#me trying to revive the tags take 2

[thegracefullion]

10 Generations. 10 Different Heroines. 1 Legacy. Welcome to the Literary Heroine Legacy Challenge! I’ve been itching for a good legacy to revive my love for the Sims 4, and I haven’t found one so I wrote one myself.  I was inspired after reading Emma— the family dynamics, drama, and romance were everything I ever wanted in a Sims challenge. So I modernized the stories and adapted them to fit this game.  Special shoutout to Designergirl81, who I met through MissLollypopSims’ Discord! The generations of Anne of Avonlea and Dorothy were their brainchildren. 💗 I designed each generation to reference a famous literary heroine. This is a very story-oriented challenge but feel free to bend, tweak, and change as much as you can! Sims Challenges aren’t meant to limit your fun. 😉 TL;DR: Play your own way while letting these rules guide your storytelling! The official tag of the challenge is #TheLiteraryHeroineChallengeTS4. Have fun! Check out the rules here or keep reading!

Basic Rules

Play on any life span you want but I recommend playing on Normal life span.

You are encouraged to play with female heirs. Of course, this is optional!

You are discouraged from using money cheats. Some generations have stories that are related to their social class— so try to stay true to the story as much as you can.

You can live wherever you want unless the generation states otherwise.

Feel free to customize each generation’s race and sexual orientation

Unless specifically stated, each generation has to finish their aspiration and career.

Even if most of these books are classics, I wrote this with a more modern take on it. You don’t need any mods or CC to fit the eras’ aesthetics— but if you want to, you totally can!

⭐ means there’s a recommended mod for this!

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 1: Elizabeth Bennett 📚 Do not consider me now as an elegant female, intending to play you, but as a rational creature, speaking the truth from her heart. 📚

It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that all Sims 4 challenges must start with an heir. In this case, that’s you, which is surprising because everyone else in your life has decided that you are plain, especially when compared to your other two sisters. Lately though, you start to sense that you’ve been getting more attention from your neighbors. One particular Sim hasn’t been able to leave you and your family alone… and you don’t like them at all, not one bit. Well… maybe just a bit.

Aspiration: Successful Lineage 

Traits: Family Oriented, Hot-Headed, Bookworm OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Journalist

→ Master the Writing skill. → Live in a rundown family home passed down by your parents with two sisters until you are married. → Have a negative relationship with a neighbor. → Reject a proposal from your work boyfriend. → Build a relationship with your neighbor after you reject the proposal of your ex. → Have a scandal involving one of your sisters that your neighbor supports you through. → Fall in love and marry this neighbor then move in with him. → Have two children.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 2: Emma Woodhouse 💗  It is very difficult for the prosperous to be humble.  💗

Growing up, you were always the sheltered one. Your father was very protective of you, and therefore never let you out of his sight. Of course, that didn’t stop you from becoming well-loved by the entire town. You were known for throwing the best dinner parties and befriending everyone your father and mother knew. Needless to say, this got to your head a bit. You weren’t arrogant, you were confident. In everyone’s eyes, you could do no wrong. Well, everyone except your childhood best friend— who was never afraid to call you out for being a bit clueless at times. 

Aspiration: Neighborhood Confidante OR Party Animal

Traits: Self-Assured, High Maintenance, Music-Lover OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Romance Consultant or Lawyer

→ Master the Charisma and Piano skills. → Host at least 5 gold-star dinners. → Have a childhood best friend who’s a bit older than you. For example: When you’re 17 (end of teenage years), they’re already 20 (start of young adult years). * → You can’t have good friends who are your age until your childhood best friend ages up into a young adult. → Make a new friend that you treat like a “project” until you two fall out. Choose if you two will reconcile in the future. → Profess your love to your childhood best friend during a heated argument. → Marry your best friend and live with your mother and father in your childhood home until your parents die. Have one child. *It goes without saying to only get with your childhood best friend when the two sims are both young adults 🙂 No super uncomfortable age gaps, please.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 3: Scarlett O’Hara ✨ “Tomorrow, I’ll think of some way to get him back.” ✨ All your life, you grew up spoiled. Your mother and father were so in love, and you almost expected to have a story as romantic and easy as theirs. However, when your high school flame elopes quickly with someone else right after graduation, you start to spiral. No longer able to get things your way, you begin to self-sabotage and jump from relationship to relationship. Deep down you know you should stop and smarten up but frankly, my dear, you don’t give a damn.

Aspiration: Soulmate— you fail this 

Traits: Materialistic, Genius, Jealous OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: None until your divorce then become a Manual Laborer + Barista

⭐ Recommended Mods: Healthcare Redux Mod, Extreme Violence Mod

→ Don’t master any skill. → Have a high school flame who elopes with someone else. → Elope immediately with someone else. Have them die tragically.* → Marry another person quickly who you have bad compatibility with. Get negative romance with them right before they pass.* → Marry a third time. Have them catch you in a compromising moment with your high school flame, which leads to a divorce that leaves you with nothing. → End up working two part time jobs to keep your household running. → Have 4 kids with your 3 husbands (you can cheat for twins, if you want). *You decide how they die. I recommended having mods like the Healthcare Redux and Extreme Violence in your game for realistic roleplay reasons— but if he gets tragically eaten by a Cowplant that works too! 🙂

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 4: Jo March 🧾 “When the first soreness was over, she could laugh at her poor little book, yet believe in it still, and feel herself the wiser and stronger for the buffeting she had received.” 🧾 Growing up was not easy for you. Your childhood was incredibly unpredictable with your mother jumping from relationship-to-relationship. And when things started to stabilize emotionally, you ended up in poverty.  Luckily, you had your siblings to cling to, and a passion for writing that’s unmatched. You wrote a ton of things across different genres, except for romance which you didn’t quite understand. In fact, everyone always expected you to be a little woman, not rough or wild, but you knew in your heart that’s not what you were destined to become.

Aspiration: Best-Selling Author

Traits: Creative, Unflirty, and Ambitious OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Author

⭐ Recommended Mods: Writing Career Overhaul, SNB Banking

→ Master the Writing and Logic skills. → Be best friends with all of your siblings. → Start selling short stories as a teenager to help pay the bills. → Get a best friend in high school who professes their love to you during graduation. Turn them down. Optional: Have them marry one of your other siblings. → Move away to the city to focus on your writing. Always send 30% of your income to your mother until she dies. → Due to a tragedy in the family, adopt a child of one of your siblings.* → Win a Starlight Accolade for one of your novels. → Never marry but live a fulfilling life. *They are to be the next heir to preserve the bloodline. You can adopt more if you want.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 5: Anne Shirley 📖 “I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.” 📖 You were adopted by your aunt and lived a happy childhood. Despite being surrounded by family drama, you never let it dampen your spirit. You struggled with social cues and caused mayhem wherever you went— of course, that never stopped you from making your voice heard. You were, afterall, raised by someone who was never afraid to make a point. However, unlike your aunt, you always longed for romance. You always imagined big declarations of passion— but perhaps it’s time to learn that love creeps to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways.

Aspiration: Academic OR Soulmate

Traits: Romantic, Socially Awkward, and Loyal OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Education Career

⭐ Recommended Mod: Education Overhaul

→ Master the Research and Debate skill. → Have a childhood enemy that you become best friends with in high school. → Go to University and study Language and Literature. → Fall out with your best friend while in University. → Start dating someone you meet in University but break up right after graduation. → Get a job in the Education Career and write on the side. → Reconnect with your former best friend and realize you love them. → Get married to your best friend. → Retire from the Education career and become a freelance writer in your twilight years.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 6: Nancy Drew 🔍 “I don't promise to forget the mystery, but I know I'll have a marvelous time.”  🔍 Every bedtime, your mother read you stories that she and your grandmother wrote. Among all of those, it’s your grandmother’s mysteries that impacted you the most. There was something so thrilling about being a heroic, fearless woman who helped others out. Because of this, you gained a bunch of friends who loved you very deeply. With their support, you grew up as a well-known detective who can solve any case.  It was a fun life, but you eventually settled down in Henford-On-Bagley to have a family of your own.

Aspiration: Friend of the World 

Traits: Generous, Nosy, and Outgoing OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Detective OR  ⭐ Zerbu’s Simvestigations Mod

→ Master the fitness skill. → Be close friends with both your parents. → Have 2 best friends who are either your roommates (Discover University) or live in the same apartment complex as you (For Rent) for your entire YA life. → Get engaged to someone you meet on-the-job. → Before marrying your fiance, go on a trip to Selvadorada with your 2 best friends and explore the Jungle Temples. → Settle down in Henford-On-Bagley and have a farm life of your own. → Never move away once you settle in Henford-On-Bagley.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 7: Dorothy Gale 🐶 “If we walk far enough, we shall sometime come to someplace.”  🐶 Growing up you knew that there was more to the world than what was outside your own backdoor.  Afterall, your mother was a famous detective— if she went on her own adventures, why can’t you?

With her and your father’s support, you spend your young adult life traveling. You made some great friends along the way (and even some loves), but eventually you start to wonder if there is no place like home.

Aspiration: Local Aspirations— complete at least two

Beach Life

Mt. Komorebi Sightseer 

Fount of Tomarani Knowledge

Traits: Adventurous, Dog Lover, and Loves Outdoors OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Any Freelance Career 

⭐ Recommended Mods: SimNation Travel, Home Region

→ Have a dog that goes everywhere with you. → Live in 3 or more worlds during your Young Adult life. → Make 3 best friends that each teach you a valuable life lesson. → After making your three best friends, use reward points to add the following traits: Brave, Savant, and Incredibly Friendly. → As an adult, realize you miss your family and return home. → Have a long distance relationship with the father of your children.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 8: Wendy Darling 🌟 “She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweet mocking mouth. ”  🌟 You grew up waiting. First, for your father’s seasonal visits… which eventually stops when you become a teenager. Next, for the opportunity to leave Henford-on-Bagley to pursue your dreams of becoming an actress. And finally, for your first love, a man who refused to propose to you, no matter how long you waited for him to. Eventually you grew tired waiting and decided to grow up. You married a sensible man, had a child, and gave up your dreams of becoming an actress. Still, you held on to the dreams of your first love and end up reconnecting in a night of passion that leaves you pregnant with his child. Realizing that he’ll never grow up, you decide to dedicate your life to your family and husband.

Aspiration: Master Actor/Actress - you fail this or the⭐ Housewife Aspiration (after you marry)

Traits: Perfectionist, Proper, and Cheerful OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Actor/Actress

→ Master the Parenting skill. → Have a distant family dynamic with your father who never lives with you. → Join the drama club and meet your first love. Optional: He has the childish trait. → Give your first love all of your major romantic milestones. → Lose touch with your first love when you move to Del Sol Valley. → Marry a man you’d consider as sensible. Have one child with him. → Have a one time secret affair that results in another child. → Dedicate your life to your children afterwards.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 9: Alice Liddell  🐰 “It would be so nice if something made sense for a change.”  🐰

There were times you felt like you never truly belonged anywhere. While everyone at home lived and abided by your parents’ rules, your head was always in the clouds. Sensibilities and propriety were never in your vocabulary, much to the disdain of your father and the rest of your siblings. Still, you were a free spirit that could never be controlled. After moving out as a young adult, you fell in love with cooking and mixology. You also met a group of misfits who were as different as you. Every Sunday, you’d host special “tea” parties with them, that broadened your worldview and made you realize that the world gets curiouser and curiouser with each passing day.

Aspiration: Master Mixologist or Master Chef

Traits: Clumsy, Foodie, and Childish OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Culinary Career

⭐ Recommended Mods: Basemental, Grannies Cookbook, Open Love Life

→ Master the Cooking and Mixology Skills. → Have a juice/nectar hobby on the side. → Have a club with people who have weird or eccentric traits.* → Fall in love with someone with the Erratic Trait. → Host “tea” parties every Sunday in your own home. ⭐ Optional: Use the Basemental Mods and have your Sims get high on dope/drunk on alcohol during the tea parties. → Dye your hair a different, brighter color. → Live in a quirky and colorful house. → Befriend a rabbit who you talk to constantly. Name them The Mad Hatter. → ⭐ Optional: Be in a polyamorous relationship with Romantic Boundaries OR the Open Love Life Mod → Have two children. *You decide what weird and eccentric means.

☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Generation 10: Countess Ellen Olenska  🎨 “The real loneliness is living among all these people who only ask one to pretend.”  🎨

You appreciated your mother’s lifestyle. You saw the world for what it could become, and not what everyone wanted it to be. However, you worried about your younger sister. You saw her innocence and wanted to protect it. When you turned into a young adult, you moved away and took your sister with you to start anew. However, life was not always easy. Straight out of teenhood, you married someone from a different city and had a tumultuous relationship with him. You separate with him and continue to care for your sister. You’re able to provide for her through your paintings, which also brought you a lot of fame. When she grew up into a Young Adult, she formed an attachment with a man that… intrigued you. She married him. This kept him in your life, but made it difficult for you to ignore your feelings. One night, you find yourself alone together, and you must make a choice: stay with him and break your sister's heart, or leave forever to give them peace. You have a price to pay either way— we can't behave like people in novels without consequence, can we?

Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire

Traits: Gloomy, Art Lover, and Family Oriented OR choose/roll for the last trait

Career: Critic 

⭐ Recommended Mods: RPO, Wonderful Whims, Custom Relationship Bits, Soulmates

→ Master the Painting Skill. → Become a Level 3 Celebrity with your paintings. → Marry someone who isn’t your soulmate straight out of high school. Have a negative relationship with him before separating. ⭐ Optional: Only temporarily separate with him using the RPO Mod. → Be best friends with your sister. → Become soulmates with the partner of your sister without consummating the relationship. → When you’re an adult, invite your sister’s partner over, and make a choice— woohoo together and break your sister's heart, or end the emotional affair. → If you woohoo together - Tell your sister the next day and become enemies. Name your child after them. → If you end the emotional affair - Move away from your love and get back together with your ex-husband. Die without having your own children.

[random-thoughts-uwu]

𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝

yall this is probably the biggest hear me out but like just HEAR ME OUT.

tags: blade x reader, yingxing x reader, angst??, fluff??, sfw, established relationship ... apologies if its not written well, this is at like 2 am

So, Blade is basically like the love child of Nanook and Yaoshi or whatever, right? He's got both of their things. BUT. BUT. WHAT IF. Yaoshi didn't actually give him the innate ability to regenerate/revive/heal whatever, and instead it was assigned to YOU. Blade's past lover.

✦•···················•✦•···················•✦•···················•✦•···················•✦

Wayyy back during the HighCloud Quintet and all that fun stuff, YOU were Yingxing's dearest.

He was a craftsman, and you were you, a medic. During your young ages you would often watch him and admire his handiwork and skills, and were also the one to scold him and bandage his hands or relieve burns and cuts. You went from childhood friends to awkward young teens, struggling to communicate with each other. He was shy and insecure, often doubting his own charms and self worth, while you were in a similar boat, not wanting to confess and ruin your friendship or make things even more tense between the two of you. This awkward little dance continued on until Baiheng came along and helped you two. Yingxing finally gained the courage to confess to you, which you wholeheartedly accepted (the confession may or may not have been to the partial credit of Dan Feng and the others, who probably drowned Yingxing in advice and suggestions for the special occasion).

You still remember it pretty well; how could you not? You were all just a group of silly teens trying to navigate the messy thing we call life. The whole gang were gathered on the best patch of grass in the area, laying back and gazing up at the starry night sky. It was a summer night, with a cool breeze and the sound of crickets and the low hum of the streets in the distance as people settled in for the night. Somehow, the others managed to discreetly leave without you noticing, leaving just you and Yingxing. And the rest was history.

The two of you grew up together, sharing accomplishments and memories, from tender moments alone together to loud and energetic ones with your friends, to intense and life threatening, adrenaline pumping scenes on the battlefield. Before you both knew it, you were married and happily enjoying the company of your friends and family. Every day you would assist Yingxing in his duties, visit him with cool drinks or praise his latest weapon, and nights were either spent in long walks around the Luofu or cuddling beneath the stars, with whatever cuts lovingly tended to and ailments cured.

"Y/N...I'm home," came his soft, slightly weary voice as he steps into the modest place you two called your own. "Welcome home, dearest," your soft voice responds with a warm smile, drawing him into your arms where he lets out a long breath, slowly reciprocating the hug and nuzzling into your shoulder. "I missed you," he muttered, his rich voice muffled by your skin as he pressed a few light kisses to it. In the kitchen, the food is warm. "I missed you too..." you cooed, nuzzling against the side of his face and peppering him with kisses, which he melts into with a satisfied smile.

"Yingxing!" You quickly scold, drawing back as you saw the cuts on his hands and holding them in your own. He only responds with a cocky grin. "My goodness," you uttered with a heavy sigh, setting him down on the couch as you pulled out your kit and diligently tended to his hands. "Just a few scratches, nothing I can't take- mh!" he was quick to muffle a wince as you dabbed the alcohol a little harder than normal, giving him a deadpanned look. All was forgiven in the end of course, as you kissed his bandaged palms and gave him his proper greeting, seated on his lap as his lips met yours, his hands slipping out of yours to tenderly brush your hair away from your face, his softened gaze meeting yours. "Thank you, my love."

