#listen I think about the prison dimension a lot if you couldn’t tell

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: dismemberment / ]

I think a lot about how Leo’s rescue could have easily ended in him losing a leg as the portal snaps shut on the Krang still clutching the limb, or, alternatively, only having Leo’s right arm make it out, still held dearly in his brother’s hand as the rest of Leo is left behind. (The latter hits even harder, as it directly parallels his future self in the worst of ways.)

I think a lot about how so many things could have gone wrong during the course of the movie with even a little bit of a change, but it really is harrowing how much of a coin-flip the entirety of the Prison Dimension rescue was.

[garbagesimp]

LEONARDO

Gets EXTREMELY ANGRY when someone (other than donnie) calls him Nardo. it’s a twin thing. get over it.

on a same but slightly different note: leo never yells. like he “yells” when he’s excited or in the middle of the fight but he NEVER gets hot-angry. he only gets cold-angry and uses the extra energy it generates to just dig at the other person. like he starts digging a hole, hands them the shovel, says “get to it asshole” and they dig their own graves.

scarily persuasive. could coax nuclear codes out of a brainwashed, lizard being, warcrime committing government official and get away with it.

transmasc with a sprinkle of extremely gay. whenever i see someone go “leo is straight >>:[[[[[” i think “have they ever even?? watched rottmnt????” cause like other iterations? totally, yeah, mans straight as fuck (or transfem but we’re not here for that rn) THIS VERSION THO? have you seen the way he stands??

splinter doesn’t play favorites but if he did it would be leo because he reminds splinter the most of himself. which also gets him the title of least favorite, but that happens with everyone. splinter ain’t special.

is. terrifyingly good at reading body language. can tell you’re lying before you even lie. is part of the reason he’s so good at getting under peoples’ skin

toxic trait #1: intentionally pokes at insecurities!! like that scene in the movie where leo pretends to not be listening when raph is spilling his damn heart out?? THAT’S A COMMON OCCURANCE. he mostly does it when he’s frustrated with how little his family trusts him. major soft spot for him. so of course he lashes out, cause that’s how the Hamato family roll.

(minor tangent: the fact that so many 2012/rise crossovers focus on how dysfunctional the 2012 fam are while glorifying and praising the rise fam just like. completely ignore the negative traits, especially with raph and leo? like mikey too, but they completely disregard raph’s lack of trust in his brothers and leo’s shitty communication skills. i have more to say about this but i’ll do that in a different post)

to the people who write fics or draw comics or even just CLAIM that leo spend days/months in the prison dimension: first of all how dare you make me feel things second of all i can only justify this alternative telling of events if leo loses his right leg or his left arm. yes it has to be one of those two specifically, if you know you know.

toxic trait #2: is actually Just That Cocky. is it partially a defense mechanism? yup. does he actually think he is god? YUP.

not explicitly amoral but would do A Lot for the sake of his brothers. like Raph and Donnie take it further than Leo would, but people would die.

became the medic of the group because of his idolization of Raph. got his first medkit when he was around eight or nine, but starting researching when he was seven. raph Really Really wanted to help patch up his brothers but his “clumsy hands” couldn’t manage the precision work his dad could do, but because of Splinter’s terrible vision (it’s a rat thing) he struggled to do it on his own. hence Leo stepping in, because Donnie was usually the one getting hurt (and also hates the smell and look of blood) and Mikey was still like, really young.

is probably chaotic neutral? might be chaotic good. i struggle with alignments but i think it works.

[kathystheoriesandmore]

IM BACK WITH MORE!

(WARNING! Please don't read unless you are okay with spoilers to Wilbur's recent stream. I will be talking about that so if you don't want spoilers, don't read.) A long time ago, I made a theory that Dreamsmp was all a dream. It was a stupid theory and I still stand to it that Dream theories are the worst. Especially when they are proven right.

Im so glad, that I was wrong and right at the same time. Cuz now I can say this with confidence… I KNOW WHY HALF OF THE CAST CAN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you don’t know, it’s been strangely clear that more than half of the Dreamsmp cast can’t remember their past. I know it could be because they were lazy and didn’t want to get into it. But it really messed with me. The only people who we truly know the past of is Philza, Eryn, and now, Wilbur. And yes you can argue we know the background of Fundy since he was born there, and slime since we know the lore of how slimes are made. But even then they still have a lot missing with plot holes. Even the kids of other members don’t make sense. As if they aren’t really family but think they are.

So recently, before this stream was made, I came up with the idea of dimension backrooms. It was for dreamsmp but for a fic idea. An AU of sorts, The idea was that the Dreamsmp is like a prison. You can join but can’t leave. Sucking the memories from you, and the story plot was Drista saved everyone by going through their memories and slowly sending them back to their true world.

A cool AU until this stream… which now makes me think it's canon.

You see, with Wilbur being “teleported” back to Utah… This could mean the dreamsmp, is actually a dimension prison. Kind of like the backrooms. And with the whitelist, it could be that DreamXD is choosing random people to fall into his horror story. And Wilbur was the first person to ever escape it. (Unless we want to count Ranboo but he is for another theory day. I have a lot to unpack with that)

If this is the case, that Wilbur escaped the alt-reality. That leaves us with two questions. 1. How did Wilbur find out that it was an alt-reality when we can tell when you are there, you forget your past? And 2. Why didn’t he bring Tommy along?

Well, the answer for both could be closer than we think. For starters, Wilbur died and was dead for a long time. He learned during that time when the world was going to end. What if when there, he also learned some other stuff, like that the world is not truly his. That he is meant to be back in our world. It could explain why he is the only one who was able to escape.

But that still leaves the question of why he left Tommy. To which I answer that I only have some ideas of why. It could be that he can’t say or DreamXD will hear and stop their plans, it could be that Tommy can’t leave because he is what is keeping Dream trapped, or it could be Wilbur realizing Tommy is not from his dimension and if Tommy tries to leave too, he won't be with Wilbur, he will be back in his own world. Away from him. So he would rather have a chance to see Tommy again if he gets trapped again, Instead of losing the chance to see Tommy ever again. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Either or, This lore opens so many more doors to so many answers we need for the lore. I have so many plans to talk about Ranboo and maybe being another who escaped before, and the idea that Ranboo tried saving Tubbo but couldn’t, there are just so many possibilities. And I will be here for all of them!

Thank you for listening to my rambles, if you ever want to talk theories my DMs are always open, and I will see you later, Have a wonderful day/night!

[kravkalackin]

For a long time, there was nothing. Just sitting, trapped in that umbrella, in that cave, listening to the echoes of waves off in the distance. 

And then there was a rumbling, something far enough off that she couldn’t hope to tell the source, or maybe it was a minor earthquake. She didn’t know, but she did know that one minute, she was sitting as she had been for some countless amount of time inside that black curtained prison. 

And the next, a rock had fallen, with a stroke of luck and a strange stitch of fate crushing both the remains of her corpse and the umbrella it was holding. 

And Lup was free. 

She laughed, as ecstatic, giddy, nervous thing as she let fire flair up around her just to feel it again. Feelings weren’t the same as a lich as a person, but she could still feel her power, could feel the warmth from her magic. She only let herself indulge in it a moment though, quickly focusing up on what she needed to do. 

She had no idea how long she’d been gone for. She needed to find her family. 

That turned out harder than expected. She couldn’t find the Starblaster. It wasn’t anywhere she searched, and she couldn’t track it with magic for some reason either. She would think (fear, dread) that somehow it had managed to leave without her, but that wasn’t possible. Even trapped in a pocket dimension she would have been taken as well, that wasn’t it. 

Well, she could ask the others what happened to the ship when she found them. She needed to find Taako, Barry and everyone else would be with him, and if not he would know where to find them. He would know what was going on. He would be looking for her. 

The search was hard, because apparently he didn’t have any of his shit oh him she could just cast locate object on. No, it was hard, until very suddenly it wasn’t. Until suddenly she was hearing about a cooking show and seeing a tacky flier for ‘Sizzle It Up With Taako’ 

Odd, but she knew better than anyone what her brother was like. How he would indulge in these phases, transforming himself for a while before tossing the whole thing away like an old outfit. The surfer year on the beach, his pseudo-philosophy stunt, and now apparently a whole cooking show. At least it made sense this time. 

She caught him between shows, alone thankfully. He was outside of the caravan, stretching with a look Lup knew meant he’d just woken up. She didn’t waste any time, divebombing right for him. 

“Taako!” she shouted, because fuck it, after however long in that umbrella she missed her brother. He jolted, passing through her arms as she tried to hug him, which was about what she expected. 

“Holy fuck!” he snapped, clearly startled. She expected him to quickly realize what was up, and to either start berating her for worrying them all or start freaking out at her already being a lich. 

 But that wasn’t what happened. 

“What the- what the fuck?” he asked, taking a step back from her, but Lup didn’t notice the fear on his face. She just dived forward again, this time managed to grab his arms as much as her spectral form could. 

“Shit it took a while to find you! Is this really the time to be going off on your own doing a weird food cart business thing? I mean, it looks good, nice marketing, but a little inconvenient. Where are the others? How long have I been gone?” she asked, and it was starting to become concerning how long he was just... staring at her. 

“I don’t... what?” he asked, and Lup didn’t have a proper face anymore, but she still felt like she was frowning at that. 

“How long Taako? I didn’t- however long it was I didn’t mean to disappear like that. I just, I had to do something, and it backfired. But I’m back now so just tell me, was it a month? Two months?” she asked, and there was just... nothing in his face. 

“A year? Five? Tell me!” she was shouting now, and she didn’t mean to but she didn’t... she didn’t think it was that long, and something was wrong and Taako was looking at her like he didn’t know who she was. 

“I don’t know! I don’t- what the fuck’s going on? Do you know me?” 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

“T-Taako? Taako it’s me. It’s Lup!” she pleaded, but her brain was already rapidly trying to make connection as just... no recognition shone in his eyes. 

“Look, I’m uh, I’m real sorry lady. Doesn’t ring a bell,” he said, and it-

It was real fucking hard to not let that break her. 

“Fisher. This has to be- it’s Fisher! Taako where’s the Starblaster?” she asked, but that confusion on his face only got more pronounced, his frown deepening. 

“Uh, yeah that was- that was all Greek to me, or static, specifically,” he said, and that pretty much confirmed it. Something- somehow, someone had used Fisher to erase her. To erase who knows how much. Her brother didn’t remember her. No one would be able to remember her. No one except- 

“Barry! Taako, where’s Barry?” 

“Who?” 

Again, there was a dangerous moment where she had to will herself together, thinking of her best day with Taako, her performance with Barry, all the little moments around them that kept her grounded. 

“Okay. Okay, I’ll just have to find him the hard way,” she said, finally forcing herself to let go of her brother. Who was still looking at her like she was a stranger. Like she was crazy. “I’ll have to fix this, too,” she added. 

“So uh, should I do something, or what?” Taako asked, and Lup told herself that was something. He was clearly freaked out, but he didn’t seem afraid of her. not of the fact that she was a lich or anything, at least. That was something. She thought over the question, glancing back at the food cart behind him. 

“I don’t know. How uh, how’re you doing? You safe? This cooking gig working out for you?” she asked. There was still that confusion there, but he nodded after a moment, giving a carefully careless shrug. 

“Yeah I mean, it’s pretty chill. I’m kinda a big deal, I guess,” he said, and if she could smile she would’ve. 

“Then just keep doing what you’re doing. I know this must not make a lot of sense, but I’ll be back and hopefully I’ll have Barry and we can figure this all out together, alright bro?” she said, and reluctantly Taako nodded. 

“Sure, I mean, you’re right on the money with this making no sense, but hey if I don’t gotta change anything about my life than sure, I’m down,” he said. That was good enough for Lup. It would have to be good enough. 

“Alright, catch you later then,” she said, turning away as Taako gave her a casual wave. 

New plan, she just had to find her husband. 

She might have to kill him when she found him, but she’d burn that bridge once she got to it.

[ladyartemesia]

Fic recs for taehyung? I love your stuff btw I’ve read them all uwu

As a beacon of extra-ness in an already extra world, I am entirely incapable of just recommending fics like a normal blog. No. I’ve got to wax on like a bloomin connoisseur. I have compiled some (but not all) of my favorite works in several different categories and sorted them accordingly. This crazy list is so long I had to add a “keep reading”... but I simply couldn’t bear to leave any of these off the list. They are all so good!

Fics have been divided into 8 categories. Some are under the cut. 

 ▨ FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS and FRIENDS TO LOVERS ▨  ▨ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ▨ ▨ FANTASY ▨ ▨ ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING ▨ ▨ HYBRID and ABO (alpha/omega) ▨ ▨ MULTIPLE PARTNERS ▨ ▨ NEIGHBORS AND ROOMMATES ▨ ▨ TABOO THEMES and DARK FIC (Sex Work/Power Imbalance/Very Unsafe Sex) ▨ ▨

▨ FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS and FRIENDS TO LOVERS ▨

Insomnia by @hobiwonder

This is one of those fics I read and literally could not stop thinking about. It is wildly hot and honestly hilarious. Poor reader cannot sleep and the beautiful bro she’s tutoring offers a rather unconventional solution.

(Ego) Hoe Chronicles: KTH by @suga-kookiemonster

Listen. If you find a niche fan blog devoted entirely to Ego Tae... I’m not gonna say it’s mine. But it’s probably mine. I once told suga-kookiemonster that I would literally read a story about Ego Tae going grocery shopping on a Wednesday night and I stand by that. In this lurid romp, the reader falls into the clutches of everyone’s favorite bohemian sex lord and he rails her into another dimension.

Falling, Falling, Gone by @johobi

Pining (mutual or otherwise) is not really my thing, but I would straight up read Jo’s laundry list if she posted it. As usual I was blown away by how everything she does seems somehow better than any other version of it. This reader is really unique as well, and her relationship with the wildly popular soccer star Tae comes to a sexy and hilarious head at a sort of bachelor auction. With sharp dialogue, delightful subtext, and fantastic side characters, you really shouldn’t miss it. It’s pretty much perfect.

A Friendly Favor by @baeseoul

This is the classic “teach me some sex for another woman” trope and it is done so well. Sweet best friend Tae is looking to benefit from your experience, but his is not the only world about to be thouroughly rocked.

Officer Kim and the Criminal Crush by @ddaengyoonmin

This is one of the best twists on childhood friends to lovers I have ever seen. Tae grows up to become a cop and reader grows up to be a societal menace. I won’t spoil it, but it’s the perfect blend of nostalgia, tenderness, and smut. This fic technically doesn’t have a name so I had to give it one to link it. It’s part of an AMAZING series Zoe did that I also highly recommend.

Out of the Blue by @jimlingss

This is one of those stories that blooms throughout the narrative until you are left with this gorgeous flower at the end. I loved the journey of these two characters. It was real and it perfectly captures the experience of finding your soulmate in the person you least expect.

Sin Pijama by @brilliantlybasicb

This fic is a switch culture fic. It is wild wicked hot and this Tae is unreal. I love the way he lets the reader think she is in control just long enough. It is a wild romp with an adorable sequel and honestly you should read it.

Girls Like You by @jjiminah

I was in jjiminah’s asks IMMEDIATELY about this fic because I had FEELINGS. The reader begins wordlessly teasing and tempting Tae on their morning bus ride every day until he is literally losing his mind. Everything that follows is fire. Jjiminah has hinted she will wrote more for these two and I NEED IT.

Sighs and Sonnets by @btsaudge

This fic is beautiful. Like it’s basically art. This is a bad boy who is bad for you. But he has the soul of a poet and the stroke game of a renaissance master. Bittersweet and seductive, this fic is a full experience.

The Text by @taetaesbaebaepsae

Tae is your friend with benefits but it looks like feeling may have been caught by one or more parties. When you attempt to soothe your aching heart with another pretty boy, Tae decides to stake his claim. This was very sexy. The whole fic was sexy.

▨ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ▨

Monster by @neonlights92

Monster and all of its companion series about each of the boys is one of those fics that I reread constantly and also just think about constantly. This is one of the best mafia AUs out there and it’s characters are vivid and unforgettable. Tae’s stubborn resistance to his lovely new wife in contrast with her quiet, clever strength really brings this story to life. A word of warning. The masterlist links are a bit messed up. To read part two you must click on part three. And to read part three must click on part four. The link to part four is at the bottom of part three (or you can just search it on her site. It is definitely all there though).

Dichotomy by @kpopfanfictrash

There is a reason the incomparable Shanna is on this list three times. She is truly incomparable. This is childhood friends-to enemies-to spouses and it is wonderful. I adore this Tae. He is sharp and vulnerable and occasionally heavy handed, but truly a gem. This fic also features one of the best angry sex scenes I’ve ever run my eyeballs across.

▨ FANTASY ▨

Chism by @kpopfanfictrash

The world-building in this story is genuinely awe inspiring. You could write series upon series within this vivid universe. The god of Winter is missing and Summer’s heat burns unchecked for many years. The reader is a warrior with a unique ability tasked with guarding a very interesting prisoner. This story is so good. I mean it is really bloomin incredible. It’s hard to say what I liked best about it, because it was stellar across the board.

Obsidian by @kpopfanfictrash

In the pantheon of delicious Tae incarnations, Obsidian Taehyung is essentially unrivaled as a grey witch who moonlights as a sexy rock star. His extremely erotic clash with a white witch detective plays out as the two of them track down a sinister killer (with the help of some truly memorable side characters).

Out of this World by @ddaengyoonmin

This one is really unique. Tae is a merman scientist on the water planet of Neptune and when the reader and her misguided crew crash into his sea, he takes it upon himself to improve inter-species relations. This fic features excellent world building alongside several twists and surprises. Clever scientist Tae is downright irresistible.

▨ ANGST WITH A HAPPY ENDING ▨

Picking Flowers by @jamaisjoons

So this story is a journey - truly a beautiful one and it’s a gorgeous addition to the hanahaki genre. There is real pain and I cried real tears, but gosh it was so sexy and so worth it. I was surprised by how truly immersed I ended up in this piece. I lost track of everything else. The end is insanely satisfying, but the journey is really what makes this fic unmissable.

Until Yesterday by @jimlingss

This fic destroyed me slowly then slowly put me together again piece by piece. When I say I went through it - I WENT THROUGH IT. The story is loosely based on the movie “The Vow” and it is just fantastic. Beautiful and tender till the last word.

The Foolish Muse by @bibbykins

This is the story of someone who is deeply in love, but knows they deserve better. It is a sexy and evocative work with allusions to mythology that fit seamlessly into the narrative. I think my favorite part is Tae discovering how much the reader meant to him and what choices ultimately lead them to a really delicious conclusion.

Back to You by @ladyartemesia

The last time I did a fic rec list, it got like 700 notes. Ya girl is not makin the same mistake again. I spent hours on this list. My work is comin along for the ride. Kim Taehyung is the love of your life, until one day he disappears without a trace.

Vacancy by @ppersonna

This one is the only idol AU on the list and I normally don’t read those, but Lindy’s work is too good to miss in any setting. I am thrilled I took a look because what I found was a glimpse into a beautiful relationship that weathers and eventually overcomes the challenges of loving in the limelight. There is a LOT of emotional depth and symbolism which really elevates everything about this lovely story. The reader’s internal struggles in the face of her lover’s fame are extremely well done.

▨ HYBRID and ABO ▨ (alpha/omega)

Eye of the Tiger by @opaljm

I am beyond hype about this story which is (very) loosely inspired by Zootopia and features a cocky tiger Taehyung and a fiesty prey hybrid he needs to fake date in order to keep panther Jimin from murdering him. (Tiger Tae got a tad too frisky around Jimin’s mate and now things are dangerously awkward.) This story is already so freakin good. I cannot wait for the rest.

Silver and Blue by @taetaewonderland

What happens when you get on the wrong side of the right werewolf? Very sexy - very crazy times. Chronologically this is the first of the Silver and Blue series which follows barely civilized were-Tae through his courtship and eventually his relationship with the spunky reader. Holla to all my impreg kink homies. This is the fic for you.

Heat Run by @ladyartemesia

As I said before, the last time I did a fic rec list, it got like 700 notes. Ya girl is not makin the same mistake twice. I spent hours on this list. My work is comin along for the ride. Alpha lawyer V is a man of many secrets, but his well ordered reality spirals wildly out of control when he crosses paths with a fiery omega set on saving the world from his wicked ways.

Beautiful Stranger by @interludemoonchild

This was a wild ride from start to finish. Taehyung is a tiger hybrid shifter who escapes from the circus to be close to a veterinary student he bonded with. There is a lot of interesting twists and surprises in this one. I was definitely screaming at the end.

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell by @jingabitch

A very young wolf hybrid Taehyung adopts you as his pet human when you are just a kid. After Tae leaves to serve in the military he returns to an adult version of his sweet little princess and chaos ensues. Mind the tags for this one folks. It’s excellent, but there are very triggering themes throughout.

