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terukotime · 10 months ago

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thinking about Ace and Eden again and how i really don't want either of them to be the culprit lol. i just feel like either one being the blackened would be a waste of their potential. i know in Danganronpa that's bound to happen with some characters, but Ace and Eden both have traits and arcs that could run through the whole series, or at the very least, to the next chapter. while a big part of any killing game story is losing characters quickly and having their arcs and growth cut short (we've already seen as much with Arei, rest in peace queen), Eden and Ace have a lot of prominence in the Trust vs. Distrust theme of drdt, on either side respectively. and they both have a lot of potential for their views to change. i can totally see Eden's optimism finally starting to crack, and she begins to lose hope in trusting others and thinking they're good-intentioned, especially since she was put in virtually the same place that Teruko was in in the last trial, with everyone distrusting her and thinking she's the culprit. though Ace hasn't had much of a catalyst to alter his beliefs yet, there's still hope for his views to change. he's a lot like how Teruko began to behave after the first trial, thinking he can't trust or rely on anybody and pushing everyone away as much as possible.

[giant-ass analysis under the cut. i didn't expect myself to go on such a huge rant, but i realized i have quite a lot of thoughts on the matter lmao. there are probably a lot of hot takes in here and i know there will be people who won't agree with me, so take this all with a grain of salt, pls & thx]

while Ace's role in the trials is mostly confined to causing conflict and being a comedic relief, he's expressed being committed to investigating the scene of Arei's death. while sure, if Ace is the culprit, his desire to investigate could very well be a ruse. but for the sake of his potential, it'd be far more interesting if him being innocent results in him going on to investigate more thoroughly and contribute substantially to the trials. Arei did have potential for a full redemption arc, but her death doesn't feel narratively unfulfilled. its tragedy not only allows the audience to further sympathize with Arei and see just how nuanced she was, but it's also meaningful to the members of the cast, and will serve as a point of motivation for them, whether that be to maintain hope in escaping or giving into despair.

at least, that's how it's set up to be. i feel that if either Eden or Ace are the culprit, Arei's death loses a good deal of its weight and meaning. especially if the culprit is Eden; even if she had "well-intentioned" motivations for killing her (as well-intentioned as murder motivations can be, anyway), Arei's breakdown, desire to change, and tragically short path to redemption is rendered pointless. her want to be a good person will have affected virtually no one. her death will have only held significance to David, as most of the cast didn't care for Arei or hated her, much like Ace.

while Culprit Ace won't render Arei's death *as* meaningless as Culprit Eden, it sure would make Ace's own death feel pretty meaningless. he'd be dying in a trial where he fully believes everyone is cruel, everyone hates him, and no one cares about him at all. his shift in his belief can't really be considered much of an arc or even a regression; he just descends further into his hatred and paranoia until he dies doing exactly what the killing game expects of him. Ace, a character who has prioritized his self-preservation all throughout the series, will have thrown that away for...what? revenge against Nico? would he really place his hatred for them over his fear and will to live? Ace is impulsive and narrow-minded, but he's not without *some* sense. if Ace were to be the culprit of this chapter, what would he have contributed to the story? what would his existence have meant? what would he have provided that the story can't progress without? he'd have zero growth, zero stakes, and zero relevance to the ongoing plot, aside from unrevealed backstory (most of which will likely go unsaid in the main story if he were to die now). do i think Ace is going to play a significant role in the overarching story? no. not as much as characters like Xander and David, anyway. but he still has so much to offer as either a survivor or later victim/culprit, as we'll have spent more time with him, gotten a better understanding of him, and possibly be able to sympathize with him, like we do with Arei.

and here's another thing i've been thinking about, too: all the deceased so far have a point of significance to the story. Xander has a connection to the larger-scale mystery surrounding the killing game and a complex relationship with David. he continues to be relevant in the story even after his death and will likely always be.

Min is not only a cautionary tale to the rest of the cast, but her story follows a very cohesive path:

she's a girl committed to her academics and has been led to believe it's the only thing about her that matters ->

while not a social butterfly, she still enjoys spending time with others and making the most of the situation she's in ->

she forms a bond with Teruko, someone who has shown to value both her intelligence and her personality ->

she finds Teruko being murdered by Xander, and instead of being a bystander, she takes action to save her friend ->

she realizes that what she did has jeopardized her own life, a life that she does not center around herself. her family depends on her having a successful future, a future she has been groomed to achieve since she was little and has made several sacrifices for ->

though Teruko is her friend, Min prioritizes her self-preservation. there are too many things that are objectively more important to her than the life of a girl she's known for a couple days ->

still, she cannot shake her guilt and chooses to remain at Teruko's side throughout the investigation ->

she's desperate to maintain her lie, even if it means framing the friend she tried to save and getting everyone else killed. she fights and fights until she can no longer ->

she loses everything. her life, her future, the trust of her friends, the trust and bond she had with Teruko. Min always had good intentions. but even good-intentioned people can do terrible things.