And of course, we can't forget Baiheng's death. It was a noble one that left you all in pieces, with Dan Feng and Yingxing in disbelief and denial. The two researched for a way to revive her, and despite your pleading to Yingxing, crying to him to stay with you, to accept Baiheng's noble death, he simply couldn't.

"Yingxing!" He's never heard your voice like that, so full of raw emotion, of fear and hurt and confusion and pain and- "Please, Yingxing!" Your hands grasp his, squeezing them with desperation as your widened eyes meet his, wet with tears. "You know you can't do this! I loved Baiheng just as much, and I know this is hard, but we have to let her go!"

It killed him, seeing the state his own decisions left you in. You felt a resentment towards him, but that was only the mask of hurt, betrayal, sadness, and an overwhelming sense of love. He knows that if he could, he would go back and chose you. You, and you, and you, all over and over again. You were hurt beyond imagination seeing the scene before you, watching the man you loved most get taken from you, turned into the so-called abomination today.

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Time went on, eventually taking your lonely soul.

Things after that...were very complicated. It's all a blur in your mind, but whatever happened, you were back with your lover, but not quite. You were simply assigned by Yaoshi to "protect" Blade and revive him whenever he died. While it felt cruel to keep your lover from returning to you, you were aware of his punishment. You couldn't hold onto the resentment you felt once before when he chose Baiheng's failed revival over you, seeing the state of the man now. No matter how much time passes, how many things come between you, your love for him is unfortunately everlasting, and you have a strong feeling that it will remain that way for eternity.

Nobody could see you; you were essentially his "guardian angel" in some sense. You were simply there, watching him with soft eyes, being his brief moment of tranquility in his deaths: a nameless being, a faceless entity, warm, tender fingers caressing him and his worn heart, soft lips against his calloused skin, gentle whispers that echoed in his mind and left him with something akin to peace for those few moments. He knew he wouldn't get his proper death for some time, but he sure will keep trying nonetheless. If not for an eternal rest, then for the dark, empty, yet warm and fulfilling moments of respite. Sometimes, he could almost swear he heard a voice calling him, a soft and familiar one, calling his old name, whether it be in his black dreams or moments of death.

It pained you to see him like this now: the caring, charming yet arrogant man now reduced to what he viewed as a lifeless weapon. The craftsman-- now the unfortunate craft and only a shell of what once was.

It's lonely, living like this. If you could even call it living. You wish you could talk to him, to meet his gaze once more and ask him why. You wish to kiss his lips and share soft whispers in the dead of night. But you can't, and sometimes you wish that you could have been left in the realm of the dead. But this was somewhat worth it, to continue to heal his wounds and kiss the scars along his skin whether he could feel it or not, to keep him alive and only pray that someday, he can find his peace and tranquility, find something to make his life worth living for. You're thankful for the Stellaron Hunters, despite the nature of their work, you can feel a bit of happiness, seeing them treat him like a human being. From Kafka's nickname for him, to Firefly and Silverwolf's antics.

You stand with him, watching the bloody scene before you, your fingers trailing along one of his injuries, the skin closing and flesh healing. You sigh softly, your hand lingering on his back as you lean your head against his shoulder. You're certain he can't feel or see you, but it brings you a semblance of comfort nonetheless. He gives a long sigh, straightening up. He doesn't need to turn his head, recognizing the familiar clicking of shoes against the cold ground. "Good job here, Bladie," Kafka comments. Silverwolf gives a faint hum in agreement, her fingers taping along her screen. "Yeah, thanks for covering us, man." "We're done here. Let's go."

Sometimes, you like to "hold" his hand, gazing up at him. So much has changed. And you desperately wish you could still be with him, despite the his actions that led him here. No matter how much you try, you can't stay mad. Baiheng was a good friend to you all, and she didn't deserve the death she got. But oh, how you wish you could go back and somehow change it all. Scenes of your past life always replay in your mind, remembering the good and the bad. It gives you a bit of a smile, recalling the whispered promises beneath the moonlight, arguments and disagreements that ended with kisses and apologies, running your fingers through his long, silky hair as you held him, sharing a cool drink in the shade and conversing about your days.

Blade, the immortal swordsman. A nightmare, a mara-stricken monster. But to you, he will always be Yingxing, your lover.

art credit: https://m.weibo.cn/detail/5068654389233859, @/ahriii7 on twt, LEMONNNICK on pinterest banner edit by me!

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring pt.2

A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long... I've been doubting doing a part two simply because the first blew up like... crazy... and I'm afraid this one isn't going to measure up to the first. But THANK YOU to everyone for the love on part one... it's wild how much you all liked it. I appreciate all of you thirsty fuckers. Summary: Ghost is set on giving you the same change of perception on reviving head after figuring out just how bad you are at taking care of yourself. T/W: NS/FW 18+ ONLY, cunnilingus, size kink if you squint, spit?, lots of fem! fluids, a little male fluids..., cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and I'm still terrified this is gonna suck.

You woke up with a sore throat.

No doubt or haze in your mind about how it happened or why. And the only thing you could think was the word big…. big… big…

God, Ghost was so fucking huge. You nearly mistook the images in your mind for a dream. One so goddamn filthy you’d not be able to look him in the eyes. Only one of those big hands was sprawled over your belly. Fingers digging possessively into the little bit of pudge under them. Denting your skin and steadily reminding you of the rest of his body melted against the back of yours. You’d not moved an inch all night. Highly unusual on a normal day, but not with your Lieutenant sharing the bed.

Sharing a seat on the plane home wasn’t familiar either.

He felt inhumanly warm with his arm rubbing yours as the jet stream rocked the cabin of the plane. And the looks shared between the others as they watched the pair of you didn’t make your skin feel any cooler. Gaz staring at the spot where Ghost’s thigh rested against yours nearly made your pants singe. You couldn’t believe Ghost was just sitting there with his head leaning back against the wall. Maybe sleeping… he wasn’t really moving much. But you couldn’t tell. Nor possess enough confidence to look up or nudge him and find out.

Your sore throat ached a bit too. Raw, and making your voice scratchy, it’d been hard to give a solid ‘good morning’ without everyone asking if you’d come down with something. Your only thought was how Ghost came down something… and you had swallowed. A thought that felt good to hear in your own head… at least when Captain Price wasn’t looking at you with sharp, observant eyes.

Surprisingly, Ghost wasn’t the one who made you feel anxious. He’d been… different in leading up to the flight home. Having your bag packed before you’d noticed, getting you up before the others…. ‘Answer their questions later, little one.’ he’d whispered, masked mouth heating up your ear as he murmured so closely to it. Thoughtful… you’d decided. Realizing only after he’d solved the problem that waking up in bed with him would’ve caused a stir amongst the boys. He even made you tea… the way you like it; With some thick honey at the bottom. No doubt for your rasping voice.

No. Ghost was different.

No one had the gall to mention the Lieutenant strangely shadowing you though. Like you’d suddenly gained a massive black phantom tagging alone at your heels. On missions he would linger close by without anyone noticing, but that just felt… professional. Watching his wide shoulders slump towards yours while sitting on a shitty, makeshift, bench in a cargo plane? That was a whole different look. Even Price spent a good half hour chewing on an unlit cigar, trying to work out what you two had talked about the night before for Ghost to act like this. It was clear though. None of them suspected anything close to what actually happened.

Sitting next to him felt surreal. Especially when he’d been the one who silently insisted that you sit next to him. Having snatched you by your belt and tugged you onto the bench beside him instead of letting you find somewhere mushed between Gaz and Soap like normal. A low grunt of a sound and a firm nod pointed in your direction once he got a look at you sitting next to him much more shyly than normal.

You could smell his cologne, and memorize the tattoos peeking out close to his wrist. Feel his leg twitch to steady himself in his seat when the plane shook a bit. Even listen to the sound of his steady breathing. A whole new experience you’d not really thought about trying before. You nearly felt like you were learning Ghost all over again. Taking every small movement and reexamining it. Because… you couldn’t deny that he had readjusted his view of you.

A blowjob shouldn’t have felt that… intimate, you thought. Remembering the undeniably filthy things Ghost had said. It should’ve left you fulfilled… but not like you actually were. Some warm, expanding feeling, filling up your chest and making you want to hide your face and giggle. A grade school crush level of nervous energy you’d never felt towards a man before. Yet here you were, sitting there half-dumbstruck, watching your Lieutenant stretch his long legs and sigh softly as the landing gear rolled to a stop on the tarmac.

“Comin’?” He muttered, voice level. Maybe a bit impatient as those dark eyes settled on you.

Normal… you reminded yourself. He wasn’t talking you differently; No need to over analyze everything. Letting him lead was the smartest thing. The only way, really.

“Yeah,” Your voice makes you hesitate to say anything more. “Just got stuck staring…”

Ghost doesn’t show any real reaction. Just nods, and grabs his rucksack off the floor next to him. Wordlessly taking yours along in the same hand, walking off with -essentially- everything you had. Suddenly motivating you to not only move your ass off the plane, but follow his long strides to wherever it was he was possessed to go. And whether or not the others even noticed, you didn’t have the luxury of worrying about.

The Lieutenant had your weapons… and your only clean pair of pants.

You didn’t have to follow him far though. Only walking a few meters past your own quarters and down a hallway. Staring at the wide gap between his shoulder blades and the heavy sway that rocked the belt clipped around his hips.

He had your bag tossed next to his on a desktop inside his room without a single trace of the fact it wasn’t a habit. Sitting down heavily and reaching over stiffly to tug at the laces of his boots. Toeing them off with small squeaks of new leather and sitting them under the desk. Either purposefully staying silent to listen to your brain working, or totally unaware that you were stupidly standing there, watching your Lieutenant do a decidedly human thing with wide eyes.

“Come’ere…”

Ghost took off your boots just as simply as his own. Quiet, leaned over your foot propped up on his thigh and not even mentioning your hand resting on his shoulder to steady yourself. Feeling him tug the blouse out of your pant legs, and gently squeeze at your ankle to hold your foot steady.

You didn’t know how to feel about it.

Mortified… maybe. For the simple fact that you had worn the same socks for two days and his head was too close for comfort. Touching you. At least, touching you in a way that wasn’t meant for sex. It didn’t feel like you were doing enough. Weren’t providing him anything.

Guilty… yes? This wasn’t something normal in any situation. You hated a return. It’s what made you feel like you were causing a problem. Made laying low and staying quiet a habitual behavior. And Ghost being the one bent over and struggling to undo the tight knots in your laces? Nearly unacceptable. He didn’t need to… shouldn’t lower himself like that.

Ghost noticed it and you tried to beat him to the punch.

“You don’t have to-”

“Look like you’re gonna faint.”

That hand squeezing softly on your ankle tightens a little before releasing, gliding up your calf and patting you softly before guiding it off his leg. Those dark eyes look up and down your clothes, over your decidedly nervous expression, and back down to your boots before sitting them right next to his.

“Don’t tell me…” he mutters, leaning back in his chair, hands resting on his hips. “You’re not a fan of receiving… are you?”

~

The next two days, you leaned quickly that what was his, suddenly had made room to account for you as well. Almost instantaneously you’d been accounted for in just about every single way you could think of. You washed laundry… you found it put away in one of his drawers. You ordered food to base… it was in his room, not yours. Tried to get into your old quarters… the key wouldn’t open it anymore.

How he’d managed it, you didn’t even want to know. But, Ghost effortlessly took into account every single thing necessary to move you into his life without even a single question. And managed to do it perfectly. You couldn’t question it either, since he’d accomplished the endless tasks to such a degree of attention that you weren’t sure a man could even reach.

“Um, have you seen my black jeans?” The question felt a bit odd, and so did standing in the doorframe of his bathroom with a towel wrapped around you.

“Top drawer. In the closet, next to my pants.”

You couldn’t quite adjust this easily. Not that it wasn’t what you wanted per se. You’d enjoyed Ghost’s company more than anyone else the past couple days. And while he’d been accommodating, it wasn’t like he was bowing to your feet. He came and go as he wanted and didn’t crowd you like he was clingy either. However he did make you feel uneasy with how little he made a fuss about doing something for you.

You never asked for him to do anything. Yet he managed to do everything you ‘hadn’t gotten around to’. And worst of all, when it was time to sleep, he wouldn’t lay down until you eventually caved in and crawled under the blankets first. Almost like he was letting you get settled exactly how you wanted before even thinking about moving closer. No sex. No outward attempt at it. Not even a subliminal hint that he wanted more of your mouth, or anything else for that matter.

It nearly broke you. Or, better spoken, broke your perception of how you expected him to act. Which, made sense considering Ghost wasn’t anything close to the men you’d been with previously. They were always pushy… and he didn’t even push you to your side of the bed when you unconsciously wormed your way to his side at night. Your exes treated sex like a favor needing to be owed. And Ghost wouldn’t begin to act like he’d ever thought about the possibility despite having fucked your throat like he owned it.

Your jeans were indeed in the drawer next to his. And he did ask you to grab a pair of his as you retrieved yours, adding on that you’d be leaving in fifteen minutes… unless you needed more time to get ready.

You finished up in less than ten.

A bar on a Saturday night was Soap’s idea. Drinks, a few cigars, and the whole task force was his way of ‘team bonding’ and no one had a good enough excuse to deny him. Especially when there was a new mission lingering in the next couple weeks, and Price already had the files on hand. You thought it was a bit cliché. Sitting in a musty bar, listening to Price talk over the music about terrain, entry points, possible back-up, and the preemptive teams he was putting together.

It seemed his mind had been working just as hard as yours over the past days. Only you were preoccupied with Ghost’s hand firmly kneading at your thigh under the table. His thumb working at a sore spot just up and to the right of your knee. Forefinger squeezing to alternate the pressure and resist from making the movements feel too harsh. Looking far too relaxed while scanning a document and flipping through the pages with his free hand.

You’d resisted for hours at this point. Forcing yourself to stay quiet and not say something about it. Reminding yourself he was just doing it because he wanted to. Not because he thought he’d get something out of it. He wasn’t holding out. Every time his skilled fingers found another sore spot that made you twitch, you needed to physically clamp your mouth shut or take a drink so you didn’t tell him to stop.

“Another round?” Gaz held up a few bills in his hand, looking around the table.

When everyone agreed, you lost the willpower to sit still. Straightening up and trying to scoot towards the edge of your seat.

“I’ll go up since you’re paying.” The rush in your voice was lost on everyone. Everyone but the man who suddenly locked down with a vice grip on your leg.

Ghost didn’t even flinch. Still looking at the file in his hand, but that cold grip on you didn’t hesitate. Gluing you to your seat and enhancing the sudden sensation of his fingertips dipping under the ripped material stretching over your thigh. You couldn’t understand it. Dumbly trying a second time to stand up, only for it to earn you a side-eyed glance and a slight pinch to your exposed skin.

“No.” he muttered, chin jutting out in the direction of the man, already heading towards the table after seeing Gaz pull out cash .“The waiter’s comin’.”

And right on cue, a younger guy walked up and began taking orders. Going around the table, and stopping at Ghost was a very familiar kind of apprehension on his face after seeing that black mask stretched over his face. If only he could see under the table at the way your thigh was shaking from the soft touches.

“Nothin’ for us,” Such a cool dismissal of the guy that you hardly even notice what he said. “Price, leavin’ out.” He added, moving his hand to palm the back of your neck easily. Giving the slightest tug to get you up out of your seat as well.

“Little one’s comin’ with me.”

Not a soul at the table questions it.

~

Against the wall yet again.

Not unlike the first time… Ghost has a pattern. You’re breathless, but much more unaware of how this situation is going to play out. He hadn’t said a word in the drive, and kept the tightest sightline out the windshield you couldn’t even see his irises from your profile view in the passenger seat. The second he could spot the door to his room? His big body bullied yours right where he wanted it. Keeping you pacified by a hand over your mouth and dark, plotting eyes glaring down.

“Why’d you do that?” His question further raised the questions in your head. It’s all you can do to shrug, as if you had much autonomy over the rest of your body at this point anyways.

“At the bar,” The clarification deepens his irritated tone. “Why’d you take orders like that, huh? Like some fuckin’ maid.”

“You all wanted drinks.”

Unfortunately it’s not the answer he wanted, and you’re hauled that much further up the wall. Only now, you’re suspended fully off the ground. Balanced on his forearm jammed between your thighs; feeling his palm flat against the wall. God, it felt fucking ridiculous. He shouldn’t been able to do it, but he wasn’t even shaking. Dead calm and just watching you unintentionally grind down more on his arm the longer you’re forced to stay like that.

“I got my own.”

You nearly catch an attitude. Wanting to mention that it’s just ‘polite’. And for that matter, you’d not paired for a single drink all night. So, naturally it was only fair you go get them… You settle on saying something a bit more safe. Maybe more manageable even with how little your mouth wants to function.