▨ MULTIPLE PARTNERS ▨

Level of Restraint by @lemonjoonah

This is not strictly a Tae fic in that he is only one of three major players in this twisted masterpiece. Lemon is the undisputed queen of the surprise twist and this one is truly brilliant. People dropped this fic in the discord calling it the best fan fiction they had ever read and I am not here to argue with them at all. Fair warning, every word - every inch of this fic is sexy and it’s delicious brand of titillation is wrapped around your psyche good and tight by the end.

Four by @luxekook

The quadruplets next door are fueling your very lurid fantasies. It turns out they have some fantasies of their own... You will need water if you read this fic. This is the original patented Kim Taehyung Horny Hive Mind 4D Experience™

▨ NEIGHBORS AND ROOMMATES ▨

The Heat Wave Series by @curly-bangtan

The original story (chapter 1) in this series is definitely famous, but I don’t know how many people have read all 9 chapters and if you haven’t, you are really missing the incredible journey of two very horny idiots stumbling recklessly towards real and amazing love. Everything is set off when the air conditioner breaks and a pair of wild roommates shed their inhibitions along with their clothes.

Flicker by @chimoona

So this fic started out with adorable neighbor dynamics and ended with erotic rope tying. Baby I was ABOUT IT. This was so bloomin hot and also like sweet and tender. Really a sexy and sentimental treasure.

Not Your Typical Flower Shop Story by @jungtaeyoongles

This story goes from “aww” to “WHAT THE-” real quick. Fast paced plot and twist after twist turn the whole flower shop au upside down and then inside out. I can’t say more because spoilers but like - WOW.

▨ TABOO THEMES and DARK FIC ▨ (Sex Work/Power Imbalance/Very Unsafe Sex)

Extracurricular by @ppersonna

One of my favorite professor-student AUs. The reader writes her gorgeous professor a borderline erotic analysis of several major works of art and he feels compelled to discuss it with her privately. Lindy really outdid herself on this one. It is scorchin. Professor Tae is actually really sweet and somehow that just makes the whole thing hotter.

Akrasia by @nitaescence

This is insanely hot. Emphasis on the insane because it’s basically a super erotic romp where you have sex with a man you don’t know (Taehyung) on a crowded public bus. I literally felt my blood pressure going up the longer I read. Whew.

The Client by @jungkookiebus

This one hit me right in the feels. Taehyung is a sweet and lonely man who has a standing Wednesday appointment with an upscale sex worker. As the story progresses, feelings become involved on both sides. When I say I am checking her page thrice daily for part three... This is so engrossing. And this Tae. I just want to hold him.

Daffodil Dreams by @sombreboy

Tread carefully ladies and gents. This story is excellent, but it is easily the darkest fic on the list and, if you choose to read it, please read the trigger warnings carefully. The reader is a psychologist called in to analyze a very dangerous criminal. As their sessions progress, however, several boundaries are crossed.

Obey by @jjkfire

Taehyung is the most feared and ruthless member of the local mafia and you are the world’s most inept escort. You needed a job, but had no real interest in sex work and you’ve managed to fly under the radar as a glorified waitress until Kim Taehyung himself walks into your agency and decides that you’re the only girl he wants. Oh my gosh I loved this story so much. It was downright amazing and there is a surprise at the end that makes everything even sweeter.

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (1)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

Inspired by Unforeseen Mayhem by Aerugonian 

Here is their tumblr (all their work is so good)

(NEXT)

...

Kakashi thinks he might have died. He remembers the flash of steel and Obito’s face or maybe it had been Madara. His memory of the events leading up to the attack are hazy after receiving one too many hits to the head. What he does remember is the slowly spinning, hypnotic red of a Sharingan, and the quick build-up then explosion of chakra.

Then there was excruciating pain in his left eye and…darkness…

…

Kakashi opens his remaining, usable eye to gaze up at tall angled structures that stretch into a grey overcast sky. He can’t feel the left side of his face, his limbs are numb and unresponsive, and there is the damp of blood soaking through his hair. The bone-deep ache of chakra exhaustion is so all-encompassing that he can barely lift his hand let alone stop the bleeding. Around him, there are several people yelling in shock and surprise. Civilians he vaguely notes as he clings to consciousness. There is no sign of Madera, Obito or any of Kakashi’s allies for that matter.

When his vision dims for a second time he thinks that this, this would be his last breath. Alone, severely injured, in a foreign location and with only civilians as help? It was a death sentence.

He is wrong in the end.

…

Kakashi wakes up in a strange hospital bed surrounded by the strangest people he has ever seen. He also wakes up covered in bandages, his more serious injures either treated or in various stages of recovery.

The air is dry with a distinct lack of chakra. It is something he would usually only see in a prison cell made to contain dangerous shinobi in which chakra draining fuinjutsu arrays were applied to the walls and floor. There are no fuinjutsu arrays here. This is not a prison cell. For one, there is a large window. Secondly, there is a constant stream of doctors, nurses and other patients moving in, out and around the building. Finally, the door to the room is not locked. It doesn’t even have a lock.

After memorising the comings and goings of the people working in the strange hospital, he takes some time to scout. Even while injured and drained of chakra, he has enough skill and experience to avoid the workers and other sickly people he shares his room with.

 The world outside his window is one of cement, concrete and brick, with tall imposing structures covered in reflective glass standing higher than any building he has seen before. The closest point of comparison he has are the buildings in the Hidden-Rain and Stone villages but even those are a loose approximation. The hospital is both similar to Konoha’s main hospital, abet a lot bigger and full of strange equipment and technology. The people, despite their lack of chakra, display odd and inconstant abilities, techniques and physical deformities. One of the doctors has a lizard tail and he catches a glimpse of a man with a wooden block for a head. He sees a woman heal a cut with a simple hand wave. Either he is in an unusually elaborate and detailed genjutsu or he is very far away from Kohoha.

Everything is so odd and strange that he is well and truly stumped, leaving him with nothing else to do but quickly return to his hospital room. At least the weird chakra-less people are non-hostiles and willing to provide much needed medical attention. Though he is, as of yet, uncertain about the purpose or motive behind said medical attention seeing as he was a complete unknown to them.

After some consideration, Kakashi decides to wait. He has no idea how he ended up in the place aside from a loose theory that involved his still healing Kamui Sharingan. Additionally, there was no use trying to get back home with stab wounds, his leg broken, his ribs cracked, his shoulder muscles torn and his chakra levels so pathetically low that he’d probably kill himself if he tried.

He takes solace in the fact that his presence, while probably missed to some extent- he likes to think so anyway- wouldn’t impact the outcome of any major conflict. With Naruto’s stubbornness and Sakura’s tenacity, home would be waiting for him, even if he took a bit of time getting there.

…

After a week of information gathering -ie pretending to be unconscious and listening to conversations- Kakashi concludes that the people operating the hospital are relatively harmless. They seem to be under the mistaken impression that Kakashi is a citizen of their village and thus automatically entitled to medical attention. This is despite his lack of identification or history with the place. Such a thing would never happen in Konoha as even civilians were carefully monitored and tracked. Without identification or relatives/friends to vouch for them, a civilian would more likely be thrown out of the village than given what was surely resource-consuming medical treatment. It is lucky for him that there are apparently so many civilians in this village that their shinobi-equivalent forces couldn’t properly keep track of them all. Another point in favour of it not being any sort of hidden-village or any place he was familiar with.

 “Oh, thank goodness!” Says the greying, middle-aged man in a white coat as he approaches Kakashi's bed, “You’re finally awake. How do you feel.”

“Ah…a bit tired,” Kakashi plasters on a confused smile, raising his undamaged hand to rub the back of his head, hunching his shoulders for good measure. The perfect image of a disoriented patient.

 “What happened? Where am I?”

There was only so much he could achieve be pretending to be unconscious and snooping around at night. It was time to get a real feel for residents of this strange place and figure out his next move. This meant integrating into the local culture.  

“No need to worry. You’re in Hosu General Hospital and you’re well on your way to recovery,” A nod and the doctor moves forward to stand beside his bed, “A little drowsiness is a normal side effect of the pain medication we have you on. Now, if I may have your name?”

“Kakashi.” If they hadn’t recognised the Sharingan when they had bandaged it up, then they most likely wouldn’t recognise his name either.

“Well, Kakashi,” The man says with no hint of acknowledgement, “My name is Wada Yasutoki and I’m here to make sure you are recovering properly. Can you tell me if you are feeling any discomfort or pain at the moment?”

“Hmmm…my arm and leg?”

“Would you be able to rate it on a scale of 1 to 10?”

Kakashi thinks for a second and shrugs, “3.” Honestly, he only notices the pain when he’s consciously paying attention.

Another nod and Doctor Wada fusses about, examining the bandages around his shoulder and then his leg, “Well, they seem to be healing as well as any broken limb, maybe even a bit faster. And the stab wound near your chest is almost completely gone.” A thoughtful hum follows the statement. “If not for your left eye I would say you had a healing or regeneration quirk…hmmm…maybe a passive healing factor linked to your quirk…?” Wada looks to him, waiting for confirmation and Kakashi shrugs. From his nightly snooping he knows that ‘quirk’ is the term for the bloodline ability things the people here had.

The Doctor doesn’t press the matter instead asking, “Is there any discomfort in the left side of your face?”

“No.” Kakashi doesn’t want the people here touching his eye any more than necessary. The fact that it is draining charka at its usual sluggish rate was a sign that it was, at least, somewhat functional and that’s good enough for him. He guesses he should be thankful for landing in a place with medicine advanced enough to save it.

“You had us concerned when you didn’t wake after we saw to all your injuries,” The Doctor continues, “Your left eye took quite a bit of damage and we were worried that there might have been some sort of brain injury. If you feel dizzy, lightheaded or confused please, do not hesitate to call a nurse.”

The man shakes his head and sighs, “Now, I understand if you want a bit of space after going through such a traumatic event but if you could provide any details concerning the predicament that ended with you so badly injured it would be a great help to the investigation.”

Kakashi gives a faked confused hum and smiles apologetically, “Sorry Doctor Wada. I'm having trouble remembering much of anything really.”

“Nothing? No details about the potential assailant at all. What they look like? Their quirk?”

“No. Where is Hosu General Hospital by the way?”

His bland expression obviously causes his doctor some concern as he is subjected to a penlight being shone in his uncovered eye.

 “It is located in Hosu City, a ward of Tokyo. Where is the last place you remember being?”

The names mean nothing to him.  Kakashi schools his features into one of complete confusion, “I don’t remember.” 

It’s not even a lie this time. 

After the admission,  Doctor Wada only grows more concerned and Kakashi is subjected to many reassurances that it is completely normal to forget a few things after a brain injury and that he shouldn’t worry himself too much. The level of comforting and reassuring is a bit much if he is being honest. Never before has he longed for the cold frowns of  Konoha’s medic-nin.

“I’ll have to schedule you in for an MRI. If you’re having trouble recalling basic facts alongside your long-term memories, then there might a serious problem.” The older man finally concludes, having run through an extensive list of questions regarding Kakashi’s history all of which he answers with vague half-truths.  Where did he grow up? Somewhere with a lot of trees. Did he have any close relatives? He thinks they might have died when he was little. What does he do for a living? Commission work. Did he have any colleagues? He doesn’t know where they are. So on and so forth.

“It’s a shame your ID and phone were missing when they found you. Stolen by the bastard who put you in this situation no doubt,” the Doctor sighs again, “We might have been able to track down your records. Oh well, we’ll do our best with what we have.”

Kakashi doesn’t speak, pretending to be deep in thought. Mentally, he pats himself on the back for an infiltration gone surprisingly well considering his lack of preparation and the flakiness of the ‘sorry I don’t remember my backstory’ excuse.

“I don’t suppose you remember anything about your quirk,” the doctor asks, “Ocular quirks can have odd effects on brain activity and ability to process information. It might give us a place to start.”

From what he had seen, ‘quirks’ tended to have a specific function but he is still trying to figure out their limits. All he knew for sure was that none of them used chakra.

“It’s called the Sharingan.” He offers to see what the doctor does with the information, “I don’t remember much else about it.”

“Hmmm, ‘copy wheel eye’…it’s a descriptive name at least. Maybe a quirk that deals with memorisation or information recall. I will see if I can find it on the Quirk Registry. Hopefully, that will be enough. ”

Kakashi nods loosely in agreement, filing away the fact that there was a Quirk Registry for later contemplation. 

(NEXT)

[realm-sweet-realm]

Sammy and Jack. “Can we stay like this forever?”

Crisis of Faith, chapter 2

Sammy didn’t dream of Jack again until his next crisis of faith, and Sammy’s faith was very difficult to break. It had begun while Sammy, now a lost one made of fluid ink, was hiding in a wall, watching as a severely ink-infected woman raved.

“Mother, why do you punish me!?” she shouted as, with all the power left in her body, she tried to force open the padlocked doors of the women’s washroom. Her veins, prominent due to age and leanness, were a pitch-black web on her skin, and her wiry muscles had wasted away to bone.

Sammy had, on Joey’s command, overseen dozens of ink infections by now, and knew that there was nothing unusual about Emma Lamont’s case of it. Every single victim he had overseen had held some kind of delusion. Some believed that they were being poisoned by the government or their enemies, or that they were developing a mental illness. A very common one, however, was that they were receiving some sort of punishment, test, or reward from an all-powerful being- either God, or from a seemingly random entity that they’d decided to treat as one.

What if... Sammy’s beliefs were no different from this madwoman, screaming at the ghost of her mother?

Sammy moved on to check on the other infection victims. Even if Bendy wasn’t to be worshipped, the thought of ascension was all that kept him going. He sacrificed people on Joey’s command because the ink had told him to. He wrote his scriptures because he believed they were meaningful. He led the lost ones to Bendy and away from the lies their voices had told them because he truly believed that his voice had been the truth, and it seemed to give them hope, too.

Sammy passed  through the prison of ink creatures as he made his way to Joey’s sanctuary, where he now slept. A Charley was repeatedly banging its head against the bars of its cage. Lost ones wept. Ink stained every surface, making the brightly-lit room feel suffocatingly dark. Sammy was glad to phase through the wall into Joey’s sanctuary, where he could lie down on the couch and rest.

All this had to be leading to something. He couldn’t take it otherwise.

---

Sammy woke to the feeling of someone softly shaking him awake. He opened his eyes to see Jack, tears in his eyes and that disarming smile on his face.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” Jack asked gently.

Sammy, with a bit of difficulty, sat up and realized that he was in a hospital room, complete with an IV in his arm. He felt very weak, but also lighter- like a burden had been taken off of him. “Awful,” he admitted.

“Well, you want some good news? The ink is gone. All of it. You still have a lot of organ damage, but it’s nothing they can’t fix in a couple weeks. In other words, it’s over, Sammy. You’re gonna be okay.”

It took Sammy a half a minute to even process that. Once he did, though, he broke into tears of relief and hugged Jack as tightly as he could.

“Thank you. God, thank you for making me come here. You saved my life.”

Jack hugged him back. “Hey, I didn’t make you do anything. I know this took a lot of courage for you. And... I’m really glad you did it. I was so scared when I found you in your sanctuary. You were so sick... I thought I’d lose you. Sammy, I think I love you. But... we can talk about that later. Right now, you need to rest.”

“I love you, too.” Easiest words Sammy had ever said.

After a little more chatting, Jack left. Sammy wandered over to the bathroom to get a look at himself in the mirror. Admittedly, he didn’t look great. He looked like a person who’d narrowly survived a life-threatening illness, because that’s what he was. His skin was still pale and sunken, and he was still pretty gaunt, but the black veins, the bruise-like purple splotches on his skin, and even the staining in his mouth and his long, blond hair- it was gone. When Sammy woke, he would have given anything to see his human face again.

---Two years later---

As often happened whenever Sammy decided to play his banjo, a small crowd had gathered around him. Today, the crowd consisted of three lost ones, Jack (of course), a moderately ink-infected woman, and one of their last healthy men. The song Sammy was playing was "I’ll fly away.” He wasn’t singing it today, but he had sang it for his followers in the past, simply replacing the word, “God’s” with “his,” since “Bendy’s,” unfortunately, was two syllables.

“You know, it’s amazing how you can remember music like that,” said David, the only non-infected person in attendance. “I'm already forgetting the words to my favourite songs since it’s been so long since we’ve been able to just turn on a radio. How do you do it?”

Sammy would have smiled if he still had a mouth. “Well, a part of it is just natural ability,” Sammy admitted. “But. I have a secret to tell you. A part of it is faith. Faith can do great things. Collective faith in Bendy is the reason that we are the largest organization in this dimension. This village was built on faith. Faith keeps us united! Faith keeps us safe! And... faith allows me to to see into the old world every night when I close my eyes. I hope that all of you one day achieve that absolute belief that something in this world is good.”

“Heh. I’m trying. But all I have are nightmares of Bendy,” a lost one complained.

“Well, keep trying. Believe in his benevolence.” With that, Sammy got up and left for bed, patting Jack on the head on the way out. If only they knew that he used to be plagued by those same nightmares.

---

Sammy’s dream came in to form. He was on a bus, sitting next to Jack. Outside their window, snow was falling gently over a pretty,  snow-covered forest. For a while Sammy just sat in peace, holding Jack’s hand and enjoying the scenery.

“Excited to see your parents again? I know I can’t wait to meet them.”

Sammy nodded. “I can’t wait.” Sammy had always wanted to introduce Jack to his parents. He remembered that there was a strong reason why he hadn’t done it while he was alive, but he couldn’t remember what it was. “My Dad is going to love you. You’re a lot like him, you know. Do you remember why we didn’t do this sooner?”

“Because I’m a man,” Jack answered, totally calm.

“Oh!” Sammy had forgotten a lot about the outside world since his transformation, but nothing so big as the existence of homophobia. It was kind of alarming that the ink was affecting his brain that much. “God. I’m so... forgetful. I’ll just have to introduce you as my musical partner or something. It’s unconventional, but they've seen me do weirder.”

“You  know, Sammy, it’s like you got new lease on life after the ink incident. I love that. But yeah, you’re forgetting things left and right!” Jack teasingly jabbed him with his elbow.

“Yeah... Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” Jack said. Sammy worried what Jack would think, but looking into those calm brown eyes, he trusted him to not to react badly. And it would be nice to have one person he didn’t have to lie to.

“This is a dream. In the real world, I never got help for my ink infection, and now me and dozens of other people are trapped a dimension full of monsters. I’m holding a large band of people together by convincing them to collectively worship one of them. And you,” Sammy took a deep breath, “you’re there, too. But you haven’t had a coherent thought in years. I keep hoping that one day, we’ll make it out, and I’ll be able to confess to you and we’ll actually build a life like this. So... I’m forgetful because that ink is affecting my mind, and I’m happy because this world is my escape. And because you’re here, of course.” Sammy couldn’t meet Jack’s eyes. He’d probably just made himself sound like a lunatic.

Jack turned Sammy’s head to look at him. “Hey. I believe you. And... that sounds really rough. I wish I could help you.”

Sammy smiled. “Thanks. But you've been helping me all along.” Sammy laid his head on Jack’s shoulder. Maybe once the bus stopped, they’d get some hot chocolate and look at some shops before seeing his parents. It would be nice.

---

Sammy was violently shaken awake by a trio of searchers. More were behind them- as though half the village had crammed itself into his bedroom.

“Bendy is here!” one of them yelled. “What do we do?”

That was a good question. Sammy reached for his axe, but then he stopped. This was, according to the gospel he’d been feeding them, their saviour. “Go out to greet him,” Sammy instructed, trying not to sound as hesitant as he felt. “Bring him offerings of bacon soup. Bring everyone, even the Boris clones- they used to be human, too.”

The crowd of lost ones dispersed. Sammy watched with bated breath from the balcony of his lost-one village home as a massive crowd- lost ones, searchers, people both infected and healthy, and their three Boris clones- gathered along the ink river. Dozens of cans of bacon soup were placed along the river bank as an offering. Bendy stood on the other side of the river. Their drawbridge lowered, but Bendy decided instead to walk on the ink’s surface like the God they treated him as. The crowd gasped and made way. Bendy took an ink-infected man in one arm, stroked his cheek, and bit his face off.

Screams filled the air. People ran in all directions. Sammy was frozen for several seconds before he took action.

“Everyone! Run for cover! We have displeased him! I repeat, run for cover!” Sammy's booming, demonic voice covered the great distance it needed to. Upon seeing the people run and Bendy chase after them, Sammy himself slammed shut his doors and windows and listened in horror to the screams.

When it was over, all he could think to tell his people was that they needed to reconsider how they were paying tribute to the ink demon. If they changed their methods just a little, then the demon would be helpful instead of violent, and they would be freed.

To Sammy’s mixed relief, they actually believed it.

---

eleven years went by. Within the first three, every single flesh-and-blood person in the sketch dimension was infected, killed, or both, and became a lost one.

Their minds were rotting. Increasing numbers of lost ones struggled to remember anything about themselves or the outside world. Wandering aimlessly or resting in ink puddles, they were helpless as zombies.

