” She pulled out a folder from her bag and slid the file towards Shela.

Shela was quick to scan through the title. “Looks interesting. What made you pick this topic?”

“Many things...” Hange said. “I thought I would be able to help more people doing this type of thesis. And maybe I can take further studies and---”

“Does this have anything to do with Levi?” . Shela raised one eyebrow at her.

“Oh? Was it obvious?” Hange asked. She deemed it futile to have even denied it then.

Shela started to flip through the pages of the draft a little quicker. “It’s been a while since I’ve heard from him. He never replied to any of my texts.” She stood up, gesturing for Hange to continue talking as she made her way to the shelf at the back of the room.

“He went home,” Hange said. There was an awkward pause for a few seconds and she felt some inclination to fill it herself. “Back to his hometown,” she added. “He probably wanted to spend his birthday with them, or maybe Christmas. I guess this is a good time for him to go home… He---”

“So Hange, do you wanna talk about Levi? Or would you like to talk about your thesis?” The way Shela said it was far from abrasive.

From her position, Hange couldn’t even tell what face Shela was making. Yet she found herself a little shaken, particularly self conscious she was taking up precious office time. And for a few seconds longer, Hange struggled to find the right words. “There are things I wanted to ask about… Like definitely, I told you I need to discuss the psychological aspect and…”

“Well, from what I’m seeing, this didn’t need a session. I could have emailed you the pdf file of my thesis and just answered if you had any questions.”

Hange only noticed then as Shela walked back to her seat that she had pulled out two binders from one of the bookshelves.

“If you need any more sources for your thesis, you can read through this.” Shela placed the binders on the table and flipped to the last page of the thicker one. “And you can check through my bibliography for any more sources and I’m sure you’ll figure the rest out on your own. Levi told me you were a pretty good researcher growing up…”

Hange felt the blood rush to her face. That only made it harder to grasp for the right words. “When was your last session with Levi?” There were many other things Hange would have wanted to ask then. Her mouth just wouldn’t cooperate.

“A little more than a month ago. A few weeks before your finals. “ Shela answered. She rested her elbows on her lap, her chin on her hands.

“Finals ended more than two weeks ago. I was hoping he talked to you before he left.”

Shela shook her head. “No word from him.” She must have sensed the disappointment in Hange’s face because only a second later, she continued. “But maybe going home would be good for him. He might find someone to talk to there.” Her tone was cold, disconnected and it didn’t look like she believed it herself though.

“I know you would tell him to write, he told me that much about your sessions. But did he ever tell you about his stories?”

“Commander Zoe and Captain Levi?”

Hange nodded. “Oh, he did. You see, I wanted to talk to you about that. But I don’t know either whether or not I should be talking to his therapist about this...But I’m worried.”

“Why?”

“He deleted the file.”

If Shela was shocked, she didn’t show it. The only hint to any emotion in the room had been the short silence that followed. “I suspected he’d do that much,” she said.

“Suspect that much? Did he tell you something? Was there something wrong with his writing? Is he okay?”

Shela shook her head. “ I’m not in a place to tell.”

“Why did he get so attached to his stories? Why did it affect him so much that he couldn’t even accept a death?”

“I’m sorry Hange, I don’t wanna waste your time here so I’ll be upfront with you. What Levi and I talk about here stays between us.”

“I respect that.” Hange expected the answer, still she kept her tone long and drawn. She still found herself clinging to some hope that there was something Shela could share.. “I want to know though… Is this because of the injury? He lost a lot because of that and I know I was somehow involved with it but I just can’t shake off this feeling of guilt. ”

Shela sighed. “You know, I may not be able to tell you what we talked about. But I’m sure you know more about this than I do. You might even be able to contribute more insights to this discussion than I can,” she said. “Tell me Hange, what went on after our last therapy session. Did he really have finals?”

“Yes we did. I was busy too so I didn’t think too much of it then but the weeks leading up to finals are usually more hectic for any student….”

“Would you know if he still continued to write after the finals?”

“He did.”

“You seem sure.”

“He shared the document.” Hange started. She unlocked her phone and opened her drive document. It wouldn’t be there, she was sure of that but she could have saved it and it would have still been there. She forced a smile as her mouth threatened to curl down. Hange was still scolding herself for wasting such an opportunity. She let her phone fall carelessly on the coffee table in front of her and leaned back on the sofa. “So I got to read it.”

“Did Captain Levi really die?” Shela asked.

“No. Commander Hange did.”

“So before he deleted it, Commander Hange died?”

“That was the last chapter I read. Then an hour or so later, I confronted him about it, he asked me to leave me alone, then the next thing I know he deleted the file.” Hange leaned her head back on the backrest and stared up at the ceiling. “But you know, he didn’t want to believe that Hange died. She burned alive, he described it so vividly in his writing but he kept telling me, she didn’t die.

“Oh?”

“If someone burned alive, they should be dead right? Maybe there was a sequel to it that he just didn’t write yet.”

“But if Hange were alive, wouldn’t Levi have seen it through instead of doing something so rash as to delete the whole thing? Levi has a tendency of…”

Running away? Not processing things? Hange looked back at Shela and nodded slowly.

Shela seemed distracted. She was staring at something upward, mumbling to herself as if finding the right words to say. “Trying not to regret things,” she added a few seconds later.

“Regret… I noticed that. With the jumping and the injury but I wanted to ask you, if you think the story is somehow connected to how he’s processing his injury.”

“I have theories but they’re not mine to tell. Have you asked Levi yourself?”

Hange was almost tempted to laugh. That seemed like the only way her body knew how to process the last week alone in the dorm. She had sent three texts, a question about when he had gone home, a birthday greeting and a New Year’s greeting. “I don’t think he wants to talk to me anymore,” Hange said. She avoided Shela’s gaze. Somehow, her heart was racing then, her blood was rushing to her face much faster than usual and she found herself curling her fists into a ball, finding some semblance of control in them. Was she ashamed that Levi wasn’t talking to her? She shook her head. “But you know, I can try to talk to Levi.”

“What about this… I’ll contact Levi when he comes back. I’ll try to get his side of what’s been happening. Maybe I can even get him to reply.”

“Are you sure you can’t tell me anything now? Maybe even something vague. I can try to figure the rest out for myself,” Hange said. She couldn’t tell then if she had raised her voice.

Shela didn’t seem shaken at all. She shook her head again. “This is between me and my patients.”

Hange had integrity, she understood confidentiality clauses. She had been researching all her life though, and that side of her still continued to fight. Maybe if the hints weren’t all there, poking at her, just provoking, she would have given up much more easily “I just wanna understand it, I wanna understand him. Even if we don’t talk after this. Even if Levi wants to end this, you know I’m fine. I just wanna figure out for myself why he acted that way. I’m worried.”

Shela cocked her head to the side, her expression unchanging. “Believe me, I’m worried too but I can’t say much. Levi’s my patient and whatever we talk about in this room is between us.” She pushed the two binders on the table towards Hange and continued. “But I don’t want to leave you empty handed. I wrote two pieces for my dissertation which you might find useful, something personal and something professional, I can send over a copy of both of them to you over email. Or if you want a hard copy, you could have this photocopied in the library nearby. What do you think works for you?”

The digression had Hange’s lips trembling then. Shela knew things she didn’t for sure and Hange found herself tempted to even curse silently at that confidentiality clause.

She opened the cover to find the title page in black ink, in one of the most readable fonts.

Signs that suggest the reality of reincarnation and its manifestations in patients.

You got what you wanted. Hange thought to herself as she scanned the title page of the document in front of her. It was a cold and professional title. The researcher inside her should have been satisfied. But she wasn’t. She wasn’t ungrateful either. “Thank you, I’ll make sure to read it,” she said. It was still help anyway.

Another, much thinner book was pushed next to it.

Musings on a Past Life: Written by Kuchel Ackerman

“This is my own personal copy,” Shela explained. “It’s not something you should be emulating when doing research but… I thought it could give you some insight to your thesis.

“Okay, if I have some extra time, I’ll---”

No actually, let’s make this your little homework. I want you to read both pieces. And if you get a chance to talk to Levi again…”

Shela probably said something after that. At that point though, Hange was somewhere else. She had pulled the thinner document towards her and propped it on her lap, and scanned through it. She only had to read through the first paragraph on one of the final pages to understand why it wouldn’t have passed up as anything academic.

She wasn’t rattling off procedures, scientific speculations or statistical procedures. She was painting pictures of dark streets, cramped streets and a shabby one bedroom alone with a baby. She spoke of soft skin, a baby scent that never faded and illness. She reflected on loss, regret all manifesting in that last face she saw before she fell asleep for the final time.

A teary eyed face. A shaken voice begging at her not to fall asleep. And then nothing.

Maybe there was darkness, darker than the ceiling of the underground, darker than the room that had been hers and her child.

That was left to mercy of  Hange’s speculation.

It was only when she was alone in the dorm, two days after, did she reopen it. It had taken her more time than necessary to finish it and maybe it had been because she had ended up rereading whole paragraphs, flipping pages back more times than she could count.

And it was only then, after finishing that personal file did she feel compelled enough to read the official output.

She opened a page, towards an introduction, a foreword or a message. Possibly all of those at once. But it connected so seamlessly to Kuchel’s own musings.

A False Bottom.

All humans feel. Even when they say they don’t, they feel something.

Human psyche is an endless blackhole of emotions, knowledge and experiences….

There are still things psychologists cannot comprehend about the human psyche. All we can do is endeavor to make sense of it…

With this thesis, the researcher proposes that one possible explanation for unpredictable bouts of emotion, out-of-character decisions, the phenomena of irrationality is the phenomena of reincarnation…

Manifestations of our past life.

“And maybe there are emotions that transcend our worldly experiences. Maybe there are emotions that transcend the constraints of time, place and life.. It’s just a matter of believing that false bottom exists and embracing it when it manifests itself.”

And how many times did Hange allow those words to echo inside her as she sifted through page after page. Enough times at least to have her open a blank document.

As she soon found out, it wasn’t easy at all to embrace the blank document. She was completely aware she didn’t have to open the blank document, she had a half filled one already, having started on her own thesis a while back.

But something had willed her to do just that. Something inside her that wanted answers to questions, and it begged for them,  clamored for them and Hange was starting to forget who even asked it. She? Or Kuchel?

Musings of a Past Life. Hange had typed out the title days ago already. Maybe it wasn’t easy because it wasn’t her past life to write. It was Levi’s past.

Or so that was what Levi claimed when he wrote it. “Ugh…. What the hell am I doing?” Hange removed her headphones, closed her eyes tight, inhaled then exhaled. “Okay Hange. You wanted to write this thesis for Levi right? You read his whole story. This should be easy.”

She just needed to write enough to remember his story. Enough to at least shoehorn him into her own thesis.

“And after that, you never have to think about him again,” Hange said. She opened her phone again and stared at the last sent message.

January 3 6:21 AM

Wanna talk when you get back?

“I wonder…. Did you talk to Shela?” Hange asked quietly, almost to herself. But Shela would have told her right? But what if Levi told her not to tell? What if he just wanted to cut it off already?

It was an idea Hange didn’t want to entertain just yet. Thesis was looming, graduation was hanging over her head like some sort of dark cloud. She didn’t have time to deal with heartbreak.

So in the wee hours of morning, Hange composed a quick last message to Levi.

January 5 2:23 AM

Hey, I’m sorry about everything. I should have been more sensitive to your needs. Even if you don’t wanna meet after this, it’s fine. I had a great time working with you and I’ll remember these past few months :D. I’m just sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.

Just assure me please. Did you get to talk to someone? I hope you did. I was just concerned. But it doesn’t matter too much now. As long as you’re okay.

And the next few actions after that were automatic.

Settings. Profile. Ignore Messages.

She had more important things to think about then. She had to admit, her inbox was starting to look a bit better without that thread she was constantly checking that had a string of messages that had been so pathetically ignored.

That last decision and the last few actions leading up to it had sapped more energy from Hange than she had expected it to. Or maybe it was the dim light of the early morning and the small yet strong light of her lamp that had her realizing how exhausted she had been then.

She switched off the lamp and fell back on the bed. The impact had shaken her to the bone and Hange found herself sinking into the mattress. She was happy to let it swallow her then.

The night was surprisingly bright. Yet, at the same time it had been a dark night, she was sure. She traced the sources of the light on the ceiling above. The light painted triangles, squares and straight cut angles. There were spots from other sources, maybe where the moon bounced on some glass objects.

Hange was too exhausted to sit up to see those refractions for herself.

She may have been too exhausted then to type in front of a computer or even sit up in bed so instead, she continued to count spots, trace the dim weak rays in the ceiling of her room, as she traced them back to the wide window, all the way to the point where she would have to crane her head to see what lay beyond. She soon realized, she still wasn’t tired enough to doze off.

The gears in her brain continued to turn. And they had only started to turn faster with all the intricate patterns the moonlight had created as it shone through the wide window of her dormitory room.

Should she close the curtains so she could get a good night's sleep? That question only occupied her for a second or so before she thought of something else.

And maybe there are sensations that transcend our worldly experiences. Maybe there are emotions that transcend the constraints of time, place and life. It’s just a matter of believing that false bottom exists and embracing it when it breaks open.

But if these emotions transcended worldly experiences, if they transcended life, then they should be unfathomable, not worth the effort of understanding.

Hange though, had been a researcher for as long as she could remember. She had mottos. She had habits. She had unshakable ways of thinking.

Turning to her side was easy. It was a quick, comfortable movement and maybe she had done it to sleep better. Or maybe she had done it to just get a better angle of the stream of moonlight that entered through the window.

Her desk sat on a familiar angle. Her laptop was open but turned off. Her bag slung over the chair.

The stream from the moonlight shone over her canvas bag and down to the floor. It created a web of intricate patterns, patterns that had Hange hypnotized at that moment. They were angular yet they were round and it would have taken hours for Hange to trace them in her exhausted state.

Yet they were hypnotizing enough for her not to want to look away. So in an effort to keep up with the challenge the moonlight had given her at that moment, she continued to reflect as she traced at it with her eyes.

False bottoms. Sensations that transcend worldly experiences, Emotions that transcend the constraints of time and space.

“But if they are things that transcend human comprehension, then how do we make sense of them?”

Ironically, it had been in the most intricate of patterns that Hange saw the answer. It had been in something so mundane that Hange had to blink twice and question it for a second longer.

“Dreams?” Hange asked, barely a whisper.

If there’s something you don’t understand, go out and learn to understand it.

She didn’t understand Levi’s dreams. She didn’t understand how his mind worked. She didn’t understand the stories he had written out.

There were things she didn’t understand for sure but there were things she remembered.

And maybe all she needed to understand something, was the right amount of hints, the right amount of crumbs to make sense of it herself. Maybe all she needed was the review of related literature, the observations and her own analysis to write a conclusion.

The dreamcatcher hung aimlessly from her canvas bag like it always did. It had been something almost unnoticeable before. Only in the night when the moon shined on it, when it had etched a large shadow on the floor, possibly even a hundred times larger than the small keychain in her bag did Hange think about it again.

And she thought about it hard enough to reach for it from the side off her bed. She stretched her hand farther and farther and in the dark, her sense of distance may have been a little worse.

She thought she had been almost there and she was pulled back into that cruel reality in a single moment, with a loud painful thud.

“Ow!” Hange quickly got up, a result of that adrenaline rush from the harrowing experience of a painful fall from her bed. She unfastened the dream catcher from her bag, on the way back to the bed, she grabbed her phone, her earphones and sat on her bed.

That time, she eased herself onto the bed and under the covers.

She held the dreamcatcher above her, tracing the purple, the green. She knew they were purple and green but under the moonlight they seemed almost blue, and maybe she could have even mistaken the purple and green for one another.

Her only hint to the shades after all were the way they reflected the moonlight on themselves.

Eventually, her arms got tired, still aching from that painful fall. She slipped the dream catcher under her pillow and turned on her side. She put one earphone on her left ear, another on her right and she turned on her phone and shuffled her music.

The dormitory was silent with everyone gone for the holidays.

Eerily silent. She was used to living alone, it wasn’t anything new. But recently, she had frequently found herself missing him, maybe missing her parents, she started to realize the silence, the isolation that came with it was almost unbearable.

So maybe she had been listening to music, maybe she had been talking to herself a little more.

And those dreams, they probably would help. Hange thought to herself as she set her phone to her side, a good distance from the edge of the bed.

She had dreamt enough to know, she couldn’t control dreams. But if they did come, they would come in hints, puzzle pieces and maybe something she could easily write down in the morning.

So she willed them to come in that silent night. She whispered to Commander Zoe. She pressed that dream catcher one more time.

Hange closed her eyes, adjusted the volume of the music and evened her breathing.

The dreams would choose when to come, if they chose to come at all. All she could do was trust in them.

***

Levi would have liked to blame the snow for his inability to concentrate.

It was fucking loud. The patter came too randomly, Levi struggled to find patterns in it. For a few seconds at a time, the snow would patter on the window in big loud waves. Other times, the snow came in plip plops reminiscent of a rainy spring day. A few times, it shifted to something slow and gentle Levi could have used it to lull himself to sleep.

It was a piece of music on rubato, and the musician was just a little too keen on leaving his audience unhinged.

And just that quick thought at least absolved Levi of any blame. He didn’t feel too much self loathing then. Just utter frustration and maybe a pinch of sadness.