“I didn’t pay.”

Ghost just snarls, head tilted and looming closer.

“I don’t fuckin’ care,” His hips flinch forwards, jamming against you to send the point home. And you’re not stupid enough to ignore that he’s hard. The long, thick line of his cock disappearing under the edge of his belt; tucked safely to have been able to escape the bar without anyone throwing looks his way.

“Stop doin’ shit just because.” He growls out a bit more directly. “Do it because you want it.”

His point skims over your understanding. “I do what I want!”

“Sure, sweetheart.” The dismissal is soft enough you know he’s not totally pissed.

“When’s the last time you made yourself feel good, huh?” He pauses, giving you a glimpse of his tongue licking his lips under that mask. “I think I remember you sayin’ you’ve faked it plenty of times… How many times is that? How many times you ignored that pussy cryin’ for attention?”

You get it. Oh, you finally understand… And damn it your face doesn’t burn hot with the realization that he’d caught on to just how bad you were about prioritizing yourself. Not even the dull, thudding pressure of your cunt sitting directly in his muscled forearm is enough to distract you from it. The mind game over, and Ghost holding yet another victory in his hand.

“I.. I don’t know,” You look away, unwilling to admit it. “A few times.”

“Bullshit,” He grunts, jerking his lower body against yours yet again. “You might not know that… but you do know how many men… don’t ya, sweetheart?”

Chest caving in defeat, you answer. “Five.”

Ghost’s chuckle is almost patronizing. A deep, rumbling one low in his chest that makes chills run up your back. Purposefully his wrist rotates a bit and your clit rolls over a thick muscle. You’re helpless to hide the pinched yelp it earns him, and it only makes him chuckle for longer. If you’d been in any other position, it would’ve been music to your ears. Now it just felt… punishing. Arousing beyond belief, yes, but still a bit of a sting to your pride.

“Five boys…” He muses aloud. “Not a fuckin’ one with enough sense to breathe without thinkin’.”

He stills for a moment, eyebrows furrowing over dark brown eyes. A debate in his head.

“Then i’ll teach you…” He nods once. Firm and resolved to the decision. His free hand coming up to trace your jawline with a reverent, almost scared touch. “Now that you’re mine… I’ll teach you how to be selfish.”

“S’not like I don’t know how.” It’s a wonder you’re able to sound that confident between the pressure to your cunt and the way he’s talking to you. Unflinching as always, he just smirks under that mask.

“Gonna show you how easy it is… to take pleasure. How to enjoy it.” Each word falls from his lips like thick honey. Whatever he’s planning so fucking rich in his kind that even his mouth slows and his accent thickens at the mere imagination of it. “You’re gonna learn to be good for me… and M’gonna start with that little pussy…”

One dangerous look down at where your thighs are trying to clench together freezes you.

“Not gonna let her be ignored anymore…”

~

Ghost’s tongue curls through your swollen, sensitive, lips; helping guide himself to your pulsing clit. Humming victoriously when your stomach flexes and your body jerks away from the steady pressure. Each lick is the same. Dragging up your slit and purposely spitting against your hole until you both can feel it dripping between your cheeks. Taking his time like this was almost painful. Feeling the twitch of his jaw against your inner thighs and hearing his thick swallows as he drank down your arousal.

It almost made you feel queasy, being the sole focus of this. Your hands unable to find somewhere to rest. Feet unwilling to settle on his back or off to the sides, like you knew you probably should be. Ghost was so intense that you shook. Muscles tremoring around his head and exciting him that much more. You were still stiff though, and it showed. Much to his excitement, it meant that he’d have that much more time between your legs. More opportunities to take you out of your head and throw you into a totally new one.

“It ain’t my mouth makin’ you shake, little one.” He murmurs, almost like he’s talking to your cunt instead. It’s hard to reply when those dark brown eyes lay locked on you from between your slicked thighs.

“I… I don’t know…”

Ghost just chuckles, kissing your inner thigh. Both hands slipping between your legs and using his thumbs to spread you open for him. Heavy eyes looking at your glistening hole covered in his saliva. Spitting on you yet again, and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh when your breath evaporates from the sheer sight of it.

“M’gonna make you feel everythin’ they couldn’t,” your eyes nearly roll back in your skull when he blows a soft, cool, breath over your hot skin. “You’ll memorize what my tongue feels like in your cunt… never gonna come empty again…”

You clench when those words come out more like a threat than a promise. Having heard that tone so many times sitting in on his interrogations. Always relating it to pure torture and the promise of wishing for death over being rested in Ghost’s hands. Only now it was startling just how badly you wanted to hear him speak like that again. Never having heard anyone sound so fucking serious about sex, or find yourself reacting so desperately. Your eyes scrunching shut and your head falling back against the bed, nearly pained with anticipation and a healthy dose of the most fearful arousal you’d mustered.

“Ghost - please, please… just, god take it easy on me.” Your voice is soft, pleading. Actually a bit timid of how far he planned on taking this. Of course he wouldn’t hurt you. You trusted him that much. But pleasure could be just as effective of torture, and Ghost was well-versed.

Another kiss presses to your thigh, “Nothin’ without your permission,” Those dark eyes gain crinkled lines at the corners though as he smiles. “But you’ll like it, little one. Every disgustin’ thing m’gonna do to make this pussy cream…”

His thumb glides over your outer lips, toying with you. Gentle to avoid sensitive spots and draw this out, but mean enough to remind you just how dedicated he was.

“Yeah, baby… you’re gonna look so good when I lick the fuckin’ come out of you.”

His mouth descends over you without another moment of hesitation. Still slow, but now it’s not just his tongue lapping at you. It’s his lips, rough with a couple days neglected of shaving. His teeth -which make you jump at first- pinching and nipping. But it’s all in the perfect pressure. Somehow fully aware of how sensitive you are right now and that the slightest move could be far too much. Reversing your twitches of apprehension into soft rolls of your hips against his face. Allowing you to guide him without a word. Learning how you want it whether or not you ever realized that it was guiding him better than a map.

You loved the slow, consistent pressure around your clit. Not rubbing right over it like he was sure you’d been subjected to before. No… you needed it softer. Sweeter. Just how a pretty girl like you deserved. Circles with a flattened tongue and his fingers working inside you. Even then, you got so fucking tight when he didn’t pull his fingers out all the way. Instead letting you milk them as the pads of his fingers curled against that textured, upper wall needing attention.

God, it was so easy. You had such beautifully clear reactions. What felt good, you’d nearly hold still for. As if you’d never felt it before and couldn’t withhold from the desperate curiosity. And when it didn’t, such polite grinds and roll of your hips would be almost too helpful in moving the bridge of his nose or his tongue to where you wanted it.

Ghost couldn’t remember the last time he ate pussy with such rapt attention. Enjoy it had always been easy. The taste, the sounds, feeling in control… any man in his right mind would relish in it. But you? You made his hard cock brushing up against the mattress fall to a true afterthought. He didn’t even care that there was enough precum drooling from his tip to soak through denim jeans.

Your first orgasm is a beautiful accident. Ghost’s body isn’t even what earns it. It’s his fucking mouth saying the nastiest things imaginable with a busy tongue stroking your clit. Rambling low and sluggishly, a thick lisp when his bottom lip tries to slide across your pussy on the right syllables.

Good job, tha’s it… s’good for me.

Keep fuckin’ drippin’ like that.

Stay right there -just like that- let me lick her clean baby…

You come quick and hard. Not even getting to relish in the feeling of release that wasn’t by your own hand before Ghost is working for another. It’s the most impatient habit he’s got and won’t deviate. Using the clench of your pussy around him to advantage by working you open all over again. Purposefully providing that “first touch” stretch throughout orgasms like a reset. Short term memory erasure of all his hard work just to massage at your shaking legs as gentle reassurance.

“Don’t — Don’t stop.” Your panting. Wanting to warn him as the second approaches a bit slower.

You’re still nervous to perform, but the edge is off. Having been given just enough reassurance that you can, in fact, come from someone else’s touch. But the slight tremor in your voice hints at the hesitation you have to come again.

Enough time elapsed to overthink what you sound like. How you appear from this angle and anything in between that has been a problem before now. Ghost doesn’t move an inch. The only thing he does is take a steady deep breath and move one arm to rest his forearm on the bed. Like he’s settling in.

Getting fucking comfortable.

And he stays just like that until you’re shoving yourself up the bed and away from his chasing mouth to try and take at least one complete breath. Your feet sliding in the sheets and the hair on the back of your neck getting cold once it’s not matted to the pillow. Previous experience anticipates that it’s the end. That Ghost isn’t going to follow. That he’ll take the credit for making you come twice, and enjoy a fluttering, wet cunt around his cock.

His face is next to yours and his swollen lips are kissing your temple over and over sweetly. One hand keeps his heavy weight off of you while the other gently reaches to your neck. Holding your head to ease the acute angle of it and shyly feel your pulse. You’re too dazed to see the look on his face. How relaxed he is, counting your heart beats and watching sweat slide across your temple and get caught in the baby hairs there. Observant, but utterly obsessed by this moment. Drinking in self-satisfaction and the much more addictive taste of seeing you fall apart under him.

“I got you. I’m here, breathe baby.” Keeping his chest close, he exaggerates his own. Pressing against you, grounding the feeling.

“It’s so much.” Admitting it makes you feel awful. Like you’re not enjoying it more than anything you’ve felt before. But you’re unable to explain just how raw your nerves feel. Terrified that if he touches your clit again it would bring real tears to your eyes.

Ghost moves closer, sharing body heat you didn’t know you even wanted. “I know, little one… you’re so sensitive. S’okay.” He answers, gently reaching down to pull both your thighs together and against him.

Curling you to his body and holding your legs to help ease the radiating pleasure signals thrumming in your pussy. His hand rubbing your outer thigh, squeezing at the stretched muscles in your hip. Dissipating the tightly-wound lower half of your body that is still expecting his fingers to touch you again. Split between wishing he would force another orgasm out of you and nearly passing out from overstimulation.

Ghost knows better though. You’d gone too long without someone else controlling your pleasure that it was going to be hard enough. And a second only compounded your body’s response. In the moment he felt possessed to prove a point. Really, the same one you had for him. But the moment you scurried back, that part of his brain turned off. Keeping you safe in this state was just as important as anything else. He didn’t want you faking anything again. That included when you felt like you couldn’t take more.

“We’re done, baby…” he kisses your cheek, tasting the sting of salt on his lips. “No more; jus’ easy touches… M’not gonna play anymore.”

It works wonders, simply taking the guesswork out of this. Allowing your legs to fully sag against him, trusting those fingers grazing up and down. Even your head letting go of the remaining tension holding you off the pillow. Ghost can’t help but smile. Kissing you yet again. And again. Helping himself to the sounds of your breaths evening out and the softness of your dewy skin on his mouth.

His hot body sticks to yours a bit, but it’s comfortable. Helps you feel secure, laying there balled up and trying to work through the multiple sensations still making it nearly impossible to open you eyes and look at him. Desiring to say a simple ‘thank you’ or at least, give him a smile just to show that you’re appreciative. Another one of those nasty little things you’re convinced is necessary right after the deed. Poised to give positive reinforcement at the first moment so the guy won’t run off.

“Th-thank you,” The way you say it almost sounds guilty to Ghost. Even the hand rubbing you doubles down, more firmly. Like he’s hoping to keep his own emotions in check by reminding himself of how skewed your perceptions are.

“S’not a ‘thank you’,” He replies, lips against your ear, feeling the easy, toothless, smile he’s got. “Told you the other day… I wanted it. Wanted you.”

Your eyes do open then. Hearing him refer back to the mission. Like he’s not the least bit affected by it in an embarrassed kind of way. Adding that much more reinforcement to the nearly unbelievable idea that he’s actually meant it and not just so he could get a bit closer to you. Surely he couldn’t, right?

“You mean that?”

Ghost’s eyes brighten, and he chuckles very deeply. Bumping his forehead against yours.

“You and your sweet pussy aren’t going anywhere.”

requests are thanks to: bvxygriimes bobochacha kmcmpmd simonsslvt verynastyspoon featherbrainedangel flower-olive riri-is-a-girlie bii-aan-ckaa mxshpitmom stormy-knight134 glocuseguardian3rd variety-fangirl and about eight anons that I can't tag unfortunately :(

you're all so lovely and I want to give you each a big smooch

reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3

my ask box is always open, but fair warning I'm slow haha

[welcometololaland]

10 things - 2024/2025 edition

happy new year, everyone! 2024 has been a year of change for me in so many different ways, and i've posted very little fic this year, mostly due to writers' block and time constraints. so, instead of doing the writing round up i thought i'd list 10 things i'm grateful for in 2024 (fandom edition) and 10 things i want to do in 2025 (also, fandom edition). please feel free to make your own if you wish! consider this an open tag 🏷️

2024 - things i'm grateful for (in fandom, in no particular order)

1. my ride or die friends who deal with my self doubt and breakdowns and (being 100% real) paranoia about situations that simply don't exist - @rmd-writes @celeritas2997 , the popcorn squad and others. wouldn't be writing without your support!

2. the writers who have trusted me to beta for them - @heartstringsduet @basilsunrise @rmd-writes i think i'm forgetting some (so sorry if so). michelle, being with you through first aid was such an amazing experience, and i feel so lucky to have seen you develop as a writer!

3. the people who have read my fics and encouraged me including the wip wednesday and seven sentence sunday tags! - i literally would not be anywhere without you. you actually give me life.

4. the friendships i've made on discord with people who just wanna know me for me and share little snippets of their lives - @reyesstrand and @heartstringsduet the little squirrel photos y'all send me are soul soothers for real! @st-elle-ar and @clottedcreamfudge and @lightningboltreader and @birdclowns for the cat pics! @howtosingit for your commentary and spoiler services 💜

5. the grace given to me by @carlos-in-glasses and @actual-sleeping-beauty - you two are so kind and encouraging and tell me all about your knitting projects even when i go missing for weeks on end. thank you for being my friends <3 and i don't even think you guys know you are both my yarn obsessed friends but you ARE.

6. everyone who has trusted me enough to collab with them on projects - the legends on never the same twice, @rmd-writes @strandnreyes. i loved working with you and i hope you had a positive experience! looking forward to more collabs in 2025.

7. the document gremlins, betas and sensitivity readers i've collected this year - @rmd-writes @strandnreyes @lightningboltreader @celeritas2997 @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut ty ty ty ty some of those fics were in danger of being lost forever but we revived them!

8. @she-walked-away for making me laugh with your hilarious posts and olympia2997 who apparently doesn't exist on tumblr but leaves the most unhinged comments of all time on my fics.

9. everyone who has translated my fics or made art or gifs this year! inspired by you and in awe of you! @donghaian @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @guardian-angle22 i know there are more i'm so sorry if i've not listed you here!!!

10. everyone in the various fandoms i'm in who have created brilliant works in 2024! i am inspired by your work more than you know <3

2025 - things i want to do (in fandom, in no particular order)

1. read more, and read more broadly. expand my horizons a bit. read things that are a touch outside my go-to zones just to test the waters. read stuff by new authors!

2. spend time co-writing because that's actually my favourite thing to do. i have some things in the pipeline with a couple of people which i hope work out!

3. finish. the. damn. fic. (eurotrip). IT'S SO FREAKING CLOSE.

4. spend more time with my 2019-2021 beloveds - alex and henry. write more rwrb fic. engage in the fandom a bit more.

5. finish the ring-in 2.0 within 1 month of the LS finale (weep).

6. take one hand off the wheel with fandom relationships - my therapist tells me i need to stop trying to control how everyone feels about me and instead let people show me the kind of friendship they're interested in maintaining. scary because i think i may lose some people along the way but OH WELL WE BALL.

7. worry less about the engagement! god! i need to stop looking so much! *shakes fist at self*

8. write a little more regularly with less word count expectations.

9. learn how to be okay with smaller comments (from myself). sometimes i feel terrible if i don't write a damn essay but sometimes it stops me from reading which is horrible!

10. be a better fandom contributor than i was in 2024 - i think continuous growth is important and i'm always open to feedback (as long as it's constructive and genuine)! my mission is to always make a positive contribution and to make people feel good about themselves, and if i can even do that for one person in 2025, i think i will achieve this goal.

ty for the 2024 wrapped tags @hippolotamus @rmd-writes @reyesstrand @emsprovisions @nancys-braids @carlos-in-glasses @lemonlyman-dotcom @alrightbuckaroo @strandnreyes @thisbuildinghasfeelings @whatsintheboxmh @heartstringsduet @firenati0n @cha-melodius. you are real ones! consider this a tag back if you would like to do a 2024/2025 10 things edition.

[vixensbrainrotts]

Committed to you - Manjiro >Mikey< Sano

(part two)

Idea/ prompt: Mikey from the last timeline who wants to propose to us but has no idea how to ask so he ask advices from draken and emma

Vixen's two cents: Hi. I know ive been gone for like 2 weeks, I dont know why but it's been hard writing lately. anyway, thanks a million to @anahryal for giving me this idea whilst I was in the pits of my writers block!!! thanks girl, I can't tell you how much this helped. anyway, REQUESTS ARE OPEN and I advise you to use them! now please enjoy my revival piece!

