#mark you have no actual clue how important it is that you drew this to me

[sweetvalentinescandy]

oh mark the man that you are

Lazy thing i wanted to do!!! they're just silly :3

I think dave is a pretty princess and John is awkward

I'll be yapping below

I believe that Dave texts John right after he gets his ass handed to him DAILY. It usually plays out like this where they banter and Dave never really goes through the extent of explaining what thoroughly happens to him so John lives in forever ignorant bliss. And this leads Dave to feel like there's more of disconnect because he first of all doesn't really know how to articulate his feelings and second abuse doesn't seem like abuse to the victim. So he goes about everyday unknowingly yearning to be saved by someone greater than him, which is why I put the snow white reference at the end hehe.

Snow white as a fairy tale is extremely cliche, you got the prince in shining armor showing up conveniently on a horse and saving the girl. There's always this hierarchy placed upon the story where the damsel in distress is saved by a man, that man being portrayed as a greater being.

And with John taking place as the prince in this context paints him as this greater being. And I feel like a part of Dave envies and despises John for being this way, for being "perfect" or in a way. Greater than him.

The thing is in the original snow white story she's unconscious, that's undesirable. But it adds to the desperation of wanting to be saved, shining a better looking light on a person who isn't really there for reasons you want them to be. However John is a sincere person, it's more so the lack of communication or true understanding of one another that leads to this rift, this belief that John isn't there for Dave because he loves him, but because he's his friend and it's John's duty as a friend to save him. Which also brings me to the last line where Dave never corrects himself, and how he insinuates that he'll be unconscious due to being placed in a glass coffin much like snow white was when she was poisoned. He's at this stage where he doesn't want to be saved by an outer source, a greater person than him. He wants to be saved by himself he wants to prove worthy, but then conflicting within his mind is also this idea he isn't good enough to. We all know that Dave believes he isn't a hero and explicitly states John is the hero multiple times throughout homestuck. So he stays waiting.

John however, refers to Dave as Cinderella, Cinderella gets abused and put through plenty of torture from her step sisters and is saved through marriage of some person she just met. There's still this base line of being saved by man however there's this more mutual understanding of what they're getting into, a similar yearn for one another. Though he never caught her name he was still willing to find her, the real her. Which is John in this case, he probably understands he's missing something in the big picture but can never find out what and the best he can do is hope that the other half still held on to what they once were and was willing to share.

This is a pre-sburb interaction btw they're just unknowingly foreshadowing a shit ton.

Sorry if there's like bad shitty writing in here, I'm rambling and it's like almost midnight hehe

[fleouriarts]

remade the height lineup for jamie and co! it's been almost exactly 6 months since i made the original one, and omar and andre didn't even exist when i made it, so i figured it needed an update. also the original was made in one night (vs this being made in a week) and you can TELL

under the cut are individual pics for each of them with some design notes and such. tumblr also likes to crunch big images like this, for full size click here and here

originally finished 9-28-2024

JAMIE: biggest change is that im actually drawing him with a long ass linsang neck. i wanted him to be small so bad before that i forgot the most important linsang trait... this is also why he has gained 2 inches of height LOL

SANTIAGO: santiago got like 25% wider and his horns are more visible. i considered making a second unclothed ref for his look during the summer (all wool shaved except for the head), but i don't draw him like that very much. maybe later

JOHNNY: no changes. johnny is a perfect animal. i just finally have a full ref of her spots (at least from the front)

NULL: i completely changed their head shape to look like an actual siamese cat, and gave them 6 nipples like an actual cat. their original shirt had just a blue scribble (my usual shorthand when i'm drawing from a ref and don't feel like drawing a shirt design) but i decided they deserve an actual shirt design now. i tried a cat skull at first and then i thought to do cartoon fish bones instead and fell in love with it

ARGYLE: argyle's face spots became more pronounced, his mane is bigger, his bigass robe has only yellow stripes now, and i changed the colors on his pants a bit. a character change that comes with this is that he is now a journalism student instead of fashion. he was originally a fashion student so him, jamie, and santiago would all have to interact (since they're all in the arts at their college). however developing argyle more made me think he would care way more about comfort than looking good when it comes to his clothes. also the son of a lawyer and a history professor going into journalism just makes sense to me

OMAR: omar wasn't on the original lineup, but when compared to my first drawing of her, i just made her fatter with a longer neck. and now i have a good ref of his spots! i've also decided they have hyperestrogenism, no clue if it's caused by an underlying syndrome like aexs or not. either way she has gynecomastia and hypogonadism because of it

ANDRE: andre straight up didn't have a color ref before now cus i mostly drew her in my sketchbook. i just forced myself to figure out his markings and give him a "default" outfit (i really liked the one i drew him in here so that's his default now). also i have decided she does not wear wigs anymore she's just a cool bald bitch

overall i think i just got better at drawing furries ^__^ a lot of it comes down to just thinking harder about their anatomy. you may notice that the new drawing has the carnivorans (jamie null argyle and andre) as plantigrade at rest now instead of digitigrade. part of this is because i went and looked at my zootopia artbook to study it and that's how they do it. another part of it is that when you look at plantigrade vs digitigrade legs (unguligrade is here too i guess):

the entirety of the paw on a digitrade animal is homologous to just the toes on a plantigrade one. do you want to stand on your toes all day? does that sound fun to you? HELL NO!!!!!! unguligrade animals stand on their toenails but they're weirdos we don't have to talk about them

anyway enough of my rambling cheers to you if you read this far. if you're an aspiring furry artist you might find it fun to learn some irl animal anatomy to help you w your drawings, like looking at skulls/full skeletons and stuff. or maybe it'll just frustrate you. i'm a biology student so this is enriching for me. have a nice day

[kohakurin8]

~ Birthday Bunny ~

An innovative analysis for an innovative game

It's still Spooky Season! So of course, I'm still at it with the spooky games. And as suggested by @starwarspurgefan tonight I played the Horror RPG Maker game, Birthday Kid by @livisart !

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️

This is an analysis of the overall game plot and contains spoilers beyond this point.

If you would like to experience the game for yourself before reading this analysis, please scroll to the end of the post for a link to where the game can be downloaded!

Holy. Crap.

I absolutely love this game!

In the ending bonus room livis admits that the game is their first ever finished RPG Maker game and honestly, I'm impressed. The story and overall structure is such a treasure -- simple yet deliciously complex at the same time.

Not only that, but it has a lot of little details and themes that remind me impeccably of another absolute favorite of mine, Omori by Omocat -- and considering Birthday Kid was released before Omori, I wouldn't be surprised if Omocat actually played this game and drew some inspiration from it!

So then, let's jump into it. What is Birthday Kid?

Well, to put it simply the game follows a bunny-person named Pepper who is continually reliving the day of their 12th birthday. The focus of the game is exploring Pepper's house as they try to remember something important, finding various clues in order to sort out trauma in the process.

To start with, I'd like to compliment the game mechanics because they are incredibly creative. They guide you through what you're supposed to do while still making it feel like you've solved some sort of puzzle, and the guidance is portrayed in a way that's very realistic to a sort of dream world or delusion.

The usage of blood marks and subtle key words to tell you where to go is spooky and satisfying, and a personal favorite mechanic out of anything I've seen so far.

Secondly, the designs of Pepper and Rascal may be simple, but they've completely captured my heart. I absolutely adore bunnies, and freckles, so Pepper had me excited to play the game before I even started.

And lastly, the story is beautiful and told with such nuance that one can both generally infer what happened, but still ponder the details with healthy curiosity.

But you know me. I can't just ponder this shit -- I have to write it!!

Alright, since it was written so nicely, there isn't much room for theories necessarily. But that's okay! Instead, allow me to explain the string of events and details as I perceived them while playing.

Pepper is officially classified as "a gender", although the dialogue suggests that they may have been born female but prefers to be agender and chose a name for themselves that isn't their birth name-- something which their peers bully them for relentlessly. On top of that, Pepper is a mute and only communicates through sign-language, which adds fuel to the discriminatory fire.

Considering the usage of the bunny theme, and the posters which read "Alice? Is there a god?" I speculate that Pepper's birth name may have been Alice.

And considering livis specifically stated that Pepper "prefers" not to speak, I theorize that they are not mute by birth but rather by some sort of trauma-induced muteness, or perhaps even non-verbal autism.

Regardless of the reasons why Pepper is how they are, even their own parents abuse them for being different. In fact, it bothers their parents so much that they have issues between each other over it.

But one birthday, Pepper was walking home when they found a talking rabbit -- the demon bunny Rascal. Rascal is severely injured, so Pepper decides to take him home and their mother convinces their father to allow them to keep it.

However, poor Pepper's home life soon deteriorates. At first, they seem fine so long as they have their friend Rascal. But the plot suggests that their Dad eventually murdered their mom and shoved her in the wardrobe of the master bedroom, then proceeded to neglect Pepper and abuse them verbally, even to the extent of not allowing them access to the fridge. Although, while sneaking into the fridge to get food for Rascal, Pepper notices a bottle of poison...

During one of these abusive episodes, Rascal actually attacks Pepper's Dad, and judging by some of the dialogue apparently pushes him into the hot stove, burning his hands. (Either that or he once burned Pepper's hands with the stove...) In a fit of rage, the Dad snaps poor Rascal's neck, and locks Pepper in their wardrobe.

Obviously distraught, Pepper uses the poison to kill their father, then summons a demon in an attempt to bring Rascal back. The demon makes a contract to do so with Pepper, offering to erase all of their painful memories in the process. Thinking this was a good idea at the time, Pepper accepts the offer, only to forget all about Rascal too!

This brings us to the start of the game -- Pepper reliving their twelfth birthday party. However, with the lack of memory everything about the part feels strange and fake, prompting Pepper to investigate. I believe that the act of repeatedly killing all of Pepper's party guests is symbolic of their strong feelings of hatred towards those who bullied them. A wrathful feeling that cannot be merely erased even with the help of a demon

All hope is not lost, however, since Pepper does eventually regain their memories. Upon remembering Rascal's name it's revealed that Rascal had been the demon all along, and using his name actually takes him! I'd like to think that in the end, the two were happy together.

And uh... That's it!

Once again, I really loved this game. Thank you so much for suggesting it, I've had a lot of fun with it. If you have anything you'd like to add, feel free to comment!

‼️ SKIPPING SPOILERS? STOP SCROLLING HERE ‼️

As promised, here is the link to where you can download this amazing game.

[orange-waterfalls]

I Call This One: Bold & Brash!

The egos x artist! gn! reader

ty @pokemonpunqueen for the request!

A/N: I’ve decided that I’m gonna write for the egos when I can’t think of anything else or I need practice writing lmao. I mean I was doing that before? But I didn’t know it? listen it’s fine it’ll be fine but FOR NOW I thiiiink I’m gonna take requests. Just a few. I’ll stop when I think it gets too much. This is exactly what it says. I focused on like drawing/painting for “artist”, with some references to animation thrown in there. I did Darkiplier, Wilford, Yancy, Illinois, Google, Eric, and a Host thrown in there bc I love him and I miss him

Word count is 1.5k

Enjoy

Egos x artist!reader

Darkiplier

He’ll want to commission art from you

He makes comments about how Mark is a narcissist but also he’s a narcissist.

Oh look, Dark’s asking you for another picture. What does he want? He wants you to draw him? Again? For the fifth time this fucking month? Wonderful.

He likes looking at how you make art of him, be it stylistic or realistic

He will hang them up all over the fucking house so pace yourself

He’s fine if you draw anybody else

Except Mark. Never Mark. How can he tell, you ask? No fucking clue, but he does

Gets a bit worried that you won’t make enough money to live comfortably

Just because not everyone needs a fucking MANSION-

Will always buy things for you if you ask

Likes to be able to support your job or hobby

Sugar daddy? I mean maybe

Makes sure you eat, sleep, drink water, survive--

Leaves snacks for you at your desk for when you don’t want a meal.

Carries you to bed if you fall asleep at a desk

Recommends you wear comfy clothes at all times so you can fall asleep wherever

A bit of an enabler, he’s doing his best tho

If you take commissions don’t be surprised if he threatens to kill someone when they don’t pay or are rude to you

He loves you, that’s all

Wilford

Fucking elated

Draw him!!! Please!!!! Please draw him!!!!! He has coin!!!!! He can pay!!!!!

Ecstatic if you actually draw him like he’ll giggle for an hour straight just looking

Secretly commissions more art from you

So also sugar daddy

It’s always something so obvious so you know it’s him anyways

He likes bright colors and eyestrain for some reason

If you make that, he just. Stares at it. Unblinking. You have to snap him out of it (im not projecting what do you mean)

Gets extremely worried about you not taking care of yourself

Gets someone to fucking babysit you when he’s gone so you take care of yourself

When you get greatly offended by this he settles for texting you reminders

And when you ignore those he texts more

Don’t be surprised if you get spammed by several people and an alarm starts to play from somewhere in the house

You’re gonna be healthy whether you like it or not, asshole

Drags you to bed aggressively

He WILL NOT drug your food with melatonin because that’s illegal. B U T-

He’s a little confused, but he got the spirit

Will advertise your art to anyone and everyone and also on his show and threatens the audience with a gun

AGAIN, a little confused. he just wuvs u so much 

Yancy

I mean technically he’s kind of an artist too so he appreciates your skill and creativity

He’s very nosy and likes to look over your shoulder while you work

If you don’t like him doing that, he still does it, just more secretively

Likes to work in the same room as you. 

That is if you don’t mind constant singing or tap dancing in the background

He shows off your art to anyone and everyone and gets mad if they don’t immediately say it’s fantastic

May or may not have stabbed someone over it, you’ll never know

If you show him something you’re working on, he’ll show you something he’s working on in return

The law of equivalent exchange

You tell him you can make MONEY from things like art and dancing and he goes apeshit he gets so fucking excited

If you’re like an animator and offer to animate his dancing he might actually cry

He’ll deny it constantly every day until he dies

If you make things traditionally he hangs them on the wall Everywhere

You might run out of room

By which i mean you will run out of room as soon as possible

Will never tell you a drawing is bad ever unless it’s like Really Bad which it never will be in his eyes

He loves anything and everything you do u are so precious

You have a permanent support system within the man

Google

Used to see art as pointless

Then comprehended the chemical release it causes in the brain and thought that was fine

Then saw you get really mad with something you were working on and got confused again?

If art no make good chemical, why art?

He still doesn’t understand, but that’s ok

You tried to get him to make something once

He just. Kinda. Made a buncha ones and zeroes

You still framed it and hung in on the wall and he got embarrassed

If he could blush, he would

If you draw him he looks like he doesn’t care but it’s at that point he decides he would die for you

Primary objective: answer questions as quickly as possible. Secondary objective: make u happy. Tertiary objective is to destroy mankind

If you draw bing that will disappear IMMEDIATELY you have BETRAYED him

If you ask for a color palette recommendation he Always says the google colors. Always.

You might’ve thought he was going for an rgby type of thing. But then you realize.

He is in charge of your financing. He will tell you the most efficient ways to make money as an artist and you follow then

He is also in charge of making sure you FUCKING EAT A MEAL

“But isn’t an objective to destroy mankind?” shut up he’s not happy about it either

Despite his best efforts he loves you and that ain’t gonna change

Illinois

Doesn’t fully understand

He needs to be outside at all times and cannot stay in one place

And you’re like??? Required to stay still???? For prolonged amounts of time????? Disgusting. Anyway, whatcha workin’ on?

He might ask you to try and teach him

If you do try he gives up almost immediately

Sometimes you just get so into it that you forget to do basic things and he gets upset

(i.e. eating, sleeping, living, etc.)

He gets worried about you

He is a hypocrite bc he does the same

He will drag you to bed, motherfucker

Honestly he might lock your shit somewhere until you fucking take care of yourself. it’s like a hostage situation god

“Where the fuck did you put it” “I have no clue what you mean. I might know if you eat your dinner, though”

Asshole (affectionate)

Sometimes you like make faces when you try to draw a person and it’s hilarious and cute to him

He looks at your drawings the moment you walk away but acts like he doesn’t care

He cares a lot

Will support you no matter what but will also tell you without hesitation if he thinks something looks shit

Listen he’s out of line but he’s right

Eric

Loves you a lot and will support anything and everything you choose to do or make

Drawing? Awesome! Painting? Wonderful! Animation? Superb!

He often wants to buy you supplies or something but he does not know what anything is

Fuck is a chalk pencil???? What are gel pens vs normal pens?????? Watercolor????? What the fuck are you saying??????????

Will subtly drop hints that you could,,,, draw him,,,,, maybe,,,,, if u wanna 

And by subtly I mean he starts to ask and then starts crying

If you draw him he will cry again he loves u so much 

If he ever were to get a tattoo it’d be something u drew. Nothing else is as important to him at the moment

He enjoys photography and film, and likes to try and bond with you over artistic things

I mean. Some things overlap.

You could talk about a single drawing for hours and he’d listen intently the whole time

Don’t ask him for feedback, it’s always some version of “it’s perfect and I love you”

Even if he hates it

Which,,,,, he might hate it sometimes

He’s not a good reviewer. 2/10, very biased

He likes to take photos when you’re in the zone

If you tell him to delete them he will

While secretly making one his home screen

Host

Hey, he gets it

He writes, he understands the hyperfocus

Sometimes he wouldn’t move from his chair for a day because he was busy writing a script

That being said, you probably have to be the one to get him to take care of himself

Or you have to take turns

Otherwise you’re both gonna fucking die

He asks you to describe your art to him and tries to picture it.

He’ll tell you if he thinks it probably looks good or bad

You shouldn’t take it to heart because he can’t see it

He is a bastard sometimes

“Well, what do you think?” “I think it looks fantastic” “Thanks, babe” “...” “... you think you’re fucking funny, don’t you”

He asks if you can draw him sometimes

No, he won’t see it, but he’ll appreciate the sentiment if you do

He will ask for your opinion on his scripts sometimes

If you say it’s bad he gets really defensive

You work in the same room a lot of the time and forget the other is there

One of you has to preemptively order food or like set a timer so you can goddamn Survive

You’ll be fine

[rinofwater]

Okay okay okay so I've wanted to respond to this post for a while now because it's definitely one of those interesting ambiguous discussions you can have around the show and I'm still not going to be coming away with a solid answer but just some things my friend and I have discovered in the symbolism around the otherself that are worth considering and throwing into the discussion

First and foremost, there is a time or two we see them separately, but it's hard to tell when it's meant to be taken literally and when it's artistic license (Nopperu Bou is heavily implied to be happening in Ochou's mind so by the time the two them are on the screen together--Kusu in front of her and the other behind her with the sword out--it could be a literal separation or it could be an artistic one in a mind space where reality is a little more fluid than what we think, like Kusu's still got the markings on his face while he's talking to Ochou but we can't see the eye on the back of his kimono to see if it's open or shut, and we can also see the golden bands already snaked up and down the other's arms, but in usual release scenes you can see the colors and markings draining from Kusu's face and clothes and going onto the hyper form, and this is all of course assuming you don't ascribe to the take that he never actually drew the sword in the first place or actually did the excorsism and was just trying to get through to Ochou before she *really* became a mononoke like everything about this arc is wild and abstract right?; there's also the swapping off the mirror in Umi Bozu which is NOT set in someone's head but the colors get all weird when the hand-off happens as if they can only meet in some weird liminal space, so again, artistic license or meant to be taken literally? Who knows?)

With those considerations being presented, I now want to point out that a lot of the symbolism attached to the otherself is tiger symbolism, as opposed to the strong ties to kitsune and Inari that Kusu has. Like there's some promotional drawings that have him petting some tigers, Kusu napping on one while the other watches over him, the golden bands across his body compared to the swirls on his face look a lot like stripes and other tiger-like markings, and tigers have a prominent place in Chinese and Japanese mythology as being powerful guardians, kings of all quadripedal creatures, the earth-grounded yin to the dragon's yang. Tiger yokai (Byakko) even have while fur, apparently very similar in appearance to a bengal tiger (and with that barely off-white hair with the otherself, it just ties it in more). The yin energy also ends up being important too in this case because that's going to be your passive energy, your "lying in wait until you find the right moment to strike" energy, and since he can't come out until specific information is established, that could tie back in too

And MOST interestingly: there's a Japanese saying that when translated to English equates to something like "a fox borrowing the power of a tiger," which is to say somebody's acting like hot shit when they're not really, but when taken literally...we've already mentioned that Kusu has a lot to do with foxes, and the other has a lot to do with tigers. Also, in the Ayakashi Bakeneko arc, Kusu's very insistent that he's just a normal human, there's nothing special about him, even if he can draw the sword there's no guarantee he'll succeed because the sword is being wielded by a human (how much of this is a lie or otherwise a manipulation of the truth and how much of this can be taken at face value is...again highly subjective and up to interpretation, this is the Highly Subjective And Up To Interpretation show after all), but the way he insists on the distinction implies there's at least some level of distinction between the two of them as entities that exist in this world

What is that distinction exactly? I'm gonna be honest, after all that I have no clue, I've been trying to chase the threads wherever they might lead and that could still go with them being separate entities in one body or being two sides of the same person or anything in between, but I think it's at least worth bringing all of that into the convo

A question that pops up in my head a lot pertaining to Kusuriuri and Hyper.