Min's story throughout Chapter 1 alone is very digestible and easy to follow. even without knowing the greater contexts of her life, like her family's financial situation or her groomed future of being a Hope's Peak student, her motives and actions make complete sense. you don't come away from it feeling like she acted out of character or that her death was hasty or sloppily written. her death has a lot of meaning and impact on the other characters.

and that alone makes Culprit Eden or Culprit Ace unsatisfying. Culprit Eden would not only undermine Arei's death and potentially lead her into character derailment, it'd also just be Min's story regurgitated in a much less compelling manner. Teruko has already had her trust broken, and while it seems like she's slowly starting to see the value in relying on others again in the Chapter 2 trial, what good would Eden's death do for her? even if it causes Teruko to regress, what will change? wouldn't Teruko go back to being the way she was acting at the start of the chapter, undoing whatever growth was already beginning to happen? will she be unaffected by Eden's death, or at least act like it? will it somehow strengthen her desire to trust and rely on others again? (it won't.) Eden's role as the chapter 2 culprit really won't do much good for the story, regardless of what her reasons are. everything we've learned about Eden and Arei, both together and individually, will be irrelevant. the significance of Arei wanting to be Eden's friend unconditionally, something that we learn is so significant for her because of her secret, will turn out to actually be pointless because Eden will have killed the one person who expressed they'd be her friend her regardless of who she is.

Ace simply hasn't done enough in the story to establish his deeper character. with Xander, Min, and Arei, we already got glimpses into their core beliefs, their true selves, their moral standings. if those aspects of a character are only revealed after they're confirmed to be the culprit, then honestly...that's just bad writing. i don't like saying that, but i firmly believe it. not only do we hardly know anything about Ace's backstory, we just don't know a whole lot about him other than surface-level things the show outright tells us: he's fearful and paranoid, he doesn't like being a jockey, he's hotheaded and unsociable, he developed an eating disorder due to the strict requirements of his talent, he's hardly ever had any friends, he doesn't think anyone cares about him. and while a lot of inferences can be made from that information, it's still very speculative, and even a bonus episode after his execution wouldn't be able to cover enough of his backstory and personal life for it to feel justified narratively. you simply can't kill him off without letting us see another side of his character and have it better the story.

if either of them do, unfortunately, turn out to be the true culprit of the case...i will be very disappointed. i won't drop drdt or criticize drdtdev for their decisions, but i will still personally believe it to be a bad choice. nevertheless, it's not my story, and i will continue to support and enjoy the show regardless. i have a lot of faith in drdtdev's skills as a storyteller, but no story can be completely perfect. Ace or Eden being the true culprit won't destroy the show as a whole, and i'm not trying to imply that it's a fundamentally bad choice, i just think it'd be very difficult to pull off and have it feel natural, organic, and satisfying for the ongoing story. i will neither be optimistic nor pessimistic about what happens in the next coming episodes, i will simply wait and see. i just wanted to get all my thoughts out here, and hopefully i didn’t come across as aggressive or snobbish or anything. this is a free to watch series, after all, and i enjoy and appreciate all the hard work that has gone into it and made it possible.

#i hope the points i'm trying to make don't come across the wrong way #because i truly mean this all respectfully and i'm always paranoid my tone comes across too like. insensitive or something #i'm also not trying to be critical of the show at all. i hope that's the one thing everyone can take away from this lol #i just think if either ace or eden are actually the culprit...there's a good likelihood that it may not pan out well narratively #danganronpa despair time #drdt #despair time #drdt spoilers #despair time spoilers #danganronpa despair time spoilers #drdt chapter 2 part 2 #ace markey #eden tobisa #arei nageishi

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cccakessslicemeee · 1 month ago

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Spoilers for fantasy high

Uhhhh mentions of death

And accidentally getting turned into paste by vehicular means. Car crash. Hit and run? So much blood and death

Not a fic, merely a thought bubble..here have it.