But not Sammy. Sammy remained- comparatively, at least- as sharp as a whip, and told the lost ones tales so vivid about the outside world that they could almost taste its brilliance and freedom. Sammy only wished that Jack- the real Jack- could understand any of it.

There was nothing to do about that but what Sammy had been doing all along: keep the community together. Keep the lost ones moralized and sane. Figuratively and literally dream of a  better world. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Sammy didn’t want to forget a thing about the real world, but little pieces had fallen away, bit by bit. In his dreams, there were now places he couldn’t visit because he didn’t remember what they were like. His reflection in the mirror had become a human-shaped blur as he forgot his appearance. The same thing had happened to the faces of people he used to remember clear as day. One day, he would forget it all, too- just as everyone else had.

It was hard to keep hope.

One of Sammy’s dreams found him walking down a beach with Jack at his side. Sammy knew that the two of them had relocated at some point, but he didn’t know to where. His American geography was rather fuzzy at this point.

“Can I vent to you about the other world?” Sammy asked.

“Sure,” Jack said. Jack was one thing that Sammy’s memory hadn’t gone fuzzy on. Sammy still remembered every soft curve of his face, every freckle, every detail. His dark brown hair was starting to grey, but not because Sammy remembered him that way- it had been many years, and growing old together was part of the fantasy.

“Bendy came to the village again today. He killed a few lost ones and then left. People are losing faith in me and I don’t know how to get it back. And to make matters worse, a false prophet is going around saying we should worship the angel instead! She’d enslave us if we did that!" Sammy chucked a baseball-sized rock into the water, then composed himself a bit. “And you know, we’re all going to be mindless drones eventually. I’m thinking... maybe I won’t fight the false prophet. I could leave the village, hide in a vent, and spend as little time awake as possible. Ink creatures can sleep for days, you know. What do say? Can we stay like this forever? Enjoy this world until I lose my mind like all the rest?” Sammy took Jack’s hands and looked desperately into his eyes.

Jack hesitated, but by the look on his face, Sammy already knew what his answer would be. “I’m sorry. You know I have to say no. The lost ones need you.”

“But why am I the one who has to stay strong for them? I’m sick of it.”

“Because you’re the one who can. I know it isn’t fair, but you’re the reason they’ve been protecting each other. And it sounds like if you leave them now, they’ll throw themselves at Alice. Do it for them. And if you can’t bring yourself to care about them... do it for me. The real me. You still love him, right?”

“Of course...” Sammy probably would have done this sooner if he didn’t care about the well-being of his searcher friend.

Jack put a hand on Sammy’s shoulder. “I don’t know how, but you’ll get out some day. And in the meantime, I’m here.”

Sammy tried to think of some objection, but he couldn’t. He muttered a “thanks” and kept walking along the beach. Jack followed. It was, if nothing else, a beautiful night, and he might as well enjoy it.

“Jack... tell me what I look like. I don’t care that it’ll just be something you made up. Tell me anyhow.”

[votederpycausemufins]

So, happy eggs benedict day to those who watch dsmp. I’m sure you’ll have fun today! I know I will when you all read this chapter and freak out at the end! also gonna apologize for the formatting. I wasn’t sure how to replicate what I did while writing it, so I’m doing that instead.

@petrichormeraki​

“Hey Tommy?” Phil took the teen over to the side, wanting to speak with him. “Since Grian is still talking with his admin-”

“He’s my admin too. You saw that the other me was in their world.”

“Right, fine. While he’s talking to your admin, I’ve got a question.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“When you were talking with that other you… D-Did Kristen show up?”

“Mumza? Uh, no. Why d’ya ask?”

“Well, I guess you wouldn’t know. She wasn’t really around when you were growing up. But she’s sort of… a goddess of death.”

Tommy’s eyes widened. “She’s what?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, no. Mumza didn’t show up. You did. Or the other version of you. I guess you’re the death god there instead of her.”

“Right. Well, anything else happen, mate?”

“After the other you showed up, the other me got taken away by him and told me the thing to say to Xannes.”

“Alright. Thanks for telling me Tommy.”

“Theseus. Theeeeeeeseus. Theseus! Wake up!”

“Ugh… where am I?”

“Prison. Specifically Base Iridium.”

Theseus shook his head to wake himself up more. “Wait where the fuck am I?!”

“I just said you’re-”

“No what the fuck is this?!” Theseus shouted and tried moving around, only making the sound of chains jingling.

“Ohhhh, enchanted bedrock casket to make sure you can’t move. But hey, At least we get face holes. Aaaand you’re hyperventilating.”

“How do I get out?! Let me out!”

“If I knew how to get out, I would have aaaaaages ago and gone to see Sense!”

“W-Wait, S-Sense like the e-evil r-redstone guy?”

“Yes! With a wonderful mustache and sexy suit of his~”

“Oh eww gross. You’re just as bad as him.” Theseus cringed.

“How’s he doing?”

“Half starved to death and had his vocal cords ripped out.”

“He. What.”

“The new emperor of Helscraft or whatever did it. Kicked him off the throne and trapped him in whatever was there instead of the nether.”

“No! Now I need to get out!” Chain rattling filled the air.

“Uh hey, what’s your name by the way?”

There was a pause from the rattling. “Oh you heard I changed it? It’s Grifter now.”

“Uh, didn’t know you started with anything else.”

“Hiii Puffy! I’m baaack! Did you an’ Grum talk about stuff?” Jrum walked into Puffy’s home holding a lot of quartz in his arms. He knew he could just put it in his inventory, but this was more fun.

“Yes we did, though… well it was a little rough for him, so he’s... out building a place for you to stay near your charger until you can get home, alright?”

Jrum nodded, accepting the answer without question before setting his haul down on a table and picking up a piece quartz to chew on. “I made a new friend! His name is Michael!”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“Yeah! And then I went exploring and I found a big cave!”

“In the nether?” Puffy asked, only half paying attention right now while hoping Jrum would get distracted talking. She knew the bot’s brother wasn’t really out building after his panic attack, but duckling Dream had been kind and offered to help the child.

“It looked kinda like it, but no. It kinda looked like something Uncle Scar would make. It was pretty. He once built a humongous drill to get to the nether. A-And then some of the nether started climbing out, but the hole was waaaaay too big so it didn’t have any chance!”

“That sounds creative.”

“Yeah! He also made a magic village with a big magic crystal, and apparently it helps connect to the hels dimension, so I made a friend there!”

“What’s that?” Puffy asked with a tilt of her head. 

“Oh, the hels dimension is a place parallel to this dimension, but it’s not like another dimension like the overworld and the nether are different dimensions to themselves, hels is like… us, but through a mirror! A funhouse mirror! Like my daddy is really good at redstone like me, and he can get frazzled at times, but he’s really nice. But then there’s the hels version of him who’s like a big mean evil scientist!”

“Oh really. And I suppose you made friends with your hels version?” Puffy asked with a small smile, but Jrum frowned and found his antenna to tug on, squeezing the little blue ball at the end.

“Uh, no. Grum and I were built by our dads, but in hels, they got separated and so they couldn’t build us. So… we don’t have our own hels versions.”

Puffy frowned sadly. “Do you want to talk about that?

“Yeah. I’ve tried telling my dads, but they just sort of reassure me without really listening.”

Puffy got a chair set up for Jrum, ready for an impromptu therapy session which she hoped wouldn’t end as bad as the last one. “Now, what’s bothering you most?”

“Well, the fact that we don’t have our other versions kinda hurts because it sort of makes me feel like we’re less real. I know my dads say that we’re of course real, but it doesn’t hurt less because they just sort of say it and not give reasons. In fact, they sort of give us less reasons because they were really protective about us respawning since they didn’t know how that would work. I mean, I guess they had a reason to worry since Grum and me are here now, but the fact they couldn’t trust us with that kinda hurts.

“And then we need to be charged up as well as eat, but we don’t need to worry about phantoms. I guess it’s a trade off, but no one else has to deal with that! It feels weird! From what Xisuma said, he needed to mess with some files to get us read properly by all his admin stuff, and he didn’t need to do that for others sort of like us, so why are we different?!”

Puffy hugged Jrum to comfort the now crying robot. The small whispers of reassurance helped a little, telling him he really was a person and that he would be safe. Jrum was glad for them he didn’t like the mess he was in, and the fact that it came from not really being a person made it sting even worse. So he was very happy to find someone who would listen and understand.

System hard drive crash. Attempting recovery. Recovering… Recovering… 92% of data recovered. Rebooting… Rebooting… Essential data missing. Please insert external drive for troubleshooting.

External drive connected. Reading external data. 16 files located. Do you wish to replace data with files? Backing up old files. Backing up… Backing up… Data has been backed up. Replacing data. Replacing… Replacing… Replacement complete. Restarting. One moment.

Restart complete. Checking systems. 100% data found. Implementing… Implementing… Files implemented.

Are you sure you want to rename this machine? Renaming… Renaming… Renaming complete. Restart needed to fully implement. Restarting. One moment.

Welcome. Please continue with s s s set u u up. Ch ch choose a l l lan. :) 

Grumbot sat up with a start. He was pretty sure if he wasn’t a robot, he’d be breathing heavily. He put a hand to his head before looking around. It looked like he had been put in a room with a bed, but he didn’t recognize it, and no one else was there.

Grum tried to remember what happened. Had he run out of battery? Or had he gotten damaged. No, he had been trying to [: )] and it didn’t work out. He had also been with Puffy, so perhaps this was another room in her house. It wasn’t one he had seen before, but he also hadn’t really gone exploring.

Getting up from the bed and stretching, Grum decided to do just a little bit of looking around the room to make sure this really was Puffy’s place. He didn’t want to end up in someone else’s place and get in trouble. Though perhaps it was a similar situation to [: )] when they showed up on [: )].

That was another thing he almost forgot. Jrum. Was he okay? He didn’t know how long they had been separated and if it were long enough, he could have gotten in trouble. He had always taken after their [: )] and if the people here weren’t the happiest about stuff like that, it might not end well.

Well, as he looked around, the place seemed safe, and after carefully breaking a piece of the wall before putting it back, he was still at Puffy’s home. He attempted to contact Jrum, but it seemed that function wasn’t working. Possibly because they were no longer in [: )] and it was something there that allowed a direct connection between the two of them.

Grum’s eyes landed on a piece of paper he hadn’t noticed before. It seemed to be a note of sorts, so he read it. It seemed to be from the admin. He wrote how Puffy said Grum passed out and she went to check on Jrum to make sure the same didn’t happen to him. That if he would like, the admin could check him over and make sure everything was fine and there were no programming issues.

The robot rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t have any issues. [: )] and [: )] had built him just fine, Plus Jrum had gotten the two of them updates from [: )] so they were even better. There was no reason to see the admin, especially because…

Because…

Because why? This person was the admin, so he would just be making sure the server ran as smoothly as possible. He likely was just worried. That was all. What admin wouldn’t? And they hadn’t done anything to make Grum think otherwise. If they did, then maybe he would need to be wary. But so far, nothing. 

Puffy suggested they get a treat for Jrumbot to help him cheer up and Jrum wiped away his virtual tears before following her. As they left, neither of them noticed the small red plant wrapping around the antenna and connecting to the now red ball on the end of it.

“Ah ha. Nice joke Theseu- wait a second.” There was silence. “You’re not my brother.”

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[fangirlandiknowit101]

30 BTS writer asks: 1, 12 + 18? ❤️🌻

Almost forgot to add - thanks for asking<33333

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Unsurprisingly, it was for Naruto and Sasuke/Naruto. You can still read it in all its glory, even on ao3 lmao. Might be hard to believe but that fic (Unsuspicious title, don't ask why it's called that I have no explanations) is really the absolute first thing I wrote that counts as a fanfic. I didn't write about other people's fictional characters before that. I didn't really write much outside of school at all, not sure how I lived my life tbh...

12. Is there a trope you haven’t written yet but really want to?

I answered earlier that I want to write a horse rider au at some point, but what I'd also like is to write a real enemies to lovers fic. Like, actual enemies. But it might be too angsty, so who knows if I'll ever make it lol.

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Aah you guys really want that commentary don't you... maybe one day I'll release a version of tswm with director's commentary for the whole thing hahahahaha (jk I'd never have time to do that)

But alright, I'm gonna take the opportunity to comment on another scene in tswm that I definitely this deserves it, it's the reunion scene between Naruto and Sasuke in chapter 49! I hesitated to pick this one bc it's so long and emotional, and also I don't want to add any accidental spoilers... but oh well. Here we go!

[My comments will be in bold text, this starts almost at the beginning of the chapter, right when Sasuke meets Naruto in Kaguya's place.]

He reached out with a hand, the bright light reflecting in the half-moon in his palm. It glowed, and just like that, his hand wrapped around another’s.

Naruto.

He sucked in a breath, lungs desperate for air. Naruto stood before him, chest heaving, hand clutching Sasuke’s so hard he feared it might break.

Their shared beat rang loud in his ears, eyes wide as they drank each other in. The darkness had given way to white, fuzzy light, their bodies floating, suspended in air.

“Sasuke,” Naruto whispered, as if afraid to drown out the sound of their connection.

Honestly, I tried my best to make it as painful as possible. That's all I wanted lol. At first I had no idea how to write this scene, but then I just got a feeling and tried to write it in words.

There was no hiding in this place. It was similar to that strange place that seemed to exist between them when they fought, blows connecting, hearts open. Between one breath and the next, it would be gone, their shared hearts lingering long after.

Nothing more poetic than that special place Kishimoto created for them when they exchange blows... extremely gay.

Here, there was only the two of them, the heat of their bodies as Naruto reached for his face.

“Am I dreaming?” Naruto wondered, fingers stroking along Sasuke’s cheekbone. “You look so real…”

They sank down, slowly, until their feet touched solid white. He shivered, the tips of Naruto’s fingers touching his chin, his mouth.

“It could be a dream,” Sasuke said quietly, exhaling as Naruto came closer.

“I can feel your heart,” Naruto murmured, his forehead coming to rest against Sasuke’s temple. “I missed you so much.”

Images flashed before Sasuke’s eyes, impressions of the world from Naruto’s perspective. Menma as the kyuubi. Kakashi, entering through a window. Iruka, hand gentle as he reached over the table.

Sakura, pain drawing her face tight. A mountain of paperwork. Snippets of conversation. The overwhelming pain of loneliness, like walls closing in on him.

He puzzled together enough pieces to make sense of the days since they separated.

Must be convenient to just read each other's minds... I should stop making fun of my own writing. But anyway, I felt very clever when I realized I could skip explanations between them and just let them see each other's memories of the past few days. I think it fits that they could see it through the other person's eyes, all the emotions too. Especially how painful it was for Naruto and how much he was trying to keep it together in front of his friends, and still failing. It gives Sasuke a better understanding of what would have happened if he'd decided to leave after one year passed (and I'm still bitter at Kishimoto for doing that in canon.)

“Naruto,” he sighed, lifting a hand to sift through soft strands of hair, closing his eyes as Naruto pressed into him.

Hearts bared, he felt Naruto’s desperate longing as his own. It mirrored his own pain, the aching emptiness filling his chest. Little by little, the cold was pushed away by warmth, Naruto’s mouth touching his cheek, his jaw, his throat. It burned against his skin, each point of contact erupting into tendrils of heat that seeped into his body.

“I didn’t know what to do,” Naruto confessed, lips shaping the words onto Sasuke’s throat. “I couldn’t go back to you, I-“

Sasuke turned his head, capturing his mouth. The words were lost between their lips, swallowed by the sudden surge of need. Naruto’s arm wrapped around his neck, keeping him in place. A fever caught him, leaving him dizzy and faint. He felt emotions between them like a physical caress, like they swirled in and out of their bodies, like a strong wind playing with fallen leaves.

Pain. Longing. Fear.

Happiness. Comfort. Love.

Naruto kissed him like he’d die if they stopped. He might, for all Sasuke knew.

Don't mind me, I was just crying buckets as I wrote this.

Their hands were still clasped tight, their palms pressed together, keeping their marks in contact. Teeth dug into his lower lip, but he could barely feel the pain over the onslaught of emotion. It was overwhelming, to share Naruto’s heart so fully. Was this how Naruto had felt, when Sasuke had touched him by accident? When Sasuke had shared too much of himself, and Naruto had been unable to give him the same in return.

I think it actually wasn't as overwhelming for Naruto when Sasuke accidentally touched him. This place that Kaguya controls just amplifies things a lot.

No such restraints now.

Their souls were on fire, like chakra flames billowing around their bodies. It was too much to make sense of, and yet it felt as if they’d always been this close, always been one and the same. Naruto fit inside him like a key, like Sasuke was now unlocked, his body no longer keeping him prisoner.

“Naruto,” he breathed out, over and over again, every nerve ending alight as they held each other.

I was listening to this song called Heat Up by Giant Rooks as I wrote this (that's where the chapter title comes from and honestly the lyrics are just *chef's kiss*) and I really tried to use as much metaphor as I could, idk if that makes it sound boring haha but for once I was definitely thinking very hard about every single sentence. And I tried to make it as "alive" as I could, so you'd feel it rather than have it described to you.

An eternity later they calmed down, mouths sliding lazily over each other, heartbeats finally finding their shared rhythm. Their foreheads pressed together, Sasuke’s eyes fluttering open to meet deep blue, their usual strength faded into self-doubt.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, running his fingers through Naruto’s hair, thumb tracing the shell of his ear. “Don’t hide from me, not here.”

Aww look at Sasuke, so in tune with his emotions. He really is an all or nothing kind of guy. If they already share everything in this place, there's no point in having secrets. Besides, his worst fear is Naruto losing confidence because of something he said or did.

Naruto let out a sharp breath, lifting their clasped hands between their chests.

“I missed you,” he said again, eyes closing in pain. “I’m so happy you’ve been okay.”

So much pain. Sasuke struggled to make sense of it, so much of it reflected inwards, towards Naruto himself. He could understand the longing, the absence of him like a gaping hole. It mirrored his own pain, pain he’d locked inside his heart within a steel cage. It flowed freely now, wrapping around Naruto’s in recognition.

But the rest… Naruto let out a sob, and yet he was smiling. Sasuke pressed another kiss to his lips, unsure of what to say.

I know Naruto did that whole waterfall thing where he embraced his evil side and totally let go of all his negative energy... But you can't tell me he's 100% okay and only happy and never feels pain. When will Konoha start offering therapy... Jokes aside, at this moment in time Naruto is so conflicted. The whole time he's been worried about Sasuke leaving him, and telling himself that Sasuke would be happier in the other dimension, and that logically he should let Sasuke stay, but he absolutely doesn't want Sasuke to leave him. It's the most selfish thing he's ever felt, I think, this need to have Sasuke by his side. And he's got so much on his shoulders, just piling up, everyone relying on him to somehow magically fix the world. And he's afraid of failing, of acknowledging to himself that there are parts of him that aren't ready to shoulder this burden, that he's still hurting, that there's still a part of him that could have become like Menma. He's supposed to be completely selfless but he isn't, and he thinks of that as a character flaw, a personal failure. And that's kind of where his resolution to not become hokage comes from. Because he doesn't think he can remove this selfish parts of him, and so maybe he should embrace them instead.

“Sasuke, it’s so strange…” Naruto started, his words slow, carefully chosen. “You understand Charasuke so well, but Menma… I can’t accept him. And now I realize, he shows the ugliest parts of me. The parts that I’m afraid of.”

They both leaned back a little, to see each other’s faces. Light played over Naruto’s features, blurring him at the edges. Sasuke cupped his cheek, tilting his chin up so that their eyes met. Now that he knew what to look for, he could feel Naruto’s fear.

“It’s always there,” Naruto confessed, raw honesty in his voice. “The fear of losing you. The fear of not being strong enough. The fear of becoming hokage, and failing.”

Sasuke opened his mouth to say something, to reassure him, but Naruto shook his head quickly.

Sasuke, on the other hand, he never held himself up to be a good person. He's well aware that he has weaknesses, that he's putting up walls so he won't have to deal with emotions and stuff. But he does believe (a bit blindly) in Naruto, I think. Even though he thinks Naruto won't succeed, it's not because of anything that Naruto does or fails to do. He thinks it's because the world won't follow him, that Konoha isn't capable of change. But he never thought that Naruto would actually give up or have these kinds of doubts.

“Let me say this. I didn’t understand it at first. Menma always rubbed me the wrong way. I know you don’t like him either, but for me… It’s like looking at myself and knowing I gave up.”

He drew in a deep breath, his fingers trembling around Sasuke’s.

“And now, here, I can’t avoid that fear. Because all of it… all of it is for you, Sasuke.” He swallowed, and through the fear, Sasuke saw his determination. “You asked me, if there’s any room in my head for anyone but you. And there isn’t.”

Naruto's brain is 99% Sasuke and 1% ramen, that's just fact. That aside, this might be one of my favorite quotes in the fic.