Are they two different people? Or is hyper just a physical manifestation of Kusuriuri's power? Of course, we can't forget the options of Hyper being a different entity entirely that shares a body with him. (I.e shared body trope)

I love the idea that Hyper is an alter-Ego formed by the motives to slay Mononoke, or just a drive for good in general. I've read many pieces of fiction where a character has a so called alter-Ego, but none are ever separate from the host. Now that I think of it, do we ever see hyper separate from Kusuriuri besides his 'transformation' scenes? I can't wrap my head around it. It also bugs me that we never get ANY clarification as to what hyper is, and I think that's just what makes mononoke the thrilling, mysterious series that it really is.

[kaepop-trash]

Hey can you do a drabble with johnny where y/n and him share there kinks in a pillowtalk and even though they are timid (?) at first they encourage each other to speak.

And can you make it fluffy? Or like i dont mind how you make it i trust your writing style anyway😂😊😊😘😘

This started a whole discourse between me and two other people on what we think Johnny’s kinks are so genuine gratitude to you for that. After careful consideration, I came on these. This was very fun to write. I really wish people were this comfortable communicating in real life. I wish I was this comfortable communicating in real life.

I want you to picture this happening after the costco scene in Unintended Consequences, that is important to keep in mind. Thank you for saying you have trust in my writing because it makes one of us. I hope you like this!

-

Johnny looked up when the door of his bedroom opened, smiling when she walked in. She returned his welcoming smile with a tired one.

“I can’t believe you’re still awake.” She dropped her purse beside the door, “I’m sorry, the meeting lasted longer than I anticipated. We were supposed to go for dinner.” She sighed.

Johnny shook his head, “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He took his laptop off his lap and placed it on the bed. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” He slipped out of bed, smiling at the way she fluttered her eyes away to the floor at his words.

Johnny definitely enjoyed how she looked when she was flustered a little too much.

"Are you hungry?" He asked.

She groaned, "No I was chewing on these crackers from a basket somebody gave me at the office. They were actually really good." She recalled.

"I'm famished." Johnny smiled as he came up to her.

She gave a look that was somewhere between surprise and apology. "You haven't eaten yet? It's midnight!" She sighed. Johnny shook his head. A small smile tugging at his lips from her reprimand, "I’m going to take a shower and then we’ll eat okay?”

-

“Why are people sending you baskets?” Johnny questions as they ate the food Johnny ordered hours ago. She turned to look at him, holding back a smile. With a suspicious gaze, Johnny picked up his phone.

“It’s your birthday next week.” Johnny snorted once he checked the date.

She laughed, “Remember last year?” The look on his face made her laugh some more.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Johnny sounded offended, “I was still on thin ice with Sooyoung then. Imagine how it felt when she told me it was your birthday and I had no clue.” He sulked making her bite back her laugh.

“She only told you because she knew I wouldn’t.” (Y/N) shrugged, shoving more food into her mouth.

“Why?”

“Just.” She shrugged again. “All my friends live in different cities, you and I were barely on our second month; so I didn’t really do much about it. It’s just another day to me anyway.”

Johnny hummed with sarcasm, “That’s why you were sitting on your couch eating ice cream and watching HBO?” He clicked his tongue, disappointment clear on his face.

Her brows creased, “Hey! Nothing wrong with eating your favourite flavour of ice cream and watching your favourite show for the ninth time.”

“Yes.” Johnny sat back in his chair, patience written all over his face. “But we could have done that together.”

She chewed on her lips at that, before clicking her tongue. “You came over anyway!” She laughed, “With cake and that lemon chicken I really like. You’re the best boyfriend.” She puckered her lips at him and made kissy noises from across the table making him scoff. “It was the middle of the week! I didn’t want to be a bother, so I didn’t tell you. It’s whatever.” She dismissed the idea. “Don’t be mad.” She gave him a cheeky grin. "I'm yours for the day this time." She promised.

Johnny huffed, “Just watch.” He pointed his fork at her, “This time I’m going to go all out.” She groaned at the promise, making a smirk lift his lips. “So many gifts, (Y/N). Just watch.” He threatened. “So many.”

“Johnny.” She whined.

“No, see.” He sat up in his chair, his eyes glinting. “I know you better now. I know exactly what to give you.” He sounded very sure. "So you don't have to be self-righteous."

“And what’s that?”

“Things you want but put off buying. Like that kitchen knife you were eyeing at the mall. Or those scented candles.” He recalled with such impeccable memory that she would refuse if she wasn’t so touched.

Johnny drew his lower lip in with his teeth, thinking over something and then letting it go, “I’m also getting you some things I want.”

“Like what?” She raised a brow.

He gave her a secretive smile, “You’ll see.”

She grimaced, “Why so many?”

“Because I want to.” Johnny got out of his chair, picking up their empty plates. She got up and followed him towards the kitchen, “You never let me buy you anything! Your birthday is an opportunity.” He put the plates in the sink, giving her a chaste kiss on her temples. "And don't say you can get it yourself or I'll add another gift to my list." He said like he read her mind.

She bit her lips, “I let you buy me food.” She protested softly.

The incredulous look Johnny gave her made her giggle. “Basic nourishment, (Y/N). What a standard you set.” He huffed.

“You’re into that aren’t you?” She said softly.

Johnny stopped just as he scrubbed the first plate, turning to her. “Nourishment?” He scoffed, amusement painting on his face. “As a general rule of life, yes.”

She rolled her eyes, “It pleases you, giving people things?” She clarified.

“I guess.” He said slowly, looking back at the plate.

“You even got Mark an xbox for something you refuse to tell me about.” She scoffed.

Johnny smiled to himself, “That’s between him and me.” He wiped his hands after finishing his chore.

She hummed, “So I was right.” She said to herself mostly. When Johnny looked up at her in question, she bit down on her lip. “Last week. At costco?” Her heartbeat sped up a little as she recalled the afternoon.

“Oh.” Johnny blushed and looked away, a sight that was delightful to experience. “Yeah. I mean,” He paused, letting out a short laugh. “I thought I made that obvious.” She could tell he was trying to be nonchalant, but his cheeks were already turning pink.

“What else?” She questioned.

“What else what?” He turned around to face her, pulling her into his chest with a quick tug at her waist.

“What else are you into?”

Johnny gave her a devious grin, “So we’re doing this now?”

She looked down to his chest, “I mean. A year is long enough for us to discuss what we’re into. Sexually speaking.” Her warming cheeks made her look lower, to her own fingers.

Johnny hummed, tightening his grip. “Since we’re discussing this. Let’s start with you.”

That made her look up at him, “I asked you first!” She protested. “You should start.” She narrowed her eyes.

He nodded, “Come to bed at least, we’re both very tired.”

-

They both lay on their sides, watching each other. The soft light of the lamp above their head illuminated his face, his eyes covered by the shadow his hair left.

Johnny’s eyes shifted to the mirror on the wall opposite his bed, “I like watching you in the mirror sometimes. Watching us, I mean.” When his eyes came back to her, she could tell he was being careful. It made her heart flutter.

“I’ve noticed.” She smiled.

Johnny laughed, flipping over to look at the ceiling, “You’re making me nervous.” He groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I’m very vocal in bed. So I enjoy that in a partner too.” He nodded to himself.

“Like telling you how good it feels?” He questioned.

Johnny flopped his head to the side to face her again, his hair landing on his eyes, “Exactly.” The look he gave her seared her skin, “Also what you want me to do. I’m into verbal affirmation.”

She hummed, “Got anything I wasn’t already aware of?” She raised a brow.

Johnny grinned sheepishly, “Your turn. I’m trying to ease into it.” He winked, “What does my baby like, hmm?” He reached out to lace his fingers through hers, rubbing his fingers on his palm.

She chewed on her bottom lip, “There’s something about the way you run your fingers through my hair.” She fluttered her eyes away from his, focusing instead on his fingers. “Actually, fingers in general. Very nice, very attractive.” She lifted his hand, inspecting it.

“I’m flattered.” Johnny chuckled, “What else?” His voice came out rougher.

Her heart hammered in her throat, “Sometimes, when you’re cross at me.” She turned to look at him, an embarrassed laugh emitting from her lips. “You sound too good scolding me, Johnny. I didn’t know I could be into that.” She huffed, sounding a little annoyed at the notion.

“Now this. This I knew.” A smile tugged at his lips.

"I like taking control sometimes." Her cheeks felt too hot, "Especially if I can be on top." She kept her eyes on his palm.

"Oh." Johnny's voice dropped a little more. "Wow." He huffed, "Okay."

She looked up at him with an amused look in her eyes, the eager nod he gave her giving her the confidence to continue.

"I also," She paused and took a breath. Her exhale came out as a flustered laugh, making her smile.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Johnny grinned.

“I’m not!” She interjected, "Just give me a moment." She groaned, closing her eyes and ignoring her now burning cheeks. "I want to sit on your face." She scrunched her face, lifting a hand to hide it.

Johnny laughed loudly, the sound making her let his hand go to shove his chest.

"Don't laugh at me, Johnny!" She whined, "I'm going to go home. This is the worst idea I've ever had." She risked taking the hand off her eyes to find him grinning at her affectionately.

"You're so cute, (Y/N). That's not bad at all. It's so hot, I'd do anything you want me to know, baby." He brushed his knuckles on her pink cheeks. "You can tell me anything." He mumbled.

"I know!" She defended, "I know." She groaned. "This is just–" She paused, sighing. “This is just new to me.”

“Kinks?” Johnny gave her a skeptical look. She kicked his shin, making Johnny laugh.

“Communicating about them. I just thought,” She took a nervous breath. “I want you to be comfortable with your desires, you know?” She came a little closer to him. "I wanted to know what you like.

Johnny looked over her face, “I am very comfortable with how much I desire you. Too comfortable, in fact.” He raised a meaningful brow, biting back his smile.

“No.” She took another breath, thinking her words over once more. “I have a suspicion.” She breached slowly.

“No (Y/N),” The serious look on his face made her pause. “Mark and I are just friends.”

She snorted, making Johnny grin. “That’s very reassuring. But,” She reached out to put a hand on his chest. He hummed when she did, the sound reverberating in his chest against her palm. She kept her eyes focused on the way her hand rose and fell against his chest, “Sometimes I feel that you’re too careful with me. I don’t know whether it’s because of the fact that I haven’t had too many partners or because you’re afraid I’ll freak out or something.” She looked up with wide eyes when his breathing seemed to rise, her hand moving more rapidly. “I could be wrong. It’s just something I was wondering.” She looked away again, losing her nerves.

This time Johnny put his fingers under her chin, lifting it to meet his eyes, “Hey. You can tell me about anything you wonder in passing, hmm?” His eyes glowed in the dim light, she nodded. “I am gentle with you. I guess, some of it is because I am nervous of how you’ll react. But mostly because I love you. I want to treat you so well, like I believe you deserve.”

“What are you nervous about?” Curiosity took over her hesitation as she finally felt her questions being answered, “I can assure you, that you can’t break me in half.” She added with a snort, a smile playing on her lips.

Johnny mirrored it, “I know.”

“Then?”

“I mean,” Johnny paused, “I guess.” He sighed. He rubbed his face with his hand.

It was strange to see Johnny flustered about something. It was rare, and it never failed to catch her off-guard. Between the both of them, Johnny was comfortable being the one always sure about things; he was the one who not only knew what he wanted, but was enviably vocal about it. She did her part and waited patiently for him to find his words.

Johnny laughed, “You always do this to me.” He groaned, turning back to face her with renewed certainty in his eyes, “There is a laundry list of things I am so tempted to do to you. But I would never want to make you uncomfortable. I guess,” He paused again.

When she laughed at the repeated phrase, he joined with a pained one. “You’re laughing at me.” He groaned, the irony not lost on him.

“Only because I think you’re so cute.” She tugged at his t-shirt, leaving a kiss on his nose. He scrunched it, as if to protest, but it only cemented her statement.

He trapped her in his arms, pecking her lips a few times with a smile. “Exactly. I think I like being cute around you. I want to be your cute, domestic boyfriend Johnny. I didn't think I'd like that role as much I do and I was worried–”

“That I would stop thinking you’re cute if you spank me?” She scoffed.

Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, taking a strained inhale.

She reached up to leave a soft kiss on his eye, “We can always try it.” She said softly. His exhale was equally strained. “And other things." She hummed, "Doesn't mean we lose the comfort we have. If anything, I want you to be more comfortable. Which is why I wanted to know. You’re always holding back. I see it in the way you look at me sometimes.” She kissed the other lid, “I just want to know what it is. Be honest with me.” She kissed his forehead, “Trust me, so I can show that I trust you.” Johnny sighed at those words. “I don’t want your restraint.” She murmured against his cheek.

“You really cannot say that when you take it as a personal challenge to pull away all of my restraint. You’ve been doing it since we met.” He opened his eyes, chiding her.

The smile she gave him at that, shy but unapologetic, made him think that today would really be the day he would tell her of the things he only thought of mid-week when he missed her touch a little too much.

“See.” She smiled against his cheek, “That’s my kink.” She reached a hand out to rest on his neck, nails dragging up into his hair. Johnny shivered at the action. "I just love it. Pulling your restraint away from you slowly, watching you try so hard to keep your self-control together. It's so hot watching it fall apart." Both their breathing matched, heavy and eager. "You're so hot."

"Wretched little thing." He mumbled into her neck, making her skin erupt into goosebumps.

She smiled against his chin, "There's also that isn’t there? The difference in our general stature." A short breathless laugh left her when Johnny groaned, the sound shooting down into the depths of her belly. “What is it about it? I was always curious.” She pulled back from. Somehow looking into his dark eyes and finger-dragged hair was worse than being close to him.

“I just lose my mind over it.” He breathed out the confession, “You're so small, so precious." He laughed at his own words. "That sounds ridiculous out loud but," He chewed his bottom lip sore, her eyes settling on the now swollen flesh, "How your hands fit into mine. How you fit into me.” He paused, dragging his teeth over his lower lip again. “When I’m inside you.” He closed his eyes again, his breathing rapid.

She felt herself rub her thighs together. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. She wanted to know these things about him, because was started to fall in love with him. She wanted to see every part of him and reassure him about it. Soothing the small doubts she knew her wildly confident Johnny still held. Instead, the room felt charged with the growing tension.

“Yeah?” She encouraged him.

“You take me so well. You swallow me with your pretty little cunt.” He groaned.

It was her turn to close her eyes, her breathing joining his in pace. This wasn’t at all how this was supposed to go, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind.

“There’s also something,” He continued. “That I think you’d like.” He granted her the mercy of closing the space between them again. She opened her eyes, waiting for him to finish. “Sometimes I think of how it would feel to have my fingers wrapped around your pretty neck.” He hummed, raising his hand to brush his thumb against her throat.

“Fuck.” She grumbled, “Johnny how could you possibly think I’d mind any of these things?” She sounded the cocktail of exasperation and arousal she felt. “Do all of those to me. God you’re absolutely insane for thinking I’d be adverse to any of these.” She whined, squirming as her body searched for friction. “I thought you’d say you want to hang me from the ceiling or something.”

Johnny's laugh sounded more like a pant. "No, nothing that intense." He brushed his thumb over her clavicles. "I think the furthest I'll go is a foot fetish." He sighed.

Her eyes blinked open, "You have a foot fetish?" She asked, surprised. Johnny gave her a nod. "Now see that one I'm going to judge you for." She put a finger on his chest, finding her volume again.

Johnny bit back a smile, "Why does that get such an extreme reaction?" A short laugh bubbled up his throat.

"Are you going to make me send you pictures of my feet?" She furrowed her brows, but her eyes betrayed the humour.

"Not if you don't want to, no."

"But you'll look at them? Like in a sexual way?" She questioned.

Johnny smirked, "How do you know I don't already? You have nice feet. Especially when you paint your nails or wear heels." He took the finger she put on her chest and bought it to his lips.

"That's a little weird I'm not going to lie to you baby." She scrunched her nose.

Johnny scoffed, "So you can like my hands but I can't like your feet?" He raised his brows at her.

She chewed on her lips, caught in the trap of his words. "That's a fair point. I guess you can keep that, then." She gasped when he took her index finger between his teeth, biting down just hard enough for the blood pool into her stomach.

"Don't knock it till you try it, (Y/N)." He warned, his tongue grazing against the flesh now imprinted with the mark of his teeth.

"What exactly am I trying?" She raised a brow.

"One of these days, I just might show you. For now, we both need to sleep." He dropped her hand.

She looked at him, dumbfounded. "We aren't having sex?"

Delight gleamed in his eyes at the indignation in her voice. "Tomorrow." The single word was a bond.

She groaned, too tired herself to put up a fight. "Absolute tease." She rolled her eyes, "That should have made it onto your list. Probably worse than the feet thing, as well." She huffed.

Johnny laughed again, pulling her closer to him till his chin rested on her crown. "I love you so very much." He sighed, the words making her chest bubble like a freshly popped can of soda.

She nuzzled into him, the action significant enough to make him smile. "I hope me thinking your feet are sexy isn't the deal breaker because I don't want to lose you." He mixed the heartfelt words with a lighthearted jab, something very quintessentially 'Johnny' to do.

"You wish you could get rid of me that easy, big boy." She shoved him lightly, "You're my daddy now." She tried to joke but Johnny groaned.

"Stop saying that." He warned, "I was hoping we'd go for brunch tomorrow. So we need to sleep."

"Such a father thing to say Mr. John Suh." She teased further.

Johnny chuckled into her hair. "Okay, enough. I didn't tell you all of those things just to be teased." He whined.

She shuffled to look up at him, "That's exactly what you signed up for with me." She pecked his lips once, "Good night." She smiled against them.

-

Send me an ask about a character from one of my fics in a scenario and I'll write a drabble.

Character from: Unintended Consequences

[cellydawn]

sans IS gaster (OR the sans theory masterpost pt. 2)

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

(drawn by me, color by @magenteel​)

Previously, we discussed: Sans and his hand in the destruction of a world, his connection to Ice-E and Deltarune, and how he relates to Gaster. We’re going to continue the thread we left off on.

Section III - Gaster (Cont.)

Snails are mentioned too many times throughout Undertale for them to not be of any significance. As it turns out, they are pretty important in unraveling the mystery behind Gaster and Sans.

When you enter the area with Napstablook’s snail farm, you’ll notice that Sans’s theme is playing despite him not making an appearance. 

In one of Papyrus’s phone calls, he mentions that Sans recently bought snail-shaped pasta and says “He’ll probably fill them with hotdogs and slime.” Toriel also owns a book called “72 User for Snails”. Track 72 in the Undertale OST is “Song That Might Play When You Fight Sans”. That’s multiple times that Sans is likened to snails. 

Snails belong under the taxonomic class Gastropoda. Gasterpods.

These long pauses between words and phrases are not unlike how Gaster speaks.

Here is Gaster speaking with us in the opening sequence of Deltarune. And...

Now. Let’s move on.

(More under the cut.)

Mus_smile is the track that plays in room_gaster. This is my personal opinion, but the character that is the most strongly associated with smiles is Sans.

And Sans is certainly intelligent enough to be the prime suspect for being Gaster. The proper name for his namesake is Comic Sans Microsoft, or Comic Sans MS. MS can also be used as a suffix for the name of a person who has a degree in a Master of Science.

Sans also owns quantum physics books. The subject of Gaster’s scientific research is revealed in Entry #17: “photon readings negative”. Photons are described as a "quantum" of electromagnetic energy, and are of course within the realm of study under quantum physics.

Gaster, like Sans, is brilliant yet slow-working. Slower than Alphys, who is repeatedly noted to have nothing to show yet as the royal scientist in the eyes of the people and is shown to slack off constantly.