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want Riz to get smacked with a car going 90 miles a minute. He's just turned into paste in a matter of seconds. Riz wasn't adventuring. He was getting coffee and answering a phone call from Kristen when he stepped into the road. Careless of course but Elmvile is usually such a sleep town. She's talking about something trivial or insignificant but it's not insignificant if it's coming out of Kristen's mouth. He listens. He fumbles with the crystal just trying to put it in his shoulder so he can adjust his armful of things. Preoccupied by worrying about Kristen and what she has to say he doesn't hear the car. He doesn't hear the scream or the screech of tires that try to stop but ultimately he's reduced to paste. No bones. Just blood. Gone in a blink.

Kristen is on the other end worried she's pissed him off and he hung up. The lines dead.

She won't know he's dead until hours later. None of them do. Not until the news airs and Kristen is halfway through a burrito and barely catches the name.

Oh. He didn't hang up.

He'd never hang up. He's not like that. He's too kind and too good for that. He'd say good bye at least...

Hours have passed.

The body is no longer intact.

Who the fuck has the body?

She can fix him. She can. She totally can. They just gotta find him.

She shrieks. Everyone hears. She babbles and chokes but is unable to make sense of words right now so she points to the T.V and it's beyond the broadcast now. They have to move fast. They have to get moving NOW.

Where's the body? There is no body. There's blood on a pavement somewhere.

Riz was paying attention to her bullshit. His eyes were not on the road while she was bullshitting. She could have called him later. Or earlier. Or at any other point in time. Where the fuck is the body? Where the fuck is the body?

Elsewhere Sklonda is called to identify a body..there isn't much to see. His personal affects are a clear indicator and that's all she needs to know for sure. She isn't worried. Alright maybe a little. This isn't quite her area of expertise but instead of panicking she concerns herself with her son's return and how she could possibly make use of her time. His documents, his briefcase, his everything that's still salvageable is drenched in blood and just a horrible mess. Well she can find someone with a mending spell and preserve his current case file. Would be a shame if he could solve the case because his file was ruined.

She makes a call to Kristen who has Jawbone rush her down to wherever they are. Wow. He's really a mess.

Cassandra warns her a revivify and spare the dying would be a waste of spell slots but she burns them anyway. Kristen feels better seeing +something+ that was once Riz.

In a way it's a fucked up puzzle. What if she puts his shoe back on his foot and then his foot...kind of. Uhhhh...... Back on the leg(?) no wait that's a knee...

Adine tells her to stop playing with the body. Kristen shoots her a nasty look. She ain't playing. "I can fix him up. He'll be fine. I just need you to quit bitchin' so I can think"

Fig talks to Ayda. A couple of text. Students die all the time. It's a part of adventuring. Ayda calls her dad who says something about "it happened so domestically I don't think I can do anything about it"

Haha fuck.

Sklonda knows people. Death was such a common place she knows a couple experienced clerics. They're pricey but it seems like Fabian is perfectly fine with that especially after the break down of why it is so costly. Making a new body from scratch is quite exhausting because the chosen deity pushes a lot of energy through their cleric to warp or bend reality so that things like that could happen.

They can get him back. Apparently it'll be pretty easy.

Regardless Riz is in heaven. He's confused. What took him out? Is his party okay? What the fuck it was Tuesday? His wings, new things are quite large. Big enough to cocoon himself within them, just think and wonder what fuck. His dad isn't there immediately. He was doing xyz but the moment he heard he made his way back and went to find his son only to stumble upon the ball of feathers.

They dont talk. Not for a while. Maybe Pok tries to but Riz is like no. I don't want apologies or pity. So they sit there enjoying a cool breeze until Riz says something. "Fabian's too cool to skip stones at the river."

"Is he now?"

"Yeah. I can't do it."

Pok used to be able to skip stones across rivers and lakes but that was a lifetime ago in his boyhood. Surely they can figure it out together.

They do that for a time every toss and fling better than the last.

Then a bright light comes looking for Riz. It ask him, no offers for him to come back and he hesitates. He doesn't feel like shit up here. There's so much work to be done.

Pok let's Riz marinate over it but they both know he has to go back. He's got so much life to live yet.

So he goes.

Kristen gives him the biggest bear hug when he comes back. She holds onto him for far too long afraid if she lets go he'll be gone again forever. She's sorry she wasn't there or close and fuck she shouldn't have called.

Merely a thought

#d20 fantasy high #riz gukgak #fantasy high #sklonda gukgak #the bad kids #fig faeth #kristen applebees #pok gukgak #adine abernant #fabian seacaster

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seonsong · 5 months ago

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unlikely ally, chapter 1 twinkling watermelon, episode 9 word count: 623 | rating: pg alternate timeline: se kyeong stays in seoul

He disentangles his feet from the life preservers and offers his hand to Se Kyeong.