The document in front of him was just a mish mash black words on white paper and for the life of him, he couldn’t imagine they could be anything else. The top section was descriptive, very descriptive that he should have been able to do so much as to smell the whore house. He should have been able to grieve the loss of a mother.

But it was just black on white.

So Levi scrolled down three pages to find a source of investment elsewhere. He found vivid descriptions of life on a wheelchair, a frequented grave but for the life of him, he couldn’t even imagine the large tree above, or the vivid descriptions of airplanes on the blue sky.

But it was just words on paper.

“What do you think?” Hange asked. She looked at him expectantly. “It’s not a lot… I’ve just been working on this in between my thesis and I don’t have much going for me but my own memories… But I rewrote some bullet points while I was trying to remember it and I just thought you know if I put my own writings in between what you have so far...maybe it could help you process it.”

“Process... it?”

“But if you don’t wanna think about it, it’s fine.”

Remember? Levi wanted to remember. Those weren’t black pixels on white pixels, conveniently strung together to make symbols. They were vivid descriptions of another world, another life for sure. But why couldn’t he bring himself to invest in it… Anymore?

“Maybe I just need a break,” Levi set aside the laptop on the side table and leaned back on the bed.

“You’re tired, injured. You could even get sick,” Hange said. “I don’t expect you to think too much of it, I just thought it would help pass the time.” She looked away guiltily.

“I’m not angry about you forcing me to get my knee checked again. Jumping in the dead of winter with a sprained knee was a stupid move.”

“I know it was. But I also know you’re probably tired of hospitals already.”

“I am tired of hospitals. But you were right. When they tested my knee, it didn’t feel right. I’m pretty sure I tore something again.”

“It was swelling… And I knew we could have just iced it but, you know you jumped pretty high, you ran pretty fast, it’s kinda scary you did that with your knee... In the middle of winter of all times of the year? God---Levi, What were you thinking? Armin told me he’d stop by the field to pick up Mikasa’s things so you know if I didn’t go out to meet him just in case he got lost, I probably wouldn’t have made it. At least Armin had half the mind to text me when you wouldn’t listen to him…” Hange trailed off. “But I wish I had arrived earlier, maybe I could have stopped you.”

“You wouldn’t have convinced me not to jump,” Levi said.

“Why do you say that?”

“No one would have convinced me. I was dead set on jumping that one last time.”

“Why did you wanna jump?”

“Closure.” It was a simple answer to a simple question. But as Levi enunciated each syllable, he became a little self conscious about how pretentiously short that answer had been. It was closure, he was sure but there were layers to that answer he couldn’t comprehend for himself in that moment.

Hange seemed to sense it too. She narrowed her eyes at him and opened her mouth ready to speak before she closed it again and let her eyes fall on the hospital bed. “Couldn’t you find closure elsewhere? Did you have to risk your knee for it?”

“What do you know? ” Levi ran his eyes over his thighs and up to his knee propped on a few pillows. He started to feel the beginnings of guilt a second later. His intention never was to offend.

What do you know? That question had been for him.

You didn’t live your whole college life jumping only to end up in a state where you can barely walk. Was that what Hange heard? Maybe. She looked like she did. After all, she was blushing then. As if she had been aware of that slight vulnerability, she bit her lip, looked away and stretched out over the side of the bed to get back her laptop.

Levi felt obligated to reassure her. “You know I don’t intend to jump again. I wish I could. But I think that last jump helped me accept that that part of my life is over.”

“So, what next?” Hange asked. “Erwin mentioned you could get surgery to fix the partial tear.”

Levi shook his head. “And skip more school then hope I can jump again? The surgery isn't necessary. The knee can heal on its own.”

“But what about other---”

“Jumping opportunities? Other athletic opportunities? I said, that part of my life is over.”

“You had a lot of talent you know.”

“You’re not the first person to say that.”

Hange managed a smile, a smile that was far from happy. But at the least, it could be contagious. “Then it was an honor to see you fly that one last time Captain Levi.”

Levi could have sworn he saw something glisten as she crinkled her eyes, a supplement to her wry smile. “I was never the captain of my team. You know that,” he said.

“That wasn’t what I meant---” Hange had been meaning to finish, or at least she looked like it. The knock on the door though had been loud and it tore through that soft conversation.

Hange stood up from her seat and opened the door slowly.

“Erwin told me you too would be here. I finished up early today so I thought I’d pop in.”

Levi nodded in greeting. He had been too ashamed to say anything else. But he was determined at least to show some respect.

“It looks like you two are talking again. Doctor Erwin told me what happened and I thought…” The moment Kuchel made eye contact with Levi, her eyes widened. “Levi… You…”

Levi found himself particularly self conscious then, he looked down at his thick sweater, at his knee. “I sprained my knee again.”

Kuchel was quick to recover. “I noticed that much,” she said. “I was talking about…” She gave him a long awkward onceover. She shook her head.

She wasn’t the only one who seemed uncomfortable then. Hange hadn’t looked back at him since Kuchel had entered the room. Her whole disposition had somehow changed in that few seconds.

“You okay?” Levi asked.

Hange didn’t answer. She booted her laptop again and angled it towards Kuchel who had approached them and set a chair next to his bed.

“It looks like you managed to let go already Captain Levi.” Kuchel said, as she cocked her head to the side and smiled.

Captain Levi. The words whispered once again inside him, too softly Levi found it easy to brush it away. “You know, you were right. The emotions would leave on their own. It still hurts but I don’t see any reason to fight it if I know it’s gonna heal eventually. That’s how closure is supposed to feel like right?”

Shela shook her head. “Closure manifests differently for each person. But it’s normal to forget when you accept. Sometimes we find ourselves forgetting why we were ever sad at all. Or sometimes we just forget the details. Or sometimes it just feels like everything was all just a bad dream.”

“These past few months since the injury, they’re starting to blur together like some dream.” He turned to Hange who was starting to seem more and more uncomfortable. He chose that moment to reflects and he started to wonder why he had even avoided her in the first place. His next few words came out automatically “ I’m sorry what I did, and about our fight last month, I wasn’t angry about the injury if that’s what you think,” Levi said. The apology came out of nowhere, it felt misplaced. He started realize that maybe he should have given that apology much earlier.

Why then?

Hange had heard the apology for sure, but maybe she had just chosen to ignore it. “But Levi, you wrote these right? These dreams?” Hange said, as if she had taken his stare then as some cue to speak. She turned to Kuchel and to Levi, her movements seemed desperate then. She had at least kept some composure in her expression.

“I wrote them out,” Levi said. “But to be honest... I’m starting to forget why I did.”

"Emotions and dreams fickle things. They come and go when they please but sometimes we wanna keep them on record so we could relive it and process it. That’s why if you wanna grasp it and preserve it before it leaves... If you wanna be able to relive it, you have to write it down. This is why I ask all my patients to write things out. "

"Levi did." Hange turned to Levi. You wrote everything down right? You showed me a while ago, you wrote this and this… Shela, if they were his dreams, his emotions...he was writing it"

Shela’s expression was unmoving. "Those dreams weren’t supposed to be his. Maybe that's why they had been just a little more fickle. Who knows? Maybe Captain Levi just took it back already.”

“Why take it back?” Hange asked

“Maybe he fulfilled his unfinished business. Maybe he found closure.”

“But Levi you should have remembered writing it? You’ve been on it for months. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten these last three months right?”

“I haven’t,” Levi said reassuringly.

“Then why aren’t you thinking about it anymore. Why am I the one thinking about it for you?” Hange pressed. There was a crack in her voice and Hange looked ready to slam her laptop on the floor.

“I remember writing it. I’m just wondering for myself why I wrote it out in the first place. Maybe because I didn’t have much to do. I got injured, I was stuck at home and you know, those days in your apartment, those days stuck in the dorm, they just blended together.”

“But you weren’t just indoors… We went out to the mountains. You were telling me these stories and you were telling me how Commander Hange was like. Levi, I felt things. I remembered all of it. You can’t just leave me hanging like this---”

Shela cleared her throat, uncharacteristically louder than usual. “You know, you seem more relaxed now. How does it feel Levi? Does it feel like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders? Like you walk up from a bad dream?"

Levi nodded. "I'm just wondering why I'm exhausted."

“Of course you’re exhausted, you jumped while injured in the middle of winter. But relaxed is still a different feeling altogether, particularly compared to you the past few months. When I look at you now, you seem… freer?”

Freer? Levi shrugged. When had he ever been trapped?  

For a while the room had been silent and it was Hange who broke it. "Levi, I wrote everything out, about what happened to Captain Levi in the survey corps. You may have deleted the file but I remembered them. These were your stories. These were the dreams you had. Hell, if Kuchel’s theory is correct, these are memories from your past life."

To humor Hange more than anything, Levi reread the bullet points and the effort quickly proved futile. They were bullet points of events, they could have been a timeline that Levi couldn’t for the life of him make sense of it. And he found himself a little annoyed at her tenacity.

“You still have a lot to write Hange, even I can’t make sense of it,” Kuchel said from behind. She gave Hange a reassuring pat.

The pout on Hange’s face, the way it had darkened into something similar to disappointment, had Levi almost guilty. Her emotions ran deeper than disappointment, he was sure. And for a second or so, Hange seemed crestfallen, ready to leave the room. The only thing tying her to the room then could have been her own strong penchant for seeking answers,

“You think you’ll be able to write again?” Hange asked. She looked like she could have said more. It was as if squeezing out that one sentence had sapped all energy out of her.

Levi shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

“When?”

“When the inspiration comes again.”

***

When will the inspiration come again? Hange always asked good questions and if she asked a question that couldn’t be answered, she always had an explanation to follow. Or at the least, she knew how to phrase questions in a way that could get answers.

Levi couldn’t answer and Hange wasn't helping him either. The tense silence that followed, loomed exclusively over the two of them. Although the conversation had shifted to a dialogue between Levi and Kuchel, even when Hange had kept quiet, pulling her focus back on her laptop in front of her, or her phone, the tension never left.

Levi had attempted to cut at it by focusing on Kuchel. He had provided a long drawn out explanation of his own emotions for Kuchel and in return, Kuchel had provided a long drawn out interpretation of his explanations.

Maybe drawing the conversation out longer than expected was unnecessary. In the end, the only take home Levi had for himself then was that the past few months were a blur and any effort to make sense of it would be completely futile.

Kuchel left them both in the silence, mentioning something about another meeting. Alone in the room, in the tense silence continued to haunt. It was Hange who spoke up again asking that same question. “When will inspiration come again?”

“You sound pretty fixated on my inspiration. Maybe you should write the end for yourself then.” The sudden acceptance had Levi relaxing on the bed soon after Kuchel had left the room.

“It’s not about writing… This story in particular, it meant a lot to me too.”

“I’m sure it meant a lot. It meant a lot to me too but weirdly, I just don’t care about it as much as I used to.”

“What about us?”

“What do you mean ‘about us?’”

“About us… The past few things you were writing the story and you were talking about Commander Hange and Captain Levi. That was about us right?”

“You heard my answer to Kuchel, it was a blur.”

“No, I meant about us in the past few months. Are you angry with me? Do you want me out of your life?”

“You wanna leave?.”

“No it’s not that. It’s just…” Hange breathed out, shaking her head in disbelief. “You didn’t talk to me for weeks.”

Levi looked away, hiding the wince in his face. “I told you, I’m sorry I don’t even remember why I did it.”

“So do you want me here?”

“Yes, I don't want you to leave, I thought it was obvious.”

“Well it looks like it wasn’t so obvious, I thought you’d want me to leave. You didn’t reply to any of my messages and I remembered, we’ve only known each other for months.”

“I think 'months' are more than enough for me to realize that I want you here. For a long time. Maybe longer than that.” Maybe even forever.

Did he say that ‘forever’ part out loud? He didn’t expect Hange’s smile then.

Her eyes were wide open, her lips curled up into a big smile. The overall expression on her face had seemed unreadable. She could have been mocking him, she could have been freaked out or she could have been that good balance between surprised and happy “So what are you saying? We’re soulmates?” She asked.

“You don’t believe in soulmates,” Levi said. The facade of disconnect was hurriedly done, consequently, it felt almost shoddy.

“Fate?”

“You told me yourself, you don’t believe in fate either.

“I don’t.”

“It was a choice right? Everything that brought us to this point was all just borne of choice. You made the choice to work for me, I made the choice to cooperate and here we are.” Levi felt a hand slip under his and it grabbed him from underneath. Levi didn’t have to look down to comprehend it, Hange’s face had said it all.

“But you know, I’m starting to believe in this abstract thing called soulmates. And this other abstract thing called fate,” she said

“Aren’t you a researcher?”

“I have the evidence, Levi. Someone has been coming into my dreams too and she’s been telling me about you.”

“You know, they must have been some really good dreams if they convinced you to believe in them.

“They were. They really were. And you know what, they only keep coming.”

Levi had closed his eyes long before then. And the patter on the window had mellowed to something rhythmic and along the way it had softened altogether. Whether it had been due to the even patter or through her own volition, Hange had stopped talking, her breath had evened out.

And when Levi started to dream again, the shift had been too gradual, too kind. The dreams weren’t loud, they didn't demand attention. They didn’t make themselves known. When Levi opened his eyes again, the idea that he had fallen asleep had seemed almost surreal, unbelievable.

“You can go back to sleep,” Hange said. She seemed focused on something on her laptop again.

Levi looked out the window, the sky was dark but the snow continued to fall.

“Erwin told us we could stay another night.”

“Why?”

“We’re completely snowed in.”

“Okay,” Levi said. He had attempted to go back to sleep and it had only proved frustratingly unsuccessful. The confusion at having the view by the window so suddenly shift from sky blue to complete black still had him disoriented.

So he found orientation in Hange’s concentrated look then and the white of the screen reflected in her glasses. Even behind the glare, her long lashes were noticeable, her hazel brown eyes could still be traced, the shades of brown discerned. So he continued to looked, and he had managed to pass the time much more quickly.

“How are you feeling?” Hange asked as she looked up at him. The glare of the screen disappeared from her glasses and Levi found himself unable to respond for a second longer as he appreciated the unmarred view of her eyes then.

It was a lucid view of her then that sent a pang of regret through him. It was quick and if Levi didn’t let it wash through him then, if he didn’t give it full control over him in that moment, maybe he would have never remembered it happened, maybe he would have never remembered to appreciate Hange then.

“I feel like I just had one long dream,” Levi said. maybe the dreams could have explained the slight pang of regret then. But they were too far off already for Levi to look back on. So he surrendered quickly and kept silent.

Hange didn’t hesitate to take the reins of the conversation. “I was writing.”

“About what?”

“About your dreams. I'm trying to remember what else you wrote.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think you ever gave names to the two titans you caught for me."

Titans? Levi couldn't follow the conversation. With nothing else much to contribute, he nodded.

Hange continued. “So I named them myself.”

“What did you name them?” Levi asked, an attempt to humor her more than anything.

Hange’s face had curled to a smile as she spoke and she opened her mouth a little bit, exposing her teeth underneath. She seemed to be enjoying it. “Their names are Sonny and Bean"

Somehow, Levi was starting to get invested too. “Hey Hange, since we’re gonna be stuck here for a while, maybe you can tell me what a titan is.”

[mnictasbcl]

Don’t Think

Here is my next story for @connor-sent-by-cyberlife’s #dbhghostsinthemachine challenge, prompt OCT 6: Data Missing. 

Relationships: Hank Anderson & Connor

Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson

Tags: Memory Loss, Partial amnesia, Swearing, Fainting, Blood and injury, self injury, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Amanda was gone, destroyed. But the Zen Garden was a vital part of his mind. Connor couldn’t expect for things to be normal once it was gone, not when the garden had been intricately linked with his core memories.

Read it on AO3! Or, read below.

Connor felt normal as he blinked back to awareness on the stage, staring out at the sea of androids. Markus was making his speech, the Jericho members standing on the other corners of the stage. The androids were free.

Yes, and he’d helped them. Had helped by deviating, helping them out of the sinking freighter, proposed the plan to go to the Cyberlife Tower—

He jolted, as if a current had been sparked in his brain, shocking him. Cyberlife Tower—

It happened again. Oh, it was unpleasant, and he didn’t feel like facing it again. Maybe it was a glitch, after all he had just destroyed a big part of his program. He’d had to avoid thinking about those words, for now.

Meanwhile there was celebrating to do. Not with the others, no, he couldn’t stand with them and act like he hadn’t almost shot their leader in the back of the head. Instead, he celebrated his newfound deviancy, freedom, by walking into the cold Detroit streets and going nowhere in particular.

Because he was free. They all were now. Free to do whatever he pleased. Free from orders, free from Amanda, free from…

What did he do before? Work, right. At the DPD—

Connor opened his eyes and found he’d fallen to his knees, clutching his head. Huh, it had happened again. His LED spun, processing the facts. Certain words caused blinding pain.

Pain. Well, he guessed that solved that question: androids didn’t feel pain, but deviants sure did. He pinched his arm and yelped.

“Fuck.” He swore, and the pain in his head tripled.

   …………………………………………………………………………………………………

 Connor awoke lying on the cold pavement of a street in Detroit. Cold snow was beginning to seep into his trousers, uncomfortable and wet, biting at his artificial skin. He pushed himself to his knees, hand ghosting over the side of his head. His hand came away wet and slick with fresh blue thirium.

He must have fallen, then. It was the day of the Revolution- maybe he’d partied too hard?