Gaster is implied to have perished, and I suppose he did, in a way, if these speculations do end up being correct. However, there’s something more to this statement. Ghosts are sort of in the realm of being not-alive, and Sans and Napstablook have a surprising level of comparability.

They both:

Get likened to “garbage”

Have connections to snails (Napstablook runs the snail farm)

Speak completely in lower case

Pretend to sleep and say “Z’s” out loud

Have black “sclera”

And the black sclera is also a topic of its own; it’s equated with the status of being brought back to life. Being “determined”. (See: Asriel and Undyne)

Undyne is especially suspect due to the strange right-eye-phenomenon she has in common with Sans, with spears shooting out of hers. Spears that are actually colored light blue, not unlike Sans’s eye. 

To recap: 

Sans and Gaster are heavily involved in Deltarune

They have been displaced from time and space

They have connections to snails

They are both doctors with knowledge in quantum physics

They both “fell” into the abyss

They both talk similarly

They are both slow

They are both characterized by their smile

They are both some degree of dead

Sans is Gaster or a significant piece of him. Sans has Gaster Blasters because they belong to him. If all prior conjecture proves true, he is and will be responsible for the destruction of a world or THE world within Deltarune. After all, the Latin definitions of “gaster” and “sans” are to destroy and to be without, respectively. 

That brings us to the next subject: why is Sans Sans? More specifically, why is that his name? Why even change his name?

Below is the Japanese version of the fun event with Sans’s phone call. It features completely different dialogue from its English counterpart. 

Am I Licca-chan? (Select No) Then from now on call me Sans. I need to check every once in a while. I won’t know when my name has changed. 

“Licca-chan” is a well-known Barbie-esque dress-up doll in Japan, so popular to the point where it is even used as a synonym for other dolls from different companies. Perhaps it implies that Sans is adaptable due to Licca-chan’s nature as a doll and how she is in a constant state of change to reflect the times. It also seems to be a pun on “liquor” because Sans was talking about beer in the English version. I tried to scour the Japanese fandom for clues, but they also seemed stumped. If anyone has any ideas on what this could mean, please let me know!

Regardless, “Sans” doesn’t seem to be his actual name. Perhaps his true name was Gaster...?

Additionally, If the player changes the name of the fallen child via going into the code, this message appears in the stats menu. The vernacular is very Sans-like, with his frequent use of question tags at the end of his sentences (I counted 14 huh’s from Sans).

Finally, let’s talk about the number six. We know that it’s Gaster’s number--All of the explicitly Gaster-related fun events trigger for fun values in the sixties, Gaster’s stats are all comprised of 6′s, Gaster’s “typer-value” is 666--you get the idea.

The concept art Toby drew for the Alarm Clock’s character screen features what is presumably Sans and the number six.

“The Choice”--the track that plays during Sans’s judgements--is “Undertale” slowed down by 666%.

Section IV - Angels and Demons (The “Why”)

In modern day culture, 666 is closely associated with the devil. The Book of Revelation (13:17-18) asserts that 666 is “the number of a man” (this is important, and we’ll come back to it later) and is “the number of the Beast”. The Beast is mentioned as “coming out of the abyss”. 

Sounds a lot like someone else we know, doesn’t it? And how fitting for Sans, the one who judges our sins and demands us “to burn in hell”.

But if we go further, the Beast of Revelation is described to have seven heads representing seven kings. The beast itself is an eighth king who is of the seven and "was and is not and shall ascend out of the bottomless pit, and go into perdition." 

Chara is an eighth of the seven fallen children. 

There’s something Chara, Sans, and Gaster all share, and it’s their association with demons.

Here is an excerpt from the Cutting Room Floor:

Among the four strings in version 1.0, the last one, designated by variable “demond”, stands out for two reasons. 

 The letter “d” is separate from the other letters denoting the demon variables--the rest, “x”, “y”, and “z” are in sequential alphabet order.

The speech pattern of the last string is different from the others. It has that signature question tag at the end of the sentence that a certain character is known for.

In version 1.001, the strings clearly reflect Chara’s speech pattern. This time, all the variables are in sequential order from “a” to “d”. 

Pieces of dialogue at the near-end of a genocide route from Chara and Sans. Recall that Chara is using the same “Now” from earlier with Gaster and Sans.

Chara makes a reference to Banana Yoshimoto's book “Kitchen”. Take note of the page number.

Chara is also linked to the number nine. It’s the highest achievable stat in-game. It’s the stat of the locket and real knife. It’s how much damage Chara deals. It’s also the number six flipped upside down. 

The connections are undeniable. 

And yet, it goes further. Let’s take a look at how Christmas comes in to play.

In Deltarune, there are a few references to it, the most foremost probably being the importance of Noelle Holiday as a character. We also get Lancer’s laugh and the joke with “Krismas”.

Back to Undertale, there is significant Christmas iconography represented by “Gyfmas” and Gyftrot (bearing a strong resemblance to Photoshop Flowey, the DT Extractor, and Gaster Blasters).

What I’d like to focus on is Santa.  Papyrus describes him as “a chubby, smiling man who loves to surprise people.” From the thank you note addressed to Santa we find in Sans’s room, we can assume that Sans is a Santa, at least to Papyrus. It’s pretty fitting, since Sans can be described as someone who “knows if [we’ve] been bad or good”. Maybe he can even tell if we’re sleeping or awake with how the Dark World appears to be linked with sleep and dreams (please read my theory on Sans being a Darkner for more on this).

So we can reasonably conclude that Sans presents himself as a friendly, child-oriented figure, in-line with the nature of Comic Sans, a font for children, and Ice-E, a mascot of a company marketed towards children.

…

Santa is an anagram of Satan. 

…

To recap: Gaster’s association with the number 666 marks him as a “demon”. Chara and Sans are also called demons and similarly have connections to the number 6. This is more evidence that Gaster and Sans is or used to be the same people, and Chara has some form of correspondence with them.

I failed to mention before that there is actually a second Beast of Revelation “from the Earth��� with "two horns like a lamb”. From the “earth” like Flowey, with horns like Asriel. 

Asriel is most likely the “Angel” depicted in the prophecy within the scope of Undertale; he’s named similarly to Azrael, an angel of death, and one of his attacks is literally called “Angel of Death”. He also bears a striking resemblance to the Deltarune in his God of Hyperdeath form.

Surprise, surprise, he and Sans also share parallels. 

Let’s start with their introductions. “Flowey the flower”. “Sans the skeleton”. It’s a similarly alliterative greeting and they’re both using fake names.

Mirrored dialogue yet again...

…and similar meta-commentary.

These three characters--Sans/Gaster, Chara, and Flowey/Asriel--they have all fallen. Gaster fell into his creation. Chara fell into the Underground. Asriel had “fallen down”. (Sans and Papyrus are also the only sibling pair other than Chara and Asriel. I won’t talk about Papyrus in this part though because this thing is shaping up to be too long already.)

What does this mean for Sans? I have a personal theory.

Above the entryway of the Judgement Hall, there is a reversed Deltarune. The triangles are inverted and the wings are more bat-like. In the room where only Sans appears, the same room that plays a version of “Undertale” slowed down 666%.

I think Sans is a candidate for the Angel prophesized to destroy the world in Deltarune. I think he is Sans Serif, a seraph. He fell into his experiment and became a “fallen” angel, a demon. 

The Angel’s Heaven mentioned alongside, on the other hand...  Heaven can also be used to refer to God. Dog is an anagram of God. 

Sans has many, many connections with dogs, especially one Annoying Dog. More on this next time.

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

[dragonrajafanfiction]

What is Bondarev (BSB ver) actually like in the novels? In my WIP, I’m trying to be as close to the lore as I can with certain parts, so it’s hard to write in a character that I have no clue what his personality actually is like. Also does he have a full name? Is Bondarev his first or last name? I noticed Herzog has a full name thanks to the Fandom wiki you and Hectab are working on :3

Ask and Ye shall receive. (very long post below with allllllllllll of the stuff you asked for.)

VERY HANDSOME

This was a man who was a sight to behold, handsome and straight, with iron gray hair neatly combed back and styled with hairspray, and a muscular body that was defined and supple. Many would describe him as sexy. The sentry had seen such handsome young officers in Moscow, but this one was too unbelievable. He was actually wearing only military shorts and sleeveless undershirt, sweating in the -10 degree wind. The man fished out a lighter from his shorts and lit it with aplomb, the sterling silver case etched with the words "70th anniversary of the October Revolution".

The sentry could not refuse this kindness and went over to light the cigarette.

"Here you go." The man tossed the lighter to the sentry, "In such a cold place, you need to use aviation kerosene with low freezing point, you should save that for the summer."

The sentry then realized that he still had the unlit lighter in his hand, the man's insight was actually keen to this point. Furthermore, people should be eager to find a warm place to rest at this moment. This also shows that he still has energy left for skiing in such extremely cold weather. The man took out a dark gray officer's uniform from his military duffel bag, and after a few moments, he finished putting it on and solemnly pinned a "Red Flag Medal" on his chest. A minute ago he was a skier, a minute later he had a frown of determination, a young man of power from Moscow.

"KGB Major Bondarev, I'm from Moscow." The man pulled out his papers, "Take me to Dr. Herzog and tell him that this is the moment of survival."

"Yes! Comrade Major!" The sentry saluted.

The man stated his identity in the simplest terms; he was an envoy from Moscow, a key member of the secret intelligence service. In the days of the Tsar, such a man was called a "minister".

********ICE PROOF*************

He pressed the detonator in his hand, after a short dull explosion, the marble base in the snow was blown up, Lenin bronze statue slanted in the snow. The noise of this micro-acoustic thunderstorm was so small that it was muffled by the wind within a few steps. The Black Swan Harbor is notoriously heavily guarded, but the most important aspect is the extreme cold, and standing outside for ten minutes on a night like this can lead to severe frostbite. Because of the blizzard, visibility was less than five meters. The soldiers did not expect anyone else to dare to move outside, and they ignored the fact that Bondarev had an extraordinary tolerance for the cold.

-----

"I sometimes think that people who like to drink can't be bad. So I like you a lot, you know vodka." Dr. Herzog removed the Makolov pistol and handed over a cold glass.

A light struck down from above, enveloping the Doctor and Bondarev. The glass reflected the light, as clear as the most expensive crystal glassware, but it was carved from a whole block of solid ice, pure ice, without any air bubbles, with cornflower patterns carved on the outer wall. The two men gently clinked their glasses and drank the wine in one gulp.

　　Bondarev played with the ice carved glass: "It's wonderful, the spirits wrapped in ice, as moving as a stunning young woman under the appearance of an iceberg. I think my hands will freeze and to it."

　　"Usually people who drink from such an ice glass have to wear leather gloves, and only people like you, Major, who are not afraid of the cold can hold it in their hands. It is carved from old ice in the -30 degree strata and also kept at -30 degrees, making it the coldest drinking vessel for the warmest of wines." The doctor said, He said so, but he was also holding the glass with his empty hand, his slender hand was stable and did not tremble at all because of the low temperature.

****** SUPPOSED ROYAL FAMILY and EXTREMELY RICH ***************

　　"Bondarev, a KGB major, from Moscow, these are the truth. I only concealed from you the name of my great-grandmother, her name was Nastasya Nikolaevna Romanova." Bondarev slowly pronounced this long, awkward name, like a magician reciting a forbidden spell.

　　The doctor was stunned: "Was it the last royal daughter of the Romanov dynasty?"

　　Nastasia was the last princess of the Romanov dynasty, the last dynasty to rule Russia until it was overthrown by the October Revolution in 1917. in 1918, the last Tsar Nicholas II and his entire family were secretly executed by the Red Army. Nastasia was the youngest daughter of Nicholas II, and although she was young, she was given the title of "Grand Duchess", which made her more honored than other royal princesses in Europe at the time, and princesses were required to curtsy and address her as "Your Imperial Highness" during their audiences. It was rumored that she was the only one who escaped execution, and that her name Nastasia meant "resurrection".

　　"Since there is still me, the grandson of the emperor, I can't say that she is the 'last' royal daughter." Bondarev smiled.

　　"How do you prove yourself?" The Doctor asked.

　　"I saw Rasputin's signature at the end of the tunnel, and that heretic who had been canonized had been here before, so I should say he was the one who found this cave, right?"

　　"Yes." The Doctor said, "This cave is his legacy."

　　"Then you must know that Rasputin was a guest of the Tsar and a close friend of Princess Nastasia. The fact that I could find this place means that I have Rasputin's secrets, secrets that he told my great-grandmother. This is the proof of my status as the last royal grandson of the Romanov dynasty." Bondarev held his head up proudly.

　　"So, what were the secrets that Rasputin revealed to Her Imperial Highness?"

　　Bondarev smiled slyly: "I think there are certain things I know that you do not know, and of course there are things you know that I do not, so we might as well exchange information about each other. Then we might be able to sit down and talk about cooperation."

　　"After you." The Doctor raised his muzzle.

　　"This matter begins with my great-grandmother's escape. A Red Army bullet did go through her heart and her body was thrown into an abandoned mine, but three days later she awoke and the wound miraculously healed. It was then that she remembered what Rasputin had told her, that Rasputin said he was willing to share the secrets of the world with his great-grandmother because she, like himself, was God's chosen one. Like Rasputin, she had an unparalleled power of life and could even return from hell. She later married a Red Army officer, and in those days the only way she could gain refuge was to marry a Red Army officer. My great-grandfather, who later stepped into the high ranks of the military, was a very good man and always protected my great-grandmother from revealing her identity. Great-grandmother would sometimes wake up in a dream and shout, 'The Red Army is coming with guns,' and great-grandfather would reassure her, 'I am the Red Army, and as long as I live, the Red Army guns will only protect you.'"

　　"Touching love." The doctor said faintly.

　　"Great-grandmother decided to give up her past identity, so she rarely talked about the past of the Romanov dynasty, with the exception of one thing. She bade her great-grandfather that there were relics of God in the north of Siberia, which the saint Rasputin had told her about. That saint found the cave where God created life on the shore of the icy sea. But he did not announce it to the world, but sealed the miracle with iron water, because the miracle had degenerated into the cradle of the devil, and inside it were hidden fallen angels. Generations of our family descendants have to be on guard against the reopening of that cave, and the day it reopens, the end comes with it."

　　"So you are here to check if we are guarding the miracle properly?"

　　"No, no, my great-grandmother was a good and devout Orthodox Christian, but I am not. I have a great curiosity about everything, and after I inherited the secret, I am bent on finding the miracle. If I were to find it, I would definitely open it and take a look. Not long ago I found an engineering map from the ruined archives." Bondarev drew out the map roll and rolled it along the ice toward the Doctor, "It marks the elevator that leads deep into the tundra."

　　The Doctor scanned the map, "It's not the original map, someone drew it from memory."

　　"It was drawn by a madman who used to be the engineer battalion commander of the 13th Konrad Infantry Division and was ordered to participate in the excavation of the tunnel, after which he was brainwashed by drugs and became a regular in a mental hospital. All he remembered was that he was engaged in a big project on the northern coast of Siberia, and the project was to dig a cave. Suddenly I realized I had found a breakthrough. But as the investigation progressed, I found that the matter was becoming more and more mysterious. Many years ago, the army had built a port in the almost unnavigable northern part of Siberia, about which there was no information, and even the coordinates had been erased. Below that port, sappers had dug through the hard permafrost and opened a long-closed cave. So I decided to come and see for myself. As a KGB officer, I easily applied for a charter to investigate this mysterious port, so that I could drive in as the 'Minister of the Admiralty'. Sure enough, I found Rasputin's signature at the end of the passage, and I finally arrived at the place I had dreamed of since childhood." Bondarev looked around, "But it doesn't look like there's anything interesting here."

　　"I'm sure you noticed when you came here that the closer you got to the door where Rasputin signed, the more bones there were in the tundra, and they all crawled out through a gap in the rock wall. It was those things that Rasputin was talking about when he said this cave would breed demons. But now the cave is dead, and the mysterious forces in the cave have dissipated."

　　"I don't think so. If this cave was no longer valuable, you would have left long ago."

　　"If this cave was really valuable, I should have shot you and monopolized the secrets of this place."

　　"Wait a minute! I have brought you a gift! Won't you take a look at the gift before shooting?'' Bondarev took an envelope from inside his clothes and slid it along the ice toward the Doctor, by which he showed that he had absolutely no intention of resisting.

　　The doctor tore open the envelope, inside was a Swiss bank cashier's check - a cashier's check for $200 million.

　　"This is a rare and large check, what do you want to buy from me with this check?" 'Doc asked.

　　"Not a purchase, just a gift." Bondarev smiled, "We believe this gift will be useful to you. Your research has been going on for decades, consuming huge amounts of state funds every year, and it must not be finished yet, right? But now that the Soviet Union is about to split, your backers have fallen, which means you no longer have access to funding to complete your research, and no one to help you keep it secret."

　　"It does sound like I'm facing a lot of trouble." The doctor said.

　　"Then why not work with my family? We know politics, we know technology, and we know war, and we're willing to invest in this cave as long as its secrets pay off. We can continue to support you in this project and share with you all the benefits it brings. I have already shown my sincerity and told you everything I know. Shouldn't you also tell me what I don't know? After that you will still have time to shoot me."

　　"You are very calm, Comrade Major. You think I won't shoot you if you produce this $200 million cashier's check, don't you?" There was a hint of sarcasm in the Doctor's tone.

　　"There are not many people in the world who can refuse two hundred million dollars." Bondarev smiled, "And killing me wasn't the best option. If I do not return safely to Moscow, the family will know that something has happened to me, and they will not spare you. At that time the secret of Black Swan Harbor will be made known to the world."

　　"Ten times." The doctor threw the cashier's check back to Bondarev.

　　Bondarev froze: "What did you say?"

　　"Your family needs to increase the bid tenfold. I need three years and two billion dollars to complete this research. At that time we will share the whole world."

　　"That amount is beyond my expectations and not easy to raise even for my family."

　　The Doctor laughed coldly: "It seems you really don't know the secret of this cave, in front of which two billion dollars is too small a figure, what is here no one can afford, it is priceless! Your family should be proud to offer this two billion dollars."

　　"Everything has a price, weapons, women, secrets, even souls." Bondarev said.

　　"But who can put a price on God?" The Doctor asked.

-------

The Lenin's mooring is only 40 kilometers from Black Swan Harbor, and they will be here soon. This new flare is so great that American spy satellites will recognize it as an aurora borealis." Bondarev said.

　　"You had said that the Lenin would not come." The doctor said.

　　"Moscow is not prepared to send the Lenin to Black Swan Harbo, but we can, and now the Lenin is at my family's beck and call."

　　Black shadows rose above the sea level, the roar of a giant bee on its wings approaching at high speed, snow dust twisted into a tornado by the helicopter's rotors, red five stars flashing in the white tornado. It was the "MiG 26" heavy helicopter, codenamed "Halo", one of the pride of the Soviet military industry. The helicopter hovered over the cast iron dock, the searchlights broke through the haze of the night, the hatch opened, and five captains lined up, saluting Bondarev. The communication lights below the belly of the plane blinked up, signaling greetings to Bondarev in Morse code.

　　"Glad to see you're safe and sound, Your Imperial Highness!" The doctor read out the greeting.

　　The fact that they called Bondarev "His Imperial Highness" instead of "comrade" meant that the helicopter and the Lenin on the icy sea were no longer loyal to the Soviet Union, but to the heir to the Romanov dynasty. The name Romanov is about to shine again after almost a century of obliteration in history, and with the power of the Dragons, it is not impossible for them to re-establish hegemony on Earth.

　　Bondarev handed a letter to the Doctor: "This is a letter I wrote to the family, please read it."

　　The Doctor scanned it and handed the letter back to Bondarev.

　　"If things go well, we will be able to relocate within a few weeks." Bondarev handed the letter to a captain who descended down the zip line, "We will build you a brand new research base in the warm and pleasant Baltic Sea, along with a vacation villa."

　　The captain placed a mouthful of boxes at the doctor's feet, containing a case of aged Red Label vodka.

　　"A small gift, so you don't have to worry about running out of booze until we leave Black Swan Harbor." Bondarev said.

　　"I guess I picked the right partner." The Doctor smiled.

***** HE VERY STRONG AND CAPABLE ***********

Bondarev looked alert, his muscles bulging under his uniform. He was a highly trained soldier, capable of breaking a wolf's neck with his bare hands, and had no need to fear this delicate boy, but not daring to take it lightly in the presence of something supernatural, he adjusted himself to a state of immediate danger.