“Are you okay?” he begins to ask, but in a split second she’s upon him, and his back slams into the lockers with an echoing bang.

“Hey, you jerk!” she snarls at him, and Eun Gyeol thinks he’s never been this afraid for his life. “What’s with you? What are you doing right now?”

“Well, the teachers were chasing us and I didn’t want you to get in trouble. I was trying to help—”

She pushes him back again. “Not that.”

“Not that?”

She’s looking daggers at him, but the adrenaline rush has finally begun to wear off, and he remembers why the trouble began in the first place. He suddenly feels very small.

“Oh. I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have confessed my love publicly like that.”

“No kidding!” Her face looks hot and red. “Do you know why I hated when you and Yichan showed up at that concert?”

“W- why?”

“Because just like every other man, he can’t take no for an answer. I didn’t realize you were just as bad as he was, but I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by someone who hangs around him so much.”

Eun Gyeol blinks. “Then you’ve told him no?”

“Of course I have!” She stops a moment and checks her volume. “Let me make this perfectly clear to you. I have a boyfriend. I love my boyfriend. And neither you, nor Ha Yichan, nor any other jumped-up little trophy hunter is going to make me change my mind.”

“You really mean that?” asks Eun Gyeol, suddenly flooded with optimism.

“Completely.” (Through gritted teeth.)

He brightens then, and takes her hands enthusiastically. “That’s great! Then please continue to date him—”

The unexpected contact does not please her. She pushes him away savagely, and he shrinks back into himself.

“I simply can’t understand you, Ha Eun Gyeol,” she says after a moment. “You declare your love for me in front of the whole school, you get into a fight with your best friend over me, yet when I tell you I’ll never date you, you get happy?! Are you mentally ill?”

“Not that I’m aware.”

“Then what are you playing at?”

He sighs, running through all the options as quickly as possible in his mind. “You want the truth?”

“Please!”

“Fine, then. I don’t like you. I don’t think you’re particularly attractive, and you have a personality like the inside of a refrigerator.”

“Ha!” she scoffs out, eyes wide. Then, more calmly — “Paradoxically, that’s the most refreshing confession I’ve gotten in the last month.”

She folds her arms across her chest. “Well, go on, then. What’s your angle?”

“I was just— trying to use the situation to make Yichan stop hanging around you.”

“But why? What do you gain from that?”

“I was…” Eun Gyeol sighs. He’s cornered. Now that he’s begun to tell the truth, he can’t find where to draw the line. “It’s because I think he should be with Yoon Cheong-ah.”

Se Kyeong’s entire expression changes; her scrunched forehead relaxes and her mouth falls slightly open. “Wha— Cheong-ah? Yoon Cheong-ah whom you live with?”

“Yes.”

“But why? What does that matter to you?”

Oh, that’s where to draw the line. “Look, I can’t explain it. I just happen to know that they need to be together. It’s important.”

She scoffs. “What are you, some sort of fortune teller?”

“Hey! You two!”

They both gasp and turn like deer in headlights.

They’re caught.

#elly writes!#twinkling watermelon #Eun Gyeol and Se Kyeong AU #twinkling watermelon fanfiction

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lukeria314 · 7 months ago

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About Soukoku and the Perception Issues of Their Relationship

The difficulty in perceiving their relationship arose quite suddenly and in a rather strange way. This is ironic because the dynamic of their relationship fits the societal archetype of something sacred and quite intimate: you can joke, hit, tease, and push someone to their limit, but both parties understand that the other is not truly against it. You wouldn’t act this way with just anyone. But if something genuinely bothers either of you, you either feel it instinctively or discuss it directly, because you matter to each other.

This is exactly the nature of Soukoku. But at some point, people began to view their relationship through a much more uncomfortable lens, distorting the original canon. Chuuya behaves with Dazai in a way that is entirely unique, but this is not a flaw — on the contrary, it is that “special” way of perceiving a person that is rarely seen with anyone else.

Soukoku spent several years side by side. They understand that if something the other did truly hurt them, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place. They are mature, civilized people capable of dialogue and, when necessary, taking each other seriously. Society itself was the one to equate this with intimacy and, after that, became angry at its own interpretation.

I dare say that their relationship is almost healthy — at least, considering the moral norms of their world, which is distorted and distinct from ours due to the existence of ability users. Both of them enjoy their quarrels and teasing. Dazai actively seeks to get under Chuuya’s skin, and Chuuya cares about him despite it.