Mikey has thought every possible thought he could have. He had run through every possible situation, every possible outcome, every possible setting, but damnit why was this so hard? He couldn’t do it. Not for the life of him.

He had browsed millions of travel blogs, pondering about every possible spot on earth to take you for the occasion. He had woken in and out of more jewelry stores in the past month than he had ever in his entire life. He had specifically stood in corner stores, reading the wedding catalogues in the magazine section trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do.

None of it helped.

Manjiro wanted it so bad. So so very bad. Every white dress he walked by, he envisioned you in it. Every bakery shop he passed, his eyes flitted up and down the fancy display cakes, pondering whether or not it would be good enough. Any time he woke up next to you, every time he joined you in the shower, every time he watched you cook, the urge to sink to one knee overtook him.

He knew he couldn’t make it that simple though. It was too domestic for him, so little of a gesture. He wanted you to know that he loved you, that he would bring you the moon if you wanted it. He needed you to see just how much he appreciates you for sticking with him through everything, and for that he needs a grand gesture.

However it seemed that nothing he could think of was quite big enough, quite meaningful enough, quite heartfelt enough. He was at the end of his wits. For one and a half months- seven weeks he had been fighting this battle alone.

He had made some progress in that time, having picked the ring because when he picked it up he just felt that this was the one. It was a niche store, and he was initially appalled by the average price of the rings, but decided, ah what the fuck? and entered the store for mostly shits and giggles. He was greeted by an expensive looking elderly gentleman who donned a monocle and silk gloves, clearly the clerk, and clearly an expert. He had the longest, most engaging talk with the man, explaining his situation and his frustrations, to which the man nodded understandingly and told of his own story and experience with marigge.

Seven long weeks he had kept it a secret from everyone, and now he couldn’t take it anymore.

He was just about to throw the towel on this whole thing and say fuck it and give up on this whole marriage thing and just accept that he would never make it, when he remembered that he didnt have to be alone in this. Not at all matter of fact. His best friend married his sister after all. If Ken could do it with the pressure of Shinichiro, Izana AND Mikey breathing down his neck, then surely he could do it too, right?

You were out on a girls night with Hinata, Senju and Yuzuha. Emma would have tagged along normally too, but with the addition of a new-born baby, she decided that it would be best to sit out this time. Either way you were out of the house for the night, and Mikey was left to his own devices. You had left him with a kiss and a home-cooked meal (which he felt bad about leaving behind so he completely stuffed himself before coming here) before he gave Ken a quick heads up over the phone that he was coming over with a VERY important problem.

Thats how he found himself here. Standing in the Kitchen of Emma and Ken‘s flat, hands perched on the counter, looking down at the surface, face in a deep frown. „What’s goin on? What’s the problem?“ Ken asks roughly, leaned on the refrigerator as he eyed his friend. Mikey didnt really respond though.

„What problem?“ Emma‘s voice was hushed as she entered through the kitchen door, pulling the door shut behind her, probably for the sake of the baby. „I dont know.“ Ken responded, rubbing his eyebrows „Ask your brother.“ he sighed as he gestured to Mikey who was still staring down the counter.

“Mikey?!” Emma sounded confused and a little concerned as she turned to look at him, eyes flitting between her brother and her husband. “Did you know he was coming over?”

Ken nodded wordlessly. “Said he needs our help about something.” Emma’s head tilted in question but accepted the fact. “What’s up Mikey?” She asked, approaching him and joining Draken at the other side of the counter.

Mikey didn’t say anything though, instead reaching into his pocket and producing a small, black, silk-encased box. He dropped it onto the table and looked up at the couple in desperation. “How do I do it?”

Ken gasped and felt his lips tug into a smile, happy that finally, finally Mikey was wiping you up (he had told him to do so since they were teens).

Emma slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle a silent scream, beginning to voice up and down on excitement as she realized- her brother was marrying you! She thanked the gods that Mikey fell in love with you because there was no better in-law than her Soulsister.

“Ahhhhh! Oh my goodness Mikey! I’m so happy for you! Can I see? Wow! Oh my god Ken are you seeing this!? He’s proposing! Ah I’m so glad!” Mikey nodded in response and let Emma pick up the box and crack it open, revealing the beautiful white-gold wedding band, encrusted with more diamonds than she could count. Notably, one large diamond sat in the middle of the ring, flanked by two smaller diamonds on each side.

“Oh.” Emma breathed. “Ken why didn’t you ask Manjiro for help when picking my ring?” Emma sounded slightly offended as she spoke, glaring down at the ring.

“Nah nah, don’t get it twisted girl. You told me what ring you wanted, I didn’t have much picking liberty other than the price.” Ken waved his hands in dismissal, brushing off her accusations with a grin still wide on his face. He made his way over to Mikey and clapped a hand on his shoulder, congratulating him for the occasion.

“Good on you man! Finally givin it the push, hah?” Ken was smiling as he searched for Mikey’s eyes, but he didn’t look up. “What’s up with the long face? You’re about to propose dude, you should be over the moon!”

Mikey sighed and shook his head. “I’ve been trying to propose to her for months. Months Ken. I can’t do it. It’s never right.”

The couple halted their celebrations and turned to look at Mikey again, Emma putting down the dainty box as her looks turns to one of concern. “What do you mean?” She fingered at the box as she leaned across the counter.

“It’s… i don’t know. Ken made it look so easy when he proposed to you, and Pah-chin was even more mindless about it! I really want to. I really do, but every time I get close, I chicken out because I get scared or because something isn’t right, and I’m starting to think that it’s better if I just… don’t.” Mikey sighed and cradled his head in his hands, his elbows resting on the counter.

Emma and Ken shared a look, a wordless exchange of worry and empathy. "What kind of proposal were you thinking of? Big? Small? Public? Private?" Emma started, hand rubbing soothingly across her brother's back.

"Big." Mikey mumbled into his hands, remaining hunched over the counter. "Big and public. I wanna make sure that everyone knows, everyone sees, I want them all to know. want them to know how much I love her."

Emma's eyes softened and she suppressed a smile, because all in all, it was cute. She had always known her brother to be big and strong, undefeatable, and most of all unwaverable. Mikey always put up the strong front when really, he was hurt. Vulnerability wasn't something that she was used to seeing from him, which made this moment all the more special.

"Do you want to go somewhere with her?" Ken steps in and asks, an idea arising. Mikey only grunts, a noise of agreement sounding through the room. "Do you know what kind of places she likes?" Ken continues.

Mikey's head slowly raises from the position on the table and he stares forward at the refrigerator. "Europe."

Emma and Ken looked at one another again, sensing that they were getting somewhere. "Then take her on Vacation. You both have that long shared break coming up, don't you? Travel through Europe and when it feels right, ask!" Ken said.

"How do I know when it feels right, though? What if it's not the moment?" Mikey asks, still not entirely convinced. "You'll know. I promise you, you'll know. I knew too and I didn't think I had the stuff to ever get married." Ken reassures again, and this time the two share eye contact, and it takes Draken a lot not to tear up.

Draken took a moment in his mind to look at Mikey. He had stuck by his side since they were kids, through thick and thin it's always been the two if them against the world. And now as he looked at Manjiro he no longer saw the unmatchable delinquent he saw ten years ago, but rather a distinguished person with complex thoughts and emotions. He saw a man that felt, a man that cared and a man that loved in front of him, and he couldn't be prouder.

Ken nodded at Mikey, and Mikey nodded back at him. "Yeah. She'll love it! Thanks, I'll do that! Gosh I don't know what id do without you two.."

"Oh, please propose to her in front of the Eifel Tower! Or the Coliseum! Or on some romantic Bridge in Venice!" Emma swooned and held her hands over her chest, hearts in her eyes.

Mikey smiled at her and nodded again. "I'll try and film it if I can."

-

The rest of the evening was spent with the three of them checking about a thousand booking sites, mapping travel routes and destinations, and the occasional cacophony of laughter which led to a grumpy Ryuguji-baby. Manjiro couldn't wait to go with you, he thought as he sat on one of the armchairs, gently running a thumb over the silk box that sat pretty in his hand.

[randomfoggytiger]

React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (My Struggle II), Part VIII

TLDR: Mulder's passenger princess episode.

AGENDA GOING IN

Okay. 

We’re back.  

It’s been awhile (five months) since the last update-- how time flies~. 

My thoughts going in: please, enjoy my suffering. Know that these are the rantings of a mad man and don't take anything to heart. Come, let us all gather to loathe (with snacks, of course) this bloated behemoth that chased its own tail right up into its internal organs.

**Note**: All previous parts can be found under the Revival Reviler's first-time watch through and A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try tags; and all my previously documented react projects are easily accessible under the React tag. 

MY STRUGGLE II

Welp, it’s time to press play. 

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII didn’t miss this. At all. 

Oh, thanks for the succinct summary of My Struggle I-- you forgot to include the fact that Mulder hadn’t had a breakdown or disconnect from reality, that Scully left him fearing he would, and that she waited in the wings waiting for him to have a breakdown for x amount of months or years. And that she’s jealous of a young blonde woman who she effectively stabbed with a medical instrument when that woman as A. in her care and B. afraid for her life and trying to prove her innocence. And that Mulder already knew the world wouldn’t end right before or right after Colonization… so his breakdown (which he didn’t have) wasn’t connected to Colonization not happening. 

And also that he and Scully are and aren’t and will and won’t get together. 

And that she was nearly seduced by an Alex Jones type figure. 

Just wanted to remind myself of aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall the garbage I had to weed through in a previous post here. Sigh. 

LET CSM DIE. 

You can’t just have Scully start narrating-- well, CC can because My Struggle I was Mulder’s Struggle, and My Struggle II is Scully’s, as he said-- and show me all these cool moments and then… bring us back to present. 

Why would you do this to my poor, woe-be-gone soul? 

Also… most of the pictures we're shown make no sense because those were from private, no-camera-in-sight interludes between Mulder and Scully. Were there no pictures from interviews, or before Congress, or from identification photos, or on crime scenes (i.e. the one from The End) for the writers to grab, or…? YES this is a nitpick, yes I’m petty, yes this is only 2 minutes in. 

I will say: this is the most recognizable "Scully" voice yet-- Gillian is tapping into that dreamlike, detached, floating accent that her character of yore used to narrate with. …And to know the camera is going to switch over to her off-brand Scully hair and off-brand X-Files story is… not great. 

“Abducted from my home by unknown assailants--” MA’AM, even the FLASHBACK PHOTOS show Duane Barry. YOU KNEW HE WAS THE ONE KIDNAPPING YOU AT THE TIME, NOT THAT THE GOVERNMENT WAS BEHIND IT. PLEASE, I’m barely three minutes in, spare me. 

“Tests [that she was subjected to] that I now suspect are part of a larger conspiracy--” MA’AM. Only now?Pleaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase. 

“Questions remain… about their motives and final objectives.” Um… for a secret cabal focused on “consolidating” power “at home” and “across the globe”... I think, don’t quote me on this, but I think YOU GOT YOUR MOTIVE RIGHT THERE.

...Yeah. Um. Guess alien blinks sound like camera shutters.

THIS IS THE END says the title card. 'Kay.

Oh, so we're focusing on Scully this episode. Mulder's not in the basement (or will be found? in the basement?) ...Does this parallel My Struggle III when Mulder finds Scully in a coma on the basement floor? Is that in MSIII?

That's it, I'm putting this on 1.75 speed.

Okay, six weeks have passed since My Struggle I. ...You know, what is a reasonable timeline? What is canon? What is anything, really?

Go AWAY Tad O'Malley. "What may seem like science fiction is now scientific facts" UGH.

...What's with the strange up-close, snap out, and float in dramatic angles? ...I know it's for the updated show, but sometimes it's too... it's too.... Goofy. There, I said it. It's goofy. They're wasted on inconsequential moments to build artificial tension. Those effects should be saved for times when it matters, not "Character A walks in, sits down, listens to under 30 seconds of alien DNA stuff, ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM, SWOOSH, WHOOSH, PHONE CALL, floooooooooat iiiiiiiiiin."

Ugh.

FURTHER PROOF THAT SEASON 10 HAD THE WORST MAKEUP:

This, this, THIS is Gillian's up-close shot? THIS?? Crust between her eyebrows creating an almost unibrow??? Cracking under her right eye???? Green poking through her concealer????? Cakey, pasty vinyl on her cheeks?????? Is she molting?????????

Compare to Milagro and you'll see that OH, WOW, the above is bad.

This plot is so mind-numbingly convenient:

Scully shows up at the office, Mulder's not there.

Scully sits down because Mulder's device is playing Tad out loud.

Just as she reaches the pertinent part, Tad calls (not because he's a weirdo who was waiting for his show to reach that beat, noooooo, just because he needed to call her, of course.)

Tad needs to talk.

Scully drives to Mulder's house where Tad is: her partner's missing: he had a meeting with Tad there and never showed.

Convenient. Just soooooooo convenient. And this one minute of drama all conveniently comes together six weeks after the Revival's first episode. Despite other cases she and Mulder investigated that would require a ton of time to solve and catalog. Uh huh.

This is definitely, absolutely, 100% realistic. Definitely.

Tad talking sense into Scully. Nope, don't like that.

1.75x is the perfect speed for this, it really highlights how random and nonsensical all these actions and passing conveniences are.

Scully doesn't listen, calls police to find Mulder.

Skinner and Einstein are in the office? And she's consulting them? Idon'tcaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare.

"I'm afraid he fears my judgment," says Scully about Mulder not leaving a note. "That I might think he's crazy or not."

...

......

.........

..............

You can't hear it, but I'm sighing away Deep Throat and the Season 4 Max two-parter and Folie a Deux....

Scully.

Writers.

Don't insult me.

Bumping this up to 2x.

"No one has the right or the ability to tamper with your DNA," insists Einstein.

"Unless we gave them that ability."

...What. (Note from the future: That line still doesn't make sense.)

IWTB hospital and first wave of patients (unbeknownst to Scully and Einstein.) Sigh.

Mulder lookin' not too good in his car. Sigh.

I wish I had a 3x opinion.

WHY are we looking at characters through IVF pols and etc. while they deliver (rehashed) important dialogue (again)? Because it's artsy? It's stupid.

I'm not even 10 minutes in.

"The science that we were taught takes us but a distance towards the truth."

Setting that statement aside-- because it contradicts many high and noble monologues from the original series that Scully HERSELF spoke-- Einstein talks with "ums" and snappy, modern lingo while Scully still speaks as she did in the original run: a touch flowery, a touch otherworldly, a touch pastiche or purple prose.

This not only distracts but frustrates because the Revival dialogue flip flops on this distinction constantly: Mulder and Scully sounding like themselves (sometimes too young and too purple-prosy) one second then "updated", modern mouthpieces-- using words like "homey" and "the internet" unironically-- the next.

I'm so... look. Okay, yes, we're going there.

Actually, no, I need to go outside for a bit first, then we're going there.

...I'm back.

So. Let's be super, super honest here: Chris Carter is trying to appeal to a (then) mass, general perspective of his intelligence. He wants to be seen as the smartest genius TM when it comes to discerning "the truth" and seeing through "the lies." He did this more deftly with characters such as Deep Throat, Max Fenig (who Morgan and Wong created, actually), and other like-minded tie-ins to a greater conspiracy. Fox Mulder was the epitome of how to do this concept right: Mulder routinely fought to separate his message from the pencil pushers and the quacks-- those who implied he was "in on it" because he was a Fed (and therefore, a Jew) and those who went too far in their conspiracies while on an earnest hunt to expose the truth (the fringe radicals or not-so-radicals.) Carter even played with conspiracy theorist nuts well with The Lone Gunmen (who were also created by Morgan and Wong), three dudes who felt betrayed by the government but could also trip up over the strip of metallic paper in their $20.

Why did all the aforementioned examples work whereas Tad O'Malley does not? It's not because conspiracy theories were on the rise in 2015-- that just removes any excuse from the writers, who could have studied and cleverly built up on that "phenomenon." And no, it's not because CC secretly likes or encourages those fringe or peripheral thought experiments-- his bent leans the opposite way, which makes this situation even more irritating.)

You cannot have a conspiracy theorist be right about everything. Not only does it hinder your message, it then promotes that vein of thinking: that all counter-culture is probably correct because it chooses to explore what others are too afraid to (Scully) or what the government is suppressing for their own interests. And why is this so... for lack of a better word, idiotic?

Conspiracy theorists are just people like you and me: they're human, and they're often wrong. Their motives might come from a universal place, and they can be right about a few things (broken clock is right twice a day, etc.), but that doesn't mean they're infallible, either.

Tad O'Malley, meanwhile, is proven right over Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. Fox Mulder. And Dana Scully. Again and again.