Yeah, right. He was on his own in the middle of a street, no one in sight, the only signs of life the distant cries and cheers of the celebrating androids far, far away.

He’d probably just passed out, for no reason. Maybe he was malfunctioning.

Connor blinked, stared at his hands for a moment longer before wiping them over his suit jacket. It was a shitty jacket anyway, and goddamn waterproof.

He groaned, pain sparking back up with every swear he internalised. Why was swearing causing him so much pain? Or thinking about the DPD—

He railed his fists against the snow, over and over and over, until his hands were numb, and dents caved in his thumb. Well, that hurt. That hurt a lot.

But at least the ache in his head had subsided. He concluded that it was down to thinking. About specific things, but he didn’t know what these things were until it was too late.

Mission: Don’t think.

So, he continued again to mindlessly walk, hands hanging limp and useless at his sides, blue blood trickling down the side of his face. What a sight to see, to behold, an android in his own ruin, eyes dead ahead, the prospect of merely existing a struggle.

Evening became night. Night became early morning. At some point, the cheers died down.

The first time someone called him, he muted the ringtone of any incoming calls, before eventually blocking them all. He didn’t need to think. Couldn’t. Just had to walk and hope the glitch would fix itself.

When he stumbled over a curb, he decided it was time to take a break. An unthinking break, mind you. Simply sitting on the curb by a closed-up shop which, upon inspection, looked a whole lot—

What was it now? The place with its chicken-y name, its rusted metal door, looking at the table beside it sent him tearing out handfuls of his hair, screaming and screaming until—

      …………………………………………………………………………………………………

 He awoke in a different place, with different clothes and aching hands.

Connor stared up and saw a ceiling. Felt the soft plush mattress beneath him, the covers draped over his shivering body.

The sight of the room caused no pain, so he dared to sit up. He was in a house; someone had bandaged his hands and his head had stopped leaking thirium. It was mostly empty, save for the chair in the corner, some artwork, and a closed closet at the other end of the room.

Peace would not last long. Someone knocked on the door, and before long it was pushed open roughly. A dog ran into the room, big and panting and—

Errorerrrorerror

DATA MISSING

Connor clasped his hands over his head again, turning away from the dog, who whimpered sadly at his apparent rejection.

But soon the stimuli was gone, door closed shut, dog far away. He dared to peek out between his fingers, and saw—

Shaggy grey hair, stripy shirt, concerned blue eyes—

A hoarse static sound tore from his throat, error messages beginning to pile up in his vision in their dozens. Something was wrong, something upon seeing the things outside, then the dog, and then this man—this man was the culmination of all his problems. Error, error, error, data missing, data missing.

He tried to close the errors, but they multiplied infinitely over his software. So he tried to push away the missing data.

Warning.

Delete damaged data file?

Connor flicked through the file. Images of the man with the grey hair, the DPD, his dog, Chicken Feed—but they were all broken, parts of each image, each file, each dialogue received, torn apart. All clustering together in one big mess, causing any recollection to make him suffer.

Delete Hank.exe?

He paused. That… that was the man’s name? Hank. Hank. Despite the pain it caused him, he kept thinking of the word. Over and over and over until the errors were gone and, in their place, just as red and blinding read:

HANK

This file seemed at the forefront of his memory, no wonder it had been damaged if something had happened to his mind. It seemed important.

If he deleted it, he would forget this man forever.

…but if he didn’t, would it cause him to feel these horrible things every time he even thought about the man?

Connor closed his eyes. There had to be a way. When Amanda tried to control him, take over his body, he’d found an emergency exit and clawed his way out.

So that meant he didn’t have to delete this file, but he didn’t have to live with it either. If it was damaged, maybe he could fix it. The error was missing data: so he had to get back that data.

He reached out blindly, grabbing a hold of the man’s arm, who stumbled forwards at the rough contact. His skin peeled back, white chassis revealed but he couldn’t interface, couldn’t—

It was a human. Well, he supposed this human couldn’t be bad, then. He added ‘good’ to the list, hoping to repair some missing data.

Being good meant that he hadn’t tried to stop the revolution. Helped with the Revolution.

Helped with the Revolution meant friend.

Hank. Good. Helped with revolution. Friend. Friend. Friend.

Of course, he was his friend. He’d got over his hatred of androids, helped him with cases, even went so far as to risking his job so he wouldn’t lose his life. He helped him disguise to blend into Jericho, despite not agreeing with his cause, and they’d—

Connor groaned, eyes snapping open. Forcing himself to look the man in the face and take in his features one by one.

“Who are you?” He finally grit out.

The man, despite his initial shock, sat down beside Connor on the bed and patted his knee. “I’m Hank, Connor. Your, uh, partner at the DPD?”

“You don’t work at the DPD anymore, and I helped Markus with the android revolution.”

Hank laughed. “Yeah, I got suspended for a while. And I don’t know about you. But… that’s where we met.”

Connor closed his eyes, opened the memory file on their meeting. Jimmy’s bar.

“You swore at me and not long after threw me against a wall when we first met. I do not understand. If we are friends, we must have met somewhere else.”

“Nah, that’s just my dashing first impression, Con—”

“Con. What is that?”

“That’s what I call you, sometimes, when you’re not being an asshole.”

“Am I usually an asshole?”

“Depends on the day.”

“Huh. It appears my files see you as an asshole sometimes, too.”

Hank snorted. “Whatever. So… what’s exactly… uh, happening? I found you outside Chicken Feed trying to tear yourself a new haircut and…”

“My memory files about you are damaged. I am trying to piece them back together.”

“Oh. So you don’t, uh, fuckin’ remember me, then?”

“No, I have memories of you. They’re just damaged and need repair.”

“That’s what the cryptic questions are for.”

“Exactly. So… you are my friend. We are both assholes sometimes.”

“Yeah, basically. Anything else you need to know?”

He thought long and hard for a moment. “Yes. I seem to have everything apart from one vital thing… something in the middle, it is missing,” he gestured, “and until I fix it, looking at you causes great pain.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It is… I do not understand what it is to do with. I have every memory of you now, but—it is your logistics. Who you are. To me.” Connor cleared his throat awkwardly, looking down at the bedcovers. “Who are you? I thought classifying as a friend was enough. But this seems inconclusive, not complex enough for these human emotions I seem to be feeling. Relationships are not meant to be so linear, so…”

“Defined? What are you getting at, Con?”

“It’s that. Con. What you call me, this… affection. How you seemed to care, to bring me off the street when I was causing damage to myself…”

“Well, uh, yeah, I care. And we were meant to be meeting up there after you finished partying with your friends.”

“What were we going to do, exactly?”

“Uh… catch up? Maybe work out what the fuck you’re going to do now. And…” Hank looked away. “Nevermind.”

“No, there’s something else.”

He shook his head. “Asshole. Fine. It was… it was… Fuck, just let me show you, okay?”

When Connor nodded, Hank leant forwards and wrapped him into a warm embrace. He froze at the contact, words flashing across his vision, Hank, Hank, Hank, friend, friend—

Data Restored

And breathed a sigh of relief before hugging him back. Hank wasn’t friend, Hank was… Hank was warmth and comfort, bluntness with kindness tucked underneath, he was the gentle giant of his large dog, caring actions covered up with a ‘fuck you’.

He was Hank. And that was enough.

[jessicalucas]

Why did Jeremiah want Ecco dead, and how did he pull it off?

It is my solid belief that Jeremiah wanted Ecco to die, and I have several reasons why. It starts when he was sprayed, however back then it was more of an indifference to if she died or not. If you think about what he made her do, he made her shoot herself, he put her in the bunker to keep Jim there with the chance that it could blow up with her still in it, he almost definitely made her be the one to converse with all the dangerous gangs and criminals to exert his dominance over them. All were high risk situations where she could have died, but there was always a chance that she wouldn’t. We know that a lot of Jeremiah’s relationships were fuelled by obsessions, but I don’t think he was obsessed with Ecco as a person, I think he was obsessed with the fact that he had been able to manipulate a person so well into being entirely devoted to him and changing their personality and manner, and Ecco was just the walking embodiment of that. Alongside her being useful due to this, by keeping her around he was constantly reminding himself of his achievement in making her who she was. He saw her as a possession of his own creation, but as he was just obsessed with that and not actually Ecco herself, she was expendable, but precious enough to allow a chance at living.

Which means that something changed between 5x07 and 5x12 in that ten years, something that changed Jeremiah from not caring if she died, to wanting her to die. That difference is evident in the finale, because if he didn’t actively wish for her to die, I imagine that he would have just left her dying with the stab wound, rather than ensuring that she would definitely die. There was a chance that she could have survived, I don’t know tons about stab wounds but people in Gotham have survived much worse injuries, Jeremiah has survived much worse injuries. But for once he didn’t allow her to have that chance.

This brings us to the ultimate question: why would Jeremiah want Ecco dead? She was loyal, he knew that she would do what he wanted, and he had his own personal protection wherever he meant. Clearly, the big event linking this change was the 10 years he spent in Arkham. Obviously we don’t see much of them there, but we see enough to establish that Ecco was his nurse and the person he solely relied upon, he used her to get information in and out and as far as we know, for a very large chunk of that 10 years she was the only person who knew he wasn’t braindead. Now, that has some very striking similarities to the role she played when she was his proxy, as back then he was reliant upon her to do so much, without her being able to leave the bunker he would have struggled a lot more. He was very dependent upon her, and at that point, I don’t think he minded. However, when he got sprayed and certain elements of his personality were intensified, the arrogance and self-obsession did as well, and he no longer wanted to be dependent upon someone, he believed himself to be the most important person that doesn’t need to answer to anyone. He brainwashed Ecco to flip it around, she was now the one dependent on him, and he had the full power.

When he went to Arkham, he no longer had that control over her. Ecco had no guidance, and automatically switched back into the role that she was most comfortable doing: looking after him. We don’t know how long Jeremiah was pretending to be brain dead, but when he woke up, he had to start pretending straight away. There was no way he could have done it without Ecco. Once again, their roles had been reversed and he was once again solely relying upon Ecco to look after him, to carry out everything he needed done, and to make sure he wasn’t discovered. He must have resented the fact that she could do everything he wanted to do, all his anger about having to wait for the right moment was now being channelled into his relationship with her, because that was the only real relationship he had at that moment in time. Unlike before, he no longer had an outlet for his anger. He couldn’t move, the only thing he could do was think. That would be enough to drive you further into madness, and to warp feelings towards someone else into negative emotions because that’s all you know. If Ecco brought him any messages from the outside, for example the news that Bruce had left Gotham, he couldn’t see them to develop hatred towards them, and so he does towards the nearest person at the time, which is Ecco. The resentment that he was dependent on her once more, the mixed messages in his brain from madness and the anger he felt for others all manifested itself into him beginning to develop very negative emotions when she was around.

But when does the line between disliking someone and wanting someone dead get crossed? For me, there’s two main reasons, and the first goes back to the point that she was acting very similar to her proxy phase. Not only was it echoed in actions, it was also similar in terms of her movement, body language, facial expressions, and appearance. She is quiet, stoic, she delivers her actions swiftly and with no theatrics. Sure, she had to blend in, but she didn’t need to when she killed the two men in Jeremiah’s cell. 

That reminded me of the scene where Jeremiah gets her to shoot the two guards, she does it with no hesitation, silently, deadly. Without the constant influence of Jeremiah being able to control her with words and actions, the façade he built up for her is ebbing away, and surfacing is the Ecco that was always still there, just hidden under the many layers of devotion that Jeremiah had built up. It’s not a quick process, she still has the same voice and wording as she does before, but she’s definitely changed from the person she was in 5x07. Note how she’s still in Arkham when I say this, because the rapid change in her between Arkham and Barbara’s club is important and I’ll get to that later. Essentially, what Jeremiah is seeing before him is all his work that he put in to manipulating her is fading away, that his power over her is no longer as strong as it was. Which makes him question: if it’s happened once, what’s to say it won’t happen again if he manages to brainwash her again? It’s bad enough letting people know that her manipulation wasn’t strong enough to hold when he wasn’t there to constantly enforce it, but for it to fail a second time? He could not allow it. The only solution for him to protect his status and for her to not break free from him, was for her to die.

Furthermore, her acting like his proxy again would have really brought him back to who he was the last time she acted like this, the man that had to fight so hard against his true nature that it made him ‘weak’. He did not want to be that person again, being terrified of his brother, hiding away for years because he couldn’t face the world. Ecco was a constant reminder of that, and I do think that he decided that Ecco was a very strong link between his past and present self, and the only way that the link would be severed would be for her to go away completely. Maybe that is what he tried to do initially instead of killing her, to make her into a different person with a new appearance that wouldn’t remind him of the labyrinth every time he looked at her, but he realised that it really was only a temporary fix and the only way to truly cut off his past was to destroy it. That’s what he did with the labyrinth itself, and it seems fitting to him to destroy all parts of it, including Ecco.

The second reason does have links to the first, and it is his vulnerability inside of Arkham. He pretty much had to be guided with Ecco, she was his ears, his eyes and his legs outside and inside Arkham. He had to let her, there was no other way that it could have worked to the extent that it did. He isn’t able to defend himself with words or physically, but also cannot do anything for himself, he can’t wash himself, dress himself, feed himself etc without dropping his act. The person who is seeing this helplessness first-hand constantly is Ecco. Jeremiah canonically sees himself as this godly figure, one who is all-powerful, who people look up to. To him, being vulnerable is not an option. Being helpless is unthinkable. How could he ever allow someone who saw him in that state live? He may not be able to forget, but he could get rid of any reminders, and also eliminates the idea that people would see Ecco and recognise her as the person who kept him alive, he can’t have anyone on the same level as him, he is alone in his own hierarchy and it must remain that way.

So, that’s pretty much the reasoning behind why I think Jeremiah wanted Ecco dead. Which led me to think how did he manage to pull it off, how did he manage to kill someone who was very smart, a great fighter, and had escaped many dangerous situations before? This leads us back to that sudden switch between Ecco killing the guards and Ecco who is the bait for Barbara. Right, we know that Ecco is more ditzy and less collected when she’s in that state of mind, but examining her behaviour in the scene when she holds the knife to Barbara’s throat, she’s even more off, she’s not focusing on anything, she just seems a lot more relaxed which is such a major difference to how she was in Arkham that it seems too different to be true. I think it is, I think Jeremiah drugged her. He has the access, being in Arkham, and if he asked for it, Ecco would get it for him. I don’t know specifics about medicinal drugs but I imagine that getting something with relaxing properties isn’t exactly uncommon for Arkham, where they need to keep their residents as calm as possible. All he needed to do was get it into her system, Francesca has said that the deleted scene in Arkham involved Jeremiah pulling her into his lap from grabbing her face, kissing her and then carrying her out in his arms. My theory is that he did that as a distraction as he didn’t know how this changing Ecco would react to him trying to inject her, so it would have been easy to inject her when she was distracted and in that close proximity.

Not only would drugging her affect her reflexes, lengthening them and making her more vulnerable to attack, but he also armed her with a knife. We have seen Ecco use a knife before, but we know that she’s much more comfortable with a gun as that is the weapon we see her with the most, and holding someone at gunpoint is going to be a harder situation for the person to get out of, as one movement and bang, you’re dead. With a knife it requires more force and will take longer, even if it is held at the throat. Jeremiah knows Barbara is a skilled fighter, he’s met her twice before and seen her fight, he would have known that she would have been able to disarm a weakened Ecco and stab her. Which is also why he doesn’t make any attempt to restrain her, the only thing stopping her from disarming Ecco is Ecco’s hold on her, which wouldn’t have been that strong if she were drugged and easily distracted. If he really wanted to ensure Ecco’s safety, he could have binded her, or given Ecco a gun, or even shot her in the leg straight away. But he didn’t, and everything worked out like he thought it would. Barbara broke free, Ecco was too slow to fight back, and she was stabbed. Something that would look like an accident to her, but it was completely planned.

(note how Jeremiah waited until after Ecco was disarmed to turn around)

It’s clever, yes it is clever, but it’s the cruellest thing to do to a person that has devoted their entire life to you. Making it so that she was completely defenceless so she didn’t even have a chance to protect herself. This is why I don’t follow the theory that he shot her out of mercy, he shot her to finish the job that he had set out to do a long, long time ago.