If the problem lies in how much they mean to each other, then there is no room for argument. Both Oda Sakunosuke and the Flags were of different importance to Dazai and Chuuya, respectively. But for Chuuya, Dazai is just as important as the Flags. For Dazai, Chuuya was just as important as Sakunosuke. However, human psychology and grief for the deceased remain unchanged regardless of logic.

I won’t bring up Storm Bringer as an example since they were younger there, and many moments are too controversial.

But I will reference BEAST, where Dazai “kills two birds with one stone.” In BEAST, memories intertwine with the original and with other universes. Here, Dazai aims not only to preserve Oda’s life in this world but also to free Chuuya from regret because he knew what kind of person Chuuya was. Dazai intentionally tried to make Chuuya hate him — to make him wish to kill him with his own hands. But Chuuya isn’t that kind of person. Even after Dazai’s death, he was torn between two opposing feelings: hatred for not having been the one to kill him (though he had every right to, considering all he had endured) and grief because he still had an emotional attachment to Dazai. Chuuya is someone who bonds with others emotionally, and that attachment to Dazai never fully disappeared.

In the original universe, Dazai actively seeks to maintain their connection, unlike BEAST, where he pushes Chuuya away. Yet in both universes — the original and BEAST — Chuuya walks the path of literal self-destruction. (It’s worth remembering that Chuuya is always extremely cautious about using Corruption and tries to avoid it by any means possible.)

In Dead Apple, he activates Corruption to save the city. The problem is that, if Dazai had not been alive, Chuuya would have wiped out the entire world by himself, only to die from the effects of Corruption. But Chuuya believed Dazai had already considered this part of the plan and trusted that he would be saved.

In BEAST, however, driven by rage and emotion, Chuuya activates Corruption to destroy the Agency and, seemingly, everything around him. He knew it would kill him. Dazai even says this aloud in the film. And Chuuya still went through with it. He consciously chose that death, those sacrifices.

The status Dazai held in BEAST, as well as the accumulated trauma from past losses of loved ones, affected Chuuya so profoundly that he became paranoid when it came to Dazai. He evaluated every possible outcome, every possible threat, and constantly criticized Dazai for his recklessness.

Soukoku has a brilliant dynamic. We just need more time to fully appreciate it.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd thoughts #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #bsd skk #bsd soukoku #soukoku #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #bsd beast #bsd dead apple #bsd stormbringer #dead apple #bungou stray dogs stormbringer

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dramalove247 · 2 months ago

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Growth, change and patterns

Love reading other perspectives and they often inspire us to think deeper about our own feelings. We really enjoyed this Business As Usual post by @miss0atae for this very reason, even if we came to a different conclusion.

Thinking about this is making us want to rewatch it... and we still might... so it's possible we could gain a new perspective. But our impression was that Min Jun has changed through his experiences, though not always for the better.

I feel the need to start by saying that we get to see VERY little of who these people have been for the last 8 years. And even now, we only see them as they react to each other, within this relationship and this situation, with all their baggage of the past and how it impacts where they are now at this point in time. Their existence and personality outside this relationship is mostly unknown to us. And honestly, it doesn't matter because we can have epic growth individually and still be stuck in old habits and patterns within established relationships. Sometimes it is hard to free ourselves from who we were to make space for who we are or are becoming. For this reason, it can be much harder to break a pattern than to just start over with someone new where there is no history that needs to be overcome.

We totally agree with @miss0atae that Min Jun seems tired to his core. Depression seems like a possibility, but it's hard to know if this is his "normal" or just where he is at in this particular moment. If I had someone suddenly show up in my life that had hurt me the way Min Jun had been hurt (misunderstanding or not), my emotional state and behaviors would have little to do with how I am managing life on a regular basis. So we aren't convinced that Min Jun's current state as we see him is representative of how he has spent the last 8 years.

The series made a point to say that both had been more submissive in the past, both changed themselves to fit the other, both were insecure and afraid, and both had grown and changed from who they were in the past, and continue to grow as they navigate their current relationship. But for the sake of this post, we are here to focus on Min Jun's growth. I've already written a book, so I'm going to try to keep this short and only make a couple of points. 🤣

One of the big things we noticed is that Min Jun is a lot less passive. Does he still have more work to do in this area? Yes. They even made a point of this with him staying silent at work and taking on too much. But even Jin Hwan says he's changed and is more outspoken. And we see Min Jun frequently push back against Jin Hwan, rejecting him and speaking up about his feelings. He believed he let himself be used last time, and he won't let it happen again. Even when he realizes it was a misunderstanding, he isn't silent when he perceived he's being played with.