What the writers were trying to do is point out our own perception bias and highlight our own ignorance, ala Max Fenig. Why they succeeded then-- Max was right enough and wrong enough-- is why they failed now: Tad is right, always, because the plot needed him to be. His irrationality-- believing in chemtrail and microwaves and etc.-- still serves as a truth machine to the people; and he is still painted as a heroic figure bringing hope to the masses in times of crisis.

I know the writers' point: truth and hope can come from the unlikeliest places because we're all human and we all want each other to survive. That's nice. Put it in the script next time.

In short: it's because Carter and his writers, all of them, were lazy. In trying to subvert the new norm-- the rising growth in conspiracy theorists like QAnon or Alex Jones-- and trying to prove how they could take an established trope most of the public disliked and invert it (as he did with UFOs in the 90s), CC fell into an obvious trap: he forgot to make it make sense-- or, worse, didn't see the value in doing so and, thus, didn't care.

And why does this boil down to laziness? Because CC has the next goal to reach, the next car to explode, the next up close shot and lens flare to chase!!!!! HE doesn't have TIME for piddly quibbles!!!! He doesn't have TIME to flesh out what should remain a mystery!!!!!!!! He has to chase the mystery, guys, don't you get it, guys, there's ALIENS out there, guys, but it's NOT aliens it's THE GOVERNMENT, GUYS!!!!!! Aren't I so clever??? YOU THOUGHT IT WAS ALIENS THIS WHOLE TIME BUT IT WAS THE GOVERNMENT, HAHA!!! YOU THOUGHT SCULLY WOULD STAND BY MULDER EVEN IF SHE THOUGHT HE WAS CRAZY, HAHA!!!!! YOU THOUGHT TAD O'MALLEY WAS LIKE ALEX JONES, HAHA!!!!! I FOOLED YOU ALL!!!!!!!!!!!

Laziness. Absolute laziness.

Also: Tad's show is called SQUAD. He and his squad'. I just... wanna die.

Also also: Tad's show sure is getting a lot of press. And do you know why he's getting a lot of press? Because in canon, his show was forcibly shut down by the government.

Hm. Now wouldn't that be a more honest and interesting plot line if the writers wanted to set the show in current-day politics (a show that wasn't about politics to begin with, but I digress)? That Tad might be so wrong that his program became dangerous; and that the government then overstepped their power to suppress those claims and, in effect, gave him a microphone because of that unlawful suppression? And wouldn't it be more complicated if Tad got his hands on valuable information right before everyone became ill, and the public then began to buy into his message because he "predicted" what would happen while the government was divided into two camps: those who were ignorant and those who were effecting global change (i.e. the Syndicate remnant)? Like Kersh and CSM, for example? Y'know, the threads that were established and dropped previously? Wouldn't that fit The X-Files in the modern age, that the government can't get away with outright suppression like it used to? That even those who try to do good can effect evil if they handle it wrongly? Wouldn't that also prove to the audience that Mulder is in a different class than regular conspiracy theory nuts; and that Scully was intelligent enough to clock that he was being duped and save him from swallowing the lie?

Again, absolute laziness.

Also also also, the vaccines are attacking these peoples' immune systems because they've effectively been immunocompromised.

And while that's all maybe scientifically fine and dandy, you've gotta PROVE THAT, CC. Instead, Scully sees one patient-- who she doesn't know is a military vet-- and just. A. assumes he's a vet, B. that he's had a mandatory anthrax vaccine, and C. that it's the vaccine that's killing him because it's suppressing the veterans' immune systems....

Oh by the way, we're TOLD all that because it would be too much work to devote any time to building up to or even proving that assertion, claim, or theory. ...WE HAD A BLUE PRINT IN F. EMASCULATA, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, IT SHOULDN'T BE THIS DIFFICULT.

Scully jumps on a global contagion theory... because... Tad's guest said it would happen. And she jumps on that because... Mulder's gone and also because.... she trusts that he's figured out a similar conspiracy theory. And she jumps on this before waiting for Einstein's DNA results because... there's not enough time (despite doing two time-consuming medical tests later on.)

The writers' intent: to show off Scully's intelligence, to prove she trusts Mulder's instincts and her gut despite her scientific brain shooting those instincts down as conspiracy.

The reality.... she just jumped on a random theory to keep the plot rolling. ...WHY.

Scully... never checked... Mulder's computer... to track... his phone....

And Miller just stumbled across it on Mulder's OPEN LAPTOP.

I'm.

I'm.

LAZINESS. Lazy, lazy, LAZY.

I hate the dialogue in this episode so much:

Characters flip ideas on a whim, seemingly at random because the writers needed to stall the episode's progress.

Characters announce themselves not by name but by, "I was there for you when you needed help [last time]" because the writers needed a "who's that????" for commercials.

Other ugh-ery factors. >:///////

"Agent Scully."

"Agent Reyes. Monica."

Thanks for the unnecessary exposition.

"I wish this were in better circumstances. I wish a lot of things were different here today."

"You have something to tell me?"

"Something you need to know."

...Shut up. This dialogue....

"How long have you been at the FBI?"

SCULLY THIS ISN'T IMPORTANT RIGHT NOW.

Firstly, literally the stupidest explanation for CSM's return.

Secondly, I don't care about this scene or this reintroduced character because Monica goes full-on villain arc later. Here, Gish plays her as someone strong-armed into compromises for the greater good... but since that doesn't last....

Pffffffft, I don't care.

WHY. ARE. THERE. SO. MANY. UP-CLOSE SHOTS. OF. THEIR. FACES. FOR. NO. REASON.

Wait, ALIENS ARE BACK ON THE MENU, BOYS. But they were never evil, oh noooooooooooooo, definitely not. We just used their incredible science for evil and blamed THEM. (Despite those innocents abducting and cutting Mulder open. And turning the Requiem population into super soldiers-- yeah, remember those? You're right-- I don't either. )The truest shame the human race ever did. Tragic.

So, Monica compromised because she wanted to be "one of the chosen"/"one of the elites" to survive.... But tries to frame it as she did it to help? Scully? Who was already "one of the chosen" because her genome was already tampered with during her first ever abduction?

So.

Monica effected nothing, is bound to he CSM forever, and will live.

And... how does that help anyone, exactly?

Honestly. What's her plot. she's just a coward. She did nothing and achieved nothing except get "sealed" and serve CSM smokes.

Lot of unnecessary lingerings on CSM smoking, btw. Could have cut that down so the episode doesn't feel so rough-shod.

"He loves Mulder," blabs Monica. "He sent a man to him to offer him a deal."

Mulder fight montage. ...Okay, fine, nice, you got your punches in, that's okay, fine. But there had BETTER be a reason for this sequence.

I'm waiting--

WAIT, THE GUY'S TRYING TO KILL HIM OR CHOKE HIM OUT, WHAT. CSM SENT HIM OVER TO SAVE MULDER BUT, BUT, WHAT--

Okay, now the fight's becoming too long and silly.

GUN'S OUT??? How is this supposed to SAVE Mulder, again??

More fighting, uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh, I just know this is going to end with a "Wait, wait, I'm here because--" moment....

Even worse: Mulder gets the upper hand, asks, "Who sent you?", and goes to CSM anyway.

THAT WAS A WASTE OF TIME.

I hate, hate, hate the dialogue. "I've always won badminton"/"You never won, I controlled the game in your and my favor before you were born"/"I don't believe my beloved badminton is rigged"/"You don't want to believe."

Florals? For spring? Groundbreaking.

Pause for smoking again.

Do you know that every word on a script's page is calculated for time spent to film, down to a second's worth? That not only do the writers'plot out sequences, but someone else they hire cuts through and marks their writing with that timetable, leaving very little flexibility for too many add-ons or add-libs (unless succinct, quick, and carefully slotted in?)

And the writers plotted for how many neck-smoking sequences?

Wow.

Mulder smacking CSM's cig away would have been nice if it hadn't been squandered by the up-close DID YOU CATCH IT shots back and forth. And the fact we had a better moment from a better era (Talitha Cumi) that did this, too. SEE, FANS, YOU CAN DO PARALLEL GIFS NOW-- aren't you happy?????

CSM sounds so Canadian. Guess WBD didn't watch out for his vowels anymore? I guess?

At this point, just.... Is there any reason why Mulder doesn't pull the trigger? YES, I KNOW real Mulder wouldn't. But this is Earth 2 Mulder. This is Clone!Mulder. This is... what did I call him in my Weremonster review (post here)? Oh, yeah: this is Ken; and he'd leave a slug in CSM's head for his Barbie. Why not? For me, do it for meeeeeeeeee.

We're back to this: Tad O'Malley 's characterization is, perhaps, THE PEAK EXAMPLE of lazy writing. (That or Scully's continued butchery....)

"The mainstream media doesn't cover" etc. etc. Well guess what? Both sides don't cover what's not advantageous to their narrative; but further, WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND WOULDN'T COVER THIS NEWS STORY? We haven't established in canon if the media is or isn't in pocket with the Syndicate. Regardless, they'd be scrambling with 24/7 coverage for answers or an attempt at a cover up. What should have happened instead was that the media wasn't following the story to public's satisfaction and Tad filled that void, which would reveal a selfish, megalomaniacal streak to his nature-- the classic tale of drunk on power and corrupt with unchecked influence. INSTEAD, he's right.

And Chris Carter, by proxy, turns himself and his writing and his analytical prowess into a mere, perfunctory jape. (I'm not the type to hate, despise, or even dislike CC. I'm really not. But this is a stretch too far; and his later dogged insistence that we didn't get it is an even further, even more insulting stretch.)

I think? Chris tried to inject nuance-- that Tad was wrong because he deduced the cause of the virus to CHEMTRAILS, of all things-- but... the episode hasn't said it's not chemtrails, NOW HAS IT. You can't have one thing be held up as possible proof without debunking it or, I don't know, at least addressing how stupid that is.

Wait, did they even explain how everyone got sick? Or why was the military hit first? Or why there weren't huge swatches of the immuno-compromised population that came down with the virus first?

DON'T ASK, JUST CONSUME PRODUCT.

I'm only half-way through.

Spartan virus.

Oh, so Monica Reyes told her about the virus. Off-screen. ...So Monica's scene was still a waste because it established nothing important in two or three minutes, then kept necessary information off-screen so Scully could relay it later on x2 speed. ...Got it.

Laaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazy. And stupid.

Stupid.

"I'm on the king's throne, it's soft like the king"/"On the contrary--" ARE WE IN MIDDLE-SCHOOL??? "MY INSULT IS BETTER THAN YOURS"? "I'M CLEVERER THAN YOU BECAUSE I USED THE SAME WORD BUT TWISTED IT A DIFFERENT WAY"?????? WHAT IS THIS.

CC's trying to have his Grand Inquisitor Talitha Cumi moment but forgot it was David Duchovny, not himself, that managed to pull off those concepts... because they were DD's ideas and interests. And because he was, I dunno, not cringe about it.

Welp, we've skipped past Dostoevsky and gone straight to Leroux. Or more likely Webber, since he popularized Phantom of the Opera.

I'm so.

My Struggle II isn't even angering because all of it is rehashed Wattpad: early elementary and middle school creative writing exercises. At least something's HAPPENING. It's just... eye roll worthy.

CSM's still lustin' after Scully?????? Bro just won't let it go.

Okay, I'm gonna say it: CC's setting this guy up to be a virile patriarchal figurehead-- as in, be fruitful and multiply. Mulder's become his Cain son (cursed by God) and he intends to build a new legacy through Seth, i.e. Jackson, I presume; or a second miraculous baby from Scully. BECAUSE THAT'S THE IMPLICATION, btw.

Scully's alien DNA's gone. It just comes and goes when the plot needs it to, huh?

Tad's back. Microwave radiation as far as Europe. Cute.

The lights go out. Scully remarks they're already in the dark. The lights come back on. Scully has a ground-breaking idea. Subtle.

Einstein's up-close makeup is also crusty and gross. Sigh.

THEIR SAMPLE OF SCULLY'S ALIEN DNA WAS TOO SMALL??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????? THEY DIDN'T FACTOR IN THE POSSIBILITY OF NEEDING ENOUGH TO TEST ON/WITH AND TAKE A LARGER SAMPLE FROM THE GET-GO OR SOMETHING????????????

Oh, Mulder didn't even bother to leave CSM's place?? (In South Carolina, btw. That's a callback for us Earth 2 theorists, as the writers referred to us fans via TLG and Mulder in Blood.) Mulder just gave up and laid back on CSM's comfy chair to die?????

MULDER DIDN''T LIMP BACK TO SCULLY'S SIDE TO DIE WHEN HE KNEW CSM WAS IMPLYING HE WOULD SCOOP HER UP-- NOT EVEN TO WARN SCULLY, AND JUST DECIDED TO LIE BACK AND DIE???????????????????????????????????????? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS "GET UP AND FIGHT" REALIZATION in AMOR FATI?????? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM ALWAYS GOING BACK TO HER BECAUSE SHE MAKES HIM A WHOLE PERSON????? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM DOING THE IMPOSSIBLE TO WARN HER SHE'S IN DANGER????????????????????????????????? WHERE IS MULDER, AND CAN SOMEONE PLEASE GET A REFUND FOR EARTH 2 MULDER AND SCULLY?

Miller found him. Just. Peachy.

Why did I just get a flashback to Bill Mulder's death? Probably because Mulder Lite is saving older gen Mulder. UGH.

Little Mulder Lite has more grits and guts than his predecessor. That's... that.

CSM-- who was just chillin' as Mulder lay fully consumed by the majesty of impending death on a comfy cushion-- lets 'em go, I guess.

The scientists are just rehashing dialogue. That's all they do this episode, unfortunately.

CSM literally waddled out after them to see Mulder off and tell Mulder Lite to say "Goodbye" from him.

...

.....

........

How far The X-Files have fallen.

That's a fancy car. Guess Miller, too, has a stack of cash we Earth 2 theorists can headcanon that his parents left him after some tragic fate. Whatevs.

Look at the pathetic mew mew-- the absolute wet, sopping beast-- in the passenger seat. Glad it's not Mulder-- that would be demoralizing, ha ha ha....

Only about 7 minutes left.

Wait.

WAIT.

WAIT, WAIT, WAIT.

Scully's giving everyone alien DNA. How's that gonna--

And also: they already have alien DNA. They were all born with it. It's junk DNA in their system. We learned this from the ORIGINAL SERIES.

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Tad, I do not CARE.

Scully just stops someone from causing havoc and chaos because she... begs them? To go to the hospital? And promises them help is on the way?

Lady, they don't know who you are. And if these are disaffected rioters and looters, they're not gonna listen to, let alone believe, you.

WAIT.

THEY HAVE A VACCINE?????? JUST LIKE THAT??????? IN A MATTER OF HOURS???????????????????????

Also, Tad O'Malley just got a text and that's how everyone found out? Who texted him? Miller? How did Miller know? Did Scully tell him? What? What, what what, WHAT.

...Is the hospital using Scully's DNA now to make more vaccines? Is that why she's free to run around the city? Free to meet Mulder and Miller and help them? UM.

UM.

Are there even any reported deaths? Legitimately asking that.

It's all so illogical I'm not going to try to parcel it out.

This episode is brought to you by a man who believes only six weeks have elapsed since My Struggle I. More knucklehead comedy after the break.

Scully meets up with them at the bridge.

Mulder says... Mulder says: "He saved your life. Old Smokey. I suppose I should thank him."

...Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh. Yes, it's a quip. At least it's supposed to be one: Mulder, irreverent to the last. EXCEPT HE MIGHT BELIEVE IT BECAUSE THE WRITING'S SO LAZY WE'RE NOT SHOWN WHAT HE ACTUALLY THINKS OR FEELS.

SCULLY takes ONE look at him and thinks, "Ah, snap, he needs more than what I brought, snap. A vaccine might not save him, snap." HELLO, how do you know that, ma'am. How does she know that, writers? IS ANYONE AWAKE IN THE WRITING ROOM?

PLEASE GIVE ME A SHOW OF HANDS BY WAVING YOUR HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMAS.

Embarrassingly lazy.

OH, SUDDENLY SCULLY NEED TO FIND WILLIAM. Not because she has guilt for him, not because she wants to atone and make things right, not because she wants closure.... but BECAUSE MULDER NEEDS HIS STEM CELLS, PROBABLY. WHAT???????????????

EVEN IF YOU DO, SUDDENLY, FIND WILLIAM ASAP,

MULDER WILL BE DEAD

BY THEN.

Oh, look: lens flares. Because that's what's important.

UFO's here, I guess.

Uh.

Also.

Um.

Wouldn't it be funny if that was William and he was riding down to join his parents after the aliens reclaimed him at some point, like Gonzo's alien family in one of the Muppet movies? I wouldn't put it past the show in all honesty.

What a ghastly but whimsical mess. Aspirational child's first major writing project. It's kind of sweet through that lens.

And then you remember who wrote this and die a little inside.

Let's consolidate this madness:

The Syndicate gained alien technology from the aliens (it's in the name) in the 50s. The aliens were peaceful creatures, I guess, who didn't really want to cause anyone problems.