[catboymingi]

bittersweet

navi/masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst, fluff; best friends to strangers to enemies to lovers

word count: 7.7k

warnings: self harm, mental illness, suicidal thoughts (though no behaviour described in detail at all), addiction (alcoholism to be precise), language

a/n: this one’s heavy... also this is heavily based on personal experience so don’t come jumping at me for inaccuracies thank u - also the links during the story take you to the same song as the first link, but they have the swedish og lyrics on hover (sorry mobile users)

när jag var liten kändes alltid som att det var du och jag mot skiten / så jag ville att vi skulle göra allt tillsammans / men jag märkte tydligt att du ville nånting annat / behandlade mig sämst / vi var bara ungar - when i was small it always felt like it was you and me against the world / so i wanted us to do everything together / but i noticed clearly that you wanted something else / treated me worst / we were just kids

you had no idea what happened. you’d been so close with mingi ever since you moved, him being the first friend you’d made in the new school, and eight-year-old you really appreciated him. he fought off the bullies for you, he was always there, but suddenly he wasn’t. you were in high school, and everything had been as always, until it wasn’t. until he started avoiding you like you had a deadly and contagious disease, like you’d killed his parents. he hated you and you had no idea why, had no idea why your best friend suddenly decided that some random people he’d barely ever talked to before were a better company than you, who’d been with him through thick and thin for the past decade. saying that you were heartbroken was an understatement.

it took you so long to get back on track after the day mingi had started avoiding you, hating you, but eventually, you managed to do it. you banned all thoughts of him from your head, deleted all messages, pictures, and other traces of him you had on your phone and got rid of all physical memories, too. your parents knew you weren’t okay, and they were so relieved when you asked them if you could set something on fire in the backyard, because it finally seemed like you were getting closer to healing. it had been months, and they’d been worried for your life, but they had no idea how to get your now ex-best friend to reach out to you. they couldn’t call him up and just tell him that he needed to talk to you before you killed yourself, even though they wished they could.

by the time you started university you were almost back to normal, the only outward signs of what you’d gone through being the scars covering your arms and your refusal to drink alcohol, at all. you got obsessed with your major, studying to become a therapist so that you could maybe, hopefully help people feel understood and okay when they were in a similar situation to the one you’d been in. this passion made you the best of your year, acing all exams because every free minute was spent on revising the materials and taking on extra projects and doing all you could to keep yourself busy.

but you weren’t okay, not actually. the worry was still there, the fear, and it was the reason why you hadn’t made a single friend even when the fourth semester of university was almost over already. it was after a particularly hard exam (that of course you’d aced again) that you, for the first time since your other half had left, agreed to go out with someone, a random dude from your course that you’d consequently ignored up to that point who invited you to some maths major’s party.

“it’s gonna be fun, and we deserve some fun after that fucking hell of an exam” was how he had convinced you, and you decided that it couldn’t hurt.

what you didn’t know then yet, however, was that he’d ditch you the second you’d taken off your jacket at the party that same evening, saying that if he’d known that you were a nutcase he’d never have asked you out.

“you’re hot but that’s just not what i wanna put up with.” and that from a psychology major. great.

the evening got worse when you found out whose party this was. you didn’t even know that mingi went to the same uni as you, and he’d obviously moved out of his parents’ house by now, so the address didn’t ring a bell, either. it was first when you saw him that you realised. and everything came crashing down on you again, all the things you’d convinced yourself you were over. and even though you’d promised yourself you’d never touch alcohol again, not even cough medicine including it, you broke that promise now, going straight for the hard liquor. that seemed to impress the horny idiots around you, how you downed it without even flinching, and because you didn’t care about what you should and shouldn’t do right now you let the first one to make a move touch you up and down, making out with you (which had effectively stolen your first kiss from you, but what did it even matter anymore?) and whispering to your ear just how hot you were. you didn’t care for him, but you knew that the one you cared for couldn’t give fewer shits about you. you were tired of being alone, of being hurt, of being lonely, and you just wanted to forget. so you let this dude whose name you didn’t know and didn’t care to know make out with you on the kitchen counter, because by now there was no way your situation could get any worse anymore, anyway.

your lack of interest seemingly didn’t stay hidden to him, though, so at some point he left you with a displeased grunt. it was obvious he’d expected a little more excitement from you, and now he was looking for the next drunk girl he could get to fuck him. you didn’t care. you got some more alcohol, pushing every thought of your parents as far away as you could, because you knew they’d be so disappointed. they’d always cared, but it hadn’t changed anything for you. the one you needed to care didn’t even notice how you were slipping. you’d be surprised if he’d even known that you got hospitalised after graduation.

but now you were here, in his house, and you hated it, hated him, hated yourself. you wanted to get out, to disappear before he’d ever even notice you’d been there in the first place, so you stole a bottle of whatever was closest to you and left the house.

it was embarrassing that you weren’t even drunk yet. you had no idea how much you’d drunk, but you barely felt tipsy. so when the one you wanted to leave you alone the most came outside after you, you had to deal with the emotions that that caused in you entirely sober.

“the fuck do you want?” you hadn’t expected yourself to be able to be angry at him when you’d get to talk to him again. you’d expected yourself to cry, to break down and beg for him to come back, but maybe at least that the alcohol saved you from.

“i want to check up on you. since when do you drink?”

you hated him. you fucking hated him more than anything else you’d ever hated, except for maybe yourself, and you hated that he thought he had the right to check up on you now when he was the reason you were even in this state at all.

“let’s see. i think you last talked to me on the fifteenth of january, two years ago? so it’s gotta be the sixteenth.” maybe it wasn’t fair to confront him with the effects of what he did like this, but it hadn’t been fair of him to leave you hanging like this either. he deserved this, deserved to know what the fuck he’d done to you. that he’d destroyed the happy, passionate, excited you that you’d been, replacing her with a bitter, suicidal bitch with trust issues through the roof.

“why?” he seemed confused, and you wanted to spit in his face. you wanted to punch him. you wanted anything but to have to talk to him.

“take a wild fucking guess.” and with those words you turned on your heel, leaving him with his emotions as you left with the bottle of alcohol that wouldn’t make it to the next morning.

you were slipping again. picked up all the bad habits you’d had, barely getting sleep because you still had to study, were still obsessed with getting the best grades, but now also had unhealthy habits to feed, so there wasn’t a lot of time left for sleep. it didn’t matter, though - why sleep if you’d only have nightmares either way?

luckily you didn’t see mingi again after that night. that was, until he’d somehow figured out your major, your classes, your schedule, and was waiting for you in front of your classroom after your last class for the day. you tried to bolt, but he grabbed your wrist instinctively to keep you from running away. when you yelped out in pain, though, he let go as if he’d just burned himself. until now he hadn’t even noticed what you looked like. but now that he did, it broke his heart.

“what do you want now? want to fuck me up again? because i can do that by myself now, thank you very much.” your voice shot daggers at him, and he looked like a hit puppy. what made this worse was that he knew you were right.

“please talk to me. i brought vodka.” he didn’t intend to give it to you, but you didn’t have to know that. and his weak bribing worked, which only made him feel even more awful. just how fucking hurt did you have to be to talk to him, the guy you very obviously hated, just because he offered you free booze?

“come.” and you did, followed him to a park near uni you knew was notorious for getting fucked or wasted, and you intended to keep up this reputation as you sat down next to him.

“alcohol.” it wasn’t even a question, you just demanded the bottle, but he wasn’t about to comply.

“first you talk to me.”

the angry glare you gave him could have killed him had you kept it up for longer than a couple seconds, but you sighed in frustration and looked away.

“fine then, talk. but this vodka better be damn good.”

he didn’t know how to start, though. ran his hands through his hair and shifted constantly and looked everywhere but at you. but then, finally, he got his shit together.

“what happened to you?” his eyes were fixed on your arms, the arms whose skin was a lot smoother and healthier the last time he’d seen it, and his voice was soft, almost as if he cared. maybe it was because of that that your reply held less sharpness than the past ones had.

“what do you think?” and his heart broke. he didn’t want it to be him, he didn’t want this to be because of him, he didn’t want to be at fault for so much pain and suffering.

“it’s me.” and when you nodded he wished someone’d beat him up, hard and good, just so he’d feel at least some pain as a payback for all the pain he’d caused you.

your voice was surprisingly soft when you continued, and you didn’t even know why yourself.

“it’s nothing big. i just… slipped, i guess. had a really hard time. i don’t even know what happened to make you hate me like that, and that got to me. like, we didn’t argue or anything, so it wasn’t like i had a reason to stop caring about you. it just felt like without you nothing mattered.”

you sounded calm, collected, but voicing it like this brought back all the hurt, and you just really wanted the alcohol now. you grabbed around him in order to retrieve the bottle from his bag, but he caged you in a hug, effectively making you unable to move.

“it’s a big deal. fuck, y/n, look at you. how is this not a big deal? you can’t even talk to me without getting wasted.”

and even though he was right you hated how it sounded like that was your fault, not his. you hated how it sounded like you were weak for this when he had no idea what the fuck you’d been through these past two years. it made you angry.

“and you’re better? straight up ignoring me for however long it took me to get the hint like some pussy instead of talking to me? we used to be best friends, for fuck’s sake!” you tried to hide your heartbrokenness behind this anger, and once more the person who used to always be there to hold you when you needed it let go of you as if you’d burned him. not even now could he man up.

“you know what? fuck this. fuck your vodka and fuck you. don’t fucking talk to me again. as i said, i’m fucking my life up enough without you there to aid in the process.” and you tried to get up, but he grabbed you by your waist, not wanting to hurt you but refusing to let you go in this state when he hadn’t even gotten to talk to you yet. it was selfish, he knew it was, but he wanted to explain himself. he didn’t know if it’d help you, but he needed the closure. he needed you to know why he’d acted like that and then decide if you still wanted to hate him.

“i’m not letting go”, he said as you struggled in his grip, “not until you’ve listened.”

“i don’t fucking want to hear it!” now you were yelling, and it was only because everyone else in this park was too busy or too knocked out to fully comprehend what was happening that he wasn’t getting his ass beat by a stranger coming to your aid.

“you’re going to listen. you know i’m stronger.” this was an asshole move. it was a massive asshole move, using his strength against you to keep you trapped with him. but your state had him throw out any ethical concerns he otherwise would’ve had, instead pulling you into his lap and holding you tightly.

“then fucking talk and get this over with.” your body had gone slack in his arms, because you knew struggling against him wasn’t going to work. your voice still held the same sharpness to it though. you really hated him.

“you act like i didn’t have a reason”, he started quietly, covering your mouth with his hand when you tried to interrupt him. “but i did. the fuck do you think i felt when you kept being better at everything than me? everything was easy for you, you just went with your feeling, and i was doing awful but i kept trying even though it was hard as shit and you didn’t even notice. you went out to meet people and have a good time while i was sitting home alone trying to keep up. you didn’t even care. i told you i couldn’t join and every single time you just said ‘okay, another time then!’. you didn’t notice how much i missed you. and i got sick and tired of being the only one that’s missing their best friend.”

you listened to what he said and couldn’t believe he was serious right now. he completely broke you because you didn’t spend enough time with him?

“what the fuck, mingi. what the fuck. you wrecked me because you were sulky about me not being around 24/7? let go of me right now or i’m going to break your nose, you know i will.” he knew you would, so he did as you told him to, but not without trying to defend himself.

“it wasn’t that, it was that you never even tried to make follow-up plans! you kept going out with other friends, friends that didn’t have to spend all their nights home studying. you just replaced me.”

“and you didn’t think to fucking talk to me about it? i missed you like crazy, you fucking asshole, but i went out with others because i knew you had to study and because i didn’t want to keep you from that. because i dared to care more about your success than about what i wanted. and then you just dumped me, one day to the next, without an explanation, because you thought i didn’t care? does breaking off all other social contacts look like not caring to you? do hospitalisations look like not caring to you? does this”, you motioned to yourself, “look like not caring to you? i knew you were a coward, but back then i thought it was cute. now i just think it’s pathetic.” you all but spat those last words at his face, and he knew you were right. he knew all that now, but back then he’d been so scared of losing you that he forced himself to lose you. fucking idiotic.

“you act like it didn’t hurt me, too.”

“you sure didn’t act like it when you started fucking around with some people you’d never even talked to right after you decided ignoring me was the way to go!” you were crying now, crying and screaming at him, and you despised yourself for the vulnerability you were showing.

“give me the vodka, mingi.” but he didn’t. and when you tried to grab it he took the bag from you, leaving you staring into the air.

“give me the fucking vodka or i’m gonna leave right now and get my own. and then you’re never gonna see me again.”

but instead of handing you the bottle he all but jumped up, wrapping his arms around you tightly and sounding so incredibly desperate that you felt your anger vanish at his next words.

“please don’t- please don’t do that. please don’t kill yourself. hate me, break my nose, whatever, but please don’t go like that. i can’t handle it. i’m nothing without you.”

and it was now that he started crying, tears soaking the fabric on your shoulder, shaking as if there was an earthquake inside of him that would make him fall to shambles any second. you hadn’t even realised that you might have implied what he obviously thought you meant - what you meant was that this time you’d be the one to ignore him, pretending he didn’t even exist. but his reaction to potentially losing you in a whole new way made you think that maybe, he cared.

“i’m not going to kill myself over you, butthead.” and while your words held a similar level of sharpness to them as they had before, your voice was much softer, calmer - you patted his hands that were linked together in front of your stomach to keep you from leaving, trying to comfort him for whatever reason. he didn’t deserve it, and you were still so angry at him, but he’d been your best friend, your other half, and you still didn’t like to see him suffer like this, even though the part in you that wanted him to feel all the pain you’d felt wouldn’t agree.

“i don’t want to lose you again”, he whimpered against your shoulder. “i never want to lose you again.”

“so what’s your plan? i’m never gonna forget what you did, mingi, i’m never gonna forget how as soon as i start getting happy you come back, crashing into my life as if nothing had happened. i’m never going to let anyone hold me back again.”

“i’m not going to hold you back”, he pleadingly spoke into your skin, “i’m not going to message you, i’m not going to ask to meet up, i’m not going to wait in front of your class, nothing. i’ll only be there when you ask me to.”

“and you think that’d help? having me do all the work again, having me beg for your attention again? you think that’s even remotely what i want?” you weren’t angry at him, because it seemed like he was saying this for you, but you were frustrated. he still didn’t seem to understand at all what you wanted from him, what you’d wanted from him ever since he started ignoring you. you wanted him to fight for you, not vice versa.

“then let me fight for you. let me do the work. i’ll do anything, just please give me another chance. one very last chance. and please… stop all this.” you didn’t need to see him to know what he meant.

“that’s not how it works. i can’t just stop like that when i started. and you’re not gonna be able to fix me, if you think that.”

“i know, of course not, but… please try. it’s summer break soon. maybe then you could… i don’t know what you could. do something. i want to be there for you.”

you didn’t want to give in to him. you didn’t want to believe him. you wanted to keep being angry, you wanted to keep hating him, you didn’t want to risk the same kind of heartbreak you’d felt the first time he left. but this was mingi. and even though you refused to admit it even to yourself, you still missed him like crazy.

“let go.” and he did, hesitantly, but he did as you told him to.

“look at me. look me in the eyes and tell me you know what that’s gonna mean. tell me that you’ll be there when i’m in rehab and can’t go places and i’m angry as shit and hate everything and everyone and mainly you because you made me go to that stupid place. tell me you’ll be there when i relapse, not just once but so many times, and that you won’t get angry. tell me that you fucking know what it means, that you know you won’t be a priority, that there’s gonna be days where i won’t want to hear from you at all. tell me that you know you’re gonna have to fight for me, and tell me that you will. and if you can’t tell me that, let me leave right now to spare both of us the pain because it’s just gonna be a waste of time otherwise.”

“i’ll be there. every single day, or like. whenever i’m allowed to, i don’t know how rehab works. and when i can’t be there i’ll call you and text you, even if you hate me. i’ll hold you until you don’t hate me anymore. even if i have to spend the entire day holding you that’s how it is. i don’t fucking care what i’ll have to do, i’ll do it all. i miss you.” with those last words he pulled you into his chest, holding you tightly as he whispered a silent ‘please’ into your hair. and you didn’t want to believe him, didn’t want to get your hopes up, but part of you was still so soft for him. so, even though your mind was screaming at you to tell him to fuck off, your heart won, your heart made you wrap your arms around him and hold on tight.

“if you fuck up i’m breaking your legs.”

“if i fuck up i’m breaking them myself.” he knew this was his last chance. he knew that if he messed up now he’d be losing you forever, and that was a risk he wasn’t willing to take.

his hands were rubbing up and down your back, as gentle as you remembered him to be, while you were standing there and hugging and trying to calm down. you’d missed him so incredibly much and you wished you could stay in that moment forever.

“how are you feeling?” he could feel you were shaking slightly in his arms, though he wasn’t sure why. it could be the cool air, it could be the emotions running through you, it could be something he didn’t even want to think about. but either way he knew you should probably leave.

“it’s all so fucking much. i’m still pissed at you, but i guess i’m also glad that you’re here. and i’m fucking horrified.”

your shaking was most definitely at least partly owed to your emotional state, because it got worse now, you grabbing his t-shirt and clinging on to it for dear life.

“what are you scared of?” he sounded so fucking soft and calm and you wanted to crawl into his shirt and hide there and never leave for the real world ever again. you wanted him to keep you safe and to protect you because life and the things that were coming for you were scarier than you wanted to admit.

“you. rehab. my parents are gonna be so fucking hurt when i have to go back. fuck, i want the vodka.” but to your surprise you didn’t move to get it, you didn’t try to leave mingi’s embrace.

“you’re staying the night at my place”, he informed you, and you looked up at him in surprise.

“this talk was long overdue, but to be honest even i could use some vodka right now. i don’t want to imagine how you’re feeling, but i know i’m not gonna leave you alone in that state. no won’t count.”

“you know you won’t be able to just make me stop like that?”, you asked, wanting to be sure he didn’t have some weird saviour complex that made him think that just because he was there all your problems would suddenly vanish. but he seemed to know, even though he wished that was how it worked.

“not forever, but tonight’s a good start. i just want to be with you right now.” and even though you really wanted to get drunk you wanted to spend the night with mingi more, something that surprised you, especially considering how you’d just told him he wouldn’t be able to make you stop.