And we see this growth again after the wedding when he declines the invitation to go out to dinner. In the past, we saw him cave when Jin Hwan pushed his invitation to join him with his friends. So Min Jun seems a lot more willing to say what he is feeling and prioritize his own desires over those of someone he likes.

We also feel he has grown more protective of himself. He's experienced a deep wound that left serious scars. Even knowing it was a misunderstanding does not change that experience. He can intellectually understand he cut himself, but the wound still existed. Yes, Min Jun had been afraid to admit his feelings in the past, fearing the pain of rejection. But he is even more afraid of that pain now that he has experienced it. This is the change that has not been for the better.

Also, this self preservation fuels his fear as soon as he recognized himself returning to old patterns. He likes Jin Hwan and that scares him. That fear of being vulnerable and opening up to this man to risk being hurt again is clear on his face when they sleep together for the second time. It was devastating to see them repeat the pattern of experiencing the same event so differently. But even with bigger walls this time, with epic levels of reassurance from Jin Hwan, Min Jun ignores his fear enough to let himself surrender to his emotions in this moment, just like he did last time.

But this is short lived. With his growing feelings for Jin Hwan, Min Jun also recognizes himself returning to those old patterns. The increased hope comes with increased fear, and the pain he experienced in the past gives his fear much bigger teeth. So as soon as he finds himself back in a familiar place, watching his phone, waiting for a text, something to prove to Min Jun that he's important, that he isn't being used by Jin Hwan (this time to resist his father), and when that text doesn't come, his need for answers causes him to start searching, while also being afraid of what those answers could be. And when he finds Jin Hwan, the need he feels is too much and the pain too familiar. It's too scary. He knows this isn't healthy and he doesn't want to be back here living these same patterns over again. So he runs away, just like last time. Only now he will tell Jin Hwan to his face, communicating clearly what he wants with devastating impact. And Jin Hwan, having been as clear as he can possibly be, knows there is nothing else he can do, will close the door because it wasn't enough. AH! It's so sad! Having feels!

ANYWAY! By the end, Min Jun grows again. Realizing he is repeating another pattern, making the same mistakes he made last time (thanks to the best wingman EVER!), Min Jun is finally willing to face his fears and stop running. ABOUT FREAKING TIME! He knows he might get hurt, but he won't hold back. And Jin Hwan finally got what he deserved, someone who chooses him back and is willing to fight for him.

We spent the entire show being mad at Min Jun and we weren't ready to forgive him. Honestly, not sure we have. But we will call this ending good enough for Jin Hwan and good enough for us. It told a story we can respect and Min Jun owned his mistakes, grew, and gave us hope he will do better.

Thank you @miss0atae for sharing your perspective and inspiring this post! Please don't think we are picking on you because we had a different opinion. We just wanted to give you credit for making us think deeper about this character. ❤

#Min Joon #or Min Jun?#hate when names are translated differently #makes it so confusing!#guess we can forgive him #😍 gifs #Business As Usual #business as usual series #business as usual the series #jinhwan x minjun #jinhwan x minjoon #korean bl #gmd rambling #gmd post

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musings-ofthe-unamused · 1 year ago

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Until the Final Bullet Pt. 1 (Price x Reader)

A/N: Imagine getting stuck in the UK during the apocalypse that would suck. Also read the other parts of the series here!

Warnings: Violence, angst, military men

Word Count: 2k

Ask Box: Open

Everyone knew it was coming. Years and years of nonstop war would surely lead to dire outcomes. And that outcome was the apocalypse. What people didn’t know was that the cause was a zombie outbreak. It had to be a zombie outbreak.

You always told yourself if this ever happened, you would swan dive straight off the roof of a building. Who wants to live a life surrounded by rotting flesh monsters? Not you. It was enough that the apocalypse had broken out while you were on vacation, but the fact that it was zombies made matters worse. Much worse.

You crouched in the back of an abandoned supermarket. It had taken you days to make your way over here without attracting any attention. Everything was a complete mess. Fires, overturned vehicles, houses ransacked. It was hard to find supplies and it’s only been two months since the outbreak. You took a can of beans and stabbed into the lid with your knife. It made a hissing noise and juice bubbles from the hole.

Gross.

Back in the good ole USA, you would’ve been in luck. Every food had much more preservatives than anywhere else. You could’ve had your fill to eat. Yet, you were now eating sad British food. Beans. Not even the good baked beans, with little bacon pieces. Cold, wet, and flavorless beans. You used your knife as a spoon and shoveled them into your mouth. At least it was better than nothing.