------

Bondarev noticed a transparent figure flashed from his side. It was just a short blink of an eye, a fraction of a second, but Bondarev was trained to the rigors of the KGB and he was absolutely certain it was a person!

-------- IS A HYBRID THAT HAS NO ISSUE KILLING PEOPLE, INCLUDING KIDS ------------

The lieutenant on duty in the boiler room collapsed on the duty desk, a bottle of Red Label vodka still in his hand. A steel-core bullet had penetrated his heart, and Bondarev stood behind the lieutenant with his Makolov pistol.

---

At that moment the doctor heard the wind change behind his head, and the beam of the searchlight struck him. He turned sharply and saw huge black shadows hovering in the air, their rotor blades churning the snow into a flurry. It was Halo, the heavy helicopter from the Lenin, which had ventured to Black Swan Harbor in such bad weather.

　　"Didn't you say Halo couldn't fly in a snowstorm of this magnitude?" The Doctor froze. Something hard pressed against his back, it was Bondarev's Makarov pistol. One by one, the steel-core bullets pierced the Doctor's chest, tearing the aging heart into a million pieces. The Doctor spat out a mouthful of blood, mixed with fragments of his lungs, which had been destroyed in the process. He braced himself and turned his face to look at Bondarev, his eyes filled with shock.

　　"You can't complete the research without me ......," he hissed.

　　"We didn't even try to finish your research." Bondarev's pupils swirled with a gorgeous gold.

　　"Who the hell ...... are you?"

　　Bondarev held the Doctor in place and injected him with adrenaline using an air needle, "Hold on one more minute for the most magnificent scene."

　　The Black Swan Harbor suddenly trembled up tremendously, the sound of a series of explosions spread upward from the ground, but it was not a vacuum bomb detonated in advance, if it was a vacuum bomb, a square kilometer around would be leveled to the ground. A fire rose, and countless pieces of frozen earth spilled onto the frozen sea.

　　"Engineering explosive mines?" The Doctor asked in a hiss.

　　"The new engineering burst mines, even 10,000 years of permafrost, as long as the right eye is chiseled can be blown up. Now in a place you can't see, there is a huge hole with a depth of 180 meters, leading to Rasputin's cave, where we will use the laser to cut through the ice and take away the precious collection that originally belonged to you." Bondarev said, "You have been isolated from the outside world for too long to know the progress of engineering, it is no longer difficult to cut through the tundra in an instant today, once I probe its location."

　　"You ...... want to take that dragon!" The Doctor understood.

　　"Yes," Bondarev replaced the magazine, walked over to the sled, and fired four bullets into the chests of each of the four children.

　　The children died without a struggle from the potent hypnotic drug. It was pure carnage.

　　"You are not the only one who is willing to sacrifice human lives for a great cause." Bondarev pressed his chest in silence for the children he had just killed, looking reverent.

[pyreo]

deltarune megapost

I wanted to make a Deltarune post about the lore and the things that aren’t  obvious. And once I do that I wanna focus on why Mettaton is incredibly important to this setting

And also why he poses a problem

Why did Toriel and Asgore get divorced?

Without the setting of Undertale, Asgore and Toriel’s marriage still broke up after they had Asriel. There needs to be a reason though. In UT it was Asgore’s ‘worst of both worlds’ decision regarding killing anybody that fell from the human world, including children. We saw how close they were before this happened. Only something deep and serious caused that rift. In Deltarune, what on earth did Asgore do?

What happened to Dess?

Mentioned a handful of times by Noelle, Dess was her older sister and is mentioned In Undertale.... in that Xbox exclusing casino thing. The way Noelle talks about her, the conspicuous way Noelle gets locked out of her big house - it implies Dess is gone or deceased. Berdly recalls a spelling bee when he and Noelle were younger where she, despite being smarter than him, misspelled ‘December’, allowing him to win.

In the two-player spelling puzzle, it also spells out ‘December’ as Noelle recalls the past and her silhouette regresses to a child while she does so. Being distracted by her sister’s disappearance, rather than pure shyness, could account for her misspelling her name on stage, and it clearly left a big psychological mark for her to have this visual regression in the Dark World.

However, there’s a graveyard in Hometown with no Dess. I heard another theory that she has been missing for years, because where each character’s personal room is made by Queen to reflect their tastes via their search results, Noelle has a calendar where every day is December 25th. This could imply that Noelle continually searches the internet for ‘December Holiday’, her sister’s name, to see if there are clues to her disappearance, but of course the only result you would get is the date of Christmas.

Who is the Knight?

It’s now implied to be Kris, who has been forcibly removing the player’s influence to act on their own. By all accounts the Knight is the game’s main antagonist. Spade King and Queen both mention the Knight as someone who influenced their position - they brought Spade King to absolute power, and showed Queen that creation of new worlds was possible.

We’re led to believe that Kris was doing this, because they’ve been acting outside of the player’s control. Eating the entire pie between chapter 1 and 2 might have been a red herring to cover that they also went to the library and used that knife to slash open a dark fountain there.

However. This has issues. How would they even manage to shuffle slowly all the way to the library and get in the computer lab? The Knight is also the one creating the hidden bosses. They talked to Jevil until he realised he was in a game and he lost his mind; they ruined Spamton’s life by elevating him to success and then crushing him. Whatever the Knight is doing seems to be deliberately planned with key players in mind.

Kris opening the fountain at home at the end of ch.2 can be explained in that you just figured out in Cyber World that anyone determined enough can do this, and so, Kris decided to. So a better question might even be...

What does Kris want?

We have no idea. They are capable of removing the SOUL, ‘us’, temporarily, and putting things in motion we cannot influence. But they also keep putting us back in control afterward. This is hinted at right when ch.2 starts, where if you inspect the cage in Kris’s bedroom they threw us into, the description says it’s inescapable. Meaning Kris came back and took us out, willingly.

They allow us to pilot them through the game. Why? Because they cannot live without the SOUL for long for some reason? Because they’re bad at bullet hell? Why did they slash Toriel’s tyres before opening the fountain, making sure nobody could drive away?? Why did they specifically open the door?

You can find out details about Kris through the creepy way you interact with the townsfolk, who think you are Kris. They play the piano at the hospital waiting room - better than you. They used to go to church just to get the special church juice. It’s all normal, relatable things, not like someone who’s trying to plunge the world into darkness. Judging by their search history portrayed in their Queen’s castle room, they really want to see their brother again. However the castle has a room based on Asriel’s search history too, and Kris (not you) closes their eyes and won’t look at it.

What is Ralsei?

His name is an anagram of Asriel. Is he an extension of Asriel? The slightly flirtier dialogue in ch.2 would point to no. Is he an extension of Kris themselves, given the link between Kris’s childhood habit of wearing a headband with red horns on it, to pretend to be a monster like their family?

Ralsei knows exactly where the Dark World in the school is located, and unlike regular Darkners, knows the world is folded up inside the ‘real world’. There’s a certain whiplash to Ralsei telling you to hop out of his reality into yours and go down the hallway to retrieve all the board game items.

How does he jump from one Dark World to another, without assistance? How does he not get petrified like Lancer and Rouxls? Is this a power level thing because he’s a prince or something else? We definitely do not know enough about Ralsei.

He also says this incredibly suspicious thing after you spare Spamton NEO. Susie was also curious but accepts that maybe it ‘didn’t mean anything’, which is a sure tell that these optional bosses do mean something.

Someone is orchestrating what’s happening, opening fountains, manipulating the rulers, and influencing NPCs to become the optional bosses. Why? I suspect Ralsei for both knowing too much, and pretending something doesn’t matter when it clearly does. Until Asriel actually comes home from college I’m going to suspect he’s involved in this too.

How much does Seam know?

Seam on the other hand knows a lot about what’s going on but is openly withholding information while helping you. He’s nihilistic. He says things like:

One day soon... You too, will begin to realize the futility of your actions. Ha ha ha... At that time, feel free to come back here. I'll make you tea... And we can toast... to the end of the world!

Either this ‘end of the world’ is a reference to The Roaring, where opening too many dark fountains dooms the Dark World and the real one... or, I can’t get out of my head the idea that Deltarune takes place in a fake, or weird reconstruction of Undertale where things don’t match up, and eventually it will have to disappear. After all, powers of determination and creating and manipulating universes are Undertale’s basic bread and butter. How can we look at an Alternate Universe containing the characters we already know and not suspect that? Seam also uses Gaster’s key words, ‘darker, yet darker’, seemingly to clue us in that he’s not off track here.

Why haven’t we seen Papyrus?

This is a bright neon flashing ‘something’s not right’ sign. It’s not like Papyrus’s voice actor was too busy or anything. His absence is noticable and for a reason. Nice of Sans to promise we could meet him despite being aware we’re piloting a child’s body around, though, even if he didn’t follow through.

What locations in town could be used for dark fountains in the next 4 chapters?

If the sequence continues, we have chapter 1 in the school games room, chapter 2 in a computer lab, and chapter 3 in front of Kris’s television, where the aesthetic of each setting influences the world, characters, and enemies in the Dark World created there. Future possibilities include the church, the hospital, sans’s grocery store, Noelle’s house, and the closed bunker.

What the hell’s in the closed bunker

This one’s too obvious, honestly. I think it’ll open for no reason in chapter 7 and a little white dog will bounce out and steal one of your key items and nothing else happens.

Why does Asgore have these

Unlike the bunker feeling like a joke teaser, I gotta believe this is foreshadowing something weird. For example, what does opening a dark fountain in here with the seven flowers do? Does it just take you into Undertale?

Each chapter will have a hidden boss with a ‘soul mode’ from Undertale

Chapter 1 let you stay red, but I think each subsequent chapter is going to change your soul mode to one of the seven colours and design the encounter around that. Purple, yellow, green and blue were used in Undertale, leaving the light blue and orange modes yet to be revealed.

How does Spamton emulate Mettaton Neo’s name, body, and incorporate his battle theme, and the ‘Dummy!’ theme, with no actual connection between them ingame?

This is a really fun one that’s explained over in this post here. Swatch is the Dark World creation from the paint program on the library computers, so he’s able to explain that a Lightner made the robot body decaying in the castle basement that way.

Mettaton went to the library and drew his ideal form, Mettaton NEO, in MS Paint, and the Dark World formed that into a puppet body which Spamton was able to hijack temporarily. So by doing that Spamton was able to channel Mettaton’s appearance, attacks, music, and SOUL mode for the fight.

This might mean that the future hidden bosses, each with their own SOUL mode, might be based on the associated character for that mode (Muffet, Undyne, and Sans or Papyrus), and the boss will take on some aspect of them from their world to leech their fight mechanics.

The Problem With Mettaton

We don’t exactly know what Deltarune is about. It’s an alternate universe where the characters from Undertale already live on the surface, have completely normal lives, but diverge from the storyline of Undertale and, crucially, have not lived through the changes Frisk brought to their lives.

Remember how Undertale had a dozen different ending routes depending on who you befriended? The constant reinforcement in Undertale was that your choices mattered. Through Frisk, you chose to bring Alphys closure about her mistakes, you chose to befriend papyrus instead of attacking him, you chose to help Alphys and Undyne realise their feelings for each other and it’s only doing that that leads to the golden ending and escape to the surface.

Deltarune is the opposite, your choices do not matter. The only thing you can do to force the route of the game to change is to force Noelle into a No Mercy run, which is indirect, and also, a total desperation to mess with an otherwise set course. This version of the characters have not been helped by Frisk - Undyne and Alphys are not together, Papyrus has no friends, Asgore cannot get over himself, and they’re clearly the worse for it, but potentially, you COULD still do these things. In fact it’s hinted that you already are.

But there’s Mettaton.

He’s still a ghost and does not leave his house. In Frisk’s world, Gaster deleted himself, promoting Alphys to royal scientist by bluffing with Mettaton, and she then build him his ideal body. In Kris’s world... Alphys is a school teacher. There’s no barrier to break, no reason to experiment on souls, no Flowey mistake, and no body for Mettaton.

It was sad in Ch.1, but now with the Spamton NEO fight in ch.2, it’s unmissable. Mettaton wants that body and he cannot get it. Alphys in this universe is not going to leave her teaching job and suddenly be able to build a robot. Mettaton is just... screwed out of his happy ending and cannot get it.

So what resolution could this have? If it wasn’t for Mettaton I might believe in the vaildity of Deltarune and Hometown. But. How can you doom this character? If Undertale was the only way Mettaton could be befriended, then Undertale is Primary Universe A and Seam is right - the world of Deltarune is doomed as some kind of aberration. It all relies on how this gets explained in the future, but the core mystery of Deltarune is how exactly this universe intersects with Undertale and whether one is an offshoot of the other. How the Dark World links into that is another complication. But even as we get more fun characters and neat stuff in the Dark Worlds, let’s not forget we have absolutely no idea why Undertale’s characters are living here with no mention of underground or why there are no other humans beside Kris.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH27

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

-----

Chapter 27: Star Death Reality Show (X)

Lara's words drew silence from everyone.

That afternoon, after the search for Mark and He Yi failed, Dr. Lu had complained casually that the snow was too slippery, and he accidentally fell—he had fallen three times in one afternoon, and the number of times he fell might have doubled if Du Yue hadn't been watching him the whole time. This had reminded everyone that they would be living here for the next six days, and they couldn't travel on the snow every time.

So the five of them, together with Xue Jiahui, Janet, and Alex, who were present to help search at that time, eight people in total, had carried the necessary snow-shovelling equipment to each house and swept out a snow-free road near their houses, leading to the church in the middle of the village. And Jing Siyu, Jing Sixue, and Annie, although not missing, had not cleared their paths, nor had the missing Mark and He Yi.

Lara's thinking was very clear. If someone had knocked Xue Jiahui out and taken her away, unless he went to the church first along the snow-free path Xue Jiahui had cleared and then gone to someone's house to hide her along the seven snow-free paths connected to the church, his footprints would otherwise be left in the snow.

"But in the afternoon, we walked around and left many footprints on the ground, which are difficult to distinguish now," Qi Leren countered.

"Let’s look for it along the way," Lara said.

This search went on throughout the night, but there were no extra suspicious footprints on the ground and there were no clues in the people's houses. By dawn, Dr. Lu was too sleepy to keep his eyes open. He followed the crowd with a yawn and walked into the church with them to have a rest.

"The Best of the Day will be broadcast in two hours. Let's just wait for it before we rest," Lara said.

Dr. Lu said, "I can't do it. Let me take a nap and just... call me when it’s time."

Giving a look of being exhausted, he yawned hard enough that tears almost fell. Qi Leren patted him on the shoulder: "You might as well go back so you can sleep. Have Du Yue accompany you."

"Aren't you sleepy?" Dr. Lu muttered.

"Not too much." Qi Leren also felt a little tired, but it was probably because he was tortured by Chen Baiqi. His energy was better than before, so he could stay up all night.

"Forget it, I’ll take a nap on a couch here for a while, just for two hours, I’m too tired to leave," Dr. Lu murmured and yawned again.

Seeing that he was so sleepy, Lara  smiled and said, "You can't sleep on the couch either. It would be bad if you caught a cold."

Qi Leren suddenly remembered the glowing stone: "Lara, do you remember that glowing stone? You and Francis found it in a cave yesterday."

"Oh, what's wrong?" Lara wondered.

"Before going to Xue Jiahui’s, we passed the church to look at the stone. It turned out that... It was a bit strange, you should also have a look," Qi Leren solemnly said.

Lara nodded and walked with Francis towards the back room of the church.

Pushing open the unlocked door, the old room was illuminated by the polar daylight outside the broken window. But the first thing the people who walked into this room saw would never be the stone that had broken into two pieces and lost its luster in the corner, but Xue Jiahui lying on the ground.

"Xue Jiahui!" Qi Leren let out a low cry, and Dr. Lu, who was about to fall asleep, hurried up to check her condition.

"Still alive, breathing and heartbeat are normal." Dr. Lu touched her neck and let out a long sigh of relief.

"Why is she here?" Du Yue wondered.

"We'll know when she wakes up," Qi Leren said, and looked at the stone that was no longer shining.

Before, when he was busy performing for the audience, he hadn't noticed that there was dried blood on the stone's surface that penetrated into the crevice. When he thought of the bloodstained bandage found in Annie's room, he inevitably linked these two things together.

Was it because of Annie's blood that the monster in this stone was awakened? It made sense. As a member of Deep Sea Religion, Annie would recognize this stone as a natural thing. Although she was resting in the house because she was feeling unwell that day, Mark had seen the stone, and it was likely that he had told Annie.

But this guess wouldn't be recognized even if it was spoken aloud. After all, this group of contestants still didn't know that a terrible monster had appeared here... After Xue Jiahui woke up, he would look for an opportunity to let her identify the pictures of the octopus so that the chain of logic could be made. Qi Leren was going to do this.

After more than an hour, the contestants came to the church one after another, waiting for the announcement at 8 o'clock. Jing Siyu was much better. She came with her sister Jing Sixue, and Annie also came. When she saw Xue Jiahui, she raised her eyebrows: "Didn't you say she was missing?"

"She was found more than an hour ago in the room behind the church hall. Also, the glowing stone we found on the first day has been broken... Something is wrong," Lara said in a dignified way.

Janet, who had just arrived, smiled mockingly and said nothing.

Xue Jiahui, who had been placed on the couch, let out a loud groan, and everyone looked at her. She slowly opened her eyes and looked around in confusion.

"Are you alright?" Lara sat down beside her and asked softly.

Xue Jiahui opened her mouth and asked hoarsely, "Who are you?"

When she said this, Qi Leren screamed in his heart. The important clue-NPC fell off the chain at the critical moment via the ridiculous method of amnesia, which simply cut off the possibility of obtaining intelligence across the board. He had a faint feeling that there was a 90% chance that this boss-enemy was the "octopus" mentioned during their discussion before, but he knew nothing about it except that the octopus was a parasitic cosmic alien. He didn’t know its habits, fighting capacity, or whether it would reproduce rapidly.

While Qi Leren was struggling, Lara had already asked about Xue Jiahui's condition. She had really lost her memory and even forgotten who she was. Obviously, it was impossible to remember that she had done a program about "amphioctopus".

Janet held her forehead and sighed in an ostentatious manner: "I am really fed up with cooperating with the performance, even a memory loss scenario has come out. I think Miss Xue won yesterday's Best without any problem."

As soon as she spoke, the speaker started: "Now broadcasting the voting results. The winner for the Best of the Day is: Qi Leren."

The people present uniformly turned their attention to Qi Leren. Janet, who had been beaten on the spot, looked at Qi Leren in a particularly bad way. Dr. Lu was more excited than he was that he got the Best. He said happily: "Congratulations, please come have dinner with me and Du Yue later to celebrate!"

"Thank you... Well, thank you all for your support and love." When Qi Leren remembered that there was an audience, he had to smile and pretend that he was very happy, but his brain was spinning: How could he be rated as the best yesterday? Was it because he’d found that the glowing stone was broken? Or for some other reason?

On the second day of this reality show, many things had happened: Jing Siyu fell into the basement, Mark and He Yi disappeared, they searched the basement, Xue Jiahui disappeared and lost her memory...

He had participated in almost every one of these events. It was probably because of his positive performance and occasional "flash of light" discovery that he had gotten so many votes, Qi Leren thought.

"It's a pity, I thought Miss Xue could get the Best, but it turned out to be Qi. It seems that the audience is more fond of conscientious and obedient actors." Janet looked at Xue Jiahui with a playful mockery.

Xue Jiahui looked confused and overwhelmed, and Qi Leren could not see the sense of recognition in her face. He was now not sure what had happened to Xue Jiahui. If someone had really knocked her out, who could it be?

"It's still strange. The three of us came to the church at eleven o'clock in the evening. At that time, there was no one in the room. After that, we went to Xue Jiahui’s, and the journey took only ten minutes at most. Why was Xue Jiahui hidden in this room? Who brought her here? How did the perpetrator avoid other people?" Dr. Lu murmured, his brow wrinkling more and more tightly as he looked very distressed.

"I’m afraid that only the audience will know this," Lara smiled bitterly. "After all, we can't check these cameras."

"Unfortunately, we can't get help from the audience outside the stadium," Francis said.　

"Actually, it shouldn’t be impossible," Qi Leren suddenly said.

"Do you have a communicator?" Janet looked at Qi Leren with suspicious eyes.