“i’m not going back there yet though, so if anything we’ll go to my place”, was the compromise you offered, and he gladly accepted. he held your hand almost the entire way, refusing to not be touching you in some way now that he might get you back, and this was less awkward than having his arm around your shoulders, which he’d tried first.

your apartment was a mess, you knew it was, but instead of judging you the tall male just kicked whatever trash you’d left on the floor out of the way to make his way to your bed, where he intended to spend the rest of the day and the entire night. he wrapped his arms around you as soon as you’d settled next to him, pulling you close like he used to when you were younger.

“i’m so sorry for all this”, he whispered, “so so fucking sorry.” and even though you’d somewhat sorted what had happened in the past, this was the first time he actually apologised. you hadn’t known how much you needed to hear him apologise until he did, whining out slightly as you pressed yourself closer against him. you wanted him to keep talking, keep apologising, keep promising that he wasn’t going to leave. but he was quiet after that, so instead of his comforting words your thoughts filled the silence in your head.

“keep talking before i get up”, you told him, the choice of words making it sound like a threat but the pleading way you said it making it clear that you were all but begging him. and he complied, luckily he complied, because you wouldn’t be able to keep your thoughts away for much longer.

“i missed you every day. it wasn’t fun to sit at lunch without you, or be in class, or do anything, really. i know it’s my fault, but back then i expected you to fight more, and when you just stopped trying after a while i thought i was right, even though you tried to talk to me every day for like two weeks and every single time i just straight up acted like i didn’t even hear you. i have no idea what i expected you to do, actually. sing me a love song in front of my window?” he chuckled a little, though it sounded somewhat bitter.

“i think that’s what i was secretly hoping for, if i’m real. not a love song, maybe, but some kinda confession. but instead of opening my mouth myself i just hoped that you’d get the hint i never even dropped. guess i really am a coward, huh?” he was running a hand through your hair, gently scratching your scalp whenever he dragged his fingers down because back then you’d liked that and he hoped you still did.

“you’re an idiot”, you mumbled, though his somewhat-confession made you feel all weird inside. you’d liked him back then, too, but admittedly he hadn’t been the only coward. and before you’d ever had the chance to gather the courage to confess he’d cut you off.

“i know. i don’t think i’ve ever done anything more stupid than that. and now i’ve wasted my chance and have to live with the fact that i’ll die without ever having gotten to kiss you. it’s my own fault, though.” there was a hint of playful resignation in his tone, as if this confession was more to get it off his chest than it was for him to actually confess to you - as if it hadn’t even occurred to him that you might feel the same way.

“just do it now.”

he hadn’t expected that, surprise apparent when he asked: “can i?”, and you knew you should say no, you shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t be in your bed with mingi so close and telling him to kiss you, but you’d missed him, and you were hurt and happy and desperate, and you just wanted to feel loved. and though this didn’t have to be love, this didn’t have to mean as much as you wanted it to, you could pretend. you wanted to pretend, so you didn’t say ‘no’ as you should, but ‘yes’ as you wanted.

and he did it, leaning in to press his lips against yours but not moving any more until you hadn’t pulled away even after a few seconds. then he actually kissed you, his one thumb stroking your cheek while the other was fondling with some strands of hair at the back of your head. and you knew your breath was gross, still reeking of the alcohol you’d drunk earlier that day, but mingi didn’t care. you were warm and soft against him and you were there and he’d take whatever he could get from you, even if it was vodka breath.

you didn’t want him to pull away, because you feared that once he did your world would come crashing down again and he’d tell you that now his curiosity was stilled and this should remain a one-time thing.

and you feared that you’d been right about this being a one-time thing, because he apologised as soon as he broke the kiss. but he didn’t apologise for what you thought he’d apologise for.

“i shouldn’t have done that. not like this. fuck, i just took advantage of this entire situation, i’m so sorry. fuck. feel free to break my nose.”

“don’t break my heart and i won’t break your bones. deal?” the big smile he gave you was so easy to see even though it was starting to get dark outside now, and you felt a small smile tug at the corners of your own mouth. he was here, and he’d kissed you, and maybe he’d do it again. maybe you’d finally be able to be okay again, actually okay, really okay.

“i promise.” he pulled your head into his chest, resuming to run his fingers through your hair and telling you sweet nothings.

“you’re so beautiful. so kind and so strong, such a fighter. i’m so glad i’m here right now, so grateful you let me, and i’m never going to leave again, ever. i’m here now, and you won’t have to be alone anymore. i’ll try to make it right, all the things i did wrong. i’m sorry. but i’m with you now.”

you were pretty certain he wasn’t even thinking much about what he was saying, just saying anything that was on his mind, as much for you as for himself. but even if it wasn’t for you that he was saying all this, it still helped you, comforted you, gave you some hope. one thing you had to clear up, though.

“we’re not a thing”, you murmured into his chest, though the way you were clinging to him betrayed your words, showed how much you wanted to be. “we’re not a thing because you don’t know anything. you can’t play a video game on easy and then enter the world championship and think you’ll win. i can’t talk to you for a single day and then think it’d work out.”

and mingi got it. he knew that this was a decision that had to be made logically, not based on what he wanted in that moment. but that didn’t mean he was just going to give up like this. he told you he’d fight for you, and he would.

“talk to me more, then. i told you i’m not going to leave.”

“you say that now.” there was sadness in your voice, resignation. “but it’s different when i’m shitfaced. when i’m crying my eyes out because recovery is hard and i don’t want to anymore. when i call you at 3 in the morning begging you to come over and check on me and make sure i’m not dying because i’m scared i went too deep this time. when i tell you i hate you even though you didn’t do shit just because i need someone to take my anger out on. none of this shit is pretty or romantic and the sooner you realise that, the better.”

“i’m going to be there.” he didn’t say more and you were glad about that, because even though you’d been the one to bring all this up you didn’t want to talk about it, you just wanted to be held and comforted and protected. and he did, he held you until you fell asleep, and was still holding you when you woke up the next morning.

//

it was weird to be back with mingi. it was familiar but completely different, and it was hard, as you’d told him it’d be. but he kept his promise, even though it hurt to see you struggle and in pain, he was there when you needed him and he was there when you didn’t. he was there to hold you when you called your parents to tell them you had to go back to rehab, and he was there to calm your nerves the day before you left, force-feeding you snacks to keep your mouth busy because by now he’d learned the signs of when you really craved alcohol and while he learned that the most he could usually do was to make sure you didn’t drink yourself into a coma that night he made sure you didn’t drink at all, because you were going to rehab the next day and he wanted you to have decent starting conditions and he knew you wanted that, too, and a hangover was the worst starting condition you could possibly have. he was there to kiss you that night, because even though you’d been the one to tell him to not try anything until he’d proven he meant it the snacks just didn’t do it and you needed something else in your mouth. he knew it was just your desperation that had made you beg him to please kiss you, but he did, he was there as he’d promised, even when it hurt like this. he was there to hold you when you cried into his chest after, promising you that it would be okay and that he would be right there the entire time and when you got back, too.

he was there the next day when you clung on to his hand with a force that could probably break his fingers sooner or later, horrified of entering the building in front of you. he was there to hold you in place when you tried to bolt as soon as they started the admission process, he was there to tell you that he was so proud of you and to promise you that it would be okay. he was there to call you that night, relieved that you were allowed to, and he was there to talk you through all your fears. he was there a week later, when you were first allowed to get visitors, with a rather big teddy bear wearing one of his shirts and a self-made card that read “one week sober!”, small celebratory drawings all over.

“i wanted to bring a cake, but they don’t do that with people that just started. you’ll get one at the one month mark though, pinky promise.” you linked your pinky with his for maybe two seconds before you threw yourself into his arms, clinging on to him as if your life depended on it.

“please take me home. please just take me home”, pleaded into his shoulder repeatedly, like a mantra, and he held you so tight.

“it’s worth it, my strong little angel, it’s okay. i promise.” he was rubbing up and down your back comfortingly, continuously saying how proud he was until you let go just enough to look into his face and see the warmth in his eyes.

“you’re going to stay right here until they kick you out”, you ordered, though what you were actually doing was begging him to please not leave you alone until he had to. you felt like the odd one out here, the only alcoholic still in their twenties, and their early twenties at that. the only other person roughly your age was a guy with an anxiety disorder that looked at you like you were the filth of the earth, and that didn’t exactly make you want to talk to him. you missed mingi, you missed seeing him, and having to watch the other patients be able to go out and meet people outside the therapy times when in your state you’d have to stay until the staff could be certain you weren’t going to relapse only made it worse.

“they’ll have to drag me out by the ears”, he reassured you, and finally you smiled, a genuine smile that made his heart hurt a little less.

“call this one mingi”, pointing to the teddy bear that had been discarded when you’d flung yourself into his arms, “and pretend he’s me. not as good as the real deal, but at least he’s wearing my t-shirt.”

“butthead.” but you looked at him with, as he hoped, the same feelings he had for you, which showed him that he’d chosen a good gift.

he brought you a small gift whenever he came by, and after bothering the nurses continuously (which resulted in them begging the staff in charge of your unit to please let him get his way) he was allowed to bring you food, though only in sealed packages which they checked closely for both the ingredients and even the slightest chance of him having managed to put alcohol in. it was somewhat of a hassle, but the way your expression brightened when he brought you your favourite cereal from when you were 12 and which you’d stopped eating by age 15 because it was ‘for children’ was definitely worth it. things still weren’t easy, especially with how cut off you felt from the outside world, and there had been several nights where you’d screamed at mingi on the phone about how much you hated him for having caused all this and then being cut off by the nurses because your phone time was over before you’d had a chance to tell him that you were sorry for screaming like this, but he never got upset with you for that. instead, he texted you an apology to see after dinner, along with telling you how proud he was. and he stayed, as he’d promised you.

your one month of sobriety was the day you were discharged, because you’d been doing surprisingly well and because you’d managed to convince your responsible treatment team that you’d do better if you didn’t feel so alone and cut off, if you had the chance to do things rather than sit in the hospital all day and overthink your situation. you had an outpatient treatment plan and when you’d told mingi about being dismissed he kindly but sternly told you that he’d kick your ass into next monday if you didn’t follow it. and now he was here, picking you up both from the facility and from the ground, twirling you around as soon as you were in his arms. you’d agreed that you’d spend the first few days at his place, so that’s where he brought you now.

the tall male carried the few things you had with you into his flat while you stood next to the car, taking a little while to get used to the thought of being a part of the outside world again. you were glad mingi was there, because while you were so happy to be out it was still scary to know that now it was up to you alone whether you relapsed or not.

you were delighted to see that he’d kept his promise about the one month mark-cake, because while it wasn’t exactly pretty you soon found out that it made up for that in taste, and also because it was so sweet and thoughtful. it seemed like he’d prepared a little party for you, with one of those silly ‘welcome home’ banners hanging in the living room and colourful plastic cups on the table, next to various kinds of juice and soda. you had no idea how, but he’d even managed to organise strawberry soda, something that you hadn’t seen in stores in ages.

“butthead.” you didn’t know how else to react to all this. it was so much, so unnecessarily much that you didn’t know whether to cry with happiness or to smack him because this probably took a lot of time and money. you decided that calling him butthead again would be a good compromise.

“angel”, he grinned at you, entirely unbothered by your (admittedly weak) insult. then his expression turned serious, walking over to stand right next to you with a few long steps before he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug.

“i’m so glad you’re back, you know that? i missed you like crazy.”

“i missed you too. don’t let go.”

he wasn’t planning on doing that anyway. he’d be so stupid if he did. and he’d be so stupid if he didn’t tell you how he felt.

“i love you. i love you i love you i love you. now break my nose for being a butthead.”

“be my butthead and i’ll consider leaving your bones intact.” you tried to play it cool, but your heart was beating so hard you feared it would jump out of your chest, and this time you could be 100% sure that it wasn’t withdrawals. it was just mingi, the boy who’d kept his promise to be there, the boy who’d helped you piece yourself back together in some way again. the boy who wanted to be with you even though the way you’d pieced yourself back together was so far from who he’d known before you shattered. it was mingi, the boy whom you loved back.

“so the b in bf stands for butthead? that’s what you’re saying?” he was teasing you, just a little, but it was okay because you could tell he was just nervous and scared that he might have misunderstood you and was trying to mask that through his joke.

“or maybe it stands for big beautiful boyfriend, you decide.”

“i’ll take the boyfriend! i’ll take the boyfriend. please let me be your boyfriend.” looking at you pleadingly, though also somewhat excited, and you knew you’d never let him go again.

“then you’re my big beautiful boyfriend. what am i?” 

you were expecting him to joke, but he didn’t. he was entirely serious when he said: “you’re my world.”

and this seriousness overwhelmed you just a little bit, so that you were left speechless. and he continued.

“you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen. you’re my strong little angel.”

“you’re not supposed to be so sweet, i don’t know how to handle it”, you whined out, but he just smiled down at you, taking in every detail of your face.

“get used to it.” you knew you wouldn’t ever get used to it, you knew you wouldn’t ever get enough of him telling you sweet things like that. maybe you’d get better at reacting over time, though. but since right now you were very much not good at reacting yet, you said something that maybe wasn’t the most appropriate reaction to his sweet-talking you.

“you know i still hate you though, right?” even though your voice gave away that you didn’t, far from.

“makes for a great enemies to lovers storyline”, he teased, smiling down at you with entire galaxies in his eyes.

“just kiss me, butthead.”

it didn’t take more than a few seconds before he did. he kissed you slowly, because you had all the time in the world, thumb tracing all your features while your hands were wrapped around his neck. and while your first kisses had been bitter with alcohol and desperation, this one was sweet with cake and love.

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.19

a/n: so... uhh... nothing much happens here but the last part is worth it :’) i guess? hope ya’ll like this nonetheless! 

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 20

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​  @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

Two days since that fated encounter with Chronostasis, you were now left with a vacant rest day. And where better place to spend it than with Dr. Hanayaka. Setting an appointment with him, as he liked to call it, you were tasked to help with the blood pressure for each patient he had. Luckily, his schedule wasn’t that straining.

“So you mean to say, his henchman met with you in secret?” Gei asked and raised an eyebrow. With his stethoscope resting on his shoulder and white coat on, it was sometimes hard to believe that this flamboyant man was a well respected doctor. “And handed you trash man’s sim card?”

“Yeah. I’ve already checked the contents of the sim and there’s not a lot to go on.” Aside from your messages, the contents of his inbox were that of an average man’s. Expecting some tea about his trade or even important numbers of other villains, you had to think whether or not Chrono deleted some or not.

“And what about that plan of yours, hmm?” Gei fixed his eyelashes before staring back at you. “What if it backfires and Chrono takes the blame?”

“He won’t. My instructions were clear and I set a time frame as well. Just something to please the heroes for setting me up.”

“You movin over to the dark side, baby girl?”

“Just balancing things out.” You shrugged. “Levi made it clear that they shouldn’t interfere with my relationship with Overhaul. Even though I’m on justice’s side, I still want to tip the scales a bit due to personal reasons.”

“Wouldn’t your badge and title be removed if they found out? And why in Todrick’s name are you so chill with this topic?! Are you certain you don’t have a bug on you?” Your friend eyed you down so quickly. Worried that policemen might end up barging inside his office.

“Don’t worry. I’m wearing new clothes so there’s no way they can. Besides, I’m being as cautious as ever. Seriousness aside, I do have some information you might want to feast on.” You smirked at the mental image of a maskless Chrono.

“Spill…” Gei shifted in his seat and leaned in closer. The look on your face only meant one thing.

“Okay, so Overhaul’s right hand man was the one who met me right? Well~ He took off his mask and I will have to admit the man looked hella fine~”

“Describe! Describe!”

“For starters, he has bluish-gray eyes. Though he looks like he wants to kill a person right there and then, he probably could since his jaw was rather prominent. His voice without the mask is different too.” You watched as Gei listened with such focus. “But, if I were to be honest, describing him doesn’t do him good. He looks really handsome.”

“Why is it always the villains who look good?” Gei commented with a pout. “Hawks aside, because that man is something else, but they just hit different you know?”

“That’s true. Shame they have to wear those masks, though.”

“On the contrary, I think it’s good that they do. Otherwise they’d have to endure the wrath of fan girls.”

“Right. Also feels good when they trust you enough to show what’s behind the mask.” Nodding at your own statement, the memory of having lunch with Overhaul came back. With no given warning, he took off his mask and casually drank water. Realizing that he had done it on purpose, a tiny smile formed on your mouth.

“If you miss him that bad, just call him.”

“He changed numbers and I’m not that desperate to ask Chrono for it. Nao said in due time he’ll contact me but the chances of that are negative.”

“Honey, it’s the modern era. Women aren’t as shy as they were before. If you want something, go and get it. If it is a guy’s new number, then go ahead. It’s not just men who make the first move. And besides, I think Overhoe would be surprised if you just suddenly ring his doorbell.”

“You do realize, I do not have the same confidence as you.”

“Fake it till you make it, boo.” He snapped his fingers in a z-formation.

“You’ve been watching Soopernatural again, haven’t you?”

“Okay, first off, Jenred Padackles is a god and I would worship his feet. Second, that show has references to everything and you can’t deny that.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Standing up from the sofa, you stretched your limbs. “Anyway, I gotta scram.”

“Where you headin’ off to missy?”

“I have to meet up with Nao regarding the Fukuo Kai case.”

“But it’s your day off. Get a life and do something else other than work, (n/n).” Gei threw a pen to your direction but you dodged it effortlessly. “Don’t make me tell your father.”