Colonization didn't happen in 2012 because the aliens weren't going to colonize because humans were going to destroy the planet through global warming.

Mulder knew Colonization wouldn't happen before 2012, which means his depression didn't stem from that. He just got uber depressed (and diagnosed with the wrong depression, ahem ahem) and... yep.

Scully left before Mulder's depression got really bad. There is no mention in canon how bad it got, ONLY that she feared it would be worse and left. The best explanation we're given (in S11) is that she had to work on herself, too.... So, I guess that means leave your depressed-but-not-really-but-maybe-but-not(?) partner without giving us, the audience, a plausible explanation for that break.

Scully is surprised she has alien DNA... despite her knowing she had alien DNA since the original run; and despite she and Mulder knowing everyone has junk alien DNA in their system.

Mulder has alien DNA, so he shouldn't have gotten sick here. Everyone has alien DNA, so they shouldn't have gotten sick here.

Monica Reyes joined CSM to survive and tells Scully about the Spartan virus and... dips? Her scene served no purpose other than to show us formerly-exploded CSM. The meaty information necessary to the episode was given off-screen.

Scully jumps from wild conspiracy to other wild conspiracy without proof.

CSM sends a guy to save Mulder and that guy... tries to kill Mulder? Such a stupid tv/movie trope.

Mulder never disconnects/turns off his phone while driving to get vengeance on CSM... and Scully never thinks to check if his phone location was on.

Mulder drives to CSM's just to collapse on his couch and give up.

The writers wanted a parallel to Amor Fati where Mulder lies "dying" with "the devil" outside his door, and tried to recreate that motif (or straight up rip it off) when Miller arrived: CSM was literally on the other side of the door from where Mulder was dying, again.

CSM just lets Mulder and Miller leave despite wanting to see Mulder die. 'Kay.

Scully manufactures a vaccine in a matter of hours...? From her DNA?

Scully takes one look at Mulder and assesses he's too far gone and thinks she needs to find their son to use his stem cells on Mulder to save him. ...How would Scully know this, given her particular practice, current vocation, and lack of expertise?

While Scully flails and loses her mind (and core character traits) in My Struggle I, Mulder slumps over and gives up in My Struggle II. It's not out of character for him to do so in extreme situations (ala Little Green Men-ish and 3 and One Breath and One Son) but it has to be JUSTIFIED.

Also: the conspiracy theorist is ultimately right all along. He's just mistaken about his chemtrail theory-- it was the government weaponizing vaccines instead. Yippee.

CONCLUSION

Nancy Yi Fan wrote a better and more engaging story at 11-years-old than Chris Carter (and Glen Morgan-- he signed off on this) did in his 50s or 60s.

Lazy.

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[tsukimefuku]

old regrets and guilt ridden pasts (2) ꕥ higuruma hiromi

part 1 → this part → part 3 (soon) | mdni!

summary: you get home, only to find that hiromi is there ready to talk after your failed attempt to open up about your past. he intends to confront you on that, among other things.

tags: +18!, non-explicit! sex scenes, implied smut, f!reader, established relationship higuruma x reader, little to no cursing, reader is kind of emotionally stunted, romance, mentions of death, grief, angst, fluff, hurt + comfort (a lot of comfort, this is healing).

wc: 1.8k

notes etc.: heavy spoilers for "sand and snow" readers. this might be the loveliest thing i've written to date. thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing it 🧡 written to the sound of running up that hill (kate bush) and heart skipped a beat (the xx) - the second one is the song that inspired the main scene. as always, i write flawed characters that can (and will) sometimes be assholes, but they're trying their best.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

When you came inside your apartment, there were no lights on. However, from the open door to your bedroom, you could see that Hiromi was laying down on your bed, probably fast asleep by this point.

Defeated, you left your things on the table and silently got in the room, stepping inside the bathroom to wash away all the grime and dirt (and hurt) from a godawful day.

'Godawful day' is definitely a good name for having memories of people long gone stirred up and thrown at your face, reviving your grief all over again.

You were still feeling guilty for not having talked to Hiromi about it, unable to not shut him out, yet again.

Why do I keep doing this? I'm such a jerk.

Upon finishing your shower, you came back into the room, and slid yourself into comfortable clothing before laying down beside him. Hiromi had his back turned to you, but he must've felt you on the bed, because he didn't take long to roll himself on the mattress and look at you.

He seemed upset, and with good reason.

"You could have entrusted me with your pain too, you know," Hiromi began, not giving you much time to muster up anything to say. Not even a good night.

You exhaled slowly, trying to collect your thoughts around it all. This day was an absolute rollercoaster of emotions.

"For you to learn my pain, I’d have to explain it, and I just... It is hard to explain exactly what happened and remembering that day," you offered. "Aside from me, Nanami is the only one who also saw it happen."

Hiromi considered what you said for a moment, but you could see the resolute way in which he softly shook his head.

"Still. I can’t fight you every step of the way for you to let me in. I’m your boyfriend."

The word lingered in the atmosphere around you.

He was, in fact, your boyfriend. You had been dating for a while then.

"We’re supposed to share these kinds of things so that we can be there for each other," he stated, a chide with a plead for understanding, while his thumb came up to press softly against your chin.

"I… I know. I’m sorry."

And you were, truly and deeply sorry, for everything. For pushing him into going along with that stupid idea of letting you inside his domain to get rid of your cursed technique temporarily, for retreating back into yourself when things grew dire, and for not letting him in when he expressly asked you to.

"What are you so afraid of?" Hiromi asked, in earnest.

You took some time to think about his question.

What were you so afraid of, after all, that you couldn't let him in — or at least felt like it, many times? 

Then, you realized.

"I'm scared that… That you will leave me too," you began, "I'm terrified that I will have opened myself up, all vulnerable and shit, and then for some reason, I'm left alone again. That's a recurring theme in my life."

"My love, in case that ever happens, keeping me at arms length won’t make it hurt any less."

You chuckled bitterly.

"Funny you should say that. I said the same thing earlier today."

Hiromi edged himself closer softly under the covers, approaching you gently.

"It takes one to know one, right?" he offered, in a kind and loving voice.

"I guess it does," you answered with a minute smile on your face.

"So, will you let me in now?" he inquired, holding your gaze. "Please."

You knew he'd surely be aware of at least the gist of the story, due to the evidence inside the envelope he never got to open before you confessed to your brother's "murder".

Still, it was different. He had to hear you say it, tell him the whole story.

So, you inhaled deeply, ready to dive in the murky lake of your past, before proceeding.

"My brother. He was…" considering for a moment, there was no word that could really convey it. Not entirely. You settled for "everything."

A sigh.

"He was… The sun to my moon. My brother was the laughter, the joy, the silly jokes, the shoes thrown around the house, the noise, the annoyance, the smell of curry in the kitchen, the helping hand, the coming home to, no matter how dire things got."

Silence.

"And then, in one night, there was… none of him anymore. Nothing, just his cold dead body laying on the ground."

A moment that felt like ten.

"I… We were twins, and a part of me, I guess… just died with him. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. So here I am, still living with this hole inside me, where some piece used to be. His piece."

Hiromi stayed quiet for a second, pulling your knuckles kindly against his lips.

"My sun is gone, and I'm drifting, untethered. I…" You took a heavy huff of air inside your lungs. Yet, you were still breathless, the ache weighing on your thorax like a hydraulic press.

"This grief is like a tar pit, and no matter what I do, this faceless monster just keeps sucking me under." 

Your last words dropped to the drum of a eulogy, the one you never got to do.

His palm descended lightly on your cheek as the night breeze gently brushed over the window. The room was dark, dimly lit by moonlight and streetlamps bleeding through the curtain, but it became remarkably quiet. Silent.

Cotton filled ears while the world stopped moving for a second, waiting under a muted heartbeat.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

His gaze softened — rather than darkened — as his lips approached, all pacify, and yearning, and empathy, and commiseration. Upon contact, your eyes fluttered into a deeper dimness, letting your mind drift around, away and back again, as he began his first attempt to tether you.

You may have lost your sun, but you wouldn't keep drifting away, not anymore.

He wouldn't let that happen.

My love…

Yes?

Eyes on me.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

Okay.

Dexterous hands pulled you back to Earth, drawing you deeper into his orbit when they fit themselves securely and unfaltering against your waist.

Warm digits kneaded over the celestial wanderer drowned in the tar pit of painful remembrance.

Your senses thickened, your pupils grew wider, and your touch found the nape of his neck, seeking the halo of his comfort.

He was always so comfortable.

Just like coming home to.

He felt at home in you, too.

Another kiss. Gentler. Kinder.

The dark against your fluttered-shut eyelids didn't steal you away from him again, though. He had placed himself firmly around you, with an inevitable gravitational pull, all understanding, warm and welcoming, with the soft press of his entire body against yours.

Your senses heightened — you smelled him, touched him, heard him, felt him. The rhythm of his breath, now softly hitched. His chest, up and down, pulsing with longing. His skin, silvery glow under the moonlight. 

Hiromi smelled…

Well, he smelled like Hiromi.

The best smell there was.

Earthly bound, finally.

His mouth, teeth, lips, all made their way to slit themselves against the edge of your jaw.

May I?

Please.

One, two, three, four beats.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips as his teeth sink against the softness of your chin, crawling up to your mouth, hot breaths mixing with one another, two stardust clouds melting together.

He bit your bottom lip and let it go, then brushed his own mouth against yours. So feathery. So delicate.

Another kiss.

You lock against each other with little to no exploration — you've walked these paths before. You do so with the soft embrace of familiarity. The velvety reassurance of known lovers.

All to the gravitational beat that surrounded you both.

You grasped each other's hands against your clothes, and gentle as could be, the fabric slowly unraveled itself from your bodies, sliding their delicate way down the floor, forgotten.

Hiromi began nosing his way down your skin, but your hands cupped his jaw, pulling him back.

A pause.

Four heartbeats.

Eyes on me, remember?

A huff, almost a laugh, and the kindest peck.

Okay, my love.

His hand made its way under the duvet, all electric, and liquid, and cold, and hot, pressing the air out of your lungs. He was happy to inhale you in, open-mouthed and muddy, as you hitched and whimpered to his rhythm.

You were quick to fall apart, undoing to him, arching your entire body. Almost losing yourself.

But he pulled you back, the other hand resting over your shoulder blades, remembering you.

Eyes on me.

As you tried descending yourself, he held you back. 

This time, it would be all about you.

Gently pulling you under, his thumbs brushed against your shoulders with tenderness. His eyes flickered with trepidation and affection, as your foreheads pressed to one another. Hiromi pushed and sunk slowly into you, hooked nose snuggled beside yours.

To say he was making love to you wouldn’t be wrong, but paled in comparison to this.

He was loving you tenderly, honestly, just so you could take some of that love he poured into you and give it to yourself, filling the gaping hole left behind by an abrupt absence. The forever and always empty seat in the front row of your life.

He pleaded internally, please, may this be enough.

He was loving you so wholeheartedly, giving you all the warmth you offered to most people but yourself, that you could’ve wept — you probably did, the dampening on his cheek brushing against yours made that evident.

"Touch me." Love me.

"Yes." I do. I will.

Hiromi tried, kind and gentle, loving this grief into vanishing, willing it into non-existence. 

My love. My whole, entire love.

But he couldn't, it was engraved in black all over your flesh, your bones, and your soul.

Each kiss while he wrapped his arms around you, tucking you underneath him, was an attempt at chipping away on your armor of pain and loss.

As he rocked your hips gently, he imprinted on your skin every inch of affection you needed to soothe yourself, but you were finding it difficult to pick up these pieces and ensemble the puzzle.

You found it hard to let all your guilt go, after all. It was already an old companion of sorts.

Drinking your voice in as you tipped over the fall, he thought for a moment, could I steal her pain away?

He'd do it in a single heartbeat if he could, if only to repay you for saving him after he had gone past the point of no return.

Some days after that, coming back to this moment, you would finally understand other people's shortcomings from a deeply personal and subjective perspective.

It was hard, after all, being forgiven without forgiving yourself.

Tag list (that I keep forgetting, sorry): @yammy-yammy-yama @g-kleran @otomesass

Reblog divider by @benkeibear

[serickswrites]

Get Up III

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Warnings: gunshot, mcd, head ache, captivity, restraints, amnesia, torture, scientific experimentation

"Why won't you work?" Villain growled as they watched as their tenth attempt to revive Hero failed. They stared down at Hero's pale, empty eyes. "Why won't you wake up?"

They had been trying for the better part of a week to revive Hero. Each subsequent failure was enraging. It was even more so because as far as they could tell, everything should be working.

"It's more than electricity," Villain muttered as they re-read their notes for the fifteenth time. "But what elements are missing? How do I tether your essence?"

Hero didn't respond. Villain began to wonder if the bullet in Hero's brain had destroyed something vital to the process. "I am so close. I know I am."

They had failed to revive their fallen minions as well. They had burned through enough bodies that they knew what would destroy a body. But they still hadn't figured out what would bring them back.

"One more try for today. Because I am going to bring you back. And then I'm going to kill you slowly, painfully. Because no one gets to kill you, but me."

***

Hero wasn't sure what was happening to them. Their head hurt, worse than any headache they had before. They were laying on a cold, metal slab. How had they gotten there? What had happened?

They strained to remember as they struggled to open their eyes. It was so bright here. Their eyes hurt as they tried to open them.

What had happened?

"There you are," a voice that had Hero's blood running cold came from nearby. "I was wondering how long it would take for you to get here," Villain said with a sinister smile as they stared down at Hero.

Hero swallowed. Their mouth was so terribly dry. They couldn't speak. Why were they with Villain? What had happened?

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Hero."

Tags: @ftl-faster-than-life @wankusbonkus @lili-loves-whump @nolittlenightmare @d-cs

@daemonvatis @bisexuawolfsalt @pic-star01 @st0rmm

[artist-issues]

I was writing out a really long meta analysis piece on the og Beauty and the Beast on how music and lighting were used to tell a story and I tagged you in it because I thought it’d be fun to debate some of that stuff with you but now I can’t find it in my drafts at all! It’s all gone 😭 so I came to your blog to make myself feel better and found your post about Zazu in the Mufasa movie and seeing you draw the characters in the original Disney style really cheered me up. Their animation used to be so beautiful and had so much love in it (your art was gorgeous by the way, it actually looked like a real lion king film!)

Anyway! If it’s not too much on you, I’d like to hear some rambles on Disney, it could be about anything really, but I’ve just gotten some really awful news tonight and I need something to take my mind off it please

Oh I'm so sorry to hear that! I want to be there for you. You're so kind about my art, thank you; I wish I'd seen the post. I’ve had it eat my drafts before like thirty times; recently my phone is doing this fun thing where I can’t type more than two paragraphs without tumblr freezing up, so I’ve lost more that way.

Let’s see…let’s talk about Disney’s Sequels! In these trying times of remakes and prequels, the Direct-to-Vieo Sequels start to look pretty good right about now, don’t they? I think they actually got better as time went on and money went into Disney Toon studios, but I’ll list my top three and explain why!

Lilo and Stitch 2: Stitch Has a Glitch (no I’m not biased leemee alone)

‘The Lion King II: Simba’s Pride

Bambi II

I can explain myself.

Lilo and Stitch 2: Stitch Has a Glitch

This movie is amazing. It repeats the best things about the original Lilo & Stitch (tight focus on character-relationships, character-specific comedy, and a simple story) while still having its own vibe, as if these are the exact same characters you know and love, but they have a recently-new normal.

Stitch isn’t a destructive artificial-brain figuring out how to think outside his programming anymore—now thinking outside his programming is the new-normal, but he still has to learn how life with a family works. Lilo isn’t lonely anymore, but she is still stuck in her own little world, in a way. Nani isn’t struggling to keep her family together anymore, but she is still struggling to keep them all happy. And Jumba and Pleakley get character arcs, which is beautiful.

If you’ve never seen it, I don’t want to spoil it. It is a really good movie. They took this concept, which was originally from Chris Sanders’s early story ideas for the first movie, where Stitch is in danger of death but Lilo’s love revives him. And they made a movie out of that.

It’s great, because Lilo is still working through missing her parents. The movie doesn’t brush that aside, or act like having Stitch fixed everything for her. Instead, she’s become singlemindedly focused on winning the same competition at hula school that her mom did, because she wants to feel a connection with her mom, and because her peers are still treating her like she’s worthless.

The thing is, Lilo gets the confidence to try and win this because of Stitch. She’s downcast and believes that her bullies are right. You get the idea that this is how she would feel if she were still a lonely orphan. But this time, because this is the sequel, Stitch is there.

So he tells her they’ll win the competition together. And in this movie, while Lilo is struggling with getting her sense-of-worth from Stitch, or a hula competition, Stitch is struggling with his sense-of-worth, too. He’s glitching out and his programming is forcing him to act destructive all over again. He’s not sure if he’ll always be bad—he’s wrestling with the possibility that he’ll hurt Lilo and his new family.