"No. Like you, I have no other tools except a knife. The fixed cameras are installed inside and outside the church. The audience watching the screen clearly knows who brought Xue Jiahui here while she was knocked out. As long as they tell us the name of the person, everything will be understood," Qi Leren said slowly, looking at the speaker.

Lara's eyes brightened. "You mean..."

Qi Leren smiled and nodded.

Although this speaker would only broadcast the names of the Best, even if it was just a name, it would play a great role in cracking the current puzzle.

"Qianbei is too powerful!" Du Yue actually clapped his hands on the spot, and his admiration was beyond words. Dr. Lu on the side covered his face with one hand and his mouth with the other. It was a shame that this fanboy gave exaggerated praise regardless of the occasion!

"This is also an idea, but will the audience cooperate?" Francis asked.

"Let’s try it. Will you ask them?" Qi Leren invited Lara.

Lara nodded and took a deep breath before solemnly saying, "Hello, audience and friends, welcome to our program. Today is the third day of the program, and many unexpected accidents have happened, especially the accident to Xue Jiahui. We can't figure out who knocked her out and brought her to the back room in this church, and we don't know what the motive is. We hereby implore the audience who have watched this program to vote for the man who committed the crime when they vote for today’s Best of the Day. This is very important to us, please help us. Thank you!"

-----

[<<< Previous Chapter | Table of Contents | Next Chapter >>>]

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy chapters 269-270.  The cliff notes meta edition.

This will be a less detailed meta as I’ve just been spread too thin recently and the current events of the manga have been underwhelming to me, making it harder to engage with the content.

Having an online presence has been a double-edged sword for me and as we mark 1 year of pandemic life, it is hard for me to invest as much time in it since I have to do so many more things online for work.  Sitting down to write meta isn’t as fun and relaxing as it once was when you have 7 zoom meetings over the course of several days. Add on the fact that I have not left the county were I live since February 2020 nor I have a seen any of my family or friends . . . yeah writing meta isn’t a much of a priority.  As an aside, I think more people need to be stating that being ‘productive’ and ‘leveling up’ during these times is either unrealistic and even more damaging by creating completely unrealistic expectations of how we should respond to things.

[steps off of soapbox]

Chapter 269, quickly shows us how the chaos that Tsurumi unleashed on the divided Ainu resulted in a tragedy and Wilk is the only one who managed to survive the massacre.

Tsurumi is able to sort out that there were eight Ainu, and that Wilk staged his own death by working quickly to conceal the identity of the dead partially by removing the eyes. 

Kikuta is the first one to find the man who dies soon after discovery and Tsurumi seems to be in awe of Wilk’s escape plan.

KIkuta also shows he’s a more empathetic individual worried about how they contributed to the death of Ariko’s father.  Did Tsurumi push Kikuta away after the war since he knew Kikuta would feel bad about doing the ‘things’ needed to be done for the gold?

It further highlights that Usami and Kikuta were never on the same page.  I do like how the following page shows both Kikuta and Ariko continuing to tie the narrative that Kikuta feels a connection with the younger man.  Shiraishi and Sugimoto spot Ariko, calling him Ariko Ipopte, which is an interesting choice to use a hybrid name for him.  Kikuta uses his full Japanese name, while these men use a mix.

The final panel showing a reflective looking Kikuta walking alone in the rain really emotional connects with the grief surrounding all of this unnecessary death.  Tsurumi sought to be a leader of men by giving them love and being the stand in father for them.  I think that Kikuta is the character who is the natural and honest father figure - we know he has a deep relationship with Ariko and we also know he has some sort of connection to Sugimoto.

Tsurumi continues his ‘discussion’ of events with Asirpa and Sofia.  Tsurumi has such a complicated relationship with Wilk.  He’s both in awe of the man’s determination to survive but at the same time he wanted him destroyed at such a great cost.

Tsurumi really lays on the guilt to Asirpa that Wilk did everything to protect her - under the assumption that she’d be unfairly treated if her father had killed all of those men.  Perhaps that is the case, perhaps not.  It seems contradictory to his own actions where he gave Ogin and the Lighting Bandit’s child to Huci to care for it.  He has this weird approach to the impact of the ‘sins of the parents’ on the child  . . .

Tsurumi doggedly pursues Wilk and they immediately recognize each other and he flees onto the lake with his canoe.  By shooting at Wilk, he forces him to capsize the canoe and items sink down into the lake.  Honestly, I’m not sure what Tsurumi was hoping to achieve by this - make him swim so that he could capture him more easily.  We don’t know how skilled Tsurumi is with a rifle and I’d be more concerned about killing Wilk and loosing the information.  It seems reckless in my opinion since the ultimate outcome was Wilk appealing to Inudou thus achieving protection from the 7th.

I think Tsurumi was fueled and blinded by his emotions which only made things more complicated and drew the hunt for the gold out even longer (to the present time).

The rest of the chapter explains how Kiro felt.  First, the grief at the loss of Wilk, trying to move on my having a family, but ultimately coming back to realize that Wilk was still alive after the war.  Really, Wilk underestimated Kiro’s intelligence since he figured out that Kimuspu was the seventh man, not Wilk.  As a Kiro fan, I of course favor him, but he really showed he’s a good leader and actually willing to take risks.  What is most important is that having a family only lead him to want to fight for them - even more.

Kiro sees the flaw in Wilk’s plan of Hokkaido as an independent unit as a place for various native peoples, while ignoring all of the logistical issues that Kiro already pointed out to him previously.  The Far Eastern Federation has the flaw that it is connected by land to Russia, but would me much harder to lay siege to.  But Hokkaido as an island could easily be cut off - and with not much industry within itself, you still can’t do a whole lot with all of those raw materials if you can get industrial technologies from elsewhere.  If it were blockaded they’d be screwed.  Sure, you wouldn’t starve, but you wouldn’t be able to advance quickly.  All that gold and nowhere to spend it.

Thus, Kiro believed he was acting in regard to their original goals and had no choice but to remove Wilk from the equation.  As Wilk had become the very wolf that he had observed as a child and played with its pelt.  That is some next level foreshadowing by Noda, if I do say so.

In the end, Kiro remained much more committed to their fight as partisans than Wilk did.  You have to give it to him, he stuck to his original plans and he died believing he did the right thing.  Now, looking back at how upset Sofia was when she first saw Kiro, we know why she slapped him in the first place.  I’ll take it to mean that she was upset by Kiro’s actions but at the same time understood what he did.  But then Sofia let it go, as she would soon go on to also speak fondly of Wilk and his desire to be like the wolves.  Therefore, I don’t think Sofia was completely angry with Kiro, instead she knew the decision that was made and perhaps, she too, would have understood that there were divided in their goals once they moved on with their lives.

The next chapter starts off with the bottle mobile boys and Ariko on horseback as they determine what to do next.  Sugimoto is amazingly still not rushing in like a maniac which is out of character for him.  Are you okay Sugimoto?  Or have your encounters with Kikuta and Boutarou begun to have an impact on you without being aware of it?

The settle on letting Ariko go ahead, even though he doesn’t answer their question.  I’d say he doesn’t have a clue what side he is on.  He likely cares about Kikuta.  But he wants to see Asirpa succeed since he feels ashamed by his own approach towards life in Hokkaido as an Ainu.

Off he goes alone to figure out how to rescue Asirpa.  Really, a terrible idea since sure he’s a tough guy, but we don’t know what his fighting skills are like in the first place. . . . At least he isn’t a hothead, so sending him in alone will be less of a disaster than Sugimoto.

The action returns to Tsurumi trying to turn up the heat on Asirpa.  She asks him about Kiro’s fingerprints at the crime scene - a lie that Tsurumi fed to Inkarmat to get her to help him.  He writes it off as him doing a good thing for her - she closed a chapter of her life - then again - he doesn’t know that Koito let Tanigaki and Inkarmat escape.  The next several pages are a slow psychological technique that builds up to Tsurumi reveling that the bullet that killed Fina and Olga had been from Wilk’s pistol.  Dum da duuum!

So, according to Tsurumi it is Wilk’s fault all those Ainu died.  That he should have never left Russia for Japan.  That even his time in Russia resulted in Fina and Olga’s deaths.  Everything is Wilk’s fault!

This page ends with how Tsukishima let go of the woman he had loved and his memory of her - yet Tsurumi kept the bullet and the finger bones of his family!  We can see that Tsukishima is barely holding it together, so upset by this knowledge!

As a master manipulator of people, Tsurumi thanks Sofia for what she has contributed to the story - he can help her feel better by telling her that she did not kill his wife and child. . . .  on no, he only uses it as a way to add even more pressure on Asirpa!

To Tsurumi, Asirpa is no child, she is the direct tie to all of his anger and pain and his twisted soul.  

I mean, he kept Wilk’s skinned face and he’s using it to get her to break! What is more interesting is after the initial shock, Sofia quickly regains her calm while Asirpa - well she’s clearly buying into Tsurumi’s explanation of things.

She is thinking about how her father ‘turned’ Tsurumi into the person he is before her . . . . I’d be willing to say that Wilk influenced Tsurumi - as much as Tsurumi influenced Wilk.  Yet, Tsurumi as a human being is responsible for his decisions and he alone can respond to them in a constructive or destructive way.  It is clear Tsurumi went for the latter.

Sofia’s calm in this pressure situation is clear as she asks him if it was for revenge.  She’s a smart woman and has lived long enough to see these types of things through.

Tsukishima is ready to kill Tsurumi - it would make him a hypocritical leader - having him let go of his own earthly attachments only to serve a man bent on revenge.  Koito is listening closely as well, unsure of how he’s going to respond.

Tsurumi makes it clear he could have killed Asirpa any number of times.  I think this is another case of Tsurumi playing a verbal slight of hand.  He’s asked if he’s doing this out of revenge, and his answer is - I haven’t killed her yet.  Gee, based on how messed up you are Tsurumi, we both know that there is more than one way to take revenge. Killing someone in retribution is one way to take revenge or the worse way - make their life a living hell.  It is clear that Tsurumi is going for the second one to break Asirpa.

There is a dramatic two page spread as he explains that he is doing this for Japan - and the implied increasing militaristic activities of the late Meiji government to expand their domain.

If feels - like a performance to me as a reader.  The pages are remarkably light in tone giving it an optimistic and feeling of purity.  Yet, Tsurumi is a broken and corrupt man . . . cruel in his intentions.  He only says this as a way to combat anyone who were to contradict him . . . .

It is too perfect - too convenient - too good for Koito and Tsukishima to believe in my own opinion. As both of the men seem relived to have heard these very words as a type of closing statement.

Tsukishima looks relived that Tsurumi is continuing on the behalf of all of their fallen comrades and families.  Again, this sounds too perfect like Tsurumi’s speech isn’t for Asirpa nor Sofia, it is for Koito and Tsukishima who are eavesdropping.  Since Tsurumi is a next level planner/manipulator he likely came up with this well rehearsed speech to placate all issues around his inability to move on from his family’s death.  It makes him look mature and that he’d moved on from his more basic human needs.

Koito looks like he’s trying really hard to believe Tsurumi and how Tsurumi’s words would comfort Tsukishima.  But is that how you really feel Koito?  That face looks - so - fake.  Like Koito is overdoing it again and is actually unsure how to react.  So, he he looks elated, Tsukishima will feel better - or something.

What I really want to know is why they are just there hiding and watching Tsurumi?  If they are wanting to think independently and beyond Tsurumi why do it while hiding?  It seems no matter what either man may think, they are still under Tsurumi’s thumb as far as how they react to his behavior and the current events.

And I’m gonna have to hold things here while I find a way to read the  more recent chapters with non-shady software to decompress the files since I’ve been using Mangadex the entire time I’ve been reading GK (in addition to the english versions of previous chapters).

[lokidiabolus]

Last Resort - Chapter 2

Fandom: The Maze Runner

Pairing: Thomas x Newt

Warnings: ex boyfriends, AU

Summary: Three years after breaking up with Thomas, Newt finally thought the past of hating each other was behind them, until Thomas asked him for a favour - pretend they got back together for a week while staying at his parents’ home. Because it was an absolutely dumb idea, Newt was inclined to refuse, but then found himself in the house he used to visit when he was in love and happy and the bitter reality of only pretending for people he always liked made him miserable. But it was nothing against dealing with Thomas himself for a week straight and trying not to fall back in love that hurt them both.

Or: Prompt ch. 192 with added spice. Or something. I just needed to write for a while :’)

Can be found on Ao3.

Notes: I think I never did so much rewriting like I did with this chapter. I'm still not satisfied with it, but I swear my brain just can't come up with anything else. Scrapped like 6 pages asdfjslfjslfjsdl. Now it's short :c

Anyway, guess I just wanted a bit of Thomas' insight for it. He's complicated lol. Or maybe not really, just trying to keep up. Don't we all though lol.

Oh and @izzymultifan (actually remembered)

Unbetad!

EDIT: (17. 5. 2021) I edited the ending with a lil continuation of the scene I previously deleted, because I thought it was unnecessary, but then I returned to it after few days and thought it should stay. It's not very long but I guess it's kinda important.

***

Thomas woke up disoriented, thirsty and definitely not rested enough, like when his alarm goes off on a workday and he only slept for four hours. But here was no alarm, no work, just him waking up with a flinch and realizing he wasn’t in his flat, and he wasn’t alone either.

The blond hair right in his face immediately pushed him into realization he was holding onto Newt like he was his lifeline, one hand under the shirt on his belly, other on his chest clutching the fabric, and an unmistakable morning hello tenting his pants, digging right into Newt’s backside. In retrospect there wasn’t much worse Thomas could have done to him, except maybe having a hand down his pants (which admittedly he used to do sometimes when they were together, but then again, that situation definitely didn’t scream murder like it would now).

In a sleepy confusion that hazed his just-woken-up-brain he searched the foggy memory on how this situation came to be, no matter how familiar it felt to him. Newt made himself pretty clear about sleeping together, so the sudden closeness – well, more like an absolute merge, unless he’d slip in – no, no dirty thoughts, bad Thomas, bad – didn’t make much sense.

The night came back to him embarrassingly slow – he got drunk because for some reason his dad decided to decimate his super precious whiskey, even though normally he hoarded it like a dragon his gold. He could only think of Newt being the incentive, drinking the whiskey so fast in his dad’s eyes, while Thomas downed it all to save him from barfing (Newt’s alcohol tolerance never existed in the first place, he disliked about any kind of it, and as far as Thomas remembered he got drunk only once with vodka mixed with orange juice on Aris’ wedding, because he could barely taste the vodka in it until it was too late). Then the world started spinning, Newt dragged him to his room somehow… which sounded farfetched, so maybe dad helped, he drew blank around that area honestly, probably because he stood up and all the alcohol began circulating faster. Then they talked… probably, and then Thomas fell asleep, since that’s all he could recall.

And now his hard-on was trying to get some, and he held Newt against himself with sheer ferocity of an obsessive hugger off his meds and the realization dawned on him like tons of bricks. Was he going to wake him up if he let go? Newt always woke up at the slightest noise before, there was no way of going to pee at night without getting back to the blond blinking owlishly at him, asking what happened. Was this Newt he barely knew anymore still the same? Still twitchy and light sleeper and grumpy and slow to rise when getting up?

Thomas didn’t have much choice anyway, did he. He just had to let go either way, and preferably remove his hips from Newt’s back and act like it was no biggie to be hard when in bed with his ex. He slowly untangled his hand from the front of Newt’s shirt and retreated from under the shirt as well with the other hand and managed to roll onto his back without Newt visibly stirring, which was a success. Unless he pretended to be asleep to avoid talking to Thomas about pushing into him like a horny teenager, which also worked.

Not like he hadn’t been doing that in the last month of their relationship anyway, just... ignoring the problem until it went away (a problem named Thomas) and well, ultimately it succeeded. It would work now too, and Thomas refused to poke the wasp nest this early in the morning – judging from the clock at 8:04 – and just went with the flow.

Need coffee, he thought unhappily when the headache set in. And water. Maybe some alone time in a bathroom first.

Newt didn’t stir until Thomas slinked out of the bedroom, which was a complete lie.

***

“Dad, just drop it,” Thomas repeated for fourth time when his dad couldn’t stop haggling him about his childlike alcohol tolerance the moment he appeared in the kitchen, asking for black coffee. He couldn’t tell him he drank Newt’s portions and without that argument nothing would sound plausible anyway, so he just dodged it with an increasing headache. Newt got up about half an hour later and didn’t speak a word to him – Thomas would even say he avoided his eyes several times, which meant he was absolutely awake in the morning to witness all of Thomas’ struggle to even exist around him peacefully. Which he couldn’t for years, really, so this only proved it.

It was fine. Thomas learned how to deal with it, despite taking him two years to come in terms of being hated by a person he loved since he was 17. Well, everything around the breakup took a lot from him, but he dealt with all eventually, right? He could finally look Newt in the eye without having all the incoherent anger and frustration pile up and he could talk to him fine as well unless they breached one of the thousand forbidden topics. Like them. Like family. Like love. Like sleeping. Like breathing, existing and fucking just trying to live.

Anyway. All dealt with, of course. No hard feelings.

(Lots of them.)

“You dealt with the drunkard just fine, right Newt?” his dad chattered towards the blond, patting him on his back and Newt forced a smile and a nod. Thomas saw this particular expression too often to not recognize it and huffed while sitting down at the counter with his own coffee.

He was used to being a bad guy anyway, no matter how much of the blame he genuinely deserved. They both knew he didn’t get drunk because he wanted to get wasted enough to drop unconscious on a spot and Newt would be a hypocrite to badmouth him when he was pouring all his whiskey to Thomas’ glass with thankful expression yesterday. But then again, not even he could tell Thomas’ dad about it, so they just had to have this unspoken oh yes, Thomas is a real piece of work as always.

Which sort of sucked. But Thomas couldn’t care less what his dad thought about his alcohol tolerance, it wasn’t like he threw up everywhere or broke mum’s precious bowls set (again). Not that he expected Newt to defend him anyhow, but he could at least say nooo, he was fine, he just fell asleep or something. Not that it surprised him he didn’t, but…

“He used to drink majority of guys from my work under the table and now look at him,” his dad delivered his fifth Thomas can’t drink for shit jab. He sure loved to milk that. “At least he has you to look after him, huh.”

Thomas stared at Newt’s back with mild annoyance the more the blond refused to elaborate on anything, just smiling at his dad while making himself a cup of coffee, and then Thomas’s eyes suddenly fell on the nape of Newt’s neck with a vicious, red mark near the hairline, and his whole body seized up like he got paralyzed.

A hickey? Since when? From who? What? Wait, was Newt already dating somebody else?

Saying already like three years were short amount of time… Thomas mentally scolded himself and his body raised up on its own volition, like being pulled in by some invisible force towards the blond. He had no clue if it were a twisted need for revenge or vindication or just him being unable to come in terms of not being told or warned, or maybe all of it together, he just couldn’t stop and plastered himself all over Newt’s back, trapping him between his body and the counter, circling his thin waist like a vine (he got thinner for sure).

“Of course I have you, don’t I,” he purred into Newt’s ear, loud enough for his dad to hear perfectly, and felt how Newt’s whole body froze, his hand mid-stir of the coffee. Thomas could see how his Adam’s apple bobbed when he gulped. “Looking after me when I get hammered into unconsciousness.”

“Yeah.” Newt’s voice sounded small, and Thomas wanted to bite down at that red, angry place on his nape like an animal. His dad probably wouldn’t appreciate it, but his ego sure would. He let his hands slide lower, to Newt’s hips, grabbing a handful, and the habitual movement made him restless. He did it zillion times during the time they were together. He did less, he did more, naked, clothed, lying, standing up, in whatever situation, touching Newt was his privilege.

And some fucking horny prick just took it?

Just marked his boyfriend – ex-boyfriend, Thomas, ex-boyfriend for three years, pull yourself together, you’re not 17 anymore – like a property and he didn’t even fucking notice?

Newt’s breath hitched and the spoon he was holding dropped into the coffee, splashing the black liquid around it, dribbling down the drawers under, making the blond curse under his breath.

“Sorry,” he immediately said towards Thomas’ dad who was handing him a cloth to wipe it with, and started squirming. “Thomas, leggo. Can’t reach.”

“Don’t wanna,” Thomas refused, squeezing Newt even tighter. “I’m hangover and miserable and you’re supposed to take care of me.”