“It’s only for a few minutes. It’s in preparation for tomorrow.” Not bothering to wait, you exited the room and sofly closed the doors to his office. Time spent with Gei was always an eye opener. However, it still wasn’t enough for you to stoop so low and ring his doorbell.

Making your way out of the hospital, you took a quick stop to the vending machines and chose a cold cafe au lait. Perfect for the hot and humid weather Japan had to offer. Feeling the cold liquid running down your throat was amazing and within seconds, you downed the whole drink. Tossing the empty bottle to the recycle bin, a gust of wind caused you to lose balance.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“I have a meeting to attend to Hawks.” Hawks took his visors off and ruffled his wings. Offering to buy him a drink, he chose a tetra pack of  apple juice. Walking to the vacant bench, you followed him and decided that perhaps his visit would be worth it. “So what did the bird hear today?”

“Twice and Toga Himiko.”

“League of-” Then it hit you. “I see. Since when?”

“Yesterday. One of my informants saw them entering the base and left late at night. They didn’t look too happy about it, though.” Lowering his headphones, he ruffled his hair and stared at the clear blue skies. “Do what you will with this information. Just thought I’d let you know.”

“How and why do you even bother?”

“I work for the HPSC dove. If I don’t want them getting in my head, I gotta kick their crotches first.”

“That’s not the best analogy.”

“Still works though.” He winked and put on his headphones and visors back. Standing up, he offered a hand and you accepted it. Tailing you, Hawks was now opening the door for your car. “And one more thing, another of my birdies caught the scent of the quirk erasing bullets nearing its completion stages. Probably 80% now.”

“That’s fast.” You had to admit.

“Heard he’s been pissed. Be careful baby bird.” Hawks closed your door and saluted before flying off.

80%? That was enough information to speed up the Shie Hassaikai raid. Reaching out for your bag, you took the burner phone you recently purchased and reread each message the both of you exchanged. With two League of Villains now part of the yakuza, the possibility of casualties was much higher now.

Within minutes, you were now on the road. Fingers tightly wrapping the steering wheel. Your thumb bouncing with growing guilt at choosing to hide what Hawks had just said. Of course this wasn’t to ensure his victory, it was to even the field, right? It was the pettiness taking over you and Nighteye going against his words. It had to be.

Turning towards the precinct, you saw your designated parking area. The basement parking was a bit crowded today.

Heading towards the meeting room Tsukauchi had prepared for the small info sharing, you greeted fellow coworkers and kept conversation till you disappeared around the corner. Not too long after, you were now fiddling with your fingers. Basking in the silence till the doors opened revealing your partner and Shinezu. Both men took their seats and commenced the meeting.

“So, Shinezu will be tagging along.” He nodded at your coworker who seemed to be trembling at the thought. “It’ll do you good, Shinez. Trust me.”

“I-I know, Tsukau-kun.” He adjusted his tie, loosening it a bit. “I just think I’m not cut out for this mission you know? I do better behind the scenes.”

“While I believe that’s true, the 4th division works best when you’re around.”

“That’s true.” You agreed. Shinezu may not be the most social cookie out there but his brain was close to Namase. He also had the knack of coming up with solutions when things went wrong. All he needed was to amp his social skills. “We all know the 4th division leader is weak for you.”

“Not t-true.”

“All too true. You’ll be fine, Shinez. Have I ever lied to you?”

When the raven-haired man finally nodded his head, Tsukauchi cleared his throat and relayed the plans for tomorrow. It was the standard undercover data gathering in your books.

“So, to recap, the 4th division will be handling the snooping and we’ll remain on guard should all else fail?” You repeated the information given. Tsukauchi scratched his chin and nodded. Confirming that you had fully understood his message. “All this should happen within 5 hours. Got it. That’s quite cramped but manageable.”

“5 hours was the only allotted time I could fit in.” He scratched his nape and looked away. “You were right when I had to take it slow with my cases.”

“I’m not one to comment~” Waving the conversation aside, you stood up and the others followed.

With the short meeting now over, Tsukauchi and you were now seated in the break room. Cups of coffee present as you exchanged more information about your days and current mission. For a brief moment, despite him not being a part of the Shie Hassaikai Raid, you wanted to pour every single information you had just gained from Hawks. The lingering guilt was much more present now.

“You’re spacing out.” He snapped his fingers in front of you. “You alright?”

“Aside from the growing problem of trashman, I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Taking a sip from your coffee, the usual taste of bitterness was strong today. “Nothing to worry about~”

“You should go home, (n/n). I already took up a portion of your time. Any more and I might drown from embarrassment.”

“That’s gross. Even coming from you.” Kicking him from under the table, the two of you laughed before chugging the remaining drops of coffee. “I will take that offer though. Need me some beauty sleep before shit happens again. See ya!”

Hours had passed and you were now stuffing your face with chips. He was right when he said you had purchased too much but you weren’t complaining. The movie playing now was one of your favorites, Prisoner. Gake Jyllenhall was divine in this movie. It was always the twist of the movie that kept you watching it over and over again.

“I wonder if we had watched this… would the wall pinning  happen?” You thought out loud. Shaking your thoughts away from him, you stopped the movie and stored the chips.

Now that you were settled in bed, Overhaul’s jacket rested on top of you. By now, his scent had disappeared and was now replaced by yours. Grabbing your phone, you opened the messaging app and clicked on a certain conversation. Rereading his messages was not the best idea but at least you would be able to relive whatever memories you had created.

Glancing at your desk calendar, in just two months time, you would meet him again. Would things still be the same? Or would things go back to the way they were? Tucking your phone under the unused pillow, you willed yourself to sleep and surprisingly succeeded.

Waking up not so refreshed happened again. But, nothing out of the ordinary. Not being a morning person, you dragged your body away from the bed and began the necessary clothes. Deciding to just buy breakfast, it took you less than an hour to lock your doors and head over to the parking lot.

Making your way up the steps, you met up with Shinezu.

“You look like shit, Shinez.” You teased him. “Take a chill pill.”

“I already did. But it’s still not working. This would be the first case in a while where I’ll interact with others.” Leading the way, the both of you were now walking through the empty hallways. The sounds of your footsteps muffled by the cheap carpeted floors. “How do you guys even manage to survive situations like these?”

“By taking it one step at a time~” Not the best advice for someone who’s socially challenged but it is what it is.

Opening the doors for you, the both of you entered the room and took your designated seats. A bunch of people from the 4th division were now present. Tsukauchi had not yet arrived but it was still early so it was excusable. Exchanging a few small talk, you caught up with what the 4th division was up to till the doors finally opened.

“Good morning everyone.” Tsukauchi greeted. Feet glued to his spot. His eyesight focused on you. “Before we head out, we have a special guest joining us.”

“Holy shit.” Shinezu uttered under his breath.

- - - - -

a/n: shits bout to go down again! I would like to take this time to thank each one of you who take the time to read this! Unpredictable was supposedly a 10 chapter story but we bout to reach 20 now! i cant really respond to your comments as much but i read all of ‘em and they always make my day :’) my schedule has just been very hectic these days huhu and yeas that ends my rant~ see ya’ll next week! :* and yes, the waiting list is still open :)

[samd1o1]

Recently I watched The Super Mario Bros. Movie (1993) for the first time!

And man...

I LOVED IT!

While I loved every part of the movie, I want to focus on my absolute favorite characters in the movie: The Super Koopa Cousins! (Iggy and Spike)

SPOILER WARNING!!!

(I WILL BE TALKING ABOUT THE ENTIRE MOVIE)

In this movie Iggy is the cousin of Bowser, not his kid.

I assume this also implies the other Koopalings are adults? They definitely exist based on this amazing, 10/10 deleted line:

R.I.P Larry

(I’m going to headcanon the Koopalings are still siblings in this movie) but I’m getting off topic!

Spike has been upgraded from random goon, to Bowser’s cousin as well!

Iggy and Spike are also cousins, but they seem to have a brotherly relationship.

Now while I think some characters were more accurately portrayed (personality wise) than others I think Iggy was the best. (Can’t say much for Spike because at the time he was really just pixels in the games)

At the beginning of the movie, Iggy and Spike were idiots. They’d do dumb things like run into glass and kidnap the wrong girl over and over.

But later into the movie Bowser evolves them to become smarter.

I believe this fits Iggy well because in the games he is an evil genius.

Another thing that works is that in the movie Iggy and Spike betray Bowser. Now while Hip and Hop (Lemmy and Iggy) never betrayed Bowser much in the cartoons, their other siblings definitely had a habit of this!

Last but not least, while Lemmy may not have been present in this movie, we did get Spike. IMO Iggy seems to work best with someone to bounce off of, and Spike fills that role here.

They fill the role of the comic relief in this movie, and man they do great! They start off with dumb jokes like them not knowing basic stuff, but then after being evolved their humor is more witty with words.

Now that’s all great...

But I do have a few problems with the movie.

Now I understand that Iggy and Spike aren’t the main characters, but that doesn’t excuse the inconsistency issues present with their character archs.

Shortly after Iggy and Spike get evolved they go after Mario and Luigi, but they can’t seem to control the sand buggy? So are they smart or not? Anyway they team up with Mario and Luigi just to get the Crystal, but are still working for Bowser.

There is a deleted scene of them in the garbage truck talking about the posters of Bowser all over the city.

They were campaign posters trying to get you to vote for Bowser.

But as Iggy and Spike pointed out, you could only vote for Bowser.

This showed that Iggy and Spike knew how tyrant this was.

Unfortunately this scene was probably deleted because it bad mouthed democracy.

Next we get to the Boom Boom Bar.

In the final cut of the film Iggy and Spike are sitting at the bar and just randomly blurt they’re gonna turn on Bowser.

Now it’s obvious they do this because they’re smart now, but it was still very random...

But there is an amazing deleted scene that explains this.

Iggy and Spike start having a conversation about how they live their lives working for Bowser, this then turns into a political rap where they plan to take down Bowser.

Again this was probably deleted because of politics, but they could have at least kept the scene at the beginning of the Boom Boom Bar sequence where Mario basically tells Spike to get rid of Bowser themselves.

Now pretty much everything else made it in that needed to for awhile until

Their random exit?

Iggy and Spike take Daisy to her father and then shortly after just kinda disappear?

Even with the deleted scene I’m about to share, it was still kinda weird, but hey the movie was already an hour forty, with fifteen minutes of filmed deleted scenes.

So in the deleted scene we skip all the way to right after Bowser’s demise. Everyone in the city is celebrating! We get to see a bunch of characters from the movie come together. This includes Iggy and Spike.

They tell each other they did good work, implying they orchestrated this whole thing, but then they talk about needing a new job.

It is speculated that Iggy and Spike were going to take over Dinohattan and that is part of the reason Daisy comes to see Mario and Luigi.

But as we all know the movie bombed and I’m never gonna get that sequel am I? :(

Anyway I hope you enjoyed me just randomly talking about Iggy and Spike for god knows how long.

I feel they are just really underrated characters from an already underrated movie.

I also feel they weren’t given justice in the film with all the scenes of theirs that got cut, but oh well, at least they’re available on YouTube!

Speaking of which, here is the link:

All Iggy And Spike Deleted Scenes: https://youtu.be/o7RwNzDa3no]

Before I go, please support the channel linked above! They are working to restore these and other deleted scenes (available on their YouTube) for a new blu ray release! So if you want all the issues I presented to be fixed, this is your chance!

[thedudewiththedragontattoos]

Genetically Correct Clean Template Strangetown With Scripted Events - CC FREE

I’m back with another genetically correct hood! You can check out my GC version of Pleasantview with scripted events here - I also explain what genetically correct means there as well in case you aren’t sure :)

Today as part of my quest to make all Sims 2 hoods genetically correct, I bring you Strangetown!

More pics, info, and download links below the cut :)

General Information:

This is a genetically correct version of Strangetown. All sim appearances have been corrected so they now resemble their ancestors! This hood was built on top of clean templates, and no other changes have been made to the hood aside from the adjustments to the sim’s appearances and DNA!

Notice: I used a mod, equal genetics while creating these sims. I do not claim to be anything but a simpleton when it comes to genetics, and I know that some of these sims’ genetics aren’t realistic - Like a blond and brunette having a blond kid. I don’t claim to know anything about genetics, so before you genetic purists come at me just know - I know this and don’t care.

My general notion was that if one of their ancestors had a gene, then they could too.

Notes:

- This is CC FREE

- I used a default skin and eyes when taking the pictures. The sims will not come with these. I used Pitstop Skinblend and Poppet Clear Eyes

- All sims have been given recessive genetics - and I will say here and now they may not make actual sense scientifically speaking, once more - I don’t care about that. 98% of the sims - even the ancestors - have recessive genes. At the very end of the post you will find a chart of each sim and their recessive genes.

- Sims may get some wants or fears of their ancestors or dead relatives becoming zombies or resurrected, this is just because of the way I did this, their deaths are fresh in the playables minds.

- This hood was built on a clean template Strangetown, all ancestors and dead sims are safe to resurrect

- This was made with Ultimate Collection, so unfortunately you will need this or all packs for this to work.

- Pascal’s unborn baby will be genetically correct as well

- When you add the subhood version with townies, you’ll notice that the townie and NPC names get randomized and aren’t their original names. Though annoying, this is normal and you will have to rename them all yourself.

- The no townie version of ST STILL comes with Bella Goth, Crystal Vu, Abhijeet Cho and Meredith Lillard. 

- I used two different clean template versions for this hood. There may be slight differences depending on what the original creators of the clean templates did to the hood. See credits.

- Bella Goth is also genetically correct with her PV ancestors

- Some sims such as Ophelia Nigmos and Kristen Loste had no ancestors with the original hairs, skins and/or eyes they have in the BG hood. Because of this, I chose the next best hair/eyes/skins that I felt brought more genetic diversity to the hood and kept the original feel of the sim

Important notice about Scripted Events:

If you are having issues with the Scripted Events: FIRST - Navigate to your "Documents/EA Games/The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection (or The Sims 2)/Neighborhoods" and delete the NeighborhoodManager.package file within this folder. Reload your game. When you load the game back up it will automatically regenerate a new, fresh NeighborhoodManager.package file - See if this fixes the scripted event problem. For some reason it can break really easily and a majority of the time resetting this file will do the trick. HUGE thanks to Cindy from PleasantSims for suggesting this! All credit to her! SECOND - If the first suggestion doesn't work, you will need to redownload the hood, and BEFORE you run your game, take out all of your non essential mods (leave in mods like no unlink on delete, no townie regen, things that are essential) from your mods folder (just mods, cc is fine to stay in) and put it in a safe folder while you just play through the SE - then when they're done, put the mods back in. 99.9999% of the time either of these suggestions will fix the problem. If you try both and they don't work, let me know

More Pics:

Link to imgur album of most sims + ancestors

Link to imgur album of all families

With all that out of the way, let’s get to downloading!

Download Instructions:

This comes in 4 versions:

GC Main Hood Strangetown with Townies

GC Main Hood Strangetown without Townies

GC Subhood (Shopping district) Strangetown with Townies

GC Subhood (Shopping district) Strangetown without Townies

Download the version you want.

For Main Hoods, place the folder in the following location:

Ultimate Collection:

Documents\EA Games\The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection\Neighborhoods

Disk Version:

Documents\EA Games\The Sims 2\Neighborhoods

For Subhoods, place the folder in the following location:

Ultimate Collection:

Program Files\Origin Games\The Sims 2 Ultimate Collection\Best of Business\EP3\TSData\Res\NeighborhoodTemplate

Disk Version:

:\Program Files\EA GAMES\The Sims 2 Open for Business\TSData\Res\NeighborhoodTemplate

CREDITS:

Meetmetotheriver for the clean templates without townies

Dorsal Axe for the clean templates with townies

Download:

Genetically Correct & Clean Strangetown WITH townies

Genetically Correct & Clean Strangetown WITHOUT townies (Still includes Bella, Crystal, Abhijeet, and Meredith)

Let me know if you run into any issues, and as always, have fun!

Take care,

Mike

P.S.

As promised, below are all of the recessive genetics of the sims in the hood in case you get a baby and go “Where the f did that come from?!”. The parts that say N/A are if the recessive is the same as their dominant :)

Yes, I misspelled Kristen’s name lol

[yutaya]

Iron Fist Rewatch: 1x03: Rolling Thunder Cannon Punch

That's so terrifying. You look an entitled asshole in the eyes and say "no" when he tries to pressure you into doing something morally corrupt that would actively hurt another person - one who has specifically asked you for help - and then armed home invaders break in in the middle of the night. Ward is basically the mafia boss that Colleen has just pissed off, from her POV. No wonder she hates him.

Wow, now I want the fanfic where Colleen keeps calling Ward a mafia boss to his face. "Just because I'm under your mafia family's protection NOW doesn't make that time you put out a hit on me any better, mobster." "'Mob-' I never put out any 'hit'. I'm not the mafia." "You don't need to bother with pretence here, mob guy." (Danny helpfully does not point out that Ward definitely put out a hit on him, but the entire room is still painfully aware.)

Danny: Sorry the people trying to kill me broke your lock.

Colleen doesn't for one second find it out of the question that the cops might be in on the whole "corrupt rich white man is doing shady illegal things and trying to have a 'problem' 'fixed'" thing. Danny does, ("I haven't broken any law?") because Danny spent ten years as a rich white boy and then the next 15 in a culture completely separated from the rest of the world's reality. Or: Danny, a rich white boy, trusts the police. Colleen, who tries to make her dojo a safe space for a bunch of underprivileged majority bipoc kids living in the "bad part of town", does not.