Frowning, Sasuke bit the inside of his cheek to stay silent. Naruto was working up to something, he could tell, and part of him couldn’t help but think it would end the two of them.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Naruto said, drawing the pad of his thumb over Sasuke’s eyebrow, the touch equal parts reassuring and painful. “I can hear your thoughts, you know. Do you really believe that I would choose anything else over you?”

A lie caught on Sasuke’s tongue. He didn’t want to believe it, but what place did he have by Naruto’s side? How could he be all that Naruto wanted him, needed him, to be? How could he be someone that others would accept walking by his side?

Oh, Sasuke. Always so ready for Naruto to cast him aside. He doesn't want to stand in the way of Naruto's dreams *wipes tear*

“I don’t believe that you would want to,” he replied, eventually. “But maybe you should.”

They stood for a long time, looking at each other. Sasuke felt torn in two directions. He wanted to tell Naruto to never leave him. He wanted to say that he’d accept anything. That he’d remove himself from Naruto’s presence to make the choice for him. That he couldn’t, wouldn’t, stand between Naruto and his dreams.

That he’d known, all along, that the other dimension was only a dream. An impossibility. That he accepted this, and wouldn’t resent Naruto for choosing the village over him.

I think the difference between Naruto and Sasuke here, is that even though they both think the other should maybe leave them for better things, Naruto is much less ready to actually give Sasuke up. Sasuke is more of the martyr type lol.

“You deserve me,” Naruto said, voice dark with conviction. “Don’t you dare think otherwise. Don’t you understand? If you saw what I’ve been doing the past days…”

Naruto lifted their joined hands higher, shifted his grip until he held Sasuke’s palm open in front of himself.

“I thought only of you. I cared only about you. What good is the village to me, if you’re not there?”

His heart felt too heavy in his chest. Naruto’s words rang through his ears, the implication behind them ensnaring his heart until Naruto held it in his hand, too.

“I don’t want any of it, if you’re not with me.”

Sasuke lowered his eyes. He couldn’t allow himself to give in. He’d already given so much, and although he knew that Naruto would have this, too, it was too much in this moment.

“Sasuke… When are you going to recognize that you’re a good person? That even if our relationship hadn’t changed like this, I’d still need you beside me?”

I wanted to write this part so badly... To make Naruto tell Sasuke that he's a good person. That Naruto thinks so, at least. It's one of the first things I thought of for this scene. Not that Sasuke agrees haha.

“Me, a good person?” Sasuke raised his eyebrows, meeting Naruto’s gaze again. He recognized the stubborn glint in Naruto’s eyes, and sighed. “Even if that was true, you’re smart enough to know it’s not enough.”

Slowly, Naruto pulled his hand closer, his grip turning gentle. Sasuke caught himself holding his breath, as Naruto’s lips connected with the mark on his palm.

“You still don’t understand,” Naruto murmured, the movement of his lips tickling Sasuke’s skin. “The past few days, what have you been doing? Caring for the children, when I wasn’t there to do it. Putting Charasuke before yourself, comforting him in the ways he needed you to. Holding yourself together. Trusting me to come back.”

This is where we acknowledge exactly how much Sasuke has changed. Naruto spent the days apart thinking only of Sasuke, even to the point where he was neglecting his friends and duties. Sasuke, on the other hand, stepped up to fill the role he thought Naruto left behind, hiding his pain behind helping others. Ultimately trusting Naruto to hold his promise to come back. Also, I just want them to be soft with each other T_T

Staring at him, Sasuke’s breath caught in his chest at the swell of pride Naruto felt for him. Was it true, that he had changed so much? In Naruto’s eyes, he had. It was startling, to realize how Naruto thought of him. But Naruto had changed too, he thought. They had grown closer, in a way he didn’t think they could have in their own Konoha.

“I think Charasuke is a bit like you,” Sasuke said, lips twitching upwards at Naruto’s affronted look. “He needs physical comfort. I don’t mind giving it to you, and I guess I don’t mind giving it to him either. You both tend to do whatever you feel like, anyway.”

“You used to mind.” Naruto looked serious, reaching out to touch Sasuke’s mouth as if to prove his point. “Suddenly, you didn’t.”

The smile slipped from Sasuke’s lips. Naruto was right. A few weeks ago, he did push Charasuke out of the window. To be fair, Charasuke hadn’t liked him much back then, either, and the circumstances had been very different. He did understand him better now. If Menma represented Naruto’s fears, Charasuke represented everything Sasuke wanted in life. But Charasuke didn’t have Naruto, didn’t have Menma with him either, and maybe that was why Sasuke wanted to be there for him. His connection with Naruto was precious to him, had kept him going, had kept him questioning himself even in his worst moments of darkness. Had given him a reason not to give up on a life that wasn’t filled with pain and hatred.

Naruto made it worth it to change. Was he hoping to help Charasuke change, too?

Spoiler alert... yes you were, Sas.

Perhaps Kaguya had something to do with it, but maybe, even without her influence, he would have reached this point anyway if given enough time. Time they didn’t have back home. It surprised him to realize that Naruto had thought of this already. That he felt selfish for wanting Sasuke to go back with him, when he knew it would be painful.

“You minded when I touched you, too,” Naruto added, as a reminder that they were talking about the two of them.

“I didn’t.” It was easy to confess. “I couldn’t allow myself to accept it, but I never minded. And now…”

Even if Naruto could read most of his thoughts in this space, it was difficult to say the words.

“I was afraid to have more of you. I still am.  Because I know they’ll never accept it.”

Sasuke vs homophobia :( Can't really kill that with a sword. Sasuke was definitely in love with him before they went to the RTN dimension, he'd just buried it so deep that he had no idea it was there or what it was. If you separate love from attraction it's not really gay, is it? (It is)

Naruto kissed him again, desperately. There were so many thoughts swirling between them, a mess of images and emotions overshadowed by the overwhelming fear of losing each other.

Naruto’s guilt, for not being able to reach Menma like Sasuke reached Charasuke. Their worry for each other. The frustration of being forced to wait. Sasuke’s slow realization of how much Naruto meant to him. How much his family meant to him, even a different version of them.

“I can’t be without you again,” Naruto said, swallowing thickly. “There’s so much I want to say and I don’t know how.”

“I’m here,” Sasuke promised. “Any way you want me to be.”

Even though it hurt, knowing the struggle that lay ahead of them, how Naruto had struggled only the past few days.

He wasn’t sure when he’d closed his eyes, but Naruto’s hands holding his face between them made him open them again. His expression was serious, almost solemn.

“I think you’d be happier if you stayed there,” Naruto whispered, searching his eyes. “You can’t deny it. I know they’d take care of you, and I can tell that your bond with your family is important to you. In a different way than ours, but still. I’d forgive you, if you chose them.”

Stop sacrificing yourself, Naruto. I don't like it.

“How could you say that?” Sasuke grabbed Naruto’s wrists, glaring at him. “Even after everything you said about how you can’t be without me, how you’d never choose anything over me, and you still think I would leave you? Even when you can feel my heart, you think I won’t choose you no matter what?”

Sasuke calling him out, as he should.

He knocked their foreheads together, tightening his grip.

“You think I’d choose happiness over you?”

How could he be happy, if Naruto wasn’t there with him? It wasn’t even an option. He cared about Charasuke, that was true. And the other version of Itachi, of Shisui, his family… Even the Sakura of that world. But how could they compare? Losing Charasuke would hurt, but it wouldn’t rip his soul apart. Staying with them would be a life, but it wouldn’t be living. How could Naruto think of himself as selfish, and still be so incredibly selfless when it came to Sasuke? What was he supposed to do, to make Naruto trust him once and for all?

“If I deserve you, why wouldn’t you deserve me in turn?”

Naruto didn’t have an answer to that. Sasuke hadn’t expected him to, and he felt him struggle with the concept. Naruto’s hero complex wasn’t doing either of them any good.

Like, I personally don't like the concept of anyone deserving love or not deserving it. Love is something you give, freely, regardless of how society values the other person. The love you give isn't less worth depending on the person receiving it. But I think the both of them are so traumatized that they need to make peace with this concept. They kind of need to be told - yes, you do deserve love, and I will give it to you. Naruto's hero complex is like... we don't have time to unpack all of that.

“You want to do this the hard way?” Sasuke continued, tone sharp. “I’ll do it with you. I don’t think you’ll succeed but I’ll do it.”

He gathered up all his resolve, all his conviction, pushed aside his own reservations.

“Saying you’ll forgive me… that’s a lie. You wouldn’t. You never would. And I wouldn’t want you to, anyway. If you wanted me by your side and I couldn’t do it, you’d be right to hate me.”

“I could never hate you.”

“Then I’d hate myself.”

Bearing each other's burdens and all that...

Naruto made a face, as if to disagree, but Sasuke felt him smile despite the topic of their conversation.

“What kind of role reversal is this,” he muttered, pressing his thumbs into Sasuke’s cheeks childishly. “I don’t even know why I’m arguing about it.”

“Because you love me.”

They stared at each other. Naruto’s eyes widened in shock, but Sasuke held his ground. What was the point in pretending anything else? It all made sense like this, and perhaps deep down Sasuke had always suspected it, even before he returned to Konoha.

“Y-you can’t just say it out loud!” Naruto spluttered, slapping his hands onto his own face instead, hiding behind them with a groan. “Stop being so smug about it!”

Me, while I wrote this: Yeah, you can't just say that out loud! The pain of being perceived. I am suffering with Naruto.

“I won the argument, didn’t I?”

“Ugh, shut up!”

Feeling lighter, Sasuke wrapped his arms around Naruto, leaning his cheek against the top of his head, Naruto burying his nose in his neck. He’d deny it when they were back in reality, but he could feel that Naruto wanted the body contact, and he was unable to resist it. It didn’t take long for Naruto to calm down, releasing a huff into Sasuke’s neck.

“Maybe we can just stay in this place forever,” he said, sneaking his arms around Sasuke’s back.

“You’d miss ramen too much.”

If an emotional scene doesn't end with a joke, what are you even doing with your life. But writing them hug was like, releasing so many endorphins. I'm weak to it.

It was strange, to talk and immediately feel every thought behind the words, every emotion on full display. Naruto’s amusement radiated off him, and it was his turn to feel a little smug as he concentrated on everything that Sasuke felt for him.

When Naruto started imagining long days spent in bed, Sasuke rolled his eyes and decided they’d been emotional enough for the time being.

Sasuke like, I can accept the lovey-dovey stuff, but I draw a thick line in front of the bedroom door. He's got some work left to do lol.

Idk if any of this made any sense but... there you have it!

[kprciffdw]

Ratchet and Kim Possible Chronicles: The Lombax Secret-Part 14

After another long flight, they were able to arrive at the Kreeli Comet. They landed their ship and got out. Clank: "Ratchet! Miss Possible! Ron! Look!"

They looked out at a major obstruction ahead of them. Clank: "Those pirate ships are blocking our path to IRIS." Kim: "Then we need to find a way to get through them." Ratchet: "Come on, let's get going, guys."

They rushed out towards a line of vicious pirates as fast as they could. They kept going through, fighting off one group of pirates after another. At one point, they came across one particular area that seemed like it could be accessed by pirates. Even more so, there were a lot of pirates within the area. Ron: "Whoa, just look at this place." Kim: "I know. There are a lot of those pirates and it seems like we can't go any further." Ratchet: "Hm…looks like we've hit a serious roadblock, for more reasons than one." Ron: "So what'll we have to do?"

At that moment, the Kimmunicator went off. Kim answered it. Kim: "What is it, Wade?" Wade: "I've managed to put together something from that broken holo-guise that you guys just lent me. Check this out."

With a few clicks of the keyboard, an image of a space pirate appeared before them. Ron: "Whoa, that actually looks really good." Kim: "Amazing." Ratchet: "You've outdone yourself yet again, Wade." Wade: "Well, what can I say? I'm a genius." Ratchet: "Now we can use this to get pass that seemingly impossible impasse."

With the use of the holographic pirate, they were able to get past a lot of places that were pirate exclusive. It really was a long stretch with having to get through a lot of those areas. In addition to having to go through one impasse after another, they were also subjected to fighting a few of their large behemoth members. Ron didn't do much to help out as he was running away screaming at that sight of them, much to the annoyance of the others. Although, they seemed to be use to it. Regardless, they fought through all of them and were able to continue through.

The long trek finally came to an end. They were able to reach the supercomputer. Kim: "So this must be the IRIS supercomputer." Ron: "Hm, it doesn't seem to be working right now." Ratchet: "No, it doesn't. How do you turn this thing on?" Clank: "Hm…it appears to have been damaged by the space pirates. Perhaps I can repair its CPU." Ratchet: "Well, if you think you can do it, then go right ahead."

Clank went into the closed off interiors of the supercomputer and began his trek through. Along the way, he ran into the Zoni again. They helped him out as he navigated his way through the entire chamber. It seemed almost impossible for him to continue on, but with the help of the Zoni, he was able to do it with ease. They then came across some shattered remains of what appeared to be a flat disc-like object. The Zoni were able to put it back together with the use of their telekinesis.

After they were able to fix the object, they showed Clank another vision. It was of Talwyn being held at a prison on another planet. Zoni: "She will perish in Zordoom."

With that, they vanished and Clank was able to return to his friends. The supercomputer was able to turn on. Kim: "Look! It's working!" Ron: "Way to go, Clank!" IRIS: "Hello, Ratchet. I've been expecting you." Ron: "Whoa! The computer can talk!" Kim: "That's not all, it knew Ratchet's name and…it's been expecting him?" Ratchet: "Uh…OK? IRIS, what can you tell us about the Dimensionator?" IRIS: "The Dimensionator, created by the Lombax Architects of Breegus Minor. Its creation marked the turning point in the Great War." Kim: "Yeah, that much we know, but what does it do exactly?" IRIS: "Existence is divided into infinite dimensions. The Dimensionator opens a portal to these worlds. The Lombaxes constructed this device to exile the Cragmites." Kim: "So the Cragmites weren't vaporized like many people thought." Ron: "But what about Tachyon? How come he hadn't been exiled just like the rest of his kind?" IRIS: "Percival Tachyon. Discovered by Lombax Trillium Miners eons after the war. He was frozen in an egg exactly where we are now and raised on Fastoon." Kim: "The Lombaxes…raised Tachyon?" Ron: "Hmph! Well that guy sure didn't show any appreciation towards them!"

Rufus popped out and let out a raspberry. Rufus: "Tachyon!" IRIS: "When he learned of his origins, he set out to bring back the Cragmites." Ron: "He's going to do what!?!" Kim: "Isn't he aware of how dangerous that is?" Ratchet: "Obviously, he couldn't care less." Kim: "IRIS, do you know where the Dimensionator is?" IRIS: "An explorer named Max Apogee relocated it to Kerchu City." Kim: "Max Apogee…Talwyn's…dad…"

Just then, IRIS began to shut down. Ron: "What…what's happening!?!" IRIS: "Power cells functioning at 8% capacity…8%…" Ratchet: "No! Wait! Where did the Lombaxes go? Why did they leave me behind?" IRIS: "Thank you for visiting IRIS. Please don't forget to validate…"

IRIS ceased functioning completely. Ratchet was left despondent. Ron went over to try and comfort him, but Ratchet didn't seem to want him to. Kim: "Guess we'll have to find out the rest on our own." Ratchet: "Yeah…seems like it…we need to get to Kerchu City." Ron: "Rightio, Ratchet! We need to get our hands on that Dimensionator…" Clank: "Hold on a moment. A wormhole device is too dangerous for anyone to possess." Ron: "Um…OK? So…what do you suppose we do?" Clank: "Well, first off, the Zoni mentioned to me that Talwyn is in trouble. We need to make our way to Zordoom; that is where she is being held." Ron: "Uh…you OK…Clank?"

Kim checked on the Kimmunicator. Ratchet: "Uh…right…maybe you should listen to your real friends instead of your imaginary ones." Ron: "Whoa! Time out! Since when did Clank start having imaginary friends?" Ratchet: "Since Stratus City, now, come on, let's get out of here!"

Ratchet was about to walk out. Ron just stood by, Kim was still checking on the Kimmunicator. Ron: "Hey, wait a sec, Ratchet!"

Ratchet stopped and turned back around to face Ron. Ratchet: "What is it, this time, Ron?" Ron: "Uh, let's just humor Clank for a bit. Let's say that he's right about the Zoni and Talwyn being held at this Zordoom place. We should head over there and rescue her or…you know…check…to see if…she…actually…is…there…?"

Ron made a nervous grin, Ratchet stared back at him with an irritated look on his face. Ratchet: "Ron, you're being ridiculous; like more than usual." Ron: "Ratchet…" Kim: "I say we go for it. All in favor of heading for Zordoom?"

Ron and Clank both raised their hands, Kim did the same. Ratchet: "(grunt) Fine! We'll heed what Clank said and go to Zordoom!" Kim: "If it makes you feel any better, I'll have Wade do a scan on our way there to verify if Talwyn is actually there."

Ratchet seemed even more aggravated. Ratchet: "Whatever!"

He then continued towards the exit. Kim folded her arms and shook her head as she looked back at him with an angry look on her face. Clank: "Thank you both for standing up for me. I know what I am saying is very unorthodox, but I assure you that what I have been saying truly is sincere." Ron: "Hey, don't sweat it, Clank. I believe you. I mean, you being wrong about anything is almost as unusual as…as…" Clank: "You missing Naco Night?" Ron: "Exactly!" Kim: "I also believe you, Clank, especially the parts about the Zoni. Wade has been picking up on a number of unusual readings for a while now. They've been happening around the same time that you have been mentioning the Zoni; this can't be a coincidence." Clank: "Oh, but it is not; I am positive that they are from the Zoni." Kim: "And you have every right to say that. I would be surprised if these readings weren't from them, otherwise…where would they be coming from?"

They seemed perplexed as they thought for a while. They then returned to the ship along with Ratchet. They got back into it and left for their next destination.

[touchstarvedsam]

warning: major character death, set during when the levee breaks, demon blood detox gone wrong, based solely on dean’s “then at least he dies human” line

The banging on the walls stopped completely and Sam’s screams and cries for Dean died down to silence. After hours of Sam’s agonized crying, the silence was deafening. Dean and Bobby shared a look of concern before the two of them rushed down to the panic room, booted feet thunking heavily on the wooden steps. The metal door creaked when it opened and Dean pushed past Bobby to get to Sam.

His little brother was lying on the floor, drenched in sweat, convulsing. Sam’s mouth was agape as he tried to gasp for breath. It was one of the most terrifying things Dean had ever seen in his life, second only to watching Sam get stabbed right in front of him. The day he lost Sam in Cold Oak, South Dakota was like losing a part of himself. Watching the color drain out of his baby brother’s face as he bled out on the muddy ground in Dean’s arms, his head lolling against Dean’s shoulder, is not something Dean will ever be able to forget. He hasn’t felt worse pain since.

Until now.

Getting torn to shreds by the hellhounds couldn’t hold a candle to watching Sammy die right before his eyes, right in his arms. But this… this was something completely different. This was like watching someone you know become a stranger. A part of Sam that Dean has never seen before; this broken little boy sweating through his clothes, violent tremors wracking his frame. Sam felt like a stranger to Dean the past several months, drinking demon blood, sneaking around with the demon skank Ruby and becoming everything he swore he wouldn’t. Sam was becoming everything he made Dean promise to kill him for two years prior and Dean didn’t want to think about right now. Dean couldn’t think about that right now.

Sam grew up a good kid; kept his nose clean, did his homework, only got into fights when he was sticking up for himself. He never gave in to peer pressure, never did drugs or drank alcohol. Dean couldn’t account for the four years Sam was away at Stanford, but Dean had always had faith in his little brother to make the right choices.

He lied that day, in the historic inn they stayed at in Connecticut when Sam was drunk and begging Dean to promise to kill him. Dean lied when he made that promise, but here he is lying to himself because Sam is dying right before his eyes, again, and it’s all Dean’s fault.

The only thing Dean could honestly admit to himself that he loved, with his entire heart and soul, was his little brother. He’s never said it aloud and he regrets that now. He regrets the words he said to Bobby a little more than an hour before this.

No. I’m not giving him demon blood.

And if he dies?

Kneeling beside Sam’s trembling form, he cups the back of Sam’s head. He’s soaked to the bone, hair matted to his neck, stuck to his forehead, clinging to his sweaty cheeks. Dean pushes it away gently, cradling Sam’s head in his lap as he shushes him. Pets his hair. Holds him.

He closes his eyes, tries to block out the last thing he’d said before this. Bobby is somewhere behind him, saying something that Dean can’t hear over the sound of his own heartbeat and the lack of Sam’s.

Then at least he dies human!

A cool, wet cloth is handed to Dean as a tear falls from his eye and lands on Sam’s flushed cheek. It starts to trickle down but in the end just evaporates with the heat coming off Sam’s body. Dean’s logical mind tells him that Sam’s already gone, that what’s happening now -- the wretched croak fighting its way out of Sam’s throat -- is just a death knell for the inevitable. Sam’s body is too hot, his fever has to have gone well above 107 degrees. Even if they could cool him down…

“Ice bath,” Dean croaks, gripping tighter to Sam’s still shoulders. The heat radiating through his shirt tells him everything he needs to know, yet he refuses to stop fighting.