Thomas’ dad snorted but took the hint and retreated while calling at his wife the boys are being rowdy again, Anna! And the kitchen fell back into silence, except of their breathing, with Thomas plastered against Newt’s back like he wanted to topple him over (he sort of did).

“Do you enjoy being a bloody prick?” Newt finally broke the spell, pawing at Thomas’ hands to get them off, his voice an angry whisper. “What’s your deal, for fuck’s sake!”

“Hangover,” Thomas huffed, not letting go and to be completely honest, Newt wasn’t really trying as much, just slapping his hands half-heartedly. “Could’ve at least said I didn’t give you any trouble, I covered for you the whole night.”

“You gave me loads of it!” Newt started wiggling, and Thomas had to fight the urge to just bite down, mark any piece of skin available, to make the restlessness go away. “You were heavy as fuck, I had to carry you all the way to your room!”

“Yeah, and?” Thomas grabbed him lower, and Newt pinched his hand in revenge, which finally made him let go with sharp breath.

“Fuck you,” the blond barked at him with fiery eyes. “I don’t know what you are trying to prove but groping me is not on the bloody table, get it?!”

“Mhm,” Thomas rubbed the place Newt pinched him at. “Sure. No fun allowed, got it.”

“Fuck off!”

Thomas hated how Newt turned away and the hickey was so visible it made his insides churn. He used to talk about his problems a lot these past few years, so he could finally let go of whatever was holding him in place, unable to forget, and he thought he reached that point, that he was free.

Looking at Newt marked by another man… no. He was not. Still stuck, still the same.

Still angry and miserable.

Still… there.

***

The fact Newt refused to talk to him completely was an understatement. Thomas blamed his unsteady approach on the alcohol, because what else he could blame it on – his own feelings? He sodealt with those already, there was nothing that would make him see red.

Except of a hickey on his ex-boyfriend’s neck, that would do it. Apparently.

But still – it was the hangover that made him stupid, right. If he’d be completely sober and not aching anywhere and his mind clear, he would just… shrug at it. It was Newt’s business who he slept with or not, or who he let bite his nape like a dog (some young fucking idiot who thought hickeys are still sexy? Stupid shit).

Not Thomas’. Not anymore.

The more he tried to push it away from his mind, the more his mind pushed back, just pointing it out loudly every time he glanced towards the blond sitting on the couch in the living room, bundled in a fluffy blanket, fiddling with his phone.

He was fiddling with his phone a lot actually. Texting somebody?

The guy who left the mark?

Thomas felt the irrational anger seep into his consciousness again and he forced it back down with a frown. He knew asking Newt to help him to get his parents off his back wasn’t exactly a great idea (asking ex to be your bf again for a show just screamed trouble), but at the same time asking anybody else just felt… wrong.

Thomas had to admit he’d be able to go along with this only with Minho, probably. Because Minho was a born actor, he’d be able to breeze though this with ease and Thomas’ parents would like him for sure, because, well, everybody liked Minho, honestly.

Asking Teresa or Brenda was just… desperate. Because other than them it would be Newt and getting back together with Newt… well. Thomas could tell from the moment he saw him getting into his car in front of Newt’s workplace it was going to be tough for both of them.

Not much of a surprise so far climbing Mt. Everest would be easier than keeping his chaotic feelings under control.

“You need some fresh air,” his vision of Newt got obstructed by his mum in a frilly apron she wore unironically and he looked up to her with half-lidded eyes.

“I think I need chicken soup, actually,” he offered in response, because dragging himself through the snow outside now sounded like a death penalty.

“Air first,” she insisted, adamant, and turned towards Newt like an executioner. “Right, Newt? A walk would do him good.”

Newt looked at Thomas and Thomas just knew. He was doomed. Newt was going to betray him like Scar did with Mufasa and he’d enjoy it, he could see the glint in his eyes, just shining there, spelling revenge in big, neon letters.

Please, he mouthed at the blond in desperation and Newt tilted his head to the side and then his mouth curled up.

“Sure, that’s a great idea, Anna,” he signed the death certificate without an ounce of shame and relished in it.

Fuck you, Thomas mouthed again, and Newt sent him a condescending smile. Fuck him especially.

***

“You’re unusually quiet,” his mum casually pointed out like she didn’t just drag him out to cold ass weather while holding a knife (butter one, but that’s what made it scarier), despite his very vocal (or vocal sort of, too loud and his brain wanted out of his skull) protests.

“Hungover,” he reminded her bitterly. The snow under their feet crunched sharply and the noise was tearing his brain to pieces, like walking on a broken glass and he had no idea how much longer he’d be able to act like it wasn’t killing him.

“Well, it was nice of you to cover for him,” Anna shrugged like she didn’t just blew their cover with a killer one liner and Thomas probably shouldn’t have been as surprised. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen him drink.”

“That’s cuz he can’t drink for shit,” he mumbled with a frown. “Did dad notice?”

“No,” she shook her head. “He was too busy boasting about the partnership. It’s been some time since I’ve seen him so happy, you know how he hoards the whiskey otherwise.”

“Yeah, cheapskate,” Thomas snorted, and the noise sliced his brain painfully, like an instant karma.

“Think he was happy about Newt being back too,” she hit the nail on the head a bit too close to home and Thomas hated how his stomach lurched at it. “Well, you know him.”

“Sure is happy for not getting any grandkids,” he just grumbled and Anna patted him on his back.

“We still have Hannah,” she reminded him sweetly. “Maybe one day she’ll feel like having kids and force you to babysit for her two times a week.”

“Me? You’re going to be the grandparents, it’s your obligation to babysit!” The idea of taking care of Hannah’s kids made him scared for life, and they didn’t even exist yet.

“Pretty sure Newt wouldn’t mind,” she chirped happily, and Thomas loathed how right she probably was. Newt never really showed any kind of real interest in having kids or anything, but he never minded babysit for his own sister, and generally all the kids liked him.

Not that thinking about that had any merit anyway, since they split up with a point of no return. Maybe Newt already planned kids with the new person who left the distasteful hickey on his nape, or the person who he kept texting, and the more Thomas thought about it, the more his chest burned.

“Cherish him a bit more, would you,” she poked his arm. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you have some beef between you. Had an argument before coming here?”

Why the fuck is she so perceptive?

“A bit,” he answered quietly. “No biggie.”

“Set things right,” she plainly ordered him like he was ten again and had do her bidding. “I don’t want another sad Christmas.”

There isn’t going to be any Christmas for us, he wanted to tell her, but kept his mouth shut. At this rate, there wasn’t going to be anything for them, at all.

I really need some sleep.

***

Not very often did the morning come so peacefully, like a gentle spring washing over tired soul, leaving it invigorated. Thomas basked in the pleasantness of it, a quiet, warm and relaxed moment where he slowly woke up from a dream into reality still welcoming and soft like he never left the fantasy realm.

He took a deep breath, stretching, slowly coming to realize of contours of another body pressed into him, and under his hands and around his legs and under his chin. The soft blond hair came to view when he opened his eyes, with Newt draped around him needily, and his heart melted.

The first night in their flat. Their home. A place that only belonged to them, these walls and floors, and small kitchen and big windows, for them together. It came true, finally, inevitably, for Thomas to have Newt all for himself, to share his mornings, his evenings, his life with him. Nothing else could make him happier.

“You already up?” came a sleepy rumble from Newt’s chest, the hands holding Thomas’ waist slowly moved up, to his back, pushing them even closer together.

“Just woke up,” Thomas kissed the top of the blond strands, his own hands traveling over Newt’s back, right onto his butt, kneading it.

“Mmmm.” Approving sound doubled his endeavour and then Newt was slowly grinding to him, lazily, his lips stretched in a smile, reaching to pamper Thomas’ neck with small kisses. “This sure is nice, huh.”

“Love it,” Thomas agreed with the sentiment while grabbing Newt’s thigh and hiking it up over his hip. The blond softly moaned at the contact and Thomas pushed more into it, completely awake and needy and allowed. There was nobody that could hear them, scold them or gasp in shock like a puritan at them making out – just them, two lovers in their home, free to make love any time they wanted.

And Thomas wanted too much.

***

He never stopped wanting.

He woke to his room bathing in shadows, with the blanket twisted between his legs, his headache still present, even though in weaker state than in the morning, and his body wasn’t any less sluggish. The walk with his mum didn’t help him much, just added to his misery with freezing cold and nagging reality he couldn’t play this game any longer, which made him feel empty and unhappy.

He didn’t feel this unhappy in a while, it usually only came back when he heard of Newt about a year after the breakup. Every time his ex came back to his life, even when somebody only mentioned him in a passing conversation, Thomas’ chest set off that painful pang in it, like a trigger just waiting to be pressed, and he fell back into hollow kind of depression.

He got rid of it, somehow. He built walls around himself, he locked all of his twisted personality traits and pushiness and hateful behaviour away, he spent years searching for more he could fix, for all that made Newt unhappy with him, what made him leave Thomas after seven years without really talking about it.

He thought he managed to become a better person. He believed he could change the way he acted. He hoped if he ever talked to Newt again, at any point of their lives, he would be at least able to show him he wasn’t that ungrateful, lousy boyfriend anymore, that they could at least be friends. Somehow. Just talk normally. Just… exist in the same room without… Newt making that anguished face, like it hurt him still.

Thomas tried. But failed. Maybe it was just recurring theme of his life – to touch something wonderful, to taste true happiness, just to fuck it all up and lose it.

Maybe he was just obsessive. Suffocating.

Maybe making mistakes were rooted too deep in him to get rid of.

Maybe… it was simply impossible.

***

Newt was playing games with Hannah in the living room when Thomas came back down. Hannah made fun of him for sleeping all day like an old guy and his mum said something about hoping he didn’t catch a cold and gave him a bowl of chicken soup.

The strange, unattached feeling stayed with him since he woke up, and only doubled when he saw Newt’s neck marked by some fucker on display. His stomach churned at the implication there was this unknown guy waiting for Newt to come back home, who kept impatiently sending him texts that made Newt frown and smile in turns, like he just slowly sunk back into the problem they never resolved. Thomas felt disgusted with himself, and angry, and, when it came to it, immensely tired.

“Oh, you have the whole week free?” his mum asked suddenly, breaking Thomas’ bubble of trying to eat the soup like a mental case of lobotomy, and he realized there had been a conversation going in meantime and he didn’t catch any of it. Newt wasn’t playing the game anymore, though Hannah still furiously pressed buttons on her controller, and instead of it sat on the couch, turned towards Thomas’ mum at the table.

“Yeah, thought getting out of the city might do me good,” he answered her with a soft smile and the idea of another week like this sent Thomas into desperate mode. Even though it was him who forced Newt to take whole week off, because… he only had bad ideas, obviously.

“But there’s bit of a rush now, right?” he entered the conversation impulsively and Newt glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “At work. Christmas and all that being close.”

“Yeah, it’s… a bit hectic,” the blond admitted, making Thomas’ mum go aww. “There’s lots of people taking vacations they didn’t spend yet, so we usually work crunch time.”

“Yeah, kind of same,” Thomas added. It wasn’t really a lie. But not the truth either. “And I know I said a week, but I’ve got some texts from work already, thought of going back tomorrow instead.”

Newt stared at him with an evident confusion, but Thomas knew at this rate they were going to crash and burn again if they stayed, and he didn’t want that. He couldn’t even trust himself to keep it civil when his blood boiled like in a bull taunted with red flag.

Except the red flag was an unknown nobody on the other side of the line of Newt’s phone.

And bed.

“Uh,” came from the blond. “No, wait. What? You…”

“We can visit again during Christmas,” Thomas offered a big fat lie, he almost bit his tongue at it. Christmas were a taboo, he knew mentioning it were already risky, but it gave him an out with his mum, so that worked at least. “When it’s calmer.”

“When is what calmer?” Newt still stared, Thomas said almost disbelieving, and he just prayed for him to play along and not act like he knew nothing about it.

“Work,” he answered stiffly. Too stiffly, he realized, since Newt’s eyes narrowed.

“Uh oh,” he heard Hannah interject, which meant he already failed in the mission to make this believable. Fuck.

“I need a smoke,” the blond announced instead of reacting and stood up sharply. Then shot Thomas a badly masked glare. “Keep me company?”

He wanted to say no but couldn’t when his whole family watched them like during tennis match. So he just nodded and followed Newt outside of the house while feeling like slapping himself.

***

“Care to explain or am I supposed to guess.”

The cigarette was lit, its fiery tip shone bright in the darkness of the porch once the automatic light shut itself because they weren’t moving like they rooted in the wooden floor. Newt was wearing his coat and Thomas only stood there in the long-sleeved shirt, which in retrospect was probably a mistake.

“I did explain,” Thomas said. “Just thought about work-,”

“No, you didn’t,” Newt stopped him immediately while crossing one of his arms on his chest while other held the cigarette like a weapon. “You said a week, so I took a week off. I’m not bloody leaving now. It’s my vacation.”

“I also said three days would probably be enough,” Thomas asserted. “And they are. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“Why?” the blond demanded. “It’s not like I suffer here. I like this place. What’s your problem?”

That kind of question had no easy answer and Thomas held Newt’s eyes only for few seconds, before looking away.

“Am I the problem?” came another question, even sharper. “You just can’t stand me anymore, so you want to leave?”

“You know that’s bullshit,” Thomas scoffed. “Since when did I ever-,”

“No, I don’t know!” Newt interrupted him with raised voice and Thomas flinched. “I don’t bloody know anything about you anymore! You brought me here and expected what? War? Did you want us to fail?”

“Why would I want us to fail?” Thomas’ eyes widened in a shock. “What kind of fucked up logic would that be?!”

“I don’t know!” Newt barked. The cigarette he was holding was slowly fading away, the ash falling everywhere how he moved his hand. “But something’s up since this morning, so obviously you’re lying about work and I want to know why!”

Well, finding out his ex-boyfriend had a lover, or a sex friend or whatever the other person was definitely served as a wake-up call. Thomas couldn’t overlook it – he thought he’d be fine with anything, it had been years, but one fucking hickey and some fleeting texts and he just had the rising urge to tear the walls he built down and get angry and make Newt inevitably miserable, which he despised.

He fucking loathed it. And himself. And everything around him.

“Why did you even agree to come here?” he couldn’t help but demand. “Why did you even bother playing this stupid game when you have somebody home? You trying to make him jealous or it’s just your thing?”

Accusing – stupid Thomas, fucking idiot, just talk normally, what’s wrong with you – as always.

“What?” Newt’s eyes shot up, wide in honest surprise. His cheeks were red from the cold, or maybe embarrassment, Thomas didn’t know. “What are you talking about?”

“About that hickey on your neck?” Thomas pointed towards the incriminated spot and Newt’s whole body went rigid.

“A hickey…?” Newt’s free hand was touching the place now, his voice shocked. “You… ugh.”

“Look, it’s not my business, clearly,” Thomas rubbed his eyes tiredly, desperately trying to make an excuse for his own consciousness why he couldn’t look at Newt. “But obviously it’s causing you trouble with him, so. As I said. Three days are fine, we can leave now. Go back home. Forget about this.”

And forget about me trying to corner you, and me getting hard in the bed with you this morning, and me sounding jealous and lame, and me… just for being me.

“Are you fucking with me?” Newt’s voice sounded disbelieving. “Are you bloody serious right now? A hickey from some random guy appeared over night here? That’s what you’re saying?”

Overnight…?

“Overnight?” he asked a little dumbly, which forced him to look Newt in the eyes, where he saw hell unleashed. It made his throat squeeze almost hard enough to suffocate him.

“You think I just popped back home for a quickie, then back to your bed in the morning like a bloody Cinderella?” the blond seethed, the cigarette in his hand morphing into a protentional weapon of choice. “Where did that even came for, for fuck’s sake? You’d been seeing me for two days, never noticed anything, and then suddenly your Esmeralda syndrome got cured or what?”

“But-,”

“You bloody drunk fucker,” Newt took a step towards him and Thomas found himself hitting the entrance door with his back, when he automatically tried to back out. “Should have known your bird brain won’t remember anything.”

The realization hit Thomas like tons of bricks right in his face, able to cause heavy concussion if it were real.

“I did this?!”

“No, the bloody sucker behind you, who the fuck do you think?!” Newt’s voice was harsh, but Thomas could only hear the bare fact he made a hickey of size of Texas on his ex-boyfriend’s nape while spending the next day being jealous… of himself.

“What the fuck,” he breathed out with an ugly relief flooding his veins, which was all sorts of wrong. Being relieved over attacking his ex at night definitely did not count as a good point in anybody’s book. “What the fuck.”

“Calmer now?” Newt sighed in exasperation and Thomas couldn’t say he was. It just opened door to another set of bad he had to deal with.

“I attacked you when drunk?” he asked quietly, and Newt blinked in surprise.

“Attacked?” he repeated and then barked out a laugh. “No, you really didn’t. You were drunk out of your mind, for fuck’s sake.”

“I see.”

“Didn’t think it left anything,” the blond sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as if in memory, which was kind of hot – no Thomas, it was not hot, but embarrassing, shut up -. “I mean you just munched on me a little, then fell back asleep. No harm done.”

“You made a fuss about us sleeping in one bed but it’s no biggie when I leave a hickey?” Thomas couldn’t help but laugh a little and Newt’s face showed signs of hesitation.

“Look…” he tried after a moment, the cigarette in his hand nearly gone. “I… don’t know, you were just sleeping while holding me, it doesn’t mean anything-,”

“And that’s fine with you?” It was Thomas’ turn to interrupt him, and Newt looked a little lost for a moment.

“I suppose that’s fine with me, yeah,” he admitted slowly.

Thomas looked at his shoes, taking in a deep breath. He couldn’t deny the knot forming in his belly over the day already started easing off, for purely selfish reasons he had, but at the same time his head became even a bigger mess than before.

“So what does it mean?” he asked after a while. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, I thought… you’d rather leave than stay with me longer, after today, but…”

“I want to stay,” Newt answered immediately. “Unless you really don’t want me here. Then no, of course. I had the same problem the first day, feeling all kinds of weird and jumpy. I guess I just sort of dealt with it. Stepped out of my comfort zone and all that.”

“Sorry you had to.”

It wasn’t like Thomas wanted Newt to change anyhow by doing this favour for him. But he’d also be a hypocrite if he didn’t admit he wished Newt to feel good here. With him. Selfishly, hopelessly. Like before, like they were okay. Like they still… liked each other. At least a little.

He knew that kind of hope was self-destructive and harmful, but he didn’t stop loving this man three years ago, after going through an immensely rough patch, so he wouldn’t stop loving him now for no reason either.

“No need to be sorry,” Newt interrupted his thoughts with much softer tone than Thomas expected. “I mean even despite it’s you, you didn’t really do anything bad yet.”

“Wow,” Thomas snorted. “Way to ruin the mood, boyfriend.”

“I try,” Newt grinned, and it seemed like the tense mood dissipated and they both relaxed enough to breathe easier. Thomas possibly wouldn’t even notice he had been so strung up until now, if the huge boulder of irrational fear of fucking up didn’t fall off his shoulders with a bang.

“And just for the record,” Newt added while finally inhaling the last puff from the already burned-out cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray. “I noticed you digging into me in the morning.”

“Of course you did…” Thomas banged the back of his head against door in utter shame. “Because universe hates me, and you had to fucking wake up.”

“Yeah, well,” Newt let out a small shrug. “I got hard at night, if it makes you feel any better. Let’s call it even.”

“What.”

“Had a real nice dream,” the blond casually announced like he was ordering pie with no filling and Thomas was a stupefied cashier at Costa Cafe. “Woke up with you being handsy with me. Tried to scramble away, cue for you to make the hickey and fall back asleep.”

“Uh.”

“1:1, right?” The sly smile Newt’s mouth produced did things to Thomas’ underbelly and before he even caught himself, he automatically reached out and grabbed Newt’s side.

Fuck.

“Pretty lousy score,” he just said – bad Thomas, stop making a pass at your ex -, “That’s no match whatsoever.”

Newt glanced at his hand resting on his waist and then back to Thomas with a thoughtful hum.

“I’m not that good at sports,” he just said, looking back into Thomas’ eyes. “But you might be onto something.”

Thomas took a deep breath and risked the second hand grabbing other side of Newt’s waist, pulling him closer. The layers of clothing made him dissatisfied, no matter how cold it was and how his skin already felt like ice, he just wanted to get under the coat and the sweater and the shirt and make Newt react somehow. The blond just silently watched him, let him do whatever he wanted, and somehow it felt like a test and Thomas was scared of failing it.