Possibly the reason they speedrun us through Ward going up to the penthouse again is to remind the viewers how obnoxious it is to get up there before we see Danny climb the building later?

I forgot about this freaky tube thing. What is that? High tech coffin? lol. There's an implied "you should be unsettled by this" vibe to Harold's whole "it's so peaceful in here, I can't help but doze off" but when I don't know what the tube is the context is kind of lost on me.

Again with Ward calmly asking for an explanation about such a seemingly insane business choice, especially one that he's going to have to explain to people, and Harold brushing him off. Infuriating. And let's just toss in a sprinkling of "Joy has always been and always will be better than you, who can't do anything."

Harold: "Doesn't it occur to you that I'm doing this all for you?" Me: "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP I HATE YOU." He doesn't even just say "I'm doing this for you." No, he has to say "Doesn't it occur to you that I'm doing this for you?" Rather than simply lying, he just has to back Ward into that corner. Ugh. UGH.

Ward: closes his eyes, long huff of breath. I should start a count of how many times he does this.

MY SKIN IS CRAWLING. Freaking Harold. Ugh ugh ugh he's the worst.

Danny you realize you're both disrespecting Colleen AND talking about pretty sensitive subject matter right in front of her student?

Joy: "We need to do the right thing." Me: "You keep telling yourself you're a person who cares about that, Joy."

Joy used to do Ward's homework for him????

Like, what?

Seriously, what?

Was this supposed to be a cute exchange? Because my Asian American upbringing says it's NOT.

Joy: "In another life, this would have been romantic." Danny: "Gross, you're my sister."

"You and Ward, you're the only link to a life that I had. It kept me going under very difficult circumstances." ;___;

Joy talking about clinging to her dreams of Harold meeting her after school and holding her hand and smiling at her in her grief after he died is making me so miserable. To Joy, Harold means comfort.

Danny: *Starts talking about ghosts* Joy: Oh right, he's crazy.

Colleen: "You dishonor yourself when you fight for money."

Jeri, who has literally been mind-controlled, almost got murdered slowly and painfully, and brought a killer to her wife,

Young intern Jeri Hogarth calling the boss's secretary a "hatchet faced bitch" and then bribing said boss's 10yrs or younger kid not to tell is. Well. It sure is a thing.

I still want Danny inviting Jeri to Defenders friend group hangouts and Foggy and Marci both blanching. Jessica and Jeri can snark at each other and Danny can be like "You're friends too! I didn't know!! :D"

Honestly, I would have watched a whole show on the intricacies of classism issues, with the Elite like Jeri and the Meachums teaching Danny how to live and maneuver in that world and Colleen and the dojo and Big Al teaching Danny about the reality of life for the lower class, and our golden-hearted Danny in the center of it, consistently determined to do what's Right,

Joy: lol, isn't this such a fun, teasing, sibling-banter thing we do, me joking about how I'm going to close this deal and you would only endanger it?

Harold: punches trainer full in the face, then casually suggests weapons next time while the guy is still groaning on the ground

Is Gao terrorizing Harold and making him kneel on glass supposed to make me feel for Harold? No one deserves this but that doesn't make Harold magically not a monster.

Danny.... just taking over lecturing the class is not respectful to Darryl or Colleen either.

Danny: "What kind of soldier training is this? They're acting like kids!" Colleen: "That's the POINT! I am not training them to be soldiers, I am creating a safe space for them to be kids when they usually can't be in the rest of their lives." Danny's warped K'un Lun upbringing really shows here. It's heartbreaking to remember that Colleen isn't just some good samaritan either - that she was raised in a cult too and has her own warped upbringing viewpoints.

A line I need to appear in a Ward/Misty/Claire pov fic: "Colleen tends to seem normal because most of the time she's next to Danny. It's easy to forget that actually, she's completely batshit."

Colleen keeps throwing Danny out for bringing trouble to her doorstep and then not really fighting it when he sticks around anyway (Which: Danny. Danny, this is problematic behavior, Danny.) - it's when he becomes a danger to her students that she gets serious about it. Even if Danny wouldn't physically harm them again, he is now a drain on their mental health: he represents a potential danger, a reason to be constantly on guard, and a removal of their safe space.

Ward clearly has no idea what the heck Joy is doing. It's all very troubling and this family is so messed up.

The way Ward ever so slightly shakes his head at Joy as she bribes Patel with his nephew's actual life.

The blanket into snow is a great transition shot

Joy feels like Ward refuses to tell her things the same way Harold refuses to tell Ward things! But Ward doesn't actually have the ability to tell Joy anything because he doesn't know anything! Ugh!!

On Joy's desk: a photo of her and Ward toasting at some party. She also has a copy on her shelf at home.

Joy poured her blood sweat and tears into Rand. She's proud of it. To Ward, it's a prison.

Wait so their plan is that there's no record that Danny Rand ever existed? Like, besides. The city's collective memory? People know about Danny Rand, guys. You need to delete the ability to connect this adult man to Danny Rand, not young Danny's entire paper trail. I mean, anything linking them would be included in literally everything about Danny but still. Seems unnecessary and suspicious?? I know nothing about crime.

Jeri casually constantly reminding Danny that the Meachums are the corrupt villains of this story must be really messing with Danny's head. Not that she's wrong. Poor boy.

"Isn't it obvious!? I'm not your sister. He's not your brother. We don't want you here." brb crying forever

I have to appreciate that this fight moderator is actually trying to run a semi-safe tight ship behind the showmanship

"Cut the Floyd Mayweather shit." Floyd Mayweather: a former professional boxer, competed from 1996-2015. Often referred to as the best defensive boxer in history, as well as the most accurate puncher. Nicknamed "Pretty Boy" by his amateur teammates because his defensive technique left him with relatively few scars.

That whole Randy biting Colleen (breaking the rules about going too far laid out at the start of the fight) and then her climbing on top of him to keep on punching after he's down was really framed like one of those troubling "the hero loses control and it's bad" type scenes.

I am very curious about Jeri and the Meachums' history. Jeri and Ward snark at each other so much in this meeting. And they definitely seem amused while doing so. Also Joy was like "Hogarth" at Ward earlier, and Jeri described their relationship as "complicated" to Danny.

Ward slumps down in his seat so he's lower than anyone else in the room, despite probably being the tallest. This is probably meant as a show of dismissiveness: Danny's case is so insignificant that he doesn't need to respect them by sitting up straight - but it IS interesting, from a power dynamics in staging perspective.

Ward, who has a constant escape plan of stealing from his employees and running away with Joy, plus was literally talking about leaving and starting over with nothing earlier in this same episode: "It could have been easy. You could have taken the money and had a great life."

The elevator level can be controlled by the lobby man???

Another picture of presumably child Joy on Harold's desk, as a toddler this time. How many does he have?? This is cruel set dressing.

Harold playing on Ward's loyalty again. "I need you to help me. I don't have anyone else."

[psychicprincesscreation]

NUANCE

Edit 7 (7/12): I didn't realize I kept breaking the link when I was trying to come up with a good title lol my bad.

Last two titles: "I'm not your bass-slut anymore." (That didn't exactly fit the narrative.)

"Don't fuck your idols. :)"

Since everyone is talking about accountability, let me put it succinctly: I was 22, this was consensual for me, I was a "groupie" who knowingly emotionally cheated on my then-bf with Bassnectar for months, I broke it off & moved out because I expected more from the relationship than I ever got.

As one person on IG stated: I was just a groupie whose fantasy didn't go the way I wanted it to. Lol it's true, but that isn't the whole story.

I know it's easy to focus on how I was "old enough to know better" and the harmful choices that I made, but don't forget that Bassnectar actively pursued me even after finding out about my boyfriend -- I'm sure he wouldn't have had any problem finding a single girl to talk to instead, given his stature.

He offered me concert tickets, plane tickets, money to buy an apartment, he told me to email him as often as possible, he told me to keep everything a secret and to lie to my boyfriend over and over.

He tried to "save" me with controlling advice about eating, sleeping, not partying (ironic, considering that he is a DJ) not pursuing music journalism, not hanging out with any male friends whatsoever, where I "should" work. This was all before we ever met in person.

People don't realize how hard it is to say no to your idols, especially when they are CONSTANTLY offering gifts that I considered very extravagant at my age.

This wasn't a normal affair; I had absolutely nothing to offer Bassnectar but myself, yet he spoke to me like I was a star. He told me we could "go deep" and that he wanted to "mate" with me.

Of course my dumbass young-adult drug-addled mind is going to fall in love with the idea of him.

CONSENT IS NOT DEFINITIVE. I didn't consent to a relationship as two normal people sneaking around. I became a cheating asshole who was misled by a rich & famous liar. I never said what I did was right -- in fact, I made it very clear that I did something wrong, too.

I also said that my story is NOT as bad as the other accusers'. I absolutely do NOT think that I had it worse than anyone else. I think my story is important because it shows that his behavior wasn't limited to people underage.

Hopefully my candor denotes honesty and by admitting my faults in this situation, people can see that Bassnectar's emotional manipulation was real and calculated, and most certainly did not start or end with me.

Side note: Apparently Bassnectar DOES cuddle... I guess he just didn't want to cuddle me that night. Ouch! :)

Edit 6 (7/12): Too many typos to fix so I'm just leaving them now lol. Added detail.

Edit 5 (7/12): Just because I say I'm slutty and I like sluts, doesn't mean every girl/women who was involved with Bassnectar is a slut. I'm just owning that label to change MY narrative for MYSELF. I really don't think there's anything wrong with being slutty -- it's always the rest of the world that has a problem.

I wrote this stream-of-consciousness, so I wanted to mention that sometimes my statements that involve other women may seem brusque, but I'm on the women's side. I mean to convey disdain for the way Bassnectar treated us (as a secret "harem",) rather than jealousy or annoyance toward the women. I hope it comes off that way, but I don't know who is reading this and how some might interpret my words.

Edit 4 (7/10):

Removed names. A story mentioned in this post wasn’t true. Either just a lie (to make someone look bad,) or I don’t remember it properly ‘cause it’s been so long. If it was my fault: my bad. 

Edit 3 (7/7): 

FIXED SOME TYPOS! 

Edit 2 (7/7):

I like sluts. Stop making us feel bad for wanting love *and sex, too. 

Another thought: Bassnectar probably pursued a relationship with me because I had a boyfriend. Therefore, I would be more secretive and would have to take some of the responsibility and guilt in this situation, too. And that is true. I do feel guilty about the lying and sneaking. I think that it was inevitable that I would break up with my then-boyfriend, but it really wasn’t Bassnectar’s place to accelerate the break-up by giving me the impression that Bassnectar would be my boyfriend instead. This wasn’t friendly advice given to me by someone older, this was tactical. It makes me wonder if a lot of girls/women don’t want to come forward because they are afraid that the truth will come out about their own affairs? 

Don’t be afraid to tell your story because women-hating assholes try to dissect and expose your secrets in an attempt to discredit you! Bassnectar is the one who needs to be exposed for HIS indiscretions -- this is about what HE did wrong.  Edit 1 (7/7): 

- Bassnectar told me that he was coming to NYC and because we had an online relationship, I thought that he was coming to see me. My friend told me today that Gov Ball 2013 was the same weekend, so I think he may have actually been in NYC for that reason (I don’t think he was scheduled to play on the flyer,) but I was delusional about it.  - I removed the screenshot of his phone number from the post because I don’t want to violate any doxx rules. I am still willing to compare this phone number with other women/accusers to corroborate our stories. :)  - This is my story told from my perspective. I was an adult and I’m not posting this with the intent of legal action, or revenge (although I do admit that this relationship was devastating and heartbreaking for me.) I just want people to know what kind of person he is. - My story is not as harrowing as some of the other accusers’, but that doesn’t make it invalid. - Even now, reliving everything hurts me and I wish I could say that it was real, but now that I’m older I am wise enough to know that it was all lies. - I stand with the women who Bassnectar has hurt in similar, or worse, ways.  

----

My relationship was short-lived, but it was so eventful for me that I remember it clearly. I'm mentioning many minuscule details because I think that could help prove the validity of other victims' stories.

Writing in bullet points because it's easier for me to sort through the memories. I'm calling him Bassnectar because the "Lorin" I was talking to is someone that I feel hurt and appalled by now.

• I don't have social media/email screenshots because I deactivated my Facebook and Twitter years ago. Bassnectar asked me specifically to delete our emails because his "girlfriend had caught him" and asked me to get rid of the evidence because she was "demolished." (I will go into a bit more detail about that later on.)  • I don’t have a “smoking gun” that skeptics are looking for, but that’s what happens when someone asks you to keep everything a secret and delete everything that shows you were communicating.

----

• This happened in 2013 over many months, plus Bassnectar texted me a few times about once a year after our "relationship" ended. • I was 22 at the time. I'm from NYC and frequently went to clubs, shows, events, and festivals with my then-boyfriend (who I lived with) & the same group of friends. • Bassnectar was one of our favorite artists and we'd seen him perform several times in several states. • My friends had a private Facebook group where we'd tell each other about shows and make arrangements to travel/meet up/stay over each other's places. ��� I was very interested in music journalism at the time and occasionally wrote show reviews for my friend's online music magazine. • I actively used Twitter. I basically tweeted at every DJ we liked, and always posted reply screenshots in our private Facebook group to share with my friends. • Things became complicated with my then-boyfriend, but we still lived together. We had recently gotten back together around the first time Bassnectar DM'd me on Twitter.

• Bassnectar responded to a Twitter pic I posted of our mini-fridge with a Bassnectar logo sticker and said that he "liked my fridge" or something. • I screenshotted this and posted it in my group because he was the biggest artist who had responded to me at that point. • I thought I could use this as an opportunity to interview him for my friend's mag. • After I already posted the screenshot in my group and had responded to his DM, he sent another message asking me not to screenshot him because he "hates that." • I deleted the screenshot from the friend Facebook group. I stopped screenshotting and sharing our conversations with my FB group immediately after he asked. • I continued to chat with Bassnectar via Twitter and said that I was a big fan of his merch and that I bought several things at all the shows I've attended. • I asked to interview him at some point in the conversation, and he skirted over the request.  • Instead, he gave me his email (bassnectar2012) and asked me to send him merchandise ideas. • I slapped together a few simple, quick ideas on Photoshop or something and sent them to him.

(I don’t know how to embed a picture on Tumblr lol -- will update.)  • You can see that the image I sent is no big deal, and all the files were similar, but he responded as if they were the greatest things he had ever seen. He definitely made me feel special and talented. • We emailed regularly and relatively frequently for days. • Emails are exchanged back-and-forth and eventually I asked to interview him again and he agreed. • I gave him my number and he called me. My then-boyfriend was aware that I was in contact with Bassnectar, with my original intention of interviewing him. • My then-bf was in the room when Bassnectar called me for the first time. • Bassnectar didn't want to be interviewed; he wanted to get to know me. I agreed to just chat at first. • He told me not to call him Bassnectar because that was his "band" and that I should call him Lorin. • At some point he asked if I had a boyfriend and I told him no, even though things were complicated with my then-bf and we were technically together.       > I know I'm going to be chastised for doing this, but I've learned years ago that I made a bad choice. Honestly, I still wanted an interview, and I am well-known for leading with my sexuality. This is when I started becoming deceitful with my then-partner. Simply put, I was just more enticed by the idea of advancing my career, and eventually the allure of potentially being Bassnectar's girlfriend, so lying seemed best. Just because I’m flawed, too, doesn’t mean Bassnectar did nothing wrong. 

• My then-bf confronted me about not saying that we were together. I felt guilty and the next time I spoke to Bassnectar, I confessed that I was back together with my then-boyfriend and I wasn't single. (I don't remember if it was via text or voice call.) • Bassnectar was upset that I lied, but continued to talk to me nonetheless through text and email.

• He made me feel like my writing was profound and touching, and that we were falling in love. • He would tell me that he wanted to "bring me the sun," or "get me a puppy." He said things that were romantic and poetic and I felt heartened to respond to what I thought was love. • He said he had $10,000 in his mattress and he wanted to get me an apartment in NYC, so I didn't have to live with my then-bf anymore. • He would text me before and sometimes immediately after he played shows then say he was going to sleep by like 12am (typically.) It was easy to keep up with where he was playing via social media.  • He offered to fly me to his show in Red Rocks so I could attend. (I didn't accept.)

• He called me from time-to-time and told me not to tell my then-bf who I was speaking to. • One day he had me call a different phone number, which he said was his "home phone." • He told me a story about a beautiful girl named (removed)? Who he had a falling out with because she mentioned that Bassnectar told her that he didn't like Steve Aoki. (I don't remember that story in detail -- I think he was telling me so I wouldn't tell other people when he talked about other artists.) > Edit (7/10): This person messaged me to say that’s not what actually what happened between them. • One day I was speaking to Bassnectar on the phone and didn't answer when my then-bf called on his way home from college classes (I always answered right away.) He asked who I was speaking to and I admitted "Lorin."

• When I called Bassnectar back, he became annoyed that I told the truth and said that I should tell my then-bf that I meant my girlfriend Lauren instead. • I began to sneak around more, lie more often about who I was speaking to on the phone, and texted or emailed Bassnectar almost every single day. • He said we should skip Camp Bisco 2013 and just spend time together. (Obviously anyone who attended Camp Bisco knows that didn't actually happen lol.) • He was flirtatious, charming, and always offered me tickets to events, or sometimes to fly me to where he was. I didn't accept any of this then.