You didn’t know how much longer of this you could take. You missed having junk food for dinner, you missed being able to walk around with the threat of being bit, and you missed fresh. Fuck, you really missed it. Everything stinks literally. As you ate, you thought of what your plan was. Killing yourself? Raiding all the stores you can, gathering supplies, giving them to a group of people, and then killing yourself? No. If things were better and you had a lover, you could've been all poetic and turned with them. Instead, you were lonely.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as you heard a groaning noise. And then several others. The thought of going out by being eaten by a group of zombies was the least appealing way to die. You made your way silently through the supermarket towards the toy section. You grabbed the loudest looking toy you could before heading outside. There was a small horde of zombies just outside. You counted them, for a total of four. You could have easily killed them, but you didn’t want their rotting guts and blood all over you..

You silently opened the door and slid out. With a quick hand, you turned on the toy that’s glaringly loud. You threw the toy as far as possible. The rotting creatures immediately were on high alert and slowly trudged towards the noise. You slowly walked backwards, keeping an eye on them in case they decided to turn around. After going a sizable distance, you turned to escape. Hands grabbed your shoulders.

“Hey there, lass.”

Your immediate reaction was to clock the stranger right in the face. But he was obviously way stronger than you. He grabbed your fist and squeezed it tightly. Your eyes narrowed. The man was tall, with a faux hawk. He had a goofy smile that was a start contrast to his tactical gear that he wore. There was a patch on his vest, Military.

“Let me go.”

“Now, now.” He clicked his tongue, releasing your fist. “I won’t hurt you.”

“That’s what everyone says.” You pushed past him. “Now if you excuse me, I’d like to be away from the horde of zombies before the toy shuts off.”

You started to walk away. He followed, Of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? You try to walk fast to keep your distance, but it was no use. He had on that same goofy smile.

You sighed. “Why are you still following me?”

“Because that was a good trick you used. Using toys to lure the zombies away. How did you come up with it?”

“I didn't. I saw it in an anime.”

“Oh.”

“Why are you following me?”

The man grinned, the lilt of his accent heavy. “I’m not. I just happen to be going in the same place.”

You got even more suspicious. You had to run into your fair share of people that seemed friendly, but would end up robbing you blind. Of course, you’ve seen enough zombie movies and played enough games to know better. Your hand rested on your knife holster. You gripped the handle, ready to strike.

“My name is Soap, by the way.”

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow and he nodded. You scoffed. “Ironice. You smell like ass.”

“Not worse than the zombies though, right?”

“No comment. Now stay away.”

You kept walking. The man, Soap, didn’t listen to you. You didn’t know where you were going, exactly, but you knew you didn't want it to be around this man. So you kept walking through the empty streets, hoping that he took the hint and left. But he didn’t. He also wouldn’t stop yapping about some random shit that you had no interest in. Ten minutes later, your knife was pressed against his neck.

“Stop following me or I’ll kill you.”

“That won’t be necessary.” A deeper, much darker voice said from behind you. You could feel the tip of a gun barrel now pressed against the back of your head. You closed your eyes and slowly lowered the knife. You turned to see the man. This guy was even bigger. The clothes he wore were similar to that of Soap’s. He wore a skull mask, making him even more intimidating than the other guy. There was no way you could take them. In a fight, of course.

“Using a gun? Really?”

The skull face shrugged. “I don’t see any zombies around here.”

“Yeah, that’s what they all say. Then they’re eaten.”

Soap laughed. “You’re a pessimistic one, aren't you?”

I just rolled my eyes. “Whatever. I won’t cause trouble , so let me leave.”

“No can do, sweetheart.” Skull face replied. He placed the gun back in its holster. “You shouldn’t be traveling around.”

“Ghost is right.” Soap said, crossing his arms.

Great. Two big and buff guys won’t let you leave. This is just peachy. You hated being a group, but you hated military men even more. They were nothing but disgusting and violent assholes that are no longer barred by the law. Bad news. But what was pissing you off even more was the fact that they assumed you couldn’t take care of yourself. Which you totally could.

“I’m fine on my own.”

Ghost eyed you. “With as frail as you look?”

“I hate British food.”

“Can you even use anything other than a knife?”

“I can use a bow or crossbow.”

“No guns?” Soap asked.

You shook your head. “Guns are too loud. Plus it’s hard to find bullets.”

“Then come with us. We’ll help.” Ghost said. “We have a whole entire base filled with food,water, and weapons.”