He can fix this. He can fix Sam.

“Son,” he hears Bobby’s voice -- next to him but distant, so close but coming from a completely different dimension -- as a hand lands on his shoulder. “There’s nothing we can do, son. He’s--”

“Don’t,” Dean growls. He sits Sam up and pulls himself and Sam’s dead -- not dead -- weight to their feet, supporting his little brother like he should have been all this time. “It’s okay, Sammy,” he coos into his brother’s unhearing ear, smoothing his sticky hair from his face. “It’s okay, baby boy, I got you, okay? I got you.” He half carries, half drags Sam through the panic room door, ignoring Bobby’s pitying look as he passes him. “You’re gonna be just fine, kiddo.”

Half of Sam’s weight is taken from Dean as Bobby slips Sam’s other arm over his shoulders. At Dean’s astounded look, he says, “You’re gonna need help carryin’ him up the stairs, ain’t ya, ya idjit?” Dean’s so grateful he could start crying. But he’s going to save the rest of his tears when he yells at Sam for scaring him like this.

Together, they haul Sam up the stairs and to the bathroom, his feet thunking against each step as they pull him. Dean sits Sam on the toilet, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him against the wall then lets him go once he’s sure he won’t fall. “Get some ice, Bobby,” he says gruffly, bending down to turn on the faucet of the bath. “We gotta cool him down.” The water is already cold, but he needs to get Sam’s temperature down. He can’t be too careful here; if he doesn’t cool Sam down now…

He shakes his head and turns back to his completely still brother. Sam’s no longer trembling, his shivers ceased entirely and Dean’s in denial. He refuses to believe he’s losing Sam. He won’t lose Sam. Not today. Not ever.

“Don’t worry, Sammy,” Dean says, “Big brother’s gotcha.”

Bobby returns with a gallon sized bucket of ice; it’s not a lot but it’s better than nothing. They don’t have time to hit a convenience store for 10lbs of ice. As Bobby dumps the ice into the bathtub, watching Dean with a look of sadness and pity on his face, Dean continues talking to Sam. “See? You’re gonna be just fine, kiddo. Right?” He wraps an arm around Sam’s waist and hoists him back up. “C’mon, Sammy, into the bath. You never liked ice baths, did you?” he muses as Bobby steps in to help Dean on Sam’s other side. “Remember when you were little, maybe about 9 or 10, and you had a fever so high… Dad was on a hunt about eight hours away and I didn’t know what to do…

“God, Sam, I broke the lock off the ice machine at the hotel we were in and filled the ice bucket probably about six times -- just goin’ back and forth running with that bucket, sweatin’ my ass off -- and when I put you in that bath you started screaming… I felt so bad, baby, but I needed your fever to go down.” They each grab a thigh and swing Sam’s legs over the edge of the tub before gently lowering him into the ice cold water. Sam doesn’t make a sound. Not a whine, a whimper, a sigh. He doesn’t cry like he did when they were kids and Dean frowns, knowing but refusing to acknowledge it out loud.

He can’t.

“Dean--”

Dean knows. He does. But he- he can’t.

He knows that Sam’s fever had already gone down, well before the ice bath, his body rapidly cooling with the lack of blood flow. Sam’s heart stopped pumping before they even got him up the stairs. Sam’s gone, and despite Sam being in a bath of ice water, Dean’s the one that’s cold all over.

“Dean,” Bobby repeats, strangely soft for a gruff man of his age. This whole scenario is reminiscent of Dean sitting beside Sam’s dead body on that dirty mattress in that husk of a house. Sam looked like he was sleeping then; Dean was able to pretend he was, until he couldn’t anymore. But here- here Sam doesn’t. His cheeks are still red from overexertion, from the detox, from his body being literally put through the ringer. They left him alone in that room, in pain, locked up like a prisoner and forced him to go through something none of them knew anything about.

Dean had forced Sam to go through that. God, if he had only listened to Bobby.

No telling how long it’ll take. Hell, or if Sam will even live through it.

His eyes sting and he furiously wipes at them. This hurts more than Cold Oak, because this one is all on Dean. He’s never going to forgive himself, never going to get over the pain.

“I’m sorry, little brother.”

He stands on shaky legs that feel like they’ve never been used before. Bobby hesitates behind him, whispers, “You’re not gonna--”

“Make a deal?” Dean asks bitterly, a sarcastic laugh bubbling out from his chest. “No, I’m not. I’m gonna go kill that demon skank, and any other black-eyed sons of bitches that get in my way.” And then I’m going to drink myself into oblivion and hope to meet Sam on the other side, if he’ll have me.

He doesn’t tell Bobby goodbye, but then again, he thinks Bobby already knows that this is goodbye. Let Lucifer rise, he thinks, let some other sad bastards fix the world. Sam’s dead, so Dean might as well be, too.

[codylabs]

My Top 10 Ships

I’m not a very romantic sort of guy, I’m not real forgiving to departures from canon, I get easily annoyed at inconsistencies, and I don’t watch much television and movies, so in order for me to ship something, it has to be a GOOD ship. I default toward rejecting ships, so to impress ME, it must be built on logic, and evidence, it’s gotta be something I can suspend my disbelief far enough to accept. And it’s gotta have story behind it, something deep, some hefty emotional weight; if it doesn’t tickle this man’s cold reptilian heart with strong beats and excellent writing, it goes straight to the trash. I absoLUTELY will not stand for any of these weird little cute, pretty, pandering, trashy crack ships that everybody seems to be clumsily throwing characters into. Most ships are trash ships. They are not good ships.

You think your ship is good? You like your ship?

You ship it?

No you don’t.

Get out of here.

You will listen to me. I will tell you. Look at me. I’m the Captain now.

Here are the 10 good ships.

10. The Rocinante, The Expanse

A resoundingly excellent ship. Unlike most ships you see out there, this thing was actually designed with realistic space combat in mind. It’s got 6 computer-controlled gatling turrets covering every angle, it accelerates in whatever direction it’s pointing, its bridge is right in the center to put as much armor as possible between enemies and crew, overall a much better-designed vehicle than most everything you see about.

That being said, I didn’t have much connection to this ship. Its crew weren’t really interesting, the aesthetic was kinda bleak, and I basically stopped watching after the phazon showed up. And the Rocinante itself has pretty poor redundancy. Enemy bullets can literally just pass through it (as is realistic for a ship this size) so how about multiple main engines huh? Absolutely tragic oversight. And its interior looks too much like an Apple product. How are you supposed to work on it? Where are the wires and pipes??? The handholds?????

9. Ares IV M.A.V., The Martian

Almost more of a symbol than a ship. A symbol of freedom, of escape. A beautiful symbol. This is what Mark Watney spends the whole movie trying to reach, with an entire world backing him up, and an entire world trying to stop him. It’s the goal of the movie, and it just looks so beautiful when he finally reaches it and sees it sitting there in the middle of the desert, ass down, nose up; a tall, proud symbol. This ship has a special significance for me because the author of the original book really did his research on the scientific requirements and details of a Mars Ascent Vehicle, and it was actually inspired by the E.R.V. in another book, ‘A Case For Mars’, which I read when I was younger. “Makes its own methane-oxygen fuel on-site by using nuclear power to break down CO2 in the atmosphere and combining it with stored hydrogen, don’t you know.” I say as I adjust my spectacles and puff my pipe.

The M.A.V. in the movie does have a few issues, such as hallway and rooms running straight up through where the fuel tanks ought to be (instead of a lift/ladder on the exterior) and a rugged, industrial aesthetic that looks too heavy and cumbersome for a ship of its type. (And you’re seriously telling me he couldn’t have used the capsule’s RCS to literally bypass the movie’s entire climax? WHY NOT? The book never mentioned him having to drain the monopropellant!!!) But I’ll let that slide. Great movie.

8. Biggest Boy, The Greatship

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name. You know what, I think it’s actually just called the Greatship.)

So it’s a starship the size of Jupiter, empty, unmanned, perfectly mysterious, that comes gliding into the galaxy a couple million years into humanity’s future. Where did it come from? Who made it and how? Good questions. It’s powered by matter-antimatter annihilation reactions from within planet-sized internal tanks, and its engines use hydrogen and fusion exhaust as reaction mass, and its hull is made of hyperfiber, a super-strong fictional material with a 4-dimensional lattice structure, able to weather impacts by spreading them out over various dimensions where the impact occurred in a different place.

I hope that after the first few entries, you didn’t get the impression that I am somehow against futuristic, far-out, impossible technologies. Quite the opposite! I love me some hyperdrive and anti-gravity and A.I. and stuff. However! Ships must be well-designed for the technology available, and must take no creative liberties except those explicitly allowed by the difference in the setting. The laws of physics don’t disappear when the magic crystals come out, the magic crystals are merely a different tool to combat them. Engineering will always exist, should start with the tools and work outward, form follows function. Star Wars ships, for instance, are trash because they don’t mount their repulsorlift arrays consistently, they’re not aerodynamic, and their engines aren’t aligned around their center of masses.

So I like the Great Ship. Although the story is pretty far-fetched, and a lot of crazy, out-there scifi events transpire deep in the ship’s depths, the book always strictly kept its own rules in mind, and never broke those rules, no matter how outlandishly crazy things got. Thanks for comprehending something so incomprehensible, Robert Reed. You inspired me miles in my own work.

7. The Ghost, The Sea Wolf

The story may be fiction, but the Ghost was as real as ghosts can be.

Jack London did his research. No, not research, he LIVED this. The Ghost is a seal-hunting schooner much like one that he served aboard during his rollercoaster of a life, and he captured every detail of its operation, of its requirements, of its mechanics, and of the incredible toll it took on the people that lived such a life. The boat is made to feel as oppressive and claustrophobic as a prison, as if it were an extension of the monster that commanded it, directly in contrast to the expansive beauty of the sea around them. My goodness, what a beautiful book. What a moving, interesting, challenging book, with such a story! This book is one of the climaxes of fiction, and one of the inspirations for Shifting Sands, if I remember correctly. I would recommend this book to anybody. Beautiful.

6. Ferbnessa, Phineas and Ferb

Okay, so I hope we can all agree that Vanessa is nothing but bad news. But that being said, Ferb knows exactly the relationship he wants, and by golly, he goes for it. Most male characters would stutter or get nervous or lose confidence around their crush, especially if that crush is about a hundred miles out of their league or if they already had another boyfriend, but Ferb? No. Not my man Ferb. He’s slighly too much of a legend to fall for such childish pitfalls. He doesn’t posture, he doesn’t creep or flirt or try to sabotage the other men in her life, he doesn’t even speak a word, he just maintains his blank expression, cranks his own already-inhuman levels of confidence and competence up through the roof to borderline olympian levels, and continues being himself. These rare moments of Ferbly passion are some of the few open windows we get into the grandiose machinations of his mysterious mind, and he uses it to bring out the best in Vanessa as well. And in the future episode, set years down the line, wouldn’t you know it, they’re a pair.

All joking aside though, this whole ship is basically comedy. It’s a super small part of the show, it’s only in like 5 episodes, it’s a running gag, it’s hilarious. It’s great. And it fits right into the tone and the feel of the show, because P&F’s entire world really is a comedy about going for it and living your dreams. So this is just the best thing ever. It’s been about a decade since then, and I still burst out laughing at how much of a pristine picture of ideal masculinity Ferb is. Become like Ferb, boys, and you will become men.

Legendary.

Eat your heart out, Dipper.

3. Shunk, Voltron

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

Huge props to the voltron team for making a female alien character (even a romantic interest) with NO BOOBS. Do you have ANY idea how sick and tired I am of artists throwing a big ol’ pair of balonkadongs onto lobsters and snakes when almost everything in the real world besides folks and cows have either 0 or 8+ of them? Everything’s gotta be traditionally sexy and recognizably-feminine and GREAT now you just canonized all the porn! Disgusteg

but now look at Shay. She’s a rock person. She’s got silicon-based biology, she probably weighs 500 lbs and bleeds sand. She’s got enormous hands and weird knees and no nose and lumps everywhere, AND YET STILL the show plays all the tropes 100% straight with her being a fair young maiden and a sweet princess. And it works because Hunk is just this great guy who’s exactly as sweet and caring, and he’s not the most attractive of the Paladins either, so he probably lives his life looking past appearances. He doesn’t care that she’s an alien rock, he cares about her as a person, and she obviously worships him right back. Even though Shay is shown in season 1 and then never again until season 7, Hunk still avoids alternative romantic entanglements, citing ‘a rock I know’, and it just adds to his persona as this infinitely loyal teddy bear. I tip my hat to this, the single ship I know that’s 0% sexy and 100% wholesome.

And Hunk is the best Paladin. He’s just the greatest. I revere him. I salute him as he walks past. This man among men. Look at this guy. I don’t even care about any of the other ships in Voltron (I mean, the Castle of Lions is okay, but it’s outriggers are kinda spindly) but Hunk and Shay deserve each other.

4. Wendip, Gravity Falls

So Dipper’s 12/13, and Wendy’s 15. That’s a pretty giant age difference. Maybe you fans have fooled yourselves into thinking it’s not, but it is. She knows it. He knows it. His sister knows it. Your mom knows it. So halfway through the show, when he finally got around to confessing his feelings to her, she told him no. Sure they’re still friends, sure they like each other, and sure they have a lot of chemistry and they still have a movie night every Friday, but at the end of the day, he’s a smelly little midget who has to go back to California at the end of the Summer, and she’s a older girl with approximately zero romantic feelings for him. So the notion that it could work out is pretty obvious to everyone, and especially to him, pretty much hopeless. And he really did handle it all pretty poorly and immaturely too, he objectified her and stalked her and simped up a storm and sabotaged her boyfriend, so perhaps he deserved what he got. Perhaps it’s better this way.

And yet.

And yet Wendy never really got a happy ending in the show. And Dipper never got a conclusive romance either. So after everything, it’s easy to think about it how he thinks about it, by wondering how things could have been, if everything were just so slightly different, if she’d said yes or if they united again. She wishes she could be younger, he wishes he could be older. She’s more dominant, he’s more recessive. She has a lot of serious issues in her life, and could really seriously use a driven, heroic, intelligent friend to help her out, give her purpose, and steer her right. And Lord knows he could use somebody with street smarts and actual muscles to have his back now and again. They complement each other perfectly. They make up for each others’ weaknesses. They’re everything they ever wanted from another, and if you do the math, their children would be actual literal supersoldiers.

Or at least that’s the way a lot of people see it. There’s been immeasurable mountains of fanfiction and fanart from people who are just so sad that in a show full of happy endings and dreams coming true and old regrets being resolved and children growing up, that one ending would never be happy, one dream would never come to pass, one regret would stick with you forever, one child would never grow up. Maybe if you extrapolate out the story they’d end up together? Or maybe they’d find other, better partners? Maybe romance isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things, and this is the best ending there could have been? Perhaps, perhaps not. But in any case, there’s a lot of very rich storytelling potential for the untold journey before them, and for the paths that could have been.

Stop drawing fetish art of Wendy, you insufferable heathen actual donkeys.

3. Kataang, Avatar: The Last Airbender

Now HERE’S a serious relationship. Not just a romantic ship, (though it is that,) not just some cutesy, funny thing or some ship-war fodder, (though it is cute and funny and did spawn a ship-war,) not just a matter of certainty and destiny, (though it is certain and was destined,) this is a real, TANGIBLE relationship, that these characters built together over a solid year of on-screen adventuring and fighting. They’ve helped each other through trauma, they’ve been there for each other in their darkest moments, they learned martial-arts together, they’ve fought back-to back against grown men, they’ve worked front-to-front sawing through steel girders, they’ve saved each other’s lives, he once ACTUALLY DIED and she brought him BACK. They end up respecting each other, and valuing each other in the intimate way that only true friends do.

And they’re shown working through all their imperfections and mistakes too. Aang sometimes oversteps boundaries and says stupid stuff because he’s a kid, and Katara sometimes scolds him and controls him because she’s motherly and orderly, they get jealous of each other, but none of those things drive them apart, and they deal with them, and they conquer them, and they keep a very legitimate and multi-faceted friendship going, and that’s the key to it all. The fact that this friendship becomes romance is just proof that it was a friendship of quality.

I think people tend to overlook or forget this ship because the last few episodes of the show found them in a pretty dark place, needing to deal with matters of life and death and justice in very different ways, and unlike all their other issues, we don’t really get to see them reconciling these differences before the story ends, which kind of leaves a sour taste between them. And Katara goes on a couple missions with Zuko around the same time, so now half of all people want Zutara, when in actuality, Zutara is a trash ship, which is a true science fact.

2. Serenity, Firefly

Only reason this ship isn’t #1 is because it isn’t constructed using a proper aerospace philosophy; it’s made of bulky machinery and steel beams and chunky plates, it looks more like an ocean vessel from the inside, and is WAY too big for its 6-12 person crew and light cargo capacity. Plus it doesn’t have any room for fuel and its got no wheels on its landing legs and no downward-facing windows and its reactor is just too dang SMOL and its engines are attached too flimsily. This all wouldn’t be too much of an issue if they were going for a far-future aesthetic, but if you’re trying to do something grounded and semi-contemporary, you need to lose some weight girl, I’m sorry.

But by gosh does it make up for it in heart. The entire inside of this ship was mapped out and made on set, with so many homely little decorations and touches to make every room feel like the person who inhabits it, sterile professional blue for the doc’s medbay, warm happy red for Kaylee’s engine room, all-serious-business-but-also-plastic-dinos for Wash’s cockpit... It hit me hard when this baby it crashed in the movie, and it felt almost real when River pretended to mind-meld with it. This ship has more soul in one buffer panel than most shows have in the entire cast, enough to make it seem like its own character, even in a show crowded with charming characters. I love this ship intimately, even if I would have built it differently.

1. Colonial Vessel 46.18′\, Gravity Falls

(I don’t know the ship name so I had to make up a name)

You didn’t think I’d leave out this one, did you? After all the fanfiction I’ve written? This is basically my ship at this point. Anyway, enough about me; the vessel beneath Crash Site Omega really is the quintessential alien ship; its perfectly cliche flying-saucer design taps into all the audience’s pre-existing fanciful notions and imaginings and disbelief-suspension, meanwhile its presentation isn’t cliche or fanciful in the slightest. 

There’s not much to say about it from a technical standpoint, besides personal musings: it would need anti-gravity to stay airborne without thrusters, it would need a FTL drive to cross the distances it did, its drones would need to be made of some kind of semi-liquid to move like they do... But these sort of out-of-the-box, never-before-seen, world-expanding brain-knocks are exactly what makes this ship special. It’s an alien ship, built with technology unknown to people, forged from materials that people don’t possess, and inhabited by beings we will never meet. For all we know, this ship could be perfectly sound from an engineering standpoint, and no engineer in the audience could claim to prove it otherwise, because unlike something like the T.A.R.D.I.S., they never try and fail to explain it away with science buzzwords or canonize its details or show off some fancy glowy reactor. This ancient husk is left as a yawning pit in reason, and that’s beautiful.

Moreover, this ship is an amazingly powerful narrative tool, and a mind-blowing surprise to drop in as a setpiece during the show’s final episodes. This ship embodies everything that made the show’s mysteries special: the evidence presented so early and so consistently, the creativity in creature design, action, and worldbuilding, the yawning depths of unknowable lore, and most of all the burning, unquenched desire to know more... The imprint this ship made in the cliffs over the town has been hanging over the characters’ heads the entire series, and its hull was below their feet from day one, so when they finally revealed it, and explored it, it felt invigorating. Rewarding. This ship, and the glorious feelings and thoughts it represents, have inspired to no end, and haven’t ended yet.

Honorable mentions:

Westley and Buttercup, The Princess Bride

Ooooh man I tell you what, it was really hard trimming this down to 10 for the list, and this one just barely didn’t make the cut, and that mainly because I have a sweet spot for animation and for warrior women, and this sweetness ain’t animated, and this damsel is as distressed as they get. And they don’t have a whole lot of chemistry? I don’t know how to measure that, but I feel like there was a lot of friendship stated that was never shown? Is it sacrilege to say that about True Love? I guess I’ve never exactly had True Love, so what do I know?

The entire plot centers around his devotion to her, and her love for him, and the lengths they go to for one another. He studies fencing and wrestling and wits and tactics for years on a pirate ship as he tried to return to her, and she refused the advances and the offers of an actual prince for as long as she could, even though she thought him dead, and was ready to kill herself when she knew him to be alive and not to be hers. And just such excellent action and characters and humor and story in the entire book surrounding it. Possibly an even better movie, somehow. Happy happy happy happy. They don’t make movies like this no more, why is that? Sad.

Endurance, Interstellar

Actually a pretty realistic design, all considering. They nailed the aesthetic, and the cinematography, and the feel.