• He told me that I shouldn't do any drugs, not even smoke weed. All of my friends were casually experimenting back then, and I was equally as candid as I am now about everything I did. He told me not to do drugs at his shows, or any shows, and especially not around guy friends. • Me and my friends traveled to see a show in Philly and stayed with friends. When I texted saying I was mostly with guys (my friend group was mostly guys at the time,) he asked if I "felt safe" and offered to get me a hotel. I thought it was unusual because I always felt very protected by my male friends. • He told me that I shouldn't hang out with guy friends, or have guy friends at all. • He told me that guy friends all wanted to sleep with me and I didn't realize it. • He told me I should eat healthier and exercise regularly -- it was very weird and controlling. He just didn’t want me to be myself.  • He told me that he had a girlfriend who had two abortions. I think because we were talking about relationships?  • He told me that he grew up in a hippie commune and was Christian and he questioned his priest and that his mom was a poet laureate. It just seemed like he wanted me to get to know him at the time. • He told me I was co-dependent with my boyfriend and that I needed to become independent and move out. • He told me I should make lists of my life goals as an independent person and email it to him. • He told me not to tell anyone about us talking. I told all of my girl friends, but it was a "girl code" situation and none of the guys or my then-bf knew what was going on. • We talked A LOT and often, but all of this only happened in a matter of months.

• Time passes and our emotional affair eventually becomes physically intimate when he says that he is going to fly to NYC. This is JUNE 2013! He played at Electric Zoo 2013, but that wasn't until Labor Day, so I'm not sure why he really needed to go to NYC, but it definitely wasn't for a show because me and my friends would have been there. > NOTE (7/7): My friend read this and mentioned that Gov Ball 2013 was the weekend before, so there is a good chance that Bassnectar was already in NYC for some reason and didn't actually come to see me personally like I was led to believe. lol.

• He alleged that he would see me again around Labor Day when he came back for EZoo, too.

• I am from Staten Island, and wasn't totally familiar with Manhattan's layout at the time, but I think that the hotel he was staying at was in Midtown. It's been 7 years since this happened, but I tried my damnedest today to figure out exactly which hotel it was -- there are soo many in that area alone.  • If Bassnectar says any of this isn't true, then he's lying because there will definitely be a plane ticket or something with his name on it to NYC in JUNE 2013. > NOTE (7/7): I thought he was there to see me specifically, so the dates he told me was staying in NYC are probably not 100% accurate, but there is definitely some proof somewhere on his end that he came to NYC for whatever reason. The lies he told me are just coverup to make me lose credibility if this ever came out. 

• He said he had a hotel for three days. I think it was a Mon-Wed? I took off work those days so I could see him everyday that he said he would be in NYC. If he has no record of checking into a hotel around the time I'm citing, then his manager probably did it for him. I believe his name is Carlos. (I'm going by the memory of what Bassnectar told me.)

• Bassnectar met me in person at the Staten Island Ferry (Manhattan side) and we walked to Battery Park and sat on a bench and talked. • I felt extremely shy and awkward because I knew that by meeting up in-person, I had given up with my now-ex. The whole thing was conflicting and unfair to so many people, but it was too late now. • Bassnectar frequently complimented me in person. He said things like, he was dying to smell my neck, that he loved my wrists because they were delicate like a bird's frame.  • He said that he felt self-conscious that he would be recognized because he's used to being recognized in crowds. • He would pet and caress me, but didn't try to kiss me in public. • He told me that he got his hair washed at a hair salon and he gave the hair dresser a ($50 or $100?) tip and looked in the window to see her reaction and she was crying because she was so happy.  • He convinced me to go back to his hotel. We took a cab there. It didn't take that long, which is why I'm convinced it was Midtown. He never told me which hotel it was, but I didn't realize it was actually because he didn't want a trail back to him. I guess it worked.

(I'm about to get very detailed about my memories, so trigger warning for making people feel uncomfortable.)

• When we got to his hotel, he became physical with me very quickly, but he said he wouldn't kiss me first. That I had to do it first. So I did. • It progressed into kissing, cuddling, him touching me all over in bed with our clothes on. He dirty-talked a lot. I also remember that he moaned and grunted a lot, and I wasn't used to any of that. • At one point, I untied his hair and let it down and he joked that I was making sure he was really Bassnectar and not his assistant that I was meeting. • He told me about his go-go dancer friend who had fake boobs. I can't remember why. • I remember him kissing me against the wall, and he said something like, I want to fuck you against the wall and hold you up with only my dick. It was way too specific to forget. (It didn't happen, though.) • We inevitably had full-on sex after the on/off touching/kissing/talking. • He said he didn't want to wear a condom at first, but he thought he should. We did, but it felt like a test to see what I would say. • I remember that he wanted me to have an orgasm, and I instructed him which position worked best for me. • He orgasmed by having sex with me from behind and asked me to look back at him. I remember him draping his long hair over my back. How could I forget that? -_- • One of my girl friends texted me ("How are you plants doing?" was our code phrase) to check in and make sure I was okay because she knew where I was. It was monumental for me, so I told her it was great. • I sat on his lap while he looked at his laptop. • We had these deep conversations about life, and love, and the future and it seemed so real to me at the time. • I remember that I told him I was unsure if we could be boyfriend/girlfriend because he was so much older than me (I think he was 35 at the time?) • He told me about about a girl he loved named X who was also around my age. I didn't think it was that weird because I was convinced he still really liked me best, but he probably had so many "Xs" and I was just another one. • At some point, he commented on Facebook (or Twitter?) in response to someone saying he was Illuminati. Honestly, it was like we were two people hanging out because of how normal everything felt after the sexual tension was gone. 

• I remember having dinner with him at the restaurant across the street and talking about wanting to be a writer and he said I CAN'T WRITE ABOUT HIM EVER. (So it wasn't normal after all.)

• I remember, back at the hotel, he asked me perverted questions like, can you show me how you make yourself orgasm? He asked me to just demonstrate on his hand so he knew what to do next time. • I don't remember much more because I wasn't planning to stay. • My other girl friend had a job interview that day and we decided to meet at the ferry to take it home together. • On my way out, he walked me to the elevator and he gave me $50 to take a cab to the ferry and to use for a cab when I came back to see him tomorrow. (For my fellow New Yorkers who doubt this story, no, that wasn't enough fare for both trips, so the amount is definitely the truth lol.)

• I went to see Bassnectar again the next day. When I asked him for the hotel address or name, he wouldn't give it to me directly. He said it was because of people stalking him or something. I don't fucking know but it was obvious confusing bullshit and I think he gave me an address that was about a block away. I think he even said he would tell the cab driver the address over the phone. There was a lot of runaround to avoid saying the exact address. (Now the reason why seems obvious.)  • My details are a bit fuzzy at this point because I remember meeting him outside the hotel and going up together, but I forget why we met outside and why we were both confused about which street the other person was standing on. • We went up to the hotel room, he worked on music on his laptop, while I sat on his lap and read Trainspotting on my Kindle. • He let me listen to what he was working on, but I don't remember it. I just remember that he was working with female vocals. • He told me he had to meet his guy friend in Williamsburg because his friend was making him lobster. Looking back, it was probably another girl.

• I asked to stay because I wanted to spend more time with him. I texted my now-ex-bf (who I still lived with) that I was staying with my friend. • Bassnectar said that normally he would say no, but for some reason he agreed and left me in the room with the room key and all his stuff. He either really trusted me, or really trusted how much control he had over me to leave me with his laptop. • I left at one point to get pizza, and came back. I watched TV, but couldn't sleep. He got back some hours later and he was drunk off wine, but I just wanted to cuddle and sleep. • He jokingly thanked me for not stealing his things. • Apparently Bassnectar DOESN'T cuddle and made that a point, but he did sleep in bed with me for a bit, before moving to the other bed in the middle of the night. (There were two beds in this hotel room.) • For anyone else who had sleepovers with Bassnectar, you know that he sleeps with his own fans for the white noise. So we slept in separate beds with his own personal fans on. It was all very bizarre. • We didn't have sex this day at all.

• The next morning I went to Duane Reade while he was still sleeping so I could get toiletries and shower since the sleepover was impromptu. • He had a meeting with someone (manager?) who was supposedly coming to stay in the room later that evening? (It was probably another girl though? idk)

• When he got back, he made me go over the list of accomplishments and goals he asked me to email to him. • He told me that I shouldn't be worried about finding someone to be in love with and it should be a lower priority on my list. • He told me that I should get a job at a restaurant or American Apparel or something and get a shitty starter apartment with only girls. • He said that finding an apartment that was pet-friendly shouldn't be a priority at all. I had a pet cat so if I moved out, that meant I would have to leave my cat behind, but that didn't matter to him. • He told me that if I wanted a serious boyfriend, I shouldn't let him see my legs or have sex with him for a long time. • When he finished life-coaching me, we watched a movie together. • He chose Spring Breakers because he was supposedly asked to do the musical score for it and turned it down (that's what he told me.) • At one point in the movie, Vanessa Hudgens jokingly gestures to her friends that she's giving a blowjob, and Bassnectar said he "didn't understand why girls sucked dick." • We had sex once more, more quickly than the first time and with much less romance. I can't remember much because I just remember feeling sad about leaving soon and like he was blowing me off suddenly. • We took a shower together after.

• I packed up my stuff and before I left he gave me $1000 in cash without warning and told me I could use it to help put a down payment for an apartment or something, but I should pay him back because it would be "good for me."    > Looking back, when he left for a short while that    morning, it was probably to take out cash to give    me when I left. • He didn't walk me to the elevator this time and he sat on his laptop while I left feeling very cheap, stupid, and crushed.

• Time passes and we talk less and less. I'm heartbroken, but still make moves to find a job and move out of my ex's ASAP. • I email Bassnectar a diatribe saying I'm feeling hurt and abandoned. I say that I felt betrayed that he made me think we were essentially going to be together after I left my boyfriend and it turned out to be all lies. • I'm having lunch with friends when he calls me and is angry saying that he told me what I should do to make my life better and that he can't just give me a job or do anything for me and that I need to do things for myself. • My friends walk over to the car where I'm on the phone and when I say I'm ready to go, he asks who I'm speaking to and I say, "my friends." • He yells at me and asks why I'm talking to him on the phone when my friends are around (he asked if he could call and I said it was okay, I didn't know we were supposed to be alone.) I tell him I will call him back. • I text him and ask to call back and his mood flipped and he's suddenly super kind and apologetic and tells me he just wants me to be independent. He reminds me that I'M the one who told HIM that he was too old for me and we can't be boyfriend and girlfriend. • I am heartbroken all over again, but I move on with my life and move out within the next month or so.

> I actually did get a waitressing job as per his suggestion and saved money from that + the grocery store I already worked at and moved to BK by August 2013. I didn't use the money he gave me at first because I thought it was a reason for us to see each other again, and I was afraid to spend it in case I couldn't earn enough to pay him back by the time I saw him. (I never saw him again, though.) > In case you're wondering, I did spend it eventually when I started to resent him for blowing me off.

• I speak to Bassnectar very rarely, and only via text. He doesn't call anymore, even when I ask. • One day while I'm at work, he sends me a video of a beach he's supposedly vacationing at. • When we DO speak, he asks for nudes, usually. • When I send them, he says he feels guilty since “he has a girlfriend” and that we should stop. • Contact is so infrequent, when we catch up about my life, he gets annoyed if I mention I'm seeing any guys, but I never think he really cares because he stopped caring about me a long time ago. (If he ever did at all.)

• I still tried for months to maintain any kind of relationship with him because I truly thought we had something special, but he was always too busy for me. It fucking sucked because he was always in the back of my mind now that I was *~independent~* like he said he wanted me to be so many times.

• One random day when I was too busy to chat with him, I remember he actually DID call me because he said he lost a sound file and wanted me to record myself saying "I really like it." A few times to use on a track. I guess I took too long to get back bc 15 mins later, he texted to say he got it from someone else. I couldn't do it anyway because I was dealing with some other personal stuff. I forgot about it soon after. • I didn't listen to the album NSVB for a long time after it came out bc I was still hurt, but when I did.... I heard that fucking sound bite in whatever song it's on (I really don't care to know) and it fucked me up. • I was conflicted thinking, shit, did I blow my last chance for "us" ? I was still hung up on this asshole as if he were just some ex because of that emotional manipulation. • Would that have solidified what we supposedly had? Or would that have just been another way he used me? I began to resent him.

• Fast forward a few months and I'm drunk with my girl friend at home and text Bassnectar for the lols. I say that I should ask him for tickets to BASSLIGHTS 2013 in VA to make up for him being such an asshole. • Surprisingly he agrees on the condition that I only go with girl friends, don't do any drugs, and say that the Tix are left for me because I interviewed him. (Don't forget that no interview ever happened!)

• Before Basslights, he texts me and even asks me what songs he should play and I don't realize he's just stringing me along. Presumably it was just another plot to hook up. • Before we leave for VA, my friend who is driving admits that one of her OTHER friends secretly knows Bassnectar so we might be able to get into some party or backstage. Sooooo I guess she was another one of his "harem" that he was having a secret relationship with. (I don't mean anything negative towards that girl/woman, just that Bassnectar probably saw us this way and was playing *at least* the two of us at this time.) • My friends and I drive from NYC to VA and miss Bassnectar's set the first night because we arrived late, but the Tix were waiting for me at the box office. • If you get Bassnectar's guest list for Basslights 2013, my real name is on there. I'm sure a lot of other girls he manipulated are on there, too. • Bassnectar texts me and asks what I think of the show and I say I missed it. • He says he was thinking of me a lot during the show. • He texts me saying I should let him "vroom vroom in my girl power." Obviously he's alluding to sex, and I show the text to the friend who was at my place when I asked him for the Tix. He won't send a cab to get me at my hotel when I say sure, though, because he "has a girlfriend" again and he would feel bad. Maybe he was annoyed that I missed his set, maybe he picked someone else, maybe he actually was with his gf? Whatever. • I told him I didn't feel comfortable texting like that anymore because he said he had a gf. • He tells me I'm a good person.

• I am so hurt that I don't answer his texts at all anymore. • We go to Basslights night 2 and I get suuuuper fucked up with my friends (because fuck him) and have an awesome time and disassociate Bassnectar from his controlling bullshit. • I ignore him all the way back to NYC and just text to say I'm home. • He sends me an URGENT text saying that his gf suddenly found out about his gross infidelity and begs me to please delete all of our emails and texts. • I'm stupid and kind and fucking over him so I do it. He knew I would because he knew I was too nice of a person not to. • Bye bye evidence, though. :(  I regret deleting those emails even now because I knew this misconduct shit would come out eventually with him.

• LOTS OF TIME PASSES. Now and again, Bassnectar would text me just to say what's up and I'd barely respond. This only happened approximately once a year. • I'm pretty sure this was just to make sure he was on my good side and there wasn't a chance that I was going to expose him. • I think the last time he texted me first was all the way back in 2016.

• The last few times we spoke were when he had a cancer scare and I texted to say sorry. • When I went to Moonrise Festival, I asked if we could meet and he blew me off. It's been so long, I didn't really expect him to say yes, but it was worth a try. • When me and my friends went to Electric Zoo and he closed, I texted him saying that we couldn't hear well from where we stood and left early. I think he was offended because he replied saying that no one else complained. • The last time I spoke to him, I knew he was playing at an event near me and asked for tickets again so I could see him and he said he would be with his girlfriend. It was a one-off thing and I thought it was worth the try. •There were no cordial conversations in-between the times I contacted him at all. Just me being lonely and single and still hanging on to this idyllic version of him that never fucking existed in the first place. 

• I'm much older now and I know that a lot of this happened because of choices I made, but I was 22, starstruck, in a confusing relationship, partying, and desperate for an ethereal love that I sought in that music scene.

• I bet Bassnectar specifically targeted girls like me because (at least in my case) I was depressed, pumped full of mind-altering chemicals, pretty, and lonely. He acted like I was a unique, artistic, lost soul and he made me believe that he was the only one who could save me.

• At 22, you don't realize that a man 13+ years older than you shouldn't be asking you to keep your conversations a secret from everyone, asking you for nudes, asking you to lie to/break up with your boyfriend, inviting you to hotels, offering you gifts, and straight up giving you cash that you didn't ask for.

• But that man DEFINITELY knows he's doing something wrong, otherwise he wouldn't be sharing that hush money with you, or asking you to hide and delete everything.

• Because he would text me once in a while saying something like, "You cross my mind all the time," it would be enough for me to hang on to this hope that *maybe* there was still a chance. I couldn't see that it was just another manipulation tactic that worked well on me because I was still feeling the effect of the emotional annihilation from so long ago. :(

• I loathe how he made me feel for so long and it breaks my heart to know that there are so many other girls who were taken advantage of in worse ways by this egotistical LIAR in his position of power. Seriously, Bassnectar, fuck you.

ALSO: not sure if this was his burner phone or what, but here are the last two digits of the # he always contacted me with (sent in the DM). If any other victims want to corroborate by comparing numbers... Let me know.

(I REMOVED THE SCREENSHOT OF THE PHONE NUMBER IN CASE IT VIOLATES ANY DOX RULES, BUT I CAN SEND IT TO YOU DIRECTLY IF YOU ARE CONTACT WITH ME!) :)

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