“That’s it?” Newt broke the tense silence around them when Thomas just stood there, holding him.

“Thinking,” the brunet mumbled with a frown.

“About?”

“How to touch you without it being classified as groping,” he moved his hands a little lower as an experiment, getting no reaction. “Since it’s off the table.”

“Pfff.”

He hesitated, then gingerly let go of one side and reached for the zipper lodged under Newt’s chin, keeping the coat closed like a fortress. His hand barely cooperated with how frozen it was, but Newt still didn’t stop him and that encouraged him unfairly.

“Newt.”

“Yeah?” the blond’s voice was quiet and close to his face.

“What’s with all the texting?” He kept holding the zippier between his fingers like he couldn’t decide, and Newt made a soft huh? noise in the back of his throat.

“You were on your phone the whole day,” Thomas lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “Is there somebody…?”

A sigh. Thomas let go of the zipper.

“That’s Alby,” came a reply and if Thomas wasn’t already propped against the door, he’d take a step back. There was nowhere to run now, so he just let go of the blond completely, nodding.

“He’s my partner,” another string of words Thomas comprehended but wished he didn’t. “A bit demanding one.”

“Sounds like it,” he just commented, staring at his feet until Newt’s shoes came into view as well when he stepped closer.

Seriously testing me. That’s-

“A bit cruel,” he breathed out with a puff of white smoke and Newt pushed further and pressed his mouth against Thomas’. His cold lips lingered for a moment before parting, their breaths mingling, and Thomas’ heart fought really hard to get out of his chest and run away. The proximity was non-existent, Newt stood so close their chests were touching, and his eyes were so dark, and pupils blown wide Thomas got easily lost in them.

He always did. Nothing had changed.

“You look cold,” Newt whispered to his lips, hovering so close their mouths gently touched when they took a breath.

“Freezing,” Thomas answered in daze, holding back only by a miracle. He wanted to reach out and pull the blond man flush against him, to grind into him, to kiss him so deep his toes would curl, and he’d buck up, he just wanted so much it made him suffer.

“Alby’s my colleague,” Newt dropped quietly. “Funnily… you weren’t wrong about work being in a rush now. He’s struggling a little. Wanted to know my opinion.”

A colleague. And nothing else?

“Nothing else,” Newt answered like he could read his mind and then sagged against Thomas’ body like the energy just left him, resting his head on Thomas’ shoulder.

“I thought I can handle being this close to you,” he heard him mumbling into his shirt. “But the more I am, the less I can fight it.”

“I thought I can handle you dating somebody else,” Thomas added to it while letting his head fall back against the door with a dull thud. “But obviously not. It’s scary. I don’t want to fuck it up again.”

“Yeah,” Newt agreed with him. “Me neither.”

He wasn’t sure if this had been some sort of consensus they reached, or just a fling that happened because they were both lonely, but Thomas didn’t want to let go – even though he should have, logically, to protect them both. The pain they caused to each other three years ago was still there and festering under their skins, but the more Newt was pressed into him, breathing softly, the more Thomas noticed his reason slowly creeped away, like a thief in the night disappearing with loot.

But he wanted. For fuck’s sake how he wanted to just hold him close and promise him love and eternal happiness, and the scary part was he couldn’t promise shit. His love was real, but not unconditional, happiness was fleeting and simply relying on both of them and the rest of the world deciding whatever to fuck them up or not.

But…

“I give up,” he mumbled, weary to the bone. At Newt’s soft hm? he just sighed. “It’s fucking cold.”

The blond barked out a laugh, but nodded and let go of him, immediately taking all the warmth away.

“Then shall we assure them we’re not breaking up again?” he nodded towards the door and without waiting for Thomas’ reply he already reached for the handle. “Or not leaving tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” the brunet conceded. “Hannah’s going to be milking this for the rest of the week…”

“Serves you right,” Newt laughed quietly while opening the door and Thomas kept the answer to himself.

We’re not breaking up again rang in his head like a bell, deafening his reason even further. Newt didn’t protest when he reached for his hand on their way inside, and he wondered if his heart was ready for another trial.

He ignored the uncertainty and took a leap of faith.

[mythicalsecretsanta]

12 Days of Christmas... Almost (E)

This gift is for: Cal (AKA @mythicalamity) Surprise! Keeping this secret from you for the last month wasn’t easy! Thank you for being the kindest, most loving friend I’ve ever had in this fandom and for being a pretty spectacular person in the real world as well. Merry Christmas, Cal! From your Secret Santa, @fanbabble​

Link to AO3, or read below:

The Holiday season was in full swing at Mythical, as much as it could be at least. The virus had put quite a damper on festive activities across the world and Myth Ent was no exception. There were lights strung up and a Christmas tree, but there would be no company Christmas party this year, no cookie exchange, no getting together at each other’s homes for dinner parties or gift swaps. The mood in the office was a little low and Link found himself looking for ways to encourage positivity and the good feelings of the season. That’s why when Stevie suggested a secret santa gift exchange, Link took the idea and ran with it. Employees would play secret santa leaving their secret giftee presents for the 12 days leading up to Christmas. Not only would this game bring a bit of fun into the office, but it could also be done safely as social distancing was a literal part of the rules. You couldn’t reveal your identity to your giftee until the final day of the exchange. It was perfect!

Rhett was less than excited about the prospect. He complained to Link about not wanting to participate. He was nervous he wouldn’t know what to get the person he chose or how to keep the secret. Rhett’s enneagram three-ness was getting in the way of him enjoying himself again. He was worrying too much about impressing the person he got, rather than letting himself relax and have fun with the idea. Link finally convinced his friend to participate. 

“How would it look if one of the owners of the company didn’t play along?”

“Fine. But if my gifts turn out to be duds and ruin someone’s Christmas it’s your fault!” Rhett said as he stood to join Link and walk down the hall to the Mythical kitchen for the name exchange.

Chase mixed the names of everyone in a Santa hat. The in-office folks would be in one drawing and the staff who were working virtually would draw amongst themselves. In all there were about 15 names in the hat that Chase held shut in his grasp. The group took turns reaching their hands in to pick a slip of paper with their giftees name written on it. The PAs went first, followed by the camera men, then the directors, followed by Chase, Stevie, and finally Rhett and Link. 

Rhett stuck his hand into the Santa hat. His gaze was trained on the little opening. 

“No peekin’!!” Link smacked his arm and scolded him. 

“I’m not! Besides There’s literally only one name left in the hat, Link.” 

The kitchen filled with the crew’s laughter. 

“Can’t exactly pick and choose who I want, man.”

Rhett glanced at his friend and then looked at the little slip of paper. The apples of his cheeks became more obvious as a small smile spread across his face. He grasped the paper close to his chest and then tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. 

Everyone in the kitchen celebrated the exchange with a cupcake whipped up by the Mythical Kitchen and then retreated back to their personal space to finish up the day’s work. 

Before the office door was even fully shut Link was in Rhett’s space. 

“Who’d ya get?”

“What?! I’m not telling you. It’s not fair.” Rhett sat down in his office chair and opened his laptop.

“Come on, Bo. Tell me. I got…”

“STOP” Rhett put his hands up to his ears as if to block out what Link was about to reveal. “I don’t wanna hear it. Let’s do this right. Keep it a secret.” 

“Since when do you care about keeping this kinda stuff secret? You usually can’t wait to tell me everything and anything,” Link was teetering on the fine edge between annoyed and amused.  

“Well this year is different. If this is one of the only ways the company gets to celebrate then I wanna do it right.”

“Fine,” Link huffed. He flopped down on the leather couch and draped his arm over his eyes. “You don’t want to tell me, that’s your business, but don’t come begging for gift ideas when you come up dry.” And with that healthy dose of snark the smaller man settled in for an afternoon nap. 

The next day Link walked into their office and threw his jacket over the back of the gray chair that sat by the door. He put his backpack on the floor by his desk and was just about to head to the office kitchen for a cup of coffee when he noticed a box sitting by his desk lamp. He picked it up and examined it. 

“Dang, my santa must get here early.”

It was only 7 AM and Link had just arrived to an empty building. The box was wrapped in shiny green paper and tied with an elegant red bow. He turned it over in his hands looking for some kind of tag or label. When he found nothing, Link slipped the ribbon from the package and pulled off the lid. Inside was a perfect golden pear tucked into a pillow of soft fabric. Link wasn’t sure what to do with the gift so he sniffed it to confirm it was a real piece of fruit. He lifted the pear out of the box and saw that a small note was hidden underneath. He held the pear in one hand and opened the slip of paper with the other. 

“On the first day of Christmas,

My true love gave to me,

A partridge in a pear tree”

-You may be a “sweet peach” but I think we’d make a great “pear”  Love, Your secret admirer

Link read over the note three times before he could totally comprehend what it said. He turned it over to look for any kind of identifying mark or signature. There was nothing to be found. He blushed hard and tucked the note into his pocket. It had been a long time since he had had anyone in his life, much less a Love, but he knew no one at Mythical felt that way about him and even if they did it would be totally unethical to pursue anything. Link was sure it was just some kind of joke by one of the writers and tucked the green box into his backpack before heading off to get his coffee.

When Rhett came in half an hour later, he was all nervous energy and talking 90 miles a minute. He said it was because he had almost gotten into a car accident on the way in. He had found his Secret Santa gift sitting on the back of the toilet in the bathroom and showed it to Link. 

“It’s gotta be Jordan, man,” Rhett said as he held out the bag for Link to inspect, “Who else would give me a bag of cotton candy?” 

Link peeked inside the gift bag and said, “Seems kinda obvious, but it’s possible.” He couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander back to the little green box he had received and the love note that it contained. 

“Earth to Link,” Rhett took the bag back and set it on his desk. “You alright man?”

Link shook his head to clear his mind and refocus on the man before him. “Oh yeah, sorry. Must need more coffee.” He held up his empty mug and headed toward the office door. 

As he reached for the doorknob, Rhett asked quietly, “Did you get your first gift yet?”

Link paused and laughed without looking back, “Yeah, pair of socks. Womp womp,” then he headed out the door.

Over the course of the next few days, Link continued to receive themed gifts from his Secret Santa that left him giddy and baffled at the same time. The first two were silly, Turtle and Dove chocolates for Day 2 and three fried chicken legs for Day 3. They were both accompanied by notes that talked about how much the gifter liked Link and they were both signed “Love, Your secret admirer.” Link still wasn’t sure what to make of the declarations, but he played along and let himself feel special for the moment. Even if he was still convinced it was all a joke. Until Day 4 that is. 

On Day 4 Link walked into the office late to find a small book tied up with a ribbon. “Native birds of the National Parks” The gift was incredibly thoughtful and one that he would definitely use on future adventures. A folded piece of paper was tucked inside the chapter about Denali National Park. It read,

“On the fourth day of Christmas,

My true love gave to me,

Four calling birds”

- Bird calls are beautiful, but the idea of calling you mine is even better.  Love, Your secret admirer

Link opened the book again to the page about the birds of Denali. There was only one person he had ever told about wanting to visit the park covered in glaciers and snow. Rhett. Could his secret admirer be Rhett? Link’s head swam with the possibility. 

He had been in love with his best friend for most of his life, but he had kept it hidden away out of fear of losing the one person in the world who was most important to him. Surely, Rhett was not the person who was his Secret Santa. Link felt a burst of warmth spread across his chest as he let himself entertain the idea for a moment. What would it be like to finally feel those arms around his body? To finally kiss Rhett’s lips? To own his heart as well as his friendship?

As he stood there lost in his own thoughts, the man in question came barreling into the office. Link stuffed the book into his desk drawer and turned quickly to face his friend. 

“Hey, Rhett, how’s it going?” 

Link did his best to maintain his cool. He watched his friend as he moved about the office getting settled for the day. He assessed his behavior for any clues or signs that he might be the “Secret Santa Secret Admirer.” 

“Pretty good. I added some new reps to my workout and now my abs are killing me.” Rhett rubbed his hand across his stomach. His t-shirt pulled taught and drew Link’s eye to the spot. Link felt his breath catch from the promise of what was underneath. His eyes roamed over the broad chest and thick arms. The way the shirt sleeves hugged Rhett’s biceps was criminal. Link knew he would have to control his thirst better if he hoped to get any hints about what role Rhett actually played in all of this. He cleared his throat and got a hold of himself. 

“What time did you get here this morning?” Link asked as casually as he could. He fiddled with the monitor on his computer to appear slightly uninterested in Rhett’s response. 

“What? Just now. You saw me walk in.”

“I thought maybe you came in and left again.”

Rhett turned and opened his laptop. He busied himself with things on his desk while it booted up. 

“Nope. Just rolled in.”

“Oh cool,” Link paused before adding, “How’s your secret santa going?” 

Rhett reached for a pen and knocked his coffee mug off balance spilling yesterday’s brown stuff over his desk and onto his lap.

“Shit!”

Link jumped up and grabbed the roll of paper towels he kept by his desk. He pulled off a handful and held them out to Rhett. 

“Can you clean this up for me, Buddyroll? I have to go over to wardrobe and find some different pants to wear or I’ll smell like an old coffee pot all day.” Rhett grabbed the towels and dabbed at the wet spot that stretched across his thighs. 

“Yeah, go ahead. I got this.” Link began to mop up the spilled coffee as Rhett headed out the door. His interrogation would have to wait for another day.

Days 5 and 6 were once again oddly funny gifts. If Rhett was the secret admirer it would make sense because he was the funniest person Link knew. A lifetime of laughter with Rhett had been the tradeoff for hiding the fact that he loved the man immensely. The idea that his love might be returned was more than Link had ever let himself hope for. 

The notes included with the gifts were just as tender as the previous ones. Day 5’s onion rings were accompanied by a slip that described Link as “more valuable than a golden ring” and day 6’s half dozen eggs had a note that read “You are a good egg, who makes my heart happy.”

Link enjoyed the sentiment, but nothing struck him as particularly suspicious. Day 7 was, however, a game changer.

That morning as Link walked past the dark studio a glimmer caught his eye. He set his backpack and Jade down and walked onto the GMM set where he found a string of origami paper birds strung together on a piece of gold silk ribbon. The swans were hanging across the back of the set from wall to wall. There must have been at least 50. Each bird’s wings was dipped in silver glitter and twinkled in the low light giving the set a magical air. Link stood back and took in the beauty. 

When he looked closer he saw each swan was made of sheet music. Link held one small bird in his fingers gently and examined it. He would recognize those chords anywhere. It was Merle. These paper swans were made with sheet music of Merle Haggard’s song, “Always Wanting You.”

“This has to be a gift,” Link whispered to himself. 

Link held his breath, afraid if he moved he would scare away the one idea he wanted to be true most in the world. That his secret santa was not only Rhett, but that the man was in love with him as well. 

A larger piece of paper flapped at the end of the string of birds. Link grabbed it and saw that his name was indeed on the front of the folded slip. He opened it and read:

“On the seventh day of Christmas

My true love gave to me

Seven swams a swimming”

- Like Merle said, “Always wanting you, but never having you makes it hard to face tomorrow.”   Love, Your Secret Admirer

Link couldn’t believe what he was reading. This had to be confirmation that Rhett was his secret admirer and secret santa. Jade sniffed at his shoes as if she were looking for the answer to a question he didn’t know. Link gently took the chain of birds down, gathered his things, and headed back to his office. 

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see the big man sitting at his desk already. He was speaking loudly on the phone about a new project they were working on. 

“No, damn it. I don’t want to cut that part! I purposely included it to help the flow of the story.” 

Rhett’s voice bounced off the brick walls. His tone was harsh. Link thought better of questioning him right now and tucked the birds into his backpack. He sat back on the couch and opened his laptop for the day. Jade snuggled into Link’s side and he petted her head mindlessly. His thoughts were only of Rhett. As he waited for his computer to boot up, Link watched Rhett. 

“It has to be him. Who else would use Merle?” Link thought to himself, “Oh you’re being an idiot. Everyone knows you love Merle Haggard, dummy. It could be anybody.” 

Link sunk down into the leather cushions and sulked. Not knowing for certain was exhausting. Only 5 more days to figure out this mystery. He glanced down at the paper swans one more time and smiled softly. 

Day 8 brought a bottle of chocolate milk and a note that read, “You’re the milk to my cookie” 

Link drank it in front of Rhett at lunch to see if he would get a reaction. Nothing. Well, with the exception of the way those green eyes sparkled when he belly laughed at a joke or the way Rhett put his hand on Link’s back as they left the office to head to record an episode of Ear Biscuits. Link noticed those things, but he couldn’t be sure if they were a reaction to the milk or to being close to Link in general. 

Link had caught Rhett in a lingering gaze more than once since the Seven Swans gift. And when they were alone together it felt like a spark was fizzing between the two of them. Something was going on, Link was sure of it. He just needed a little more proof before he could confront Rhett. His friendship was entirely too valuable to risk on an assumption.

On day 9, Link climbed into the driver’s seat of his car. He reached down to grab his sunglasses and was surprised to find something extra resting on the console. It was an old school cassette tape. Just like the kind he and Rhett used to exchange in high school. They would spend hours making the tapes and then driving down the back roads listening to their creations and singing at the top of their lungs. If he was honest, those times were when he first fell in love with Rhett. 

Link flipped the cassette over in his palm. On the outside of the case where the album art would usually be, was his name. Link immediately recognized it as Rhett’s handwriting. He opened the case and found a piece of paper folded in fourths tucked inside. It read:

“On the ninth day of Christmas

My true love gave to me

Nine ladies dancing.”

- I kept trying to find a funny pun for this day, but all I could focus on was singing these songs with you as we drove down the highway in North Carolina. I’ve tried to hold out to the end of the 12 days, but this secret is an old one and I don’t want to keep quiet anymore. If you feel the same, find me in the office at work and tell me. If not just toss this cassette in the trash and pretend it never happened.  Love, Your Secret Admirer 

Link was quiet for a moment and then, “Rhett! It’s Rhett! He loves me!” Link yelled at nobody in particular. Just saying the words out loud made him feel less like it was all a dream and more like it was real life. He threw his things into the passenger’s seat. In his flustered state he tried to check the time on his sunglasses and put his phone on his nose. He shifted into reverse and sped down the block. 

Link’s heart was pounding in his chest. He was breaking every speed limit on the way into Burbank, but he did not care. Let a cop try and stop him now, nothing could keep him from getting to Rhett. Link pulled into the parking lot in record time and he bolted out of his car and through the studio doors. He was running at full speed back to the office he shared with Rhett. His Rhett. Link took a deep breath and pushed the door open. 

The office was empty. Where was he? Link knew he didn’t pass him on the way through the building. He stood still for a moment and wrung his hands trying to think of what to do next. Just when he was starting to worry that Rhett had panicked and ran, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs of their loft. 

Link watched as Rhett appeared slowly, first feet, then legs, torso, and finally that glorious head of hair. 

“Link…” 

Rhett barely got the word out before the smaller man was launching himself across the office and into his arms. He melted into the embrace and pulled Link tighter against him. They took just a moment to look into each other’s eyes before their lips met. The kiss was strong and full of promise. Link opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and the passion kicked in. Rhett lifted Link up with his hands under the smaller man’s thighs and carried him to the couch. 

They pressed heated kisses into skin and hair. Marking their love on the other’s body wherever they could find purchase. Hands roamed pulling hair and grabbing biceps. And when Rhett laid Link down on their couch and pressed his body to the cradle of Link’s hips there was no denying that both men were hard with desire already. 

Link gasped with the sensation of being so close to Rhett. The feeling of his hard cock pressed against Rhett’s made his head swim and he pulled back to catch a breath. Rhett took the opportunity to say something he’d been holding in for decades.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” 

Each declaration was punctuated with a kiss. Link’s collar bones, his neck, his temple.

Link pulled Rhett close and whispered into his ear, “I’ve loved you my whole life.”

It was all the permission Rhett needed. He worshiped Link’s body and rocked against him until they were both finishing in their jeans like teenagers. Sticky and satisfied the pair laid together on the couch exchanging lazy kisses and gentle touches. Trying to make up for all the lost time they denied themselves. 

Link was half asleep and half in awe of the way Rhett looked. He laid silently and listened to Rhett as he said, “I can’t believe it worked. I thought for sure you’d throw the cassette away.” 

Link ran his fingers through Rhett’s curls gently. 