It does lose points though, firstly because the shuttlecraft require a booster stage to make it into orbit when leaving Earth, but for the rest of the movie, whenever they’re landing on planets with similar gravity and atmosphere, they can just fly away like it’s no big deal, which is a big inconsistency, both with real life, and more importantly with itself. And how did an under-equipped and struggling space program put this thing in orbit in the first place, anyway? And why don’t their ships land on their asses like proper rockets? And why not tell the crew members the full plan before leaving? See, it’s little things like that, little inconsistencies made for the sake of fitting with story beats and simplifying it for the audience’s sake, that sours this ship for me. I don’t mind creative liberties, but actual plot holes? This thing has a few plot holes, and plot holes are absolutely yucky. So although most of this ship is very yummy, the yucky parts make it all yucky.

Yucky.

Plus its heavy cargo shuttles are about the least-aerodynamic things imaginable, and that’s also yucky, and there’s porcelain tiles in the stasis bay, like what?

Couldashouldawoulda been yummy.

The Hermes, The Martian

This ship. This friggin’ ship.

A beautiful ship. A well-conceived ship. A mathematically sound and engineered ship. It had so many many good ideas behind it. So much math went into calculating its thrust and orbital dynamics for this movie, so much work went into making it fit a contemporary space aesthetic, the panels, the heat sinks, the tanks, so much PRESENTATION I could KISS IT HMWA, but taken as a whole, engineering-wise, the whole ship falls flat on its face, because it just doesn’t fit together. It doesn’t make sense. Look at all those countless modules along its length. What do they do? They don’t do anything! It’s a quarter mile long, and it’s built for only 6 people? It’s meant to carry a lander? Where does the lander dock? Why are the useful airlocks so far off the center of gravity? Why does it have a cockpit? Why is the forward airlock so looooong? Why is the entire ship so loooooong? Why is the ring spinning so slowly? It’s not hard math to figure out how fast it needs to spin! You’re telling me you did ORBITAL DYNAMICS but not the SINGLE physics 101 equation needed to figure out how fast the ring needs to spin??

Btw, let’s talk about that rotating section in the middle! Think about the rotating section! That rotating section means that the front and the back of the ship aren’t actually connected! There’s just a pair of ring-shaped slip-slidey bearings bridging the ship’s middle, slip-slidey bearings that electricity, computer signals, and water and air pipes can’t cross. Why did they design it that way?? In the book the entire ship spun, which makes so much more sense! Why does it have solar panels when it has a reactor canonically capable of 40 times their output? Why are the fuel tanks so small? Why is it always facing prograde even when canonically burning retrograde? Why? WHY? BLRRRRGGGGGRGGGRGGG

In Conclusion, Ships Are Neat

[that-one-girl-behind-you]

Illicio 11/?

Part 10

Gerry gives a dry, humorless snort as he sits up on the chair, and Jon lets go of his face to give him more movement. "It's- she was fond of me, she says." Jon stiffens, when Gerry's forehead lands softy on his stomach. "Where was that when she was making my page?"

"...I don't know." Jon whispers, bringing his arms to rest across Gerry's shoulders. "I- there are a lot of things I don't understand about her."

Gerry's arms tighten around his waist. "Of course. Night and day." His voice is muffled against Jon's sweatert, his breath filtering through the fabric, searing hot against Jon's skin.

"You loved her." Jon says, not really asking what he already knows.

"It didn't matter, in the end." Gerry snorts again. It sounds like it did. Like it does.

XI

The fact that the Institute building is so beautiful when it holds so much horror is both very fitting and very jarring, Georgie thinks.

Once you know what you're looking for, you can see the subtle eyes carved amongst the leafy motifs wrapping around the exterior pillars, and the unnerving gaze of the rounded window above the double oak doors.

She doesn't go too close despite the pouring rain, preferring instead to lean against a lamppost across the street and text Melanie that she's already there. This is how she gets a first row seat, partly hidden behind her large umbrella, when Jonathan Sims comes down the street towards this terrible place.

With him is a man she's heard plenty about, tall and broad-shouldered, with long black hair and blue-green eyes. The hand he's not using to hold an umbrella above their heads is deep inside the pocket of Jon's coat, along with his own; Jon is leaning against his arm in that way Georgie knows means he wants you to hold him closer.

That last thought draws a sigh out of her, as the two men draw closer to the Institute. Jon has always been a complicated subject, but he's so much more so lately. Georgie loves him, but she's also terribly aware that every time she allows herself to care, she comes out burned. Just earlier this year she had to sit by his bedside wondering if he would ever wake up again, and if it would really be better if he did.

They seem to be saying goodbye now, and Georgie can feel the tension from here. Jon is tilting his chin up and slightly to the side, but also leaning slightly away from the man, who's leaning towards Jon, but retreats after a moment, taking a deep breath. Jon lets their hands fall apart as he climbs the steps towards the Institute. The man watches him disappear behind the door, and Georgie starts crossing the street.

"Hey." The man doesn't flinch at her voice, and Georgie wonders if he knew she was watching. "You're Jon's Gerry, right?"

The man snorts with a hint of resigned humor. "Yeah. I guess that's the only of putting it. You're Georgie?"

"The very one." Georgie nods. "Melanie has told me about you."

"Has she? I'm almost afraid to ask." Gerry smiles at the name, and Georgie finds herself mirroring it. "You look well. Jon will be happy to know."

Georgie sighs. "Actually... please don't tell him you saw me."

"Oh?" Gerry arches an eyebrow.

"I don't- we're not really talking anymore." Georgie shrugs. It's painful to say aloud, because Jon grows on you, with his rare smiles and his quiet gestures of love. Every time she lets him back in, it's a battle to rip him out.

"Huh. I thought he'd stayed with you last year while-"

"While the police looked for him, yes." Georgie crosses her free arm over her chest.

"That's... you do know he didn't do it, don't you?" Gerry frowns.

"Wouldn't have let him into my house if I didn't believe him. I just-" Georgie's gaze drifts towards the Institute. While it -like anything else, really- doesn't inspire any fear in her, she can hardly ignore what she knows about it. "I don't really approve of his decision to stay involved in all of this."

Before her, Gerry stiffens. "Excuse me, his what?" His eyes harden.

Georgie scoffs. "I'm not sure how long you've been here for, but Jon is very self destructive."

"Oh no, trust me, I know." The man shakes his head, and Georgie knows there's a story there. "But calling it his 'decision' is-"

"Listen, I'm not interested in discussing it," Georgie says, shaking her head. "I saw Jon recording his creepy stories even when he didn't have to, when I asked him to stop, and now Melanie's trapped here because-"

"Because you brought her here," the man snarls, and Georgie freezes.

"Excuse me?" she asks, her voice low and dangerous.

"Wasn't it you who told her where to give her statement? You're flinging a lot of bullshit accusations around for someone who doesn't even know-"

"Georgie?" Melanie's voice drips down on them colder than any rain could be. "Gerry? What's going on?"

Gerry's face does soften when he looks at Melanie, who descends the stairs and slips her hand into Georgie's like a reverse of the scene she just witnessed from across the street.

"Nothing. You should talk to her." He turns around then, and starts the walk back up the street, without a single look back.

"...What happened?" Melanie asks, squeezing her hand and looking up at her with a frown.

Georgie forces her body to relax, the man's last accusation still echoing in her mind. She looks back at Melanie, taking in the worried curve of her brows, the raindrops shimmering in her hair, the bags under her eyes from the nightmares. She loves her, Georgie thinks, she has for a while. Was this really all her fault?

"Melanie?"

"Yes?"

Georgie knows, really, that it is her ignorance as well as her lack of fear that has kept her somewhat safe from this world her loved ones move in; it's becoming increasingly difficult though, to stay that way. "I need you to tell me everything."

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

"What are you thinking?" Melanie asks, reaching a hand to intertwine their fingers together. "It's a lot to take in."

"It's true." Georgie looks down at her cold, untouched meal, replaying Melanie's story in her mind. "If I hadn't suggested you give Jon your statement-"

"Elias would have found me some other way," Melanie says immediately. "I- it's not even like I was marked already when I first came to the Institute. I think what really matters is that I came back, once I was. It's- really, nobody forced me to go around looking for more ghosts, Georgie. I just had to know. The Eye... it really is subtle."

Georgie runs a hand through her hair. This is- all of this, it's too much. "Is there really no way to stop it?"

Melanie pokes at her own half-eaten panini. "Not- I mean, I'm not controlled by the Slaughter anymore. But I signed the contract. That's- as far as we know, we're trapped in there. Jon says he and Daisy sort of were human again when they were in the coffin, but that's another dimension. I don't think there's a way to break it, not while we're alive."

She mulls this over for a moment. So... so Jon wasn't just being difficult when he said he couldn't stop recording the statements, or when he got his hand burnt. He- it's like all the frustration she's been harboring towards him the past year has congealed into a viscous, disgusting knot at the bottom of her stomach.

'You don't even have the credentials to be the head archivist', Georgie had said. It's terrible to know that that's probably the reason why Jon was offered the job in the first place. Jon, who's always doubted himself, and overcompensates by throwing himself head-first into things. Almost too easy, like throwing a stray dog a sausage stuffed with crushed glass, and watching it die painfully because it gave in to the need to eat.

"You don't have to just... like him again, you know?" Melanie reaches out to lay her hand on Georgie's. "I don't. I just- this is Elias' game."

And yet the only thought in Georgie's mind is that she left the hospital room without saying goodbye, and the dozens of unread texts and ignored calls in her phone. The fact that they stopped coming, when it became clear they weren't well-received.

"I- let's talk of something else, please," Georgie mutters, nearly begs. Were the nights on her sofa the last peaceful rest Jon had? "Did- did I show you this picture of-"

"Georgie, you're shaking-" Melanie mutters, and Georgie's voice cracks. "I- tell me what's wrong. Please."

But she can't, can she? Distancing from Jon was the right decision, even he probably agrees with that. Still, Georgie can't get rid of the feeling that Jon was reaching out a hand while he drowned, and she just watched him go under.

"I just- I need a moment. Please."

She doesn't look up when Melanie moves her chair beside her, but Georgie does lean into her embrace. This at least she's sure of.

"All the time you need." Melanie says, patient in a way Georgie knows is non-existent with anyone else. "I'm here."

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

Everything feels different about statements, lately.

The ones at the Institute never feel like the ones he gets fresh off the source, of course, but even reading those old stale ones, or listening to Gertrude's recordings, bring forth a barrage of information that leaves Jon feeling as though he just finished a well-seasoned meal.

Exactly ninety-eight prisoners were 'freed' from the Japanese encampment by the Nemesis. A hundred and twenty two Japanese soldiers killed each other to the beat of the drums, and some of their hearts were still beating as their recently liberated prisoners stepped over their bodies to go meet the boats at the shore.

Leonard Holden's last thought, as he twisted Milton Gallagher's neck, was that the commander officer was right, and this was really just like killing chickens back at the farm. When the bayonet first stabbed into his back, he let out not a scream of fear, but the bestial bray of a pig after you slit its throat. He never stopped tapping his feet to the Piper's music.

He barely registers the sound of his door opening and closing, his eyes focused -but unseeing- on the tape recorder on the desk.

As Gertrude moves on with her suppositions, Jon can See the Spider's webs all over the Nemesis, obscuring it from those who could have fed more violence into its fire.

"Doesn't help with the Unknowing, though," Gertrude says, and Jon gives a bitter smile, leaning back against the wide, warm hand that comes to rest at his nape.

"I don't suppose it would." Jon brings a hand of his own to cup the back of his neck, and Gerry intertwines their fingers together.

"Dekker always did have fun ideas," Gerry chuckles.

"Gerard may have a connection to the Eye, but I'm not sure it's enough... besides, I must admit I've grown fond of the boy."

Oh shit.

Jon scrambles to stop the tape, but Gerry reaches it first, and puts his weight on Jon's shoulder to keep him from getting up.

"Gerry, don't-"

"I do wonder sometimes, if I should tell him about Eric. He might decide to follow in his father's footsteps, but it's not like it did Eric any good in the end... Anyway, point is..." Gertrude continues to ramble on, but Jon couldn't care less about what else she has to say as he pushes his chair back. Gerry's grip on his shoulder has grown lax, as he stares at the tape recorder in his hand with a raised eyebrow.

"Gerry-"

"What does she mean, my father's footsteps?" Gerry's eyes, confused and hurt, fix on his when Jon climbs to his feet. "Jon?"

"I- I don't know." Jon closes his eyes, but the Watcher won't volunteer any information. He digs harder, but is only shoved back with the same ferocity with which knowledge is forced into his head. "Gerry I- oh!"

When he parts his eyelids again, twin streams of ink are flowing down from Gerry's nostrils, and Jon wipes at them with his sleeve.

"Your shirt-"

"Stop it," Jon snaps. "What makes you think it will let you Know, if it won't let me? Sit- just stay still already!" he bats away at Gerry's hand, pulling and pushing at him until Gerry's sitting on his chair and Jon stands between his legs, dabbing at the still flowing ink. "Stop trying to-"

"Jon, I can't!" Gerry snaps, wrapping a hand around each of Jon's wrists to pull them away from his face. "Do you even- what does she mean?!"

"Gerry, I don't know." Slowly, very slowly, Jon moves his hands to cup Gerry's face; his eyes are still unfocused, his breathing wild, and the ink is starting to run down his neck. "Please stop. You're hurting yourself." Jon's voice is very nearly begging, but he couldn't care less because Gerry's eyes finally focus on him.

Gerry lets go of his wrists, and Jon's heart skips a beat when his hands come to rest at Jon's hips almost tentatively.

"Doesn't-" Gerry starts, then clears his throat when his voice comes out hoarse and rough. "It's not fun when it's someone else, huh?" he asks, his breathing still coming in long, shaky pulls.

"I- I suppose it's not." Jon slides his thumb over Gerry's cheekbone in an awkward gesture that he hopes transmits comfort. "Are you alright?"

Gerry gives a dry, humorless snort as he sits up on the chair, and Jon lets go of his face to give him more movement. "It's- she was fond of me, she says." Jon stiffens, when Gerry's forehead lands softy on his stomach. "Where was that when she was making my page?"

"...I don't know." Jon whispers, bringing his arms to rest across Gerry's shoulders. "I- there are a lot of things I don't understand about her."

Gerry's arms tighten around his waist. "Of course. Night and day." His voice is muffled against Jon's sweatert, his breath filtering through the fabric, searing hot against Jon's skin.

"You loved her." Jon says, not really asking what he already knows.

"It didn't matter, in the end." Gerry snorts again. It sounds like it did. Like it does.

Jon digs a hand in Gerry's hair at the base of his neck, a mirror of the gesture Gerry uses on him all the time.

"I think it matters. I- I don't think Gertrude could afford to care, Gerry, but these recordings- they were for her." She couldn't have expected anyone would find them in her mess of an Archive, for sure. "She cared for you."

Gerry flinches like the words are yet another blow, and Jon tightens his grip on him, this man who only ever wanted to do good with his life, and who was hurt in return every time.

This man who is his now, something dark and slithery whispers at the back of Jon's mind, to correct the damage, to protect and comfort, if only he was powerful enough.

It's really hard to ignore the Beholding, when it speaks Jon's thoughts aloud.

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

Martin waits until the woman leaves, before he heaves a long, tired sigh.

This is... Less than ideal. He gives the whirring tape recorder an accusing glare and a shake of his head.

"Don't just 'brrrrr' at me. What are you doing, Jon?" he snaps. "Are you just- preying on people now? What am I supposed to do with this?!" He can't give it to Basira or Melanie, they'll kill him before they give him a chance to explain. Martin runs a hand through his hair.

There is someone else isn't it?

It's a dreadful thought, but after talking to the- to Jon's victim, he feels human enough to realize it's the Lonely feeling it, not him. Gerard is... whatever he is, he's helping. With Jon.

Martin pockets the tape recorder, and locks the door to Peter's office before starting down the corridor. It's relatively easy to follow in the specific direction the Lonely doesn't want him to go, but Martin feels another, lighter pull against his destination that he suspects might be the Eye.

"Of course you'd prefer him to keep doing it, wouldn't you?" Martin grumbles, glaring at one of the carved eyes in the masonry. "Well-"

"Are you talking to yourself?"

"Jesus!" Martin flinches, turning in time to see a smug smirk spread over Gerard's lips. "Could you stop doing that?!"

Gerard lifts both hands in surrender, his smirk still there and not apologetic in the least. "Sorry, sorry. It works just fine to get a bit of color back into you, though."

Martin huffs. "Well, don't. Anyways, I was looking for you."

"You were?" Gerard raises an eyebrow. "Got another Extinction statement?"

"No, actually..." and now that Martin has him before him, he's not really sure of how to put this into words. "Its- Jon has been taking statements," he says, shoving the tape in his direction. That's probably easy enough to understand right?

"O...kay? That's his job, isn't it?" Gerard does take the tape, but he's still giving Martin a quizzical look.

"No, I- he's- Gerard, he's been looking for statements. From people who don't come to the Institute to give them." And that's when he seems to catch on, because he grimaces, and lets out a low whistle. Martin nods. "A woman came to my office today, he- I think he compelled her."

Gerard looks down at the tape in his hand, the slightest curl of distaste at his lips. "How did she look? Was she...?"

Martin sighs again. "Said she's been having nightmares."

"Yeah..." Gerard shakes his head slowly. "That tracks."

"I just thought... he'll listen to you," Martin says, every word a little sting in his chest.

"He'd listen to you too," Gerard frowns, "I know you don't want to talk to him because of your isolation thing, but I think it would be better-"

"He loves you," Martin says simply. Like ripping a bandaid, if ripping a bandaid felt like tearing your skin off. He misses the numbness of the Lonely a little, but it's very unlikely he'd be able to call on it right now, not with Gerard right here.

"Whoa!" Gerard's eyebrows shoot up again, and a nervous chuckle escapes his lips as if it's been punched out of him. Martin doesn't miss the color rising on his face, and his lips twitch. "That's- you don't know that."

Martin rolls his eyes. "Gerard-"

"Actually, can you not... call me that?" Gerard interrupts. "It gets on my nerves. Just... Gerry's fine, alright?"

"Oh." Martin blinks. "Okay? What does that have to do with this?"

"Nothing. I just- listen, I've spent every single moment since I was brought back to life hearing about how bad Jon has it for you." Gerry pockets the tape recorder, and Martin wonders if it's really alright, that they went from talking about Jon's victims straight to discussing which one he's in love with. Maybe Peter wasn't that far off when he called the Archives a soap opera. "And it's very frustrating when you keep being as obtuse as possible about it."

"I can't exactly do anything about that, can I?" Martin rolls his eyes. "I'm supposed to be isolating myself to- to save humanity or something, and like we established before, he has you, so-"

"There's more than one way to do these things, you know?" Gerry speaks over him, and Martin has to stop on his tirade due to choking on absolutely nothing. Gerry pats him on the back, and Martin bats his hand away, face burning.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Martin asks.

Gerry groans. "You're impossible. I'll talk to him."

He stomps down the stairs to the Archives, and Martin stays there, mortified, confused and a bit exasperated, which is apparently becoming his usual state after any interaction with Gerry.

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

"I know you've been feeding." Gerry says once they've sat down at the café, because there is probably not a good way to tell the man you're in love with that the man he is in love with had to come to you so you'd ask him to stop feeding on the fear of innocents.

Across the table, Jon pales immediately. "I- how?" he stutters out, and Gerry wants more than anything to reach over and lay a hand on his to reassure him, but there are things that must be said first. "Who told you?"

"Martin did. He... there was a tape. Apparently someone came in to complain." Gerry reaches inside his jacket, only to find that the pocket is... empty. "Huh. Wait."

He pats the other pockets, as well as the ones on his jeans just in case, but the tape is just gone. Gerry frowns, confused, until the very clear memory of a yellow door at the bottom of a drawer pops up in his mind, and he groans.

"Why- what would Helen want that tape for?" Jon asks, and Gerry frowns at him when his eyes start to give off the faintest green glow.

"Don't do that. That's exactly why we're here, Jon."

"I- yes. Sorry." Jon sheepishly lowers his gaze to the table. "I... know. I know I shouldn't have done it," Jon sighs. "I just..." his elbows come to rest on the table, and he buries his face in his hands. He looks... small.

There are places of power, for people aligned with the Entities. Mooreland Manor for the Lukases, Ny-Alesünd for the Dark's freaks, and Gerry can't even think about Hilltop Road without getting a headache.

The Archives are like that for Beholders; Elias is never as powerful as he is when sitting behind his desk, but Martin put him in jail and that means Jon is the biggest dog at the Archives now. Here at the little coffeeshop, however, apologizing for his very existence, Jon has never looked more frail. It's a relief, really. He doesn't know what he'd have done if Jon had reacted differently.

It means he's still Jon, even after all that's happened.

When Gerry reaches out to lay a hand on his shoulder, he's half afraid Jon will crumble to pieces under his fingers. Instead, the man's desperate gaze is aimed straight at him, and Gerry's relieved to notice it's not the bright green of the Archivist's eyes, but the sweet dark brown that looks at him over the edges of books at home.