And in the meantime, Jumba is trying to solve the problem, but he’s afraid he’ll fail, and lose his worth in the eyes of the family, as well as lose Stitch. And David, in a little side-story, is afraid he’s losing Nani, that she doesn’t value him.

All of which sounds really dark, but it’s really an interesting place to take the characters, and truthfully the whole film is so lighthearted where it needs to be, but not afraid to be earnest and emotional, either. And the point of it is really good. It’s “love is more powerful than death.” It’s powerful enough to overcome questions about self-worth, and it’s powerful enough to overcome the gaping hole that loss and failure and other forms of death leave. It’s gorgeous.

2. The Lion King II: Simba’s Pride

People take issue with this sequel because…I mean, look at it. There are parts of it that are animated really well, and the character designs are good, until you measure it up to the original Lion King, and then it’s just not even the same league. Besides, the writing is very dramatic, sometimes the sound editing for the characters’ dialogue is placed strangely or feels like the pacing is weird…

But I love it, and not just for nostalgia. I love it because it is about a new set of characters (like a sequel usually should be) but the previous set of characters still act in-character.

Not everybody agrees with me. Because Simba seems much less fun-loving, and so uptight and formal, that he doesn’t feel like the same character we knew and loved in the original Lion King, at all.

But it only takes like one second of thought to realize that, as a brand new king who’s uncle murdered his father and emotionally blackmailed him, and was able to do so easily because Simba himself was so self-centered and reckless as a child, and then Simba made big mistakes by running from his responsibility for so long…

…where we find him in this sequel makes total sense.

Of course he’s feeling like he has to overcompensate for abandoning the kingdom and getting fooled by Scar. Should he realize that not everyone is going to betray him, and he is the real King and can rule gently and fairly without being over-controlling? Should he? Yeah. But like. This is Simba. His major character flaw is thinking too much about himself—it used to be thinking he was awesome, then after his dad died it was thinking he was unable to be a good leader and everything was his own fault. Now, everything he ever dreamed about being a King, he dreamed when he was like the lion-equivalent of nine years old. And found out it was all wrong. He’s having to figure this out with only his father, whose very absence is a sore spot, as an example. Of course he’s suddenly obsessed with being just like his dad, and that makes him talk all formal, and pass strict judgement, and say things like “I’m seeking counsel from the Great Kings.”

Of course Simba would be protective of Kiara. Overprotective. Lying and controlling. Because as a child, he and Nala almost died over and over. And the worst of the worst things happened to him, as a cub.

Of course he wants to banish Kovu. It’s not because he’s racist. (What does that even mean?) It’s because he was betrayed and manipulated as a young, naive cub by someone who claimed to love him, then broke his heart and his life. So when a dark lion who literally looks like and claims connection to Scar waltzes in and appears to be manipulating his daughter and stealing her young heart? Yeah, no, it wouldn’t be Simba if he didn’t overreact.

But that’s enough about Simba. I think the movie’s real strength is symbolism and premise.

First off, it continues the symbolism of a reflection in its own unique way. The movie is very on-theme. Its point is “Hate divides us, but love completes us.” (Its not “We Are One,” that’s just Movie-Speak)

Kiara feels incomplete. Divided from a whole other half of who she is. She says so as a cub. She’s not just a princess; she feels like there’s a part of her that wants to be capable and bold and take action. But she can’t be that, she has no outlet for that, because as the Princess, everyone is always over-concerned for her safety and wrapping her in like, wild-animal-bubble-wrap. Then she meets Kovu, and he is capable, and bold, and takes-action—he seems independent. (He’s not, at first, but he has more control over his immediate actions than Kiara seems to.) And he gets her and loves her, and she loves him, despite their flaws, so that is her missing half.

And with him, he doesn’t know how to just enjoy life. He’s been trained his whole life to act out of passe-down hatred; he’s been run through drills, and there’s even a scene where Kiara has to teach him how to play…and then he goes back home to his sister, who clearly also wants to play, but just calls it “fighting.” That’s the world he comes from.

But he meets Kiara, who is all about trying to enjoy life and have fun, and it’s a whole new outlook for him. It’s what he had seeds of before his mother’s hate stamped it out, and Kiara completes it for him. So they really are each others’ other half. And they have that in common. Kiara could be independent and a capable leader, if her father’s hate (which manifests as paranoia and overprotectiveness against danger) weren’t stamping it out. Kovu could have fun and protect good things instead of killing, if his mother’s hate wasn’t stamping it out. Dividing the good parts of them. But then their love for one another overcomes all that and brings them together.

And they do that literally, with the reflections in the water. Simba needed to learn his father lives in him, he’s a part that can’t be separated. Kiara and Kovu needed to learn that love makes them part of one another—that’s the key to no longer being divided.

Just like how, in the end, love forgives—so the Outsiders are able to come back into the Pride. Instead of being divided, the prides literally merge into one, and are completed. Love all that.

If you think of it all as like, “how do we make Simba into a strong King when he has so much baggage to overcome?” And this adventure with his new family teaches him that? Then you can see it’s a really beautiful movie.

And I love, of course, that Mufasa appears to be orchestrating all these events. Like, there’s a Higher Power at work. It’s all good.

Bambi II

This movie has the same vibes as Lilo & Stitch 2, even though it’s a midquel.

I love that Bambi gets his own characterization and character arc in this movie, even though he’s pretty one-dimensional in the classic film. But yet, none of this feels out of character for Bambi. He’s sort of gentle and very young, but you can see glimpses of dreams and ambitions and even strength that show off what he’ll be like as an adult Great Prince of the Forest.

I think the animation is very good, soft and cute. It’s not so much about realistic-cartoon-animal movements, graceful and charming, like the classic was, obviously. This animation is more about emotion and appeal. Which I appreciate, because the story is, like most good Disney sequels, very relationship-based.

It’s about Bambi being cared for by the Great Prince, and how the relationship between a father and son is about more than duty; it’s about nurturing. I just love that. I love how carefully they build up Bambi as feeling distant and unsure of what’s going on in his father’s head, but wanting to please him nevertheless. I love that the Great Prince doesn’t know how, exactly, to care for or relate to Bambi, so he defaults to just telling him how to be dignified and Princely.

I especially love the scenes with Ronno or the Great Prince. I like the fact that those old Disney sequels can take a character that didn’t have a lot of dialogue or screen-time in the original, and build out a whole story around those characters, giving them personality and writing that somehow always feels true to those characters. The Great Prince might not know how to father, but even when he’s insecure he has a kind of put-on calm and reserve. He’s not made a fool-out-of, ever, or bumbling. I love that Ronno, on the other hand, is ridiculous and brutish, just a little-boy bully…but he’s also truly threatening, for Bambi and Faline and their friends.

I think the emotion in this movie hits really well. Because they’re so careful to interweave Bambi’s emotions about losing his mother and wanting to find the same feeling of safety he had with her in his father, with The Great Prince’s emotions about wanting to “do his duty” even if it hurts when he feels he’s not what’s best for Bambi…

Because they build that up believably and spend all their time on that instead of big, epic adventures or larger-than-life tales, the movies turn out really well.

Honorable mentions to Cinderella 3: A Twist in Time, The Little Mermaid: Ariel’s Beginning, Tarzan II, and Lady and the Tramp II: Scamp’s Adventure

I hope your day is better tomorrow, friend.

[cha-melodius]

First off, NO I'm not writing another Nova, Baby sequel. But I am dredging up this banner because I am writing firstprince spies again. I blame this one on @dumbpeachjuice and also @everwitch-magiks for suggesting... well, just read it, I think you'll figure it out.

“There has to be some mistake, something else it could be—” “Touch him.” Alex actually takes the phone away from his ear and stares at it, like Nora will be able to see the incredulous expression on his face. “I can’t— I’m not going to fucking touch him, Nora, he’s barely conscious.” “I’m not telling you to grab his dick, idiot,” she snaps. “Put your hand on his face or something. If I’m right, just the skin-on-skin contact should help revive him.” This is insane. Certifiably, actually insane. And yet Alex’s feet carry him over to the couch, where Henry’s supine form lays nearly unmoving, the only sign of life the slow rise and fall of his chest as his labored breaths wheeze through his lips. His cheeks are vividly flushed, which is made even starker by how fucking pale the rest of his skin is. So sickly, deathly pale that it ties a knot in Alex’s stomach, no matter how much he doesn’t care for the guy. Henry doesn’t stir as he kneels next to the couch, nor when Alex puts a hand on his shoulder to try to revive him. Gritting his teeth, Alex takes a deep breath and reaches out to lay a palm on Henry’s cheek. Henry gasps, his pale eyelashes fluttering before his eyes shoot open and start roving wildly over Alex. It’s so sudden and startling that Alex tries to pull away, only for Henry to grab his wrist in an iron grip and press Alex’s hand harder against his face. They stare at each other for a beat, then another, then Alex experimentally swipes his thumb over Henry’s skin, brushing against the corner of his mouth, and Henry moans. “He’s awake,” Alex croaks in disbelief. “Nora, what…” He can’t bring himself to ask the question. Doesn’t want to hear the answer. “Oh, you’re gonna have to fuck him, little buddy,” Nora says matter-of-factly. “Good luck.” Alex hangs up the phone.

Thanks to @kiwiana-writes, @three-drink-amy, @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @bigassbowlingballhead, and @heybuddy-drabbles for the WIP Weds tags, and to everyone who's been tagging me in the wip tag games for the last couple of weeks that I have not been responding to, including @porcelainmortal, @adreamareads, @suseagull04, @lfg1986-2, @itsmaybitheway, @magicandarchery, @getmehighonmagic, @leaves-of-laurelin, @indestructibleheart, @iboatedhere, @affectionatelyrs, @lizzie-bennetdarcy, @firenati0n, @sparklepocalypse, @orchidscript, @14carrotghoul, @nocoastposts, @sherryvalli, @violetbaudelaire-quagmire, @maxbegone, @rmd-writes, @welcometololaland, and probably others I'm forgetting bc I could only go back so far. Please consider this your tag back if you have not already done WIP Weds!!

Also tagging some other folks because why not, idc if Wednesday is almost over, share if you want! Time is fake! @clottedcreamfudge, @anchoredarchangel, @ninzied, @myheartalivewrites, @tintagel-or-cockleshells, @historicallysam, @indomitable-love, @loki-is-my-kink-awakening, @mirilyawrites, @nicijones, @justabigoldnerd and anyone else! Tag me!

[fereldanwench]

I didn't want to completely sit out a year-in-review, but for reasons I'll explain at the end of this post and under a cut, doing the traditional pick-one-pic-from-each-month approach just wasn't going to work for me. So instead, here are 20 of my favorite shots (in no particular order) of Valerie from 2023!

(I'll share solo Goro shots and shippy/story shots in two other posts before the year ends.)

Some thoughts about this year (cw for anxiety and depression mentions):

So yeah. I actually hadn't planned on joining in on the virtual photography year-in-review fun in part because... Well, frankly, I wasn't sure if it would actually be fun for me.

Although I do have pictures for every month, the first third, maybe even half, of the year was a struggle on almost every conceivable level. A lot of it was shit that carried over from the end of 2022, which was also an incredibly difficult year for me. I don't really want to delve too deeply into why--Some of it was personal, some of it was professional, some of it was fandom, and if you know, you know.

The main obstacle I had here is that looking at a lot of the shots I took from about January to May (give or take a few weeks on either end) honestly reminded me of Bad Times™️. I've worked really hard to pull myself out of that depression/anxiety cycle and return to a healthier approach to fandom and online socialization in general, but I just didn't want to spend a lot of time in that mental space. There are a few shots from those months that made it to my favorites, and I hope one day I can look back on that stuff and just feel the good from it again. Alas, that day is still not here.

But I am happy to report that the other reason I wanted to approach the review differently is a lot more positive! It's also two-fold: 1) I spent the earlier part of this year exploring more of a technical side of virtual photography and 2) I was really prolific the last third or so of this year so trying to narrow faves from about August until now was just not possible.

One of the few good things about the end of 2022 was being able to upgrade my graphics card, which meant I then had a rig that could support ray-tracing and hot sampling. As a result, I started putting a lot more focus on lighting and getting acquainted with new tools. I also was trying to work with the new AMM posing system, which is very convenient in some ways (100s of poses without reloading the game!) and a complete pain in the ass in others (can't move characters without their poses breaking!). Custom photomode poses + Nibbles Replacer has been the game changer I've been waiting for.

Or to put it more succinctly, December 2022 through about April 2023 felt like a relearning/return to basics kind of creative period, which is essential, but also means I just don't really like a lot of what I did, lmao.

Then, shockingly (I'm not shocked at all), starting treatment for my anxiety and depression in the second half of this year suddenly made creating a lot easier and fun again! Crazy how that works.

Even bumping this little review up to 20 shots instead of 12, there are still pictures from the past few months that I had to cut as favorites. There was just no way I could condense the amount of fave shots I took from August to now in just 5 options.

I also owe quite a bit of this revival to modders for asking me if I wanted to take shots for them--Exploring more of a fashion photography approach to my shots I think did a lot to build on what I had learned earlier in the year and encouraged me to try something new. I don't want to tag anyone in this long-ass glorified diary entry, but if you invited me to take mod shots for you, just know that it really meant a lot. ♡

And that's where my head has been with a yearly review! Is filling out a little template with 12 pictures this serious? No, it definitely is not, lmao. But hey, overthinking shit is still something I'm working on. ✌️

[ravingsockmonkey]

My top 24 screenshots for 2024

I got tagged by @changingplumbob for this, and woo I've got my work cut out for me! Genuinely, it was tough coming up with ONLY 24 screenshots. I could have kept on going until I hit the 30 cap.

To help make things feel a bit less chaotic (at least for me), I'll put SF1, SF2, and MISC to distinguish between save file 1 and save file 2 (which function as semi-connected AUs) and screenshots from miscellaneous saves that don't see as much consistent gameplay (like ones used to test patches and mods). Don't feel bad if none of that makes sense, lol.

Stuffing all the screenshotty goodness under the cut so folks can scroll on by if they would like.

1 - OK, I know this is not quite in the spirit of things mayhaps, but every time I look at this I want to scream. It's the only one that actually has a number ranking because of the sheer audacity of it all. Mr. Darrel Fucking Charm, a man with two toddlers in the other room (from two other sims I might add), actively taking care of a newborn who is one of a set of twins, that the man himself sired from an autonomous try for baby interaction in a pre-LS save that only had the Open Love Life mod installed at the time with his partner, Johnny, who he had only known for less than a full in game day, has assessed the situation at hand and is like "I want to do it again." - SF1

2 - Werewolf toddlers are great, and Rachael Charm was the cutest toddler! - SF1

3 - Darrel Charm being absolutely fed up with Casey Goth breaking into his house and stealing his tomes. - SF1

4 - "I want to be like dad!" Stephen and Malcolm Landgraab (don't worry, this Malcolm's actually a good dad) - SF2

5 - I made a basement pool for Caleb and Don - MISC

6 - Johnny Zest not-so-subtly sending a message to his parents. - MISC

7 - "STOP CALLING MY SISTER" - Robin Charm confronts her sister's dead-beat bio mom after she did one of those guilt trippy "when are you coming to visit?" calls. - SF2

8 - Finding your ex in the trash where you left him. - SF2

9 - Azure Goth finds Max Villareal's (they/them) Duplicato clone, Valentino (they/them) wandering around Willow Creek near her home. For some reason they refused to despawn. She took them home, lol. - SF2

10 - Speaking of Max, a copy of them got sucked into SF1 whenever Casey Goth tried to Necrocall the actual SF1!Max. So technically two Maxs exist in SF1: this one (shown with Lucas Munch [they/them]) and the actual world's Max (he/him) who is a ghost. - SF1

11 - That time whenever I got jumpscared by a vampire sim I made myself and put in a Racoon costume because it was funny at the time. - SF1

12 - Eileen Spurlock, mother of Bo Cash, claiming his death was a loss of no one of any importance. - MISC

13 - "Is there someone you forgot to ask?" - MISC

14 - Hector, can you please fuck off? - MISC

15 - A revived Bo Cash reunites with his sister, Meghan Spurlock, after years of no contact. - MISC

16 - Johnny Zest wearing the shortest shorts known to sim and humankind. - MISC

17 - Dusty Charm sitting with Grandma Charm's rocket missing her. - MISC

18 - Jeb's love and regret. - SF1

19 - Max Villareal, evil horse girl. - MISC

20 - TFW you fumble your Watcher-made relationship so badly that you practically hand him to your little brother (featuring Max Villareal [they/them], Erich Villareal, and Orlando Villareal). - SF2

21 - Best girl, Allie, giving smooches to Joshua Landgraab. - SF2

22 - Two brothers, each bound by the night in their own way, meet together under the moon to reconcile and reconnect. - SF1

23 - Toe in Mouth milestone! Harry Charm is a cutie~ - SF1

24 - Noah. Fucking. Harris. Enough said. - SF2

[halfusek]

Something inky this way comes! The Ink Demonth emerges once again!