“You doubted me? Haven’t you figured it out yet, Bo? All you have to do is be the brave one and I’ll follow your lead.” He placed a kiss on Rhett’s tshirt right about his heart. “Thanks for being the brave one.” Rhett kissed the top of Link’s head and grunted in affirmation.

Link snuggled into Rhett’s chest and closed his eyes. Just as he was about to doze off the smaller man popped up and looked Rhett in the eye. 

“Don’t think just because you love me, you’re getting out of giving me gifts. I have three days left and I want my secret presents.” Link flashed his crooked grin and poked at Rhett’s side. 

Rhett let out a booming ho-ho-ho laugh before pulling Link back down against his chest.

“You can have anything you want, Link. Diamonds, rubies. I don’t need any presents though because I’ve already got the most valuable gift of the season… you.”

[northcarolinanative]

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 (𝟻)

Chapter 5: The Bigger Picture

A/N: WOW! Y’all are so sweet and amazing <3 Here is Chapter 5. Tension is building, kinda. This is so s l o w burn that it’s hurting me. I kinda want this to be about more than just a romance tho? Especially in the beginning, but I am working on the other chapters, and where it is heading, I promise! Bare with me haha! Also I have no clue if those maps exist or if that’s even a thing. I’m just making it up, but it could be right haha. 

I practically dragged JJ through the front door of the Chateau. “What’s all this about Y/N” JJ finally asked as you both walked through the kitchen. I pulled my keys out of my pocket, fiddling on the keyring, finding the small golden key. I held it up to JJ, rattling the other keys, a smile plastered to my face. “A key? How exactly is that supposed to help us Y/N?” I rolled my eyes in response. I turned to the door, just on the side of the living room. 

My dad’s office. 

As long as I could remember, I was never allowed in there for extended periods of time. I would wander in some late nights when he left the door cracked, or to bring him a glass of water and a snack. I could see him now thinking back, hunched over the desk, glasses low on his nose, pen in one hand, the other holding the map that he was marking up. 

“Ah. Y/N. Taking care of your old man, making sure I stay alive I see” and he would chuckle, but I didn’t. I left, and days later her disappeared, he was killed all because of that stupid shipwreck, just like my brother. 

I rummaged through a few things, pulling binders down and looking through the first few pages. JJ looked over at me, honestly worried. I mean if I was watching someone else in my position I probably would be too. I know I probably looked crazy, I was grasping at short, short straws. It was all because I was not ready to give up on my brother just yet. I found the binder labeled “Ship maps”. I pulled it out and handed it to JJ. Okay, maybe this was a little far-fetched, but it was something. 

JJ took it carefully out of my hand. He hesitantly looked at me before looking down at the map, slowly unfolding it. I started to tap my fingers against the table. My nerves were on edge as JJ looked between the map he was unfolding and me. His hand reached down to cover mine that was tapping at an annoyingly fast pace. I bit my lip as he looked over the map. 

He furrowed his brows and looked up at me. “What am I looking at exactly?” He questioned. I laid the map out on the table. I couldn’t blame him, if my dad had not been into this stuff I wouldn’t know what was happening either. 

“Okay so here,” I pointed to one of the lines that were on the page, and traced it down the coast of North Carolina, to where it landed in a port in Charleston, “is the route that the ship was recorded to talk, based off of the sonar and the GPS in it. Ya know, the kinda thing that the bigger, hauling, cargo ships have? For the long trips?” I finished looking for the key. 

JJ slowly nodded his head looking at me. He could tell I might be on to something, he just was not quite sure yet. I flipped up the side of the map, just the first panel, and it showed an elaborate excel table, filled with numbers and symbols. “Here” I pointed to one of the highlighted symbols along the path that I previously traced, “Is…” I took my other hand to skim the table to the side, trying to find the matching color and symbol. “Ah. Here.” I tapped the symbol in the table, JJ leaned closer to me making my breath hitch involuntarily, we were so close, we were touching, practically no space between us. “See here it says that this ship reached 35.1146° N, 75.9810° W, on Saturday, May 14th, 2007, at…” I followed the line with my finger, 16:45” I finished my rant. 

“Okay.” JJ breathed out, his brows still knitted close together. I could see the worry in his eyes. At this moment I could not see it, but he thought I might have been going crazy, things are starting to get to me.”Y/N, this is great, but I don’t know what this has to do with John B.” He sighed. “But I'm not gonna lie, a girl who knows her way around the ocean, the commanding voyage out to sea, boss babe style, kinda hot Y/N” JJ joked, trying to lighten the mood and his worry, then he realized how close we were, but he didn’t move. 

I let out a laugh. It felt natural, which was nice. “I'm being serious JJ,” I said, still laughing and pushing his shoulder back. 

“Whatever you say,” He paused. “Princess.” I rolled my eyes looking back over the map. “What does all this mean though? How is this map, from before we knew what the Merchant was, going to help us find John B?” 

“Ah, you have to think bigger JJ. You see if we can get the coordinates of the Phantom’s last signals, where it was found, or where it could have been between last night and when they pulled it up, we can cross-reference that, with any boats that may have come through. If we can somehow get a map from any of those larger companies, maybe the ferries, hell we might even be able to get it off the internet. We can see if any boats came around then start from there?” I said, but it sounded like a question. “I know that it’s barely anything, but it’s something JJ!’ I continued rambling. “If the ships picked up JB and Sarah, pulled them on board, then  maybe…” I didn’t know how to finish the thought. I looked up from the scattered maps to JJ. 

JJ stared blankly at the maps then up at me. He both put his hand on the sides of my face and just looked at me. He probably thought I was crazy, that I was losing my mind. “You’re a genius Y/N” He then placed a quick dramatic kiss on the top of my forehead. “Seriously, I never would have even thought to look into any of that.” He stepped back. I was slightly taken about by his actions had we always been this touchy with one another when John B was around. “So where the hell do we start Nancy Drew?” JJ said, rubbing his hands together making me laugh. 

“The ferry would be a good place?” I said shrugging my shoulders. “But I haven't exactly thought that far ahead” I laughed a little, and saw a smile still on JJ’s face.

“Then we’ll start at the ferry’s office!”  JJ said moving out of the office. I looked up and around the room. At all the research that my father did. All the books that line the walls, the maps hung up, all of it. I wanted to get rid of it. My skin felt hot and I could feel it turning red. I gripped the table tightly, hoping the anger would pass. A picture frame on the wall caught my attention. I lifted it from the hook it was sitting on. In the frame was a picture of the Royal Merchant, labeled and matted. Stuck on the outside of the glass, covering the lower corner of the Merchant was a picture of the three of us, John B, my dad, and I. It was taken a few summers ago by our neighbor, we had come back from a long day out on the boat fishing. I felt tears start to form in my eyes. My back was facing the door so I didn’t see JJ enter the room. He came up behind me, putting his hands on either of my shoulders. He looked down at the photos in my hands. 

I reached one hand up to wipe a stray tear. I was so sick of crying. “I can’t believe that a shipwreck from the 1800s made me lose two of the most important people in my life.” 

“I know” JJ spun me around to look at him. “You have a plan,” He said smiling

“We’ve got a plan” I corrected him. “Actually, before we head out on this chase, do you think you could help me with something?” I said softly. 

“Anything,” JJ replied. The worried look still in his eyes.  

“Can you help me clean up here?” I looked around at the mess, from when I got here, and the mess that I had just made. “I don’t know, I just want to clean it up, lock the door, and not think about it for a while,” I said, starting to fold-up maps. 

“Of course.” JJ smiled starting to close up binders and arrange them on the shelf. “If  you were going to use me as a maid Routledge, you could have at least bought me one of those cute costumes?” 

I pretended to gag. “JJ that is an image that I did not need in my head.” 

“You may not have needed it, but I bet you’re enjoying it.” He winked in my direction. I felt the blush creeping back onto my face. 

“In your dreams J,” I said with a laugh. 

CH 6

Tagged; @nikki082489 @lovelymaybankk @dolanfivsosxox @alexa-playafricabytoto @downbytheouterbanks @heyhargrove​ @kayln021 @readysteadygo23   @im-a-stranger-thing @imagines-and-preferences1216

If you wanna be tagged comment or message me:) 

[liebegott]

Southern Wisdom. | Bull Randleman

as requested by @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​

(click here to read on wattpad)

feel free to send me a request!

pairing: bull x reader

wc: 1k

synopsis: y/n struggles with getting what she’s seen during the war, and bull offers some advice.

a/n: okay i was supposed to write something meaningful here but i’m so distracted by skinny’s face in the gif oops. anyways i feel like bull always had the best advice, and it’d always come in the form of old sayings. 

thank you for reading, and i hope you like this one!

tagging: @floydtab​ @alienoresimagines​ @order-of-river-phoenix​ @julianneday1701​ @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant​ @wexhappyxfew​ @rarmiitage​ @mavysnavy​ @punkgeekchic​ @vintagelavenderskies​ @georgeluzwarmhugs​@ray--person​ @wecomrades​ @jussipogideonlaufeyson​ 

add yourself to my taglist or message me if you wanna be on it!

*** 

There was always something about Sergeant Bull Randleman that sat right with you. 

Prior to the war, he hardly paid any attention to you, one of the company’s medics. He was always too busy making sure each man under him was being taken care of and was acting right. You looked up to him for that.

The first time he had ever spoken to you was during the assault on Carentan. He had carried a wounded soldier to you through all the debris and the gunfire. Crouched beside a fallen soldier, you checked for the man’s pulse, your ears ringing. Sergeant Randleman called for a medic, and you saw him running to you through your peripherals.

“Doc Y/L/N,” he said, breathless, placing the wounded man gently on the ground, “You got this? I gotta go back.” The man was unconscious, his leg completely blown off, and you were stunned for a couple of moments, staring down at him. “Y/N,” Sergeant Randleman said gently, placing a hand on your shoulder, “You got this. You got this.”

Sergeant Randleman ran off, his words playing in your head, and it was enough to get you back to work. Throughout the rest of the battle, you continued to repeat his words of encouragement to yourself, tending to each wounded man you came across.

Sitting in a bar back in England, you hardly touched the whisky on the table in front of you. You weren’t a drinker, the farthest from it, in fact, but you were slightly shaken up from what had happened back in France. 

“You okay, Doc?” Sergeant Randleman’s thick Southern accent drew you from your thoughts, taking a seat in front of you, “What ever happened to that soldier? Never got his name. A mighty shame.” You shrugged, lifting the glass cup to your lips and taking a sip. The drink was bitter against your tongue, and you made a face. Sergeant Randleman chuckled, taking out the cigar between his lips.

“He’s okay,” you managed to say, your voice hoarse. You haven’t spoken to anyone much since you got back. “He’s going home. All thanks to you, sarge,” you said, lifting the glass cup in faux cheers. The man smiled at you gently, staring down at the drink in his hand.

“You didn’t answer me though. How are you?” he repeated his question, taking out another cigar to offer you-- Where he got it from, you had no clue. His face was serious.

Kindly shaking your head, you shrugged. It was tough being the only woman in the paratroopers. You had to wrangle for respect, and once you had it, there was always a certain reverence to it. It was hard when you were still just a young woman, also snatched up by circumstance.

“I’m okay,” you replied, your voice cracking a bit.

Sergeant Randleman shook his head, ordering you to stand up. “Don’t piss on my leg and tell me it’s rainin, Doc,” he frowned, his face extremely serious despite how ridiculous his expression was. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Walk with me, Y/N.”

You followed him out the door, wrapping your arms around you, the wind cold. It was always cold in Europe, and despite only being here for a short while, you missed the warmth of home.

“So, what’s on your mind?” he asked, stuffing his cigar in his coat pocket. You looked up at him, realising then how much taller he was up close. After all, this was the first time you had ever actually spoken.

You shrugged, rubbing your hands together for warmth. “Just seen some stuff,” you whispered, looking around to avoid his piercing stare, “Heard a lot of stuff, sarge.”

“Like?” Sergeant Randleman was patient, his voice coaxing you to keep talking. You knew the other men often came to him for what they called his ‘Southern advice,’ but there was no advice that would change how you felt. “You can call me Bull, ya know.”

You smiled at him, your breath coming out in little puffs. “Their last call is either their mama or a medic,” you swallowed hard, looking back towards the dark horizon, “That’s not something I can ever get to terms with. That they were calling me before they bled out.”

Bull nodded, rubbing your shoulder sympathetically. “I never expected to have another man’s blood running down my back as well,” he scratched the back of his neck, “But here we are.”

He was right. They were all making sacrifices. “It’s a shame we were born too early, huh?” you grinned, trying to brush off the swell of emotions in your chest.

Shaking his head, he stuck his hands in his pockets and stopped walking. “My momma always said the two most important days in a person’s life is the day they are born, and the day they find out why,” he said, facing you, “I know why. And I know you do too. We were born to do good.”

Tears swelled in your eyes, and unable to stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around him. Bull hugged you back, his hands rubbing your back slowly. “Sorry, Bull,” you muttered, pulling away from him, “But I think your momma stole that from Mark Twain.”

Bull chuckled, turning back towards the pub. Though the conversation felt like it went on forever, they were only a few steps away. “Thank you,” you said to him, giving him one last hug, “I’m doing good, and that’s what matters.”

“Ya know, Y/N,” he suddenly said, looking down at you, his cigar now between his lips again, “Are you sure you aren’t a Southern woman? You have the strength and gentleness of one.” He pushed open the pub door for you, letting you in first. You blushed, hiding your face with your hair. 

“They were right about you, sarge,” you replied, sitting back down on your seat as he turned away to watch the other men play darts. He looked at you with a tilt of the head and a questioning look on his face. “You might just be the smartest man in the entire company, Southern wisdom and all.”

[jackdaniel69nice]

The Lost Boys, of Ninjago

It was just like any other Wednesday. Jay had a routine, he’d do his training, spend some time with the other ninja and use the second half of the day visiting his parents, normal. Well that’s as far as everyone else knew anyway. He wasn’t technically lying, he did visit his parent…for a while. Have some tea, pick up some scrap, and be on his way. No his real target was somewhere else, a place no one else knew.

Jay inserted the large key into the gate of Cliff Gordon’s, or rather his, flat and pushed the electric bike through, closing it behind him. Now at this point it’s been nearly a year since Jay found out he was adopted (and a few other things we’ll refrain from mentioning) and he’s steadily been making progress with the fortunes of the deceased actor. He has made a few contracts, with strict confidentiality rules, and personally he thinks he’s done some real good. From anonymous donations to fueling their own necessary ninja needs, he’s thinks he’s made a difference. Of course the thing that drew most of his attention was here. Jay may have a short attention span but there are a few things that you simply can’t leave undone.

Echo was strange to say the least. With minimal programming of only a few vocal patterns, and damaged at that, to his curiousness and wonder towards all he saw, he could be described as childlike. Which is fair, he could of only been build within the last 5 years, not nearly enough time to learn all the important skills needed for even a normal Nindroid. Despite his disrepair it was obvious echo was sapient, which makes his abandonment harder to understand. Jay understood in a way, though he never had to deal with the effects of his…heritage at a young age it was easy to sympathize with the rust covered Nindroid. So he went back, it’s not like he could just leave him, but…things were difficult. There were other things holding him back, it was still to soon, to fresh to talk about. So he simply settled or secret visits at night, its not like he could sleep anyway. He started bringing things with him, things for repairs (it was hard to ignore when his arms kept falling off) and things to entertain him like books, crayons, and games. He spent hours just talking, teaching, and answering what questions he had, he was getting better over time. He looked so…overjoyed when he came back, almost surprised at times. Tai-D was good company but it was so much to him when he visited, he was lonely. So he moved. It took a lot of coaxing but he managed to convince him him to come to the flat, it was closer and more convenient for visits. Echo adored the large house and settled right in, Tai-D came too of course.

Things were great for a while, Echo started a true education with a passion for reading and excitement for the new world he had been introduced to. With an affinity for nature, he spends most time in the backyard drawing bugs and documenting them. Jay began making upgrades to his system including a brand knew copper plated “skin” upon his request as he had a likening to the color. Maybe if Jay hadn’t have been so preoccupied with him, he would of noticed Cole sooner. When they finally identified the fading, it was a shock, suddenly his attention had to shift and Echo had was pushed to the wayside. He still visited, just not as often. Even after day of the departed they were soon thrown into the problems with the time twins, and finally, master wu’s disappearance.

Now we were here, the search for master wu had been fruitless so far. It had only been a moth but still utterly consumed his time. Wednesday visits had been going on for a while now, and while it wasn’t ideal, this was the last time to introduce the copper colored Nindroid. Not that it was his decision to make. Echo had been…dodgy towards the topic when brought up, whether it was just nerves or the strange feelings he had toward his elder brother, he had yet to say. The Juliens were a topic he avoided at all times, something Jay hoped he would open about in the future.

Presently, Jay had rode his bike up the rest of the drive way and had parked it in his distracted state. He shook his head to clear his cluttered thoughts and pushing his guilt aside he walked up the path towards the front door but upon approach what he saw gave him pause. The door was open. Alright, strange but nothing to panic about, maybe he was just in the front yard, though he wasn’t supposed to be. He picked up the pace. He was within good sight of the porch and- Not only was the door actually knocked in and there were several windows broken, there were no lights on inside.

Alright time to panic. He broke into a run and removed the weapon from the bag on his back, Lightning already surging at his fingertips. Echo knew self defense and was quite capable in it too, his speed and skill could best him in sparing, and Jay had added his own upgrades to make him more battle suited. But that didn’t stop his heart from hammering away as he rocketed into the house. Rationale would tell him it was only petty thieves deciding to ransack an abandoned house full of valuables but he had never been an optimist. Knowing how things were in the life of the ninjas, it was safe to assume the worst.

He burst through the doorway, breathless and weapon raised, he looked around. The inside was trashed, there were obvious signs of a struggle, but no one to be seen. He was to late. Guilt crept around his heart but he pushed it down, he needed to focus. Keeping his guard up, he began to search the house. He had to be here, desperation clawed at him, scouring each room provided nothing until he got to the studio, his makeshift workspace. The place had been ransacked, scorch marks covered the metallic walls. All his blueprints and supplies were gone, with only piles of ash and rubble remaining, all his work, destroyed. Who did this, and why, Echo would of come to him if he had escaped. If he wasn’t here then that means he was taken, or destroyed. Growing ever weary, he scanned the piles for any remaining evidence. He didn’t find any clues, what did though was much worse.

Tai-D, or what was left of him, scraped beyond repair. Staring wide eyed in horror he could only sit in shock for a moment, tears pricked in his eyes. He gently touched one or the scrap pieces as if though he could sooth the long gone robotic friend. Biting his lip he turned his head away and closed his eyes. Grief, rotten and painful exploded from his chest. He was beyond angry. Turning back, he gently scooped the pieces into his shirt and carrying it out to the main entrance. He would search the whole place again he wouldn’t, couldn’t stop, not until-

Jay paused a moment in his searching, heart hammering. The secret room. With a glance it was obvious that it hadn’t been broken into. Echo knew about it, though he was told stay out of it. He was smart, if he was damaged it would be the safest place to hide. Carefully placing Tai-D on the wrecked coffee table, he leaped over to the secret latch and with an ounce of hope bound towards the doorway forcing his way inside before the door could even finish opening. With baited breath he stood, without the light of the windows he couldn’t see clearly and summoned a spark to light the crawl space. And just there, huddled in the corner he was.

Jay let out a sob and rushed to him calling out, but he was unresponsive. Upon closer inspection his arm had been completely torn off and a massive gash along his leg show it was unusable. His eyes had gone dark. Even if he was inoperable his head and torso had minor injuries, he could be salvaged. Clinging him to his chest he apologize profusely through his cries. He knew it was futile, he would never hear him, but the relief was overwhelming. He would protect him, do better, make him stronger. He wouldn’t leave him alone ever again. After a moment, he pulled back and wiping his eyes he attempted to drag the immobile Nindroid out into the open. He would work out everything later, right now echo needed help. Thinking fast he got out his phone and dialed the number, the sooner they left the better.

His parents soon arrived and he quickly explained the situation. They were shocked but more then willing to help. Getting Echo and Tai-D in the car, they headed back to the scrapyard. Jay released a sigh of relief letting his head fall towards Echo, who sat with him in the back. He still may not know who had done this but for now they were safe. When he woke up, Echo could explain what happened, he’d get answers, then retribution. But for now he was happy, even if Tai was…gone, he could only be glad Echo was ok. They were going to fix him, everything was going to be alright.