"I don't know how to stop it. I don't even know why I'm doing it. It's- I don't want to hurt people." Jon says in the strained tone of a confession. "I- before the coffin, I knew I would need the strength, it was for Daisy. But after that I've just- it even made the statements a bit better, because I can Know more things about them-"

"Makes sense. Feeding regularly would make you more powerful." Gerry observes. Jon flinches back like the words had been a strike, and Gerry gives him a sympathetic shrug. "It's what you're doing; it's what Avatars do. At least people survive when you feed from them."

"That's... not helping." Jon's face looks pinched.

"No. I don't suppose it is." Gerry squeezes at his shoulder.

"I just- maybe I can live off of statements alone from now on. It's- they don't really.... but it's better, isn't it?" Jon asks, with the same fervor of a child insisting they can fix the toy they just broke.

"You don't have to stop." Jon's eyes widen at his words, narrowing in suspicion just a moment later. Gerry rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes. You do have to stop feeding off of innocent people, that's not debatable. I wouldn't let you, either. It will only make you change faster, and I'd like to think that's not what you want."

"Of course not!" Jon snaps, shrugging Gerry's hand off his shoulder with an indignant huff. "I don't- that's the opposite of what I want!"

"Mhm. Thought so." Gerry nods. "Feed from willing people, then. People who won't be afraid of you." Jon's face is still fairly flushed after his little outburst, and Gerry has the sudden, very distracting thought that he would very much like to kiss him. But he's got a purpose, at least for now, and most importantly, he doubts it's the purpose the Eye had for him. "Feed yourself, not the Watcher."

"I don't- is that how it works?" Jon frowns.

"Maybe? It can't hurt."

"That's- I don't think people like that exist, Gerry. Should I only take statements from Institute employees now? Basira won't hear of it, and I won't ask Daisy or Melanie. I'm not going to-"

"Well no, not them." Gerry feels a smile tugging at his lips. Jon is ridiculously blind sometimes, for someone on the cusp of becoming quasi-omniscient. "Start me off, come on"

"...What?" Jon asks, and Gerry doesn't bother holding his grin back. "Gerry, what on Earth are you-"

"Yeah. You know...." Gerry schools his face into stern determination and forces his voice into a deep, affected accent. "Statement of Gerry Keay, regarding-"

"Are you crazy?!" Jon snaps. Gerry doesn't miss the new hungry, predatory gleam in his eyes. Maybe if Gertrude had reached this stage of becoming the Archivist, Gerry would've had an easier time mistrusting her; but then again he's literally just offered himself up as a meal for Jon, so maybe his self-preservation instinct is just not great. "I'm not going to take a statement from you!"

"Why not? I've got them in spades." Gerry shrugs.

"Haven't you heard what happens to my statement givers?!" Jon insists, but Gerry can see his hands shaking, white-knuckled around the edge of the table. A dog before a steak that he knows he's not allowed to have.

Gerry chuckles. "I have nightmares all the time, Jon. This would just be choosing which episode I get to watch. And honestly? Having you there will add a bit of novelty, if you ask me."

"Novel- are you mad?" Jon is shaking. Gerry wants to hold him close and whisper in his ear about the time he set a Vast avatar on fire. "Gerry, you don't want me in your dreams, trust me."

Gerry leans an elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand with a smile. "Maybe I do, you don't know that."

"Gerry!" The result is just as he expected, Jon goes red from neck to hairline, and Gerry gives him a wink. "I- that's-"

"Oh my God, he's flirting with you, you absolute moron," comes a new voice from somewhere next to their table. "No wonder you never noticed Martin wanted your sorry ass."

Gerry turns to face the newcomer, and his mind flares with alarms when his eyes land on the man's and the only thing he can see is fire. He was marked by the Stranger once, and the Eye as well; both marks have been burned away though, and they remain in his soul only as a reminder, with no real pull over him.

"Coffeeshop date and everything, statement included? You're getting lucky, Boss." The man speaks again, fixing Jon with an amused smirk, like this is a shared joke between them. Gerry can feel the temperature rise around them however, and see the barely concealed anger in his eyes.

It's not a look Gerry specially likes on a Desolation avatar looking at his Archivist.

Jon's face that was so flushed with color just a minute ago has gone pale, and Gerry tenses in preparation for a fight.

"... Tim?" Jon's voice is soft, almost... hopeful. After a moment though, his brow furrows, and his next words are grave and laced with a compulsion so heavy Gerry can taste the resentment as the words flow into his core. "Are you the real Timothy Stoker?"

The man's face contracts into a bitter mask as the compulsion washes over him. His body stiffens and his shoulders tense as he tries to resist the pull, but he fails, of course.

"Thought I'd hate it less now, but it's still the fucking worst." The man rolls his eyes, letting out a huff of steam. "I am. At least as much as you're, you know... you."

"The Desolation claimed you-" Jon doesn't really ask now. "At the Unknowing?"

"Big fan of my work, it looks like." Tim shrugs. "They buried my remains you know? The Desolation turned the whole grave into a cremation chamber for me to wake up. Climbed out just like that; I think I'm made of ash now."

And… yeah, that would explain the random fires they've been hearing about.

"So- so you're..." Jon starts, stops and clears his throat. "You're what, an avatar now? You're lik-"

"Boss, if you say 'like me' I'm going to punch you," the man interrupts him, and Jon's face tightens in pained recognition, like the threat of violence is much more credible as a confirmation of this man's identity than a compelled confession.

Maybe it is, and Gerry feels a burst of unreasonable irritation at the way Jon looks at his former assistant like he's both a ghost and a miracle, when Tim looks at Jon like he's a bug he'd like to step on.

"Tim... why are you here?" Jon asks. The compulsion is subtler this time, but still there.

"Honestly?" Tim asks, like he has any other choice. "I'm not sure. When I woke up, I wanted to see how the others were. Martin at least. Melanie, maybe. And..." he purses his lips, but doesn't manage to keep the rest of the words in. "I wanted to hurt you, if you were still alive."

Gerry stiffens in his chair, ready to hop up as soon as the man moves too abruptly. Across him, Jon looks... resigned. Like he'd known the answer before he even asked the question.

"Ah. Yes I- I can believe that." Jon sighs. "Are you going to?"

"He can certainly try," Gerry responds before Tim can even open his mouth, because he's getting sick of seeing Jon grovel for this guy's abuse.

"Gerry-"

"I'm not a hunter, but I've put out some fires before." Gerry speaks over Jon this time, his eyes fixed on Tim. He makes sure to lean back on his chair, and leave his chest open. Show this man that whatever fear he came looking for, he's not going to find here. "Molina died just fine with a scalpel."

Tim frowns, and much to Gerry's displeasure, looks much more confused than he does concerned. Something seems to click in his mind, because his eyes go the size of saucers, and he whips around to face Jon again.

"Gerard Keay?! The Gerard Keay?" he asks, and now it's Gerry who's confused. How does- "You're getting your freak on with the angry goth that shows up in every other statement? Isn't he supposed to be dead?"

Oh.

"I don't think either of us have any right to criticize anyone for not staying dead." Jon frowns. Gerry feels his mouth dry up; that's not the part he expected Jon to take issue with. "Now answer the question, please."

"Oh? Why don't you try your thing again? Don't really want to know?" Tim arches an eyebrow in challenge.

Jon rolls his eyes. "I know what you think of me, Tim. I'm not going to-"

"You literally just did it."

"Because I didn't know if you were... something else!" Jon snaps "I wanted to know if you meant harm to anyone in the Arch-"

"Oh, so you're the watchdog now?" Tim takes another step towards the table, and Gerry's napkin begins to smoke. "You keep everyone safe, you protect them?" He asks. His words are laced with mockery, striking like a cracking whip.

"I try-" Jon stutters angrily, only to be interrupted once more.

"Well isn't that great? You're definitely good at that, Boss, it's not like you've gotten what? Four people killed already?" Tim snarls. Gerry puts his napkin out with a couple pats, but he finds himself realizing he's not too worried. Desolation avatars know how to destroy. Tim could probably send the entire shop up in flames so hot only he would survive it, but he clearly doesn't want to. "They must be so reassured that you're taking care of them, Martin must be over the-"

"Shut up!" Jon's voice cuts cleanly through Tim's, and Tim's mouth clicks closed as static builds up around them. "I'm- I tried Tim. I did- I am doing my best to fix what I did wrong. I'll be the first to admit I- I made mistakes. And I know you won't forgive me, but- but I'm done. I- I'm done with begging you. What was it that you told Elias while I was gone? Either kill me, or-"

"Or fuck off" Tim nods. His eyebrows are arched, and when he speaks again his voice carries a hint of reluctant admiration. "Grew a pair while I was away, huh? Bit too late. If you ask me."

"Tim-"

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'm not... I should hurt you." Tim shrugs. It's stilted, too tense when he's trying to look casual. "But I don't want to. I think that part died too. The real me, you know?"

Jon's face goes from closed off to hopeful so quickly Gerry cringes a little. Whoever this man was -is-, he's... important, for Jon. Whether he likes it or not.

"So you-"

"I don't want anything." Tim rolls his eyes. "Well that's a lie. I want to destroy things. See the world burn and all, you know the drill. But I don't- Just stay away from me, Jon."

Jon flinches at his name, almost as if 'Boss' had been a quirky nickname and not some sort of mockery. Gerry guesses it could have been, and the thought makes him like it even less.

"Those are some bold words, when you were the one that came in here." Gerry arches an eyebrow, his hand balled over the smouldering napkin.

Tim rolls his eyes. "I figured I'd decide whether or not I wanted to melt his face off when I saw him," he says. "Wouldn't get too close if I were you. People who care for him don't end well."

He walks away without waiting for a response, and the air around them begins to cool down immediately. Gerry watches his back until the coffeeshop's door closes behind him.

"Do you want me to go after him? I can- Jon?" whatever he was going to add fades from his mind when he looks back.

If Jon had looked sad when apologizing for feeding, now he looks... miserable.

Gerry knows all too well he's not built for comforting people. He can protect them alright, but there's a lack of action inherent to comfort that always manages to make him feel like he's doing everything wrong, like he should be doing something to fix the problem instead of just being there.

Maybe it should've been Martin who brought Jon here, Gerry thinks bitterly, because he would fight the world for Jon, but what good is it if he cannot make things right?

"... Do you want to talk?" he asks. That's how this is done right? Communication, catharsis, comfort. He can't fuck up a simple formula.

Jon looks up at him, a hand buried in his tangled mess of hair. His eyes are still shiny, but less with the thrill of a potential statement, and more with something Gerry doesn't want to even think about.

"Tim was my friend," Jon says, and he seems to grow even smaller as he talks. "He moved to the Archives for me."

"Jon..."

"Guess this is the best outcome there could've been. At least he's free now."

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

Martin notices the melted doorknob as soon as he walks up to his flat door. It's not a great sign, probably, but also not something he's really in the mood for dealing with after the day he's had.

The Lonely kept coming and going at random today, and the complete numbness of it coupled with the bursts of intense emotion when he found his mind clear of it were exhausting.

"Whoever's in there-" Martin calls as he pushes the door open, careful to not touch the still warm metal "-I'm really tired. Please just say what you want, and go?"

The flat is completely dark, and Martin's eyes latch on to the two burning embers that he guesses belong to whoever came to kill-

"Dear, sweet Martin, telling the entities to behave. Things really have changed, haven't they?"

The voice crashes against him like a wave, terrifyingly familiar and entirely too disorienting; Martin leans heavily on the table by the door, knocking his mother's picture back. The warmth and the slight hint of humor contrasting with the raw bite of the words.

"T- Tim?" Martin gathers himself enough to flick the lights on, and sure enough there's Timothy Stoker, leaning by the door to his kitchen.

He looks exactly like he did the day he left for the wax museum with Jon; the scars from the worms littering his skin, the artfully messed hair, the confident curve to his lips. The only difference is his eyes, two burning coals in the middle of the much beloved face.

"Surprise," Tim says, elongating the word so much Martin can see the sarcasm bleeding off of it. "Turns out my old flat is not mine anymore, who knew? I'm going to need a place to crash for a while."

"I don't- how are you here?" Martin asks, still holding to the table for the stability that seems to have fled his world so suddenly. "You were- we buried you! Is- is it really you?"

"I had my doubts." Tim shrugs, making no move to get closer. "But I said I was when Jon asked, and it's not like I can lie to him, so I-"

"Jo- you went looking for Jon?" Martin's heart skips a beat. That can't be a good thing, that- "did you hurt him?"

Tim laughs at that, long and loud and bitter in rivulets of steam that raise from his parted lips.

"I should've known. No, Martin, I didn't hurt Jon." He says, his voice curling venomously at the name. "I wanted to. I really did. But when I was there, I-" his mouth moves around half formed words that he can't seem to give voice to, and his eyes flare up bright enough that Martin sees the glow even with the lights on.

"You couldn't." Martin blurts out when the revelation strikes, and Tim flinches. "I- that's- not that that's a bad thing, but Tim-"

"He compelled me, you know?" Tim spits out. "At the Unknowing. I was going to give her the detonator, but then he asked me to look, and I was so angry at him that everything was clear for a moment. And I killed us."

Martin takes a small, careful step towards him.

"You saved the world, Tim."

And Tim looks up at him, with a humorless smile.

"All I wanted at that moment was to kill him, her, and me, Martin. And I couldn't even do that." He pushes sharply off the wall then, and Martin restrains the urge to move back. "And I had him there today, he was practically begging me to do it, and I couldn't- why couldn't I kill him, Martin?"

He looks... devastated. Like the only certainty he had was just ripped from him and shattered before his eyes, and Martin has a moment to consider just how sad it is, that Tim depended so much on his hatred for the man whose friendship he treasured once. This new world has made strangers out of them all, empty husks that feed on resentment while yearning for a past that won't come back.

Martin takes a step forward, and then another, and another, and he only remembers Jack Barnabas' statement by the time his arms are closing around Tim, but it doesn't do much to stop him. Tim is in need of a friend, and Martin -or whatever is left of him that Gerry has managed to wrestle out of the Lonely- is the only one left.

Tim's arms come to wrap around Martin's back roughly, almost violently- Martin guesses that's now just as much a part of Tim as anything else.

"You melted my doorknob," Martin mumbles into the hug.

Tim snorts, and just for a moment, everything is right.

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

"Ouch," Basira grunts, and Daisy flinches back like she's been burned.

"Did I bite you? I'm sorry, I-"

"No, stop." Basirs lays a hand down on her head to still her, and Daisy looks up. Basira's rubbing at her with a pained frown on her face. "Something just fell on me."

Daisy scowls, but a look around the room reveals they're alone. "What-" she catches the corner of something black and shiny poking from between the sheets. "Is that a tape recorder?"

Basira groans, and Daisy pats her thigh with a sympathetic smile.

"I'll ask Melanie to talk to Helen about timing."

[erekiosuncreativeideas]

The Guilt Imprisonment - Chapter 01

Summary : "Guilt really was an awful feeling. Lurking in the darkness, always waiting for the worst moment to attack its host, this terrifying emotion could have so many destructive effects on one’s mind. The damage was even worse if said person’s mental health was already in bad shape after hundreds of years passed in absolute isolation.

Other factors could play a role in that as well and, for Moonjumper, it was mostly jealousy, hatred and resentment. All of them had been directed towards one particular person: his other half. While the latter had managed to escape from Vanessa’s basement, Moonjumper had woken up in this nightmarish dimension, one he ended up calling the Horizon."

Moonjumper feels extremely bad about his past actions. His mind cannot help but remember them constantly, trapping him in a prison of guilt. However, he learns that he's not the only one feeling that way...

Also available on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665326/chapters/59601370

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Guess the sequel of "Reliving An Old Nightmare" is here ! Hope you'll like it !!

If you haven't read "Reliving An Old Nightmare", I highly suggest you do so before starting this one, as you'll probably don't understand this story otherwise. If you like this story, please don't hesitate to tell me !

Also, English is not my native language, so there might be some grammatical mistakes I'll need to correct. Don't hesitate to tell me about them if you find one !

Happy reading !

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Chapter 01 - A New Beginning

Guilt really was an awful feeling. Lurking in the darkness, always waiting for the worst moment to attack its host, this terrifying emotion could have so many destructive effects on one’s mind. The damage was even worse if said person’s mental health was already in bad shape after hundreds of years passed in absolute isolation. Other factors could play a role in that as well and, for Moonjumper, it was mostly jealousy, hatred and resentment. All of them had been directed towards one particular person: his other half. While the latter had managed to escape from Vanessa’s basement, Moonjumper had woken up in this nightmarish dimension, one he ended up calling the Horizon.

He had never been good with names. Coming up with one for this place had been quite hard, given how desert and empty it was. After all, this dimension was just a seemingly infinite void, white everywhere, with small floating islands. Some of them were bare of any element, others had trees and bushes, while certain were full of rocks.

However, only one had a magical pond, and it was the one he was on most of the time. Now that he had gained the ability to float rather than having to crawl on the ground, he had been able to explore the Horizon, discovering what the other islands had to offer. Well, the answer was “not much”, though it was still better than being restricted to a single island. Considering the infinity of this place, Moonjumper tried to use his strings to connect the islands together, as a way to find his way around. It was like a giant map, where he had to follow the strings and their directions to find back his original island. Most of the time, it worked pretty well! Other times… The ghost had to search for it for what seemed hours to him.

Well, time couldn’t be measured here anyway.

His inability to find good names could also be seen in the way he chose to call himself. After coming to hate his other half and what the latter had become, the undead spirit didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and that also covered the person they both used to be. Thus, just like his other part did with his own name, Moonjumper thought of another identity he could use. The process had certainly not been easy and he had had to see which name fitted him the best, which one made him the most comfortable. He had tried to find something related to one of the things he liked the most and, eventually, the name Moonjumper came to him.

The Moon had always been something he had loved, watching it at night. Some people loved to stargaze but, as for him, he always had prefered to admire the beauty of the Moon. Choosing a name based on it seemed like a good idea and he had liked the sound of it.

And then, an opportunity had presented itself to him, an opportunity to leave this cursed place. Moonjumper had not hesitated a single second, manipulating Vanessa during her sleep to contact her. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t even sure how he did that, even to this day. It was before the Time Piece affected his body, his appearance and gave him his… Abilities. But maybe he already had gained some powers after his death, but wasn’t aware of it. Even today, the ghost still didn’t know. What he did know at the time, however, was that a small child had fallen from the sky in the mortal plane… A hatted little child, who had brought with her a lot of powerful artefacts, some sadly lost in Subcon Forest…

All he had had to do afterwards was to find someone desperate enough to listen to him. Someone easy to manipulate, someone who would do anything if promised the impossible… And soon, a plan had appeared in his mind. It was flawless! He had passed so much time planning everything so it would be perfect, so he would finally leave and get his revenge at the same time! What a wonderful opportunity!

Except it wasn’t. Because he had killed a kid in his attempt to get free.

Leaning on a tree, back in the Horizon, he closed his eyes. A lot of things had changed since then and, one of the biggest difference was that he was now able to go in and out of this dimension as he pleased. The spirit’s face winced as he remembered the scene. So much blood, so many tears and cries, the little girl’s body sliding against the ice as gravity pulled her body closer to the floor… It has been so awful, so horrible… And something the ghost had never wanted to do in the first place.

… Well, this wasn’t entirely true. He did try to kill her once, shackling her in the cellar, next to his unconscious other half. The truth was that, even if he had considered her as a threat to him because of her magical hats and knowledge regarding other dimensions… Moonjumper was not a killer. Contrary to his other half who had named himself The Snatcher, the spirit had never killed anyone voluntarily, let alone a child. When he had to get rid of her… He had chickened out, unable to murder her. All he had been able to do at the time was to lock her somewhere, hoping the collapsing rift would kill her instead, taking away the dirty work off his hands.

And it had been the same with Snatcher and Vanessa: it had all been hot air, bluff, lies, empty threats! Anything so he wouldn’t have to kill them himself. Using the hatted child as a hostage had given him the perfect escape scenario! Snatcher and Vanessa hadn’t been able to attack him while he was holding the little girl, just like he had planned. However… He hadn’t planned said kid would risk her life to get free. When the spirit had pushed her away, trying to avoid her attack… He had never meant to kill her. It had all been a huge accident!

The ghost curled up, taking his head into his hands. He could feel the sensation of his claws scratching his head, leaving marks as he brought them down. It made an awful sound. Silence was everywhere around him, making his thoughts even louder in his mind. Guilt was an unbearable feeling. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second… This was all he could think about: how he had murdered an innocent kid.

It hadn’t been a definitive death, but still.

After his other half broke the Time Piece, he had woken up in the attic, just like he was before being teleported outside the Rift. Next to him were the unconscious bodies of Snatcher, Vanessa and… The hatted kid’s. Since there hadn’t been any ice pillars in this version of the attic, the child had been lying on the floor, safe and sound. A sudden wave of relief had engulfed him as he had realized that she was still alive. He had tried to float closer, wanting to be sure, though Vanessa had woken up, trying to attack him.