The Ink Demonth is a 31-day event dedicated to the game Bendy and the Ink Machine (and other games associated with the Bendy universe). It’s based on daily themes. As long as your creation involves elements from the game along with any interpretation of the respective day’s theme – it counts!

You don’t have to create something for each day, make as many creations as you’d like. However, if you manage to do all 31 of them, you can submit a form to receive a little gift (drawing request)! In the form, you will have to provide a link to each of your posted event submissions (it doesn’t have to be Tumblr, just a site that’s publically accessible!).

Here is the link to the form (it will be opened from September 1st to September 30th):

Tag your creations with #The Ink Demonth and #Bendy and the Ink Machine. It’s important if you want to have your entry reblogged by me, which I’m going to do to everything I’ll see in this tag. (So don’t @ me, just tag it with the event’s tag and the game’s name. It’s possible that your post may not show up in the tags, if you notice that I’m not reblogging your entries for a longer while, feel free to DM them directly to me on Tumblr. My focus will be mainly on Tumblr, I may interact with posts on other sites but it is going to be with whatever I run into, as this event is Tumblr-focused. Feel free to post on other sites too, though!)

(Due to special circumstances in my life I might be especially slow this August with reblogging stuff, so if you notice that I'm not reblogging anything at all, I might just be having a busy day and will get on it when I'm free! <3)

(And, though I think it goes without saying, if I notice a post containing something I consider harmful content, I will not reblog it and will warn the creator of such content that, depending on the case, they cannot continue to take part in the event with content like this or perhaps even not at all.)

Remember to tag only the finished entries, so the tag isn’t clogged with WIPs!

You can create whatever you’d like! Draw a picture! Write a fic! Do a video edit! Take a cosplay photo! Anything you can come up with that is a creative interpretation of that day’s theme!

(Don’t try to „cheat the system”, though – don’t submit a, let’s say, straight line for each day, I will notice this kind of spam and remember: spamming is a terrible sin. You can make an entry that covers a few themes but as long as you don’t create 31 things, the gift will not be granted to you.)

The event starts on the 1st of August and ends on the 31st. Although, don’t worry if you’re too busy in August, late entries are always welcome! (…for reblogging, as for drawing gifts I’m going to give all of you an extra month, so if you’re aiming for that, the end of September is your deadline.) (I usually also give an extra month before for preparing during July but this year I’ve been too busy to make it for July so apologies!)

Why in August? I figured that since August is the month on Joey’s calendar in his apartment and August is the month during which BatIM takes place, it should be the one! 

Please, make sure to tag appropriate trigger/content warnings!

Thank you for taking your time to read this. Reblogs are appreciated in order to get the word out.

Have fun everyone! 💛🖤

You can view the text version of the full month under the cut~

1. Pencil

2. Friendship

3. Creator

4. Choice

5. Benevolent

6. Machine

7. Flow

8. Pen

9. Failure

10. Creation

11. Reason

12. Angel

13. Children

14. Puddles

15. Color

16. Legacy

17. Eye

18. Purpose

19. Ghost

20. Factory

21. City

22. Radio

23. Contraband

24. Keep

25. Cycle

26. Demon

27. Pit

28. Devour

29. Meat

30. Duck

31. Revival

[hunterswithcell-phones]

the death of all things that are seen and unseen

Okay, here's my fic for the @pieceofshitregulus Fest! Thanks so much for putting this together, and here it is.

The Astronomy Tower’s time warping effect manages to astound Regulus every time he makes the trek, which is more and more often these days. The tower allows him to spend his nights staring at the stars, so he ignores the rickety floors, which would usually destroy his sanity.

Without access to the tower, Regulus would spend far more hours staring at his walls while considering his imminent death, along with the imminent deaths of the few he let get close to him. Not James, though. He’ll live. Regulus is sure of it.

Considering the hand Potter has been given so far, it would only make sense for him to find the perfect woman for him to settle down with post-war and have 2.5 kids and be the best parent anyone has ever seen.

Not that Regulus will be around to see it.

Footsteps hit the stone steps leading to this room.

The footfalls hit faster and louder the longer Regulus waits, captive to their obnoxious sounds. He prepares to raise his voice with the usual speech that sends most people packing. Or he could skip right to the threat on their lives.

When Potter’s face appears in the doorway, any preparation goes to hell.

Didn’t James understand they were over? There is no reviving them.

“Leave.”

“But—”

“But nothing. Go back to my brother and get a good rest or whatever you Griffindors call it.”

James tries again. “But—”

“We are broken up and I’m not interested in going back on my words.”

Like the idiot James is, he stays. It’s what Regulus always loved about him. What Regulus still love about him. Not that he would ever tell James that there’s even a shred of hope they could get back together. “Reg, what if we stayed together?”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “I would join the Death Eaters and you would join the Order and you would spend the rest of my life trying to get me to join the Order and you would never understand that it isn’t a choice.”

“But what if you left with me this summer?”

How does he not get this? “And what? Live a normal domestic life as though Mother and Father won’t rain hell to get back their heir? This time, they won’t leave Sirius. They’ll take us both.”

The glint of hope hasn’t left James’ eyes. Foolish. “But my parents won’t let them.”

“Mother doesn’t need permission from a family outside the Sacred 28. I know you have 2 great parents who accept you for who you are and let you join the Order and take in your rag tag group of friends, but that was never an option for me. You will never understand the political games Sirius and I have navigated since birth. As much as it looks like he put absolutely 0 effort into escaping, it was all calculated. He played his cards right. You,on the other hand, were handed aces that you seem to be so keen to give to everyone else.”

“But—but.”

If he can’t accept it, I’ll have to raise my voice. “But nothing, Potter. Go. I don’t want to be reminded of how well my life could have ended.”

It must have sunk in this time. Head down, James stalks out.

[dancingtotuyo]

Before | 2. feel the tide turning

A Woman Story

Rating: Mature

Summary: consumption of alcohol, implied smut

Tags: backstory, Woman Universe, romance, Jackson Life, TLOU

Words: 1227

Series Masterlist | Woman Masterlist | Author Masterlist

It’s an odd sight. You’re still getting used to life around people again. It’s only been a week. Alongside the group, you’ve made substantial progress on reviving Jackson. So when a couple of the guys found old booze, got a generator running, and gathered up enough weak gas they decided to turn the Tipsy Bison, an old restaurant, into Party Central. 

Lights are strung up through the rafters, your first peak at electricity in years. An old record player turns in the corner. Your worn copy of Rumours sits in the stack of vinyl records, the only thing you brought with you when you came to Jackson except for clothes and a few photographs. You haven’t heard it in years, but something in you couldn’t leave it behind. 

People dance to the music and laugh. The air burns with electricity and excitement, yet you sit there with your finger of whiskey watching from the sidelines. Your brain can’t make sense of it all. How can they be so happy? So carefree?

“Not even a party can make you smile, Doleful.” Gabe smiles brightly, taking up the stool next to you. The swelling in his eye has gone down almost completely, the scratches down his cheek nothing but flakey scabs. 

You roll your eyes slightly. “Not much to celebrate.”

“We’ve been wandering a long time. Finding a place to stay is a lot to celebrate.”

“I don’t understand it.”

“You're starting to sound like a broken record.” Gabe raises his eyebrows at you. “Gotta get that smile out of you again.”

“Sorry, I only smile once a year.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah,” You take a sip of your drink, finding yourself fighting a smile. “Come back in 51 weeks for a sighting.”

He tilts his head to the side. “I think I can pull another one out of you before then.”

“Oh really?”

“You can bet I’m gonna try.” He winks.

You bite your lip, feeling a smile threaten to break through. He’s figuring you out, much worse, you’re letting him. The human interactions feel nice and warm, thawing out your heart.

“How long has it been since you danced?”

“Take a wild guess, Romeo.”

“Romeo? Does that make you my Juliet?”

You can feel the heat blooming in your cheeks “And what would give you that impression?” 

He shrugs, grinning at you. “You’re the one who called me Romeo.”

You finish off your drink with a sigh. Your eyes drift back over the room. The dance floor has grown. The room is warmer, or maybe that’s the alcohol in your veins. It still feels odd to see, like a glimpse into the past. You feel like you’re an outsider looking in, like someone watching a snow globe as it settles. You wonder if there’s a way in. You think you want it, but will you always feel like an outsider with them? Like you can’t experience life as they do. 

Gabe kicks his stool back, moving into your line of vision. He offers his non-injured hand, smile overtaking his face. “Come on, Doleful. Dance with me.”

You hesitate, staring at his hand like it’ll burn you. Why does this feel like a leap of faith? You’re moving into uncharted territory. 

“Unlike you, I won’t bite."

“I didn’t bite you.”

“No, just maimed,” he laughs. It’s good to see he doesn’t harbor any bad feelings about the injuries you inflicted. “Take my hand. Let yourself live just a little bit.” 

He looks so earnest, hopeful like a little kid waiting for their slice of birthday cake. Before you know it, your hand is in his. He pulls you out, navigating through other couples until he’s satisfied with a spot off to the side. He tugs you close, one hand in yours and another on your waist. It feels almost foreign, but you think you could get used to it. 

Your movements are stiff, uncoordinated. Your body is used to running and fighting for survival. The easy sway of dancing is gone from your bones. 

“Now, I know you have better moves than what you’re showing me,” Gabe says.

“I haven’t danced in years. I’m out of practice.”

“Ease your hips into it.”

You try, but it feels awkward and off beat compared to Gabe’s. “How are you so good at this?”

“This isn’t my first dance,” Gabe chuckles. “Let me help you.” He moves both hands to your hips, easing your body into more fluid movements. 

Heat spreads through your body, searing where he touches making it difficult to concentrate. Gabe smiles at you, encouraging you. You feel the easiness come back slowly. As you sink into it, your muscles loosen up swaying to the music. 

“There you go,” Gabe encourages. “I knew you had moves in you.”

 “Aren’t you just the knower of all things.” Your hands slide around his shoulders. 

“Well I was right about your smile, and your dance moves.”

“My dancing is subpar at best.”

He looks between your eyes. He tugs you a little closer, your body flush against him now. Your skin prickles with excitement as you fall into rhythm with him. It’s not something you’re used to. Desire has had no place in your life since the day the world collapsed. What might it be like to experience something beyond survival? You think it might be there now, blooming under the surface so unfamiliar, but natural. 

“Penny for your thoughts?” Gabe asks. 

“My thoughts are worth more than that.”

Gabe chuckles, spinning you around with a few quick moves before you fall back into him. “I suppose they are.”

Your lips flash to his lips, slightly chapped but inviting nonetheless. Then, the song ends. The air feels hot and thick around you as you stay in his arms, breath mingling with eachother’s.  

A slow smirk spreads across Gabe’s face. “Your thoughts are getting easier to read, Doleful.”

Your pulse beats in your ears, adrenaline and want and need course through your veins like it hasn’t in years. You lean your weight into him more. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

His thumb caresses your bottom lip, oblivious to the people around you, but they’re oblivious to you too. “Make you smile.”

You let out a breathy laugh, a smile hiding behind the flash of faux annoyance. “Among other things I hope.”

Heat flashes behind his eyes. He’s tempted to do it here, but he won’t. Once he starts, he doesn’t want to stop. His lips dip to your ear. “Grab your coat.”

You smirk, pushing off of him. His long, determined strides follow you. You wave to Maria as you grab your coat, a smile on your face. She clocks it immediately, a moment of shock rolling across her face that settles into a smirk. You roll your eyes at her. You’re really starting to warm up to the woman. 

Gabe’s hand is warm on your lower back, pushing you toward the house he’s occupied for the past week. He kisses you on the front porch, your uninhibited laughter filling the night before he hulls you inside. 

When he wakes up the next morning, the bed is empty, your clothes are gone, and there’s nothing but dirt where you left your boots last night. 

It’s only a week before you fall into his bed again, but months before you smile. 

[melverie]

⸺ LESSON 1 ⸺

unregistered

Solomon

Solomon & Barbatos

MC's magic

situation in the Devildom

demons & angels (& humans)

strange feelings & soup

misc

- lesson 2 || all posts so far -

1. As you might have seen, I'm trying to connect some plot points atm and have decided to just go through the lessons again in hopes of untangling this mess. Depending on my motivation I might do this for all 40 lessons All of them will be tagged under #mel's descend into madness because that's honestly what it feels like lol 2. This is a mix of gathering facts from the game as well as me trying to make sense of everything. I'll add the lesson references to all things actually stated in the game. That being said, I'll only add them to moments that happen in lesson 1 since that's less work for me lol 3. I'd love to hear your thoughts!! Add stuff, dispute some of my points, theorize, bring up story points that don't make add up to you--idc what it is but I'd love to hear it all!! Either share it directly on here or send me an ask if you'd rather share them as anon 4. General spoiler warning for all of Obey Me Nightbringer, as well as for the original Obey Me

⸺ UNREGISTERED ⸺

most likely Nightbringer, so I'll just call him that -> 'Nightbringer' fits into the amount of characters in their name, and just like the unregistered number, NB later in the story talks about taking MC to a place where they will be happy [1-1//chat 'Untitled' with Unregistered; both pics below]

Fun fact: "lightbringer" (aka the meaning of Lucifer's name) also fits :)

NB knows MC's name because they told him recently from NB's perspective, and a long time ago from MC's perspective [1-1//chat 'Untitled' with Unregistered]

Nightbringer talks about how nothing remains hidden from him and that they see everything (-> Barbatos, Michael, Father?) [1-1//chat 'Untitled' with Unregistered]

this is how NB describes how he sees time [1-1//chat 'Untitled' with Unregistered; pic below]. It's similar to how Solomon claims Barbatos once described time to him

⸺ SOLOMON ⸺

definitely Solomon and not some imposter because his cooking is still the same inedible mess we know him for 💖 [1-17]

he's casting some spell when MC calls him and claims it's for jumping through spacetime [phone call 'Untitled' with Solomon] -> at the very least it doesn't have anything to do with influencing the memories of the others because they already didn't remember MC before their phone call

Solomon is the one who tells us we are in the past [1-12]. I have no reason to doubt him there -> he also says that MC "just disappeared" [1-12]. No mention of anyone's reaction to this though

Solomon is also the one that tells us that we need to reforge our pacts with the brothers if we want to make it back to the [1-12; pic below]

⸺ SOLOMON & BARBATOS ⸺

had (OG) Barbatos lend him his power to come to the past [1-12]

when choosing the option that implies that MC and Solomon are dating, Diavolo response with this [1-9; pic below]. That doesn't sound like there's any bad blood between them yet, at least not from Diavolo's point of view which, in turn, makes Barbatos' behavior toward Solomon so much stranger

⸺ MC'S MAGIC ⸺

Solomon explains that MC's magic is much weaker because their pacts with the brothers aren't functioning properly since they are in the past [1-12] -> the OG already established that MC's magic is tied to their pacts with the brothers (OG's season 2 plot literally revolved around that), so it makes sense -> since they need magic to return to the present, MC is essentially trapped in the past [1-12]

MC isn't able to use the pacts at all at first [1-2, non-amnesia route], however the pacts aren't completely severed as evidenced by MC being able to use the 'Stay!' command [1-5] -> once overcome by a warm light inside them, MC is able to use the pact commands again [1-5]. Imo it somewhat plays out similarly to MC being revived during the lesson 16 incident in the OG (which was Lilith's doing)

something about Solomon's reaction to being told MC used stay bothers me. Idk what though. Then again, maybe he was just worried about MC's safety, so it could also just be nothing [1-9; pic below]

⸺ SITUATION IN THE DEVILDOM ⸺

the Great Celestial War was about a year ago [1-2] -> Mammon mentiond that it felt more like a century to him [1-14; pic below]. Probably nothing but I'm critical of every little detail at this point lol

the demon king is already out of commission, but he was still around to give the brothers their titles as avatars [1-5]

the brothers' arrival threw the Devildom in disarray [1-7]

⸺ DEMONS & ANGELS (& HUMANS) ⸺

both Asmodeus and Diavolo talk about how angels and demons technically aren't enemies anymore, yet both parties are still clinging to what happened in the past [Asmo in 1-15, Dia in 1-18; both pics below]

Diavolo says that the goal of building the school is to bring the Devildom and the Celestial Realm closer together. He generally talks about just the "two realms", completely leaving the humans out of all this [1-18; pic below]

⸺ STRANGE FEELINGS & SOUP ⸺

Diavolo says that he feels like he and MC already share a strong bond [1-18; pic below]

Lucifer indirectly expresses his concern for MC, and is honest about his feelings and worries with them (only to immediately downplay it and snap at MC, thanks Luci 💖) [lesson 1 hard mode]

⸺ MISC ⸺

the House of Lamentation has just been rebuilt in the Devildom. They also once again tell the story of what happened in that house when it was still in the human world and say that it might be cursed [1-7]. Not really all that relevant tbh

Diavolo first talks about building a school [1-17]. RIP 'The Glory Days' devilgram ;-;

Lucifer says that he doesn't trust demons [1-18; pic below]. Will be slightly relevant again in lesson 12 iirc