He barely escaped that day.

The spirit had been free since then. Yet, he didn’t feel like he deserved this newfound freedom, especially because it had happened thanks to a child’s -temporary- death. Eventually, he had learnt that his body had been much more affected by the Time Piece than what he first thought.

First, the ghost was now alive and dead at the same time. It was extremely weird to him, in a lot of ways. One of them was that he could feel and smell things, contrary to his other half, who apparently couldn’t. Another one was that, while he didn’t need to eat, he felt the need to sleep. He could also feel pain, though he wasn’t able to heal his injuries, the ones caused by Snatcher. The latter had ripped the Time Piece out of his ribcage, breaking bones and bruising some organs in the process. Now, some time had passed since then, probably a few months from what Moonjumper had been able to tell, but… His body had remained unchanged, still as damaged as before. Since he didn’t have any healing magic, the only thing he could do was tying his chest up, in order to keep it closed. He had thought about closing it definitely by sewing his own skin, but… The very idea made him extremely uncomfortable. Considering he could feel pain now, this was not something he wanted to do. Thus, he had chosen the least painful solution, hoping that one day he’ll have the courage to do more than this.

He knew he wouldn’t, though.

The spirit let out a huge sigh and lifted his head back up, his eyes reexamining his surroundings: nothing ever changed in this place, it always remained the same. Just like him, in the end.

Moonjumper materialized several red strings, tying them between his fingers as he started to draw forms with them, mindlessly playing as his thoughts kept on wandering.

He couldn’t say he liked going back to the Horizon. Yet, even if he now had the possibility to leave and explore the world he had yearned so much… It was -oh- so overwhelming. The mortal plane was so lively, so noisy, so full of sensations he had lost the habit of feeling… At first, Moonjumper had been so happy to leave the Horizon, but soon his senses had been submerged, hit by a wave of sensations he had forgotten the existence.

Plus… There were a lot of people staring at him, judging him from afar… But who could blame them? It wasn’t every day one could see a literal living corpse! Though, all those stares and scared glances made Moonjumper feel even worse about himself. His new appearance was a reminder of what he did, of the bad things he had done just to be free… Of the death of an innocent child. It was too much.

Eventually, he couldn’t help but come back to the Horizon, where it was calm, where there was no one else but him, where no one would judge him. He did that very well on his own anyway. He still liked to leave this place, of course! Just… Not too long and only when it was late in the mortal plane. In that case, there wouldn’t be too many people staring at him.

It was really ironic! He had wanted to be free, to get out of there so much… And now, he was trapped again, trapped by his own loneliness. He did try to talk to people, but most of them were either scared or really uncomfortable by his presence. In the end, his situation was even worse than before. Yes, he could leave, but now his inability to socialize was his own fault. When he was stuck in the Horizon, he had his other half to blame for that… Now, he had no one else to blame other than himself.

It was a very different matter.

Moonjumper made the strings disappear and he stared into space. He needed to take his mind off all of this. Maybe a walk at night would help him? It had been a long time since the last one. He had been focusing on staying outside longer and longer. The mortal plane was overwhelming, but it was becoming easier to bear all those new sensations. It was a slow process, but it was progress nonetheless.

The ghost lifted himself from the ground, using his new floating abilities to move. He flew higher and higher, getting farther off the island he was on. Then, he extended his hands in front of him, grabbing empty space with them. But there was still something, even if it wasn’t visible. Clenching his teeth, the spirit started pulling the reality apart, separating it with his hands as he tried opening a window to the mortal plane. It was hard, and Moonjumper could feel his arms getting tired quickly at how difficult it was. But, after a few seconds, he managed to open a passage. The sight of a city greeted him, a town plunged into the darkness of the night, with no one outside. It was apparently a calm city surrounded by water, with tall buildings. An island, perhaps? But it mattered little to the ghost: all he wanted was to go on a stroll without catching anyone’s attention.

And this place seemed perfect for that. Before leaving his dimension, he examined the city once more, smelling the sea air as he passed his head through the crack. It was a messy town, with garbage and graffiti everywhere. There were a lot of scaffoldings, as if the city had gone through major changes. Many crates were scattered around. There was a beach, though it seemed just as messy as the rest of the island. Several hot-air balloons were settled on the sand, all empty. A huge geyser was coming out of the centre of the town, holding up a sort of platform on which could be seen a building.

Moonjumper let a small smile appear on his features, something he barely did nowadays: this was going to be a promising stroll, he thought, as he entered the new dimension, the crack slowly closing behind him.

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Hope you liked that first chapter ! :D

See you soon on the next chapter ! Take care in the meantime !

=> Chapter 02

[gamerwoo]

Jihoon: Fear the Soul Eater

Characters: Jihoon x reader (gender neutral)

Genre/warnings: soul eater au, horror, angst, death

Word count: 1,666

Summary: I can’t wake up from the fear so I lie again. Even my memories are staining. This is love that has spread over my body.

a/n: i was supposed to have this done on friday. don’t ask me why it took so long to write. but i rushed to finish it so it wasn’t proof read aka there might be a lot of mistakes and it might not be the best lmao

Tag list: @exo-chan-kai @purpleseleva @mntax @squishy-yamdumplings @linophobia @fullsun-donghyuck @greenmetalroof

Fear Masterlist

It needed souls to stay alive, that was all Jihoon could gather. At first, he was meant to be one of the souls it would consume. His soul was brought to its nest, which was just a darker, scarier version of the real house it was located in. The house was one on his street that had been abandoned for years -- or so he thought. After the couple who lived there had died suddenly, nobody wanted to buy it. But now, Jihoon was realizing they were killed by the soul eater that had set up its nest in a weird dimension that shadowed their world.

But Jihoon soon became a pawn in the soul eater’s game. It needed more souls brought to its nest, and it planned on using Jihoon to do so. The task wasn’t difficult using somebody like Jihoon. He was a young adult who had a lot of friends, so it wasn’t like it would take much convincing to get souls close enough that the soul eater could take them. It even set up its new next in Jihoon’s house because it was more convenient.

The problem was that Jihoon still had to come off like he was himself, so the soul eater had to return his soul to his body and possess him. So while a little part of Jihoon was still in there, it was mostly the soul eater that was in charge. Jihoon was like a prisoner in his own body, and he couldn’t even scream for help.

Overtime, his own memories started becoming warped with what the soul eater saw and wanted him to see. It was like he was becoming the soul eater. He started to not feel any emotions, recognize any faces, or remember things from his old life. People could tell there was something different about him, but because it was still his body, nobody had reason to suspect he could possibly be possessed. That was stuff that only happened in movies. But they didn’t realize until it was too late and they were lured into his nest.

Over the course of only a few weeks, Jihoon -- his own soul that was still somewhere inside his body -- slowly got weaker and weaker until he swore he became the soul eater.

-

“_____.”

Hearing Jihoon’s soft voice say your name, you turned around just as you were about to leave the classroom. Despite the fact it sounded like Jihoon, something about the tone always seemed off. You noticed there was always something a little off about Jihoon, and there had been for a while now. You only knew because you’d had the biggest crush on him for who knows how long.

There was some sort of silent acknowledgement that you and Jihoon both had feelings for each other, but both of you were too shy to do anything about it. The farthest anything went was being partners for projects together since you were studying the same major and had a lot of classes together. Both of you were too shy to make a move, but Jihoon suddenly...changed. He still didn’t speak much but it felt off somehow. Colder, maybe. It wasn’t just shyness, it was like he didn’t want to interact with anybody. But either way, it was odd for him to call after you when class had already ended.

“Would you like to come back to my place?” he offered coolly.

You noticed that something in his eyes wasn’t exactly right, either. There wasn’t the same sparkle there. They were dull, almost like he was spacing out yet he still was looking right at you rather than through you.

You trusted Jihoon. Despite him being very quiet and introverted, he was always very sweet -- especially when it came to you. The way he spoke to you, acted around you, and even looked at you always made you feel at ease. You never once suspected Jihoon would hurt you, even when he seemed a little odd. In fact, his change made you worried and you wanted to get to the bottom of what was going on. Maybe he was going through something and needed a friend. So you said yes.

That was the biggest mistake you could’ve made.

You didn’t realize what was causing you to see the horrible things you saw when you entered Jihoon’s house until you were caught in his nest and had it explained to you by another trapped soul. He made you hallucinate horrible things to make you vulnerable, and then he stole your soul, saving it to eat when he needed it.

“But he likes to...play with us first,” one of the souls mumbled when he tried to explain what was happening. “I think he likes to make us feel afraid. We never know when he’ll end it. He gets into your mind and makes you see awful things. I think death would be better at this point.”

But this wasn’t the Jihoon you knew, and you suspected that he was in there somewhere. This...thing was cold and sadistic and menacing. But Jihoon -- though shy -- was warm and kind and gentle. There was no way that Jihoon was this. No, you wouldn’t believe it.

Even though you wanted to believe Jihoon was still there, you were no exception to his mind games. He could make you see and hear whatever he wanted until you were shaking and crying and begging for him to do anything to stop it.

Jihoon smirked, ready to walk away and leave you there to try to collect yourself after all he had put you through. But he stopped when he felt your cold hands wrap around his leg, keeping him from moving. He stopped and looked down at where you had sunk to your knees, tears streaking your cheeks as you looked up at him.

“Jihoon…” you whimpered.

He turned away too quickly for you to see his expression. He tugged his leg away and carried on, leaving the room you were in.

The soul eater had felt Jihoon’s soul spark to life, even if it was a small spark. But considering Jihoon had been all but gone for weeks, it was concerning. It didn't realize how strongly Jihoon felt for you; it didn’t know you had that kind of power over him. But it wouldn’t let anything like that happen. It knew you were trying to break him and bring him back, but it was going to break you first.

-

You became his favorite target. He would spend up to an hour just watching the fear in your eyes and on your face as he made you see things that you couldn’t even imagine in your worst nightmares. He would listen to you sob for him to stop, smirk as you screamed and tried to somehow get away from the things in your own mind, and felt pride as he saw your mental state crumble bit by bit.

And yet, you did the same thing to him every single time.

Sometimes you’d whimper, “Jihoon, make it stop.”

Other times, you’d find yourself clinging to his leg as he sat and watched you, crying his name over and over more like it was a safety blanket rather than the root of your fear.

Every single time, the spark got stronger and stronger. Memories of you would start trickling back. The way you giggled and blushed whenever Jihoon would realize he forgot a pen. The way you smiled at him across the table at the library. How bashful you’d get if you even brushed hands reaching for the same thing at the same time. How his heart would pound whenever he would see you or be near you. He remembered how you affected him and how happy you made him.

But it still had some control. It tried to twist those memories into awful, ugly things. It tried to make him see you as something to want to stay away from and forget. It tried to make you out to be the monster, and Jihoon started to not know what was fake and what was reality.

The next time you saw Jihoon, he was even different from the first time you noticed he was different. It was like he’d gotten worse, and that made you feel deflated. But you didn’t want to give up. You had to save Jihoon. You weren’t sure if that would get rid of the soul eater, but you had to at least try to help him.

After yet another session of being tortured by him, you scrambled to grab one of his hands with both of yours.

“Jihoon, please!” you begged. “I know you’re still in there, please!”

He slowly turned his head to look at you. But that little shimmer of hope you were starting to see over time had been drained completely. He now looked not only cold, but sadistic. And the way he smiled at you only intensified that, sending shivers down your spine.

“His soul is long gone,” Jihoon’s voice told you, but it didn’t sound like Jihoon at all.

You were starting to give Jihoon’s soul hope. It was starting to try to gain control of his own body again, and it worried the soul eater. It had to get rid of Jihoon’s soul. Besides, he already lured all of Jihoon’s friends. He didn’t need to act like Jihoon anymore. So he got rid of his soul and kept his body just to torture you that much more.

Watching as your face fell made his -- its -- smile widen. It could see all the hope you had completely fade. You were looking at Jihoon’s face and hearing his voice, but knowing it wasn’t him was far scarier than anything that thing had shown you.

It knew that, and it was going to milk that for all it could before finally consuming your soul like it had done to Jihoon.

[slimesgeneratorfics]

I’m in a Discord server with @onemoontorulethemall , and they shared a whump idea that held me at gunpoint until I wrote a fic. Thank you for the inspiration for one of the longest fics I’ve ever written!

Title: Of Monsters and Men

Fandom: Rick and Morty

Word Count: 1684

Warnings: whump, serious injuries, uncensored swearing, canon-typical familial dysfunction (Seriously. If you’re not familiar with the show, this means quite a bit of dysfunction.)

Description: Based on the first arc (Issues 1-3) of the Rick and Morty comics, but the bug doesn’t escape the garage and... you’ll see. Read that if you want to catch cool references, but hopefully this works as a standalone too. But also, read the comic if you’re a fan of Rick and Morty. It deserves more love.

It had been three months since Morty had returned home without Rick: three full months without adventures, without purpose, and with one less person around to yell at him. Morty still didn’t understand why Rick had let him use the one-person portal out of that prison maze. Maybe Rick was done with this family and had finally decided to leave. Well, Morty was sick of living like this. He had to do something. Morty snuck into the garage, loaded some weapons into Rick’s car, and took off.

He barely made it past Mars when he was pulled over by space cops. The trial was much faster this time- he had already been found guilty, and this time Morty didn’t hesitate to make a mockery of the court system. It wasn’t that he wanted to go die in space prison, but he no longer had the energy to care about being good. If things went south, it was just one last hurrah for Morty, you know? No big deal.

They sent him to the same prison as before- Clackspire Labyrinth. Huge monsters and swarms of smaller monsters, none of which Morty recognized, attacked. Morty used Rick’s hidden panels to find weapons that made it easy to slice through every threat. He didn’t feel tired. He was fueled by spite and the desire to not die pathetically.

Morty heard the sounds of monsters being slashed around the next corner. This was strange- none of the prisoners he’d seen survived more than a couple hours, and there hadn’t been any new drop offs. Suddenly, a voice:

“WUBBA LUBBA DUB DUB! EAT THAT!” followed by a blast. Rick? It couldn’t be. His mind must be playing tricks on him. Or worse, this could be just another part of the torture.

“Rick” killed the monster and ran around the corner, bumping right into Morty. “Morty? Wh-what are you doing here?” he asked.

“Oh don’t act so surprised. I know you’re just another monster.” Morty raised his gun, but despite himself, he hesitated.

“Says you, you’re probably the monster! Why the hell would Morty be here?” This image of Rick was pretty realistic. He looked human, not robotic at all, and he was clearly scuffed.

“Enough! I’m going to kill you.” Morty fired, and a ray blasted through Rick’s chest. Wow, this thing had blood? This prison did not half ass psychological torture.

The fake Rick coughed and sputtered as robotic needles stitched flesh back together from the inside. The real Rick had tech on every organ to make him essentially unkillable, and apparently this monster was the same. “Don’t… cross me, you piece of shit.”

“I’ll cross whoever I want! You- you think I'm going to give up?”

Just then, the Rick monster fired a ray gun at Morty. To Morty’s shock, the mortal wound began to heal itself in the same way the Rick’s had. He didn’t remember any loss of consciousness between the trial and being dropped into the maze, and why would they have put such modifications in a prisoner who was supposed to die? But to assume that Rick, the real Rick, had installed them made even less sense. Morty was always expendable, nothing more than a human shield.

Morty pushed the questions aside. He was not going to lose now. “Just because neither of us can die doesn’t mean I won’t try to kill you. How about I aim for where it really hurts?” Morty aimed for Rick’s skull.

The ray bounced off, but the impact knocked Rick into a wall. The Rick was shaken, but he stood up. “You really think I would leave my brain unprotected? Maybe you really are Morty, because I can’t think of anyone else who would be that stupid!”

“Of course I’m Morty! Who the hell are you?” Morty tackled Rick to the ground and grabbed his throat.

“Morty, don’t you get it? We’re both here. You- you gotta believe me. I’ve missed you so much. I let you through that portal because I knew the long way would be dangerous, and you- you deserved to go home. I may act above it all, and I am, but you’re my grandson, Morty. I didn’t want you to have to live the labyrinth life.”

Was Rick… crying? Damn, this was a shitty fake. “Y-you’re not fooling anyone, you know? The real Rick doesn’t care about anything or anybody. He had a coupon for a free replacement Morty from the Citadel of Ricks. I- I bet he’s escaped and gotten a new Morty, maybe even- maybe even a new dimension!” Or, Morty thought hopefully, maybe Rick was about to come rescue him and tell him what a piece of shit he was for ending up back in galactic prison.

Well, Morty was done waiting to be rescued. He let go of the Rick’s throat with one hand and grabbed his ray gun, shooting the impostor directly in the heart. The blast didn’t make it far, but Rick lost consciousness from the impact. Morty sat back, still holding the gun. Everything finally hit as Morty’s numbness dissipated. Morty never wanted to be a killer. He didn’t want to live “the labyrinth life.” All he’d ever wanted was to see cool shit in the multiverse and pretend that impressing his grandpa was an achievable goal. Part of him wished this monster Rick could kill him just so it would all be over.

As if on cue, the monster Rick woke up. Shit, now Morty looked vulnerable. Maybe he could think of a way to use that to his advantage if he mustered the ability to be heartless again.

“You alright, little buddy?” Rick asked, as if he wasn’t the one who had just been unconscious.

“What do you care?” Morty replied. “Either you’re a monster and you want to kill me, or you’re the real Rick and you’re waiting to laugh at me.”

“Okay, that’s pretty reasonable considering how I’ve presented myself for, uh… always. But what if it’s neither?” Rick looked at Morty gently - hadn’t this torture been cruel enough? - and waited for a reply. Morty just stared at him, daring this Rick to prove himself.

“What if, and I’m just spitballing here,” said RIck, “What if I’m your real grandpa and I’ve always cared about you? I’ve been thinking a lot over the past three months, and I think I leaned too heavily on the god complex. Just because I’m literally the smartest being in the universe doesn’t mean I have to be an asshole about it, right?”

Morty let out a snort of laughter despite himself, but he quickly redirected into a scowl.

“Yeah, I deserve that,” Rick continued. “You know, back in season 1- actually, I don’t know where the comic fits in the continuity, let alone the - alright, ignoring the fourth wall, one time I was kidnapped by another version of me who wanted to steal my memories because I was against the Citadel and because I was ‘the Rickest Rick.’ And while he was stealing my memories, they were playing on a screen he had. I saw you as a baby, Morty. He was playing my memories of you, and I actually teared up. I denied it, of course, but in that moment I was thinking about how I’d endangered you by bringing you on these crazy adventures and how all our fun might end in disaster. I don’t want that for you, Morty. That’s why I installed all that protective gear in you while you were sleeping. I never told you because I always had to keep up that god complex attitude. I felt like I’d be a better person without my attachments, and I thought that if anyone knew how I really felt, they’d just use it against us. Do you see what I’m saying, Morty?”

“That’s a good try at a sob story, Rick. I’m almost convinced.” Morty looked down at his hands. “But there’s absolutely nothing you could say to me that would convince me that the real you could be that vulnerable.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Rick said, and suddenly Morty heard a blast and everything went dark.

…

“Huh? Where am I? What did you-” Morty’s vision cleared as his consciousness came back. He seemed to be in his room. Was he dreaming? Dead?

Rick walked in. “If I was a monster, I wouldn’t have set the gun to stun.”

“Huh,” Morty considered, “I guess you’re right.” He paused. “Did you mean what you said back there? Do you really care?”

“Don’t talk so loud. This stays between us, alright?” Rick said in a mock-threatening tone.

Morty grinned. He got out of bed and hugged Rick. “I love you, Grandpa Rick.”

Rick returned the hug. “I love you too, Morty.”

Rick stepped out into the living room where Beth, Jerry, and Summer were sitting. “You heard nothing,” he announced.

“Okay, sure thing,” said Summer, not looking up from her phone.

“Is Morty okay?” asked Beth.

“He’s going to be fine. I want- I want to really drive the point home that you did not just overhear a tender moment of familial affection involving Rick Sanchez, smartest man in the universe.” Rick crossed his arms and glared at Jerry.

“Whatever you say, Rick,” said Jerry, clearly disappointed that Rick was back and taking charge again.

“Thanks for bringing him back, Dad,” Beth said. “We were so worried. And don’t worry, your secret is safe with us.”

“My secret is not safe with you,” Rick fumed, “because it’s not with you. You have no secret, capiche?”

“Grandpa, get off her case,” said Summer. “I’m sure you’re the same asshole you always were.”

“That’s right! Rick never learns a lesson!” Rick went out to the front door and seemed to shout at the universe in general. “Rick and Morty a thousand years, no emotional vulnerability! Okay maybe a little, sometimes, but only when lives are at stake! The word count on this thing got really out of hand, but you’re still listening! Fuck the fourth wall! Roll credits and theme music!”