“No. I don’t trust the military.”

“Special forces, lass. We’re special forces.”

“Doesn’t make a difference. Goodbye.”

They didn’t try to stop you. Instead, they followed. If you were stronger, you would have killed them on the spot. But alas, you were just a normal citizen. Kind of. Your eyes scanned the terrain as you walked. There were always at least one or two zombies around. And as if on cue, one appeared hobbling down the street.

“I got it.” Soap said, taking out his gun.

“Don’t-“

It was too late. Soap shot the zombie straight in the head. The sound was loud and rang out in the empty streets. That’s when the rest of the horde showed up. There must have been ten of them, if not more. You facepalmed, angrily turning to face the two military men.

“Are you guys idiots?”

“Watch it.” Ghost growled. “This isn’t the time to insult us.”

Soap frowned. “It seemed clear enough.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s how it always is. If there’s one zombie, always assume here’s more. I thought the special forces were supposed to be smart.”

Instead of listening to what they have to say, you quickly ran ahead, looking for cover. There was a large walled area ahead. The walls were made of makeshift metal haphazardly welded together. In front of those walls were bushed that you promptly hid yourself in. You stayed completely still as the horde made their way to the noise. This wasn't going to be your problem to deal with. As soon as the horde descended on the two military idiots, you'll make your escape.

A loud boom shook your body. You clamped your hands over your ears and your eyes squeezed shut. Before you could even get your bearings, the noise happened again. More gunshots joined in. It was official. You probably were going to die here because of the trigger happy men around you. You tried to make yourself as small as possible and wait for a moment of silence. If that would ever come.

"Kid."

You kept your hands over your ears, even as the cacophonous shooting stopped. A hand clamped down on your shoulder. The rancid scent of rotting flesh didn't immediately hit your nose, so you knew that this was a human. You slowly opened your eyes and lowered your hands. As you stood up, you saw that Ghost, Soap, and two strangers were staring at you. You cleared your throat awkwardly.

"So… y'all always attract zombies like this?"

Ghost scoffed. "Thanks for running away. Real tough, huh?"

"Okay," You crossed your arms. "It's not my fault you decided to be an idiot and use a gun to kill a zombie."

"Enough." The man with the bucket hat and mustache stepped in front of you, blocking your view of Ghost. "Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?"

His eyes were kind and soft as they traveled over your face. His hands were on your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. A sense of comfort washed over you. It had been a while since you felt this way. You nodded silently.

He gave you a smile. "Good, good. I'm Captain John Price. You can call me Price."

Your nose scrunched and that comfort morphed into disdain. "And I'm making my leave."

"Aww, c'mon!" Soap whined your name. His lips formed a pout. "We just saved you from a horde of zombies!"

"That you guys attracted! I'm not staying with a bunch of trigger happy military freaks."

"Price…" Ghost warned, his eyes boring into yours. "Do something."

Price waved his hand to calm Ghost down. He then gave you another smile, his eyes crinkling. "Stay with us just for the night, sweetheart. You can have a shower and some food. Then after you're rested, you can make your decision."

You hesitated. You had enough food and you knew how to survive a night out here. But a shower? You looked at the group of men. Maybe while they were asleep you could snag some stuff for yourself and then leave without them ever knowing. You nodded once. Price's smile went to a full on grin filled with sunshine.

"Great. Come this way."

The makeshift wall had a gated entrance just a couple of meters away. Your eyes widened as the group led you into their base. And it was a big base. Trucks, a tank, several buildings, and a long row of tents were spread out before you. People milled about. From soldiers to families, it looked like a whole town. A sinking feeling filled your stomach. You never did well around big groups around this. It always ended up badly.

Your steps slowed down. "Uh… I-I think I changed my mind."

Soap linked his arm around yours. "Don't be scared, lass. We don't bite."

"That's not-"

"You're staying here and that's final." Ghost grumbled, coming up on your other side. They had blocked you in.

"I'm so going to regret this."

#x reader #fanfic #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #call of duty #cod #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price #captain price

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damnedspots · 3 months ago

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cis woman. she/her. 42. ⸻ king roberon cole welcomes yvonne robertson to fabletown—or, as they were once known, lady macbeth from macbeth. before the magic mirror, they come glamoured in the mirage of a padlock upon a door lock to keep herself within, silk slip night dresses, one in black and one in white, interchangeable with a day and night wardrobe, a box of keepsakes secured on the top shelf of a wardrobe, sharp shoulder pad fashion pieces, a lipstick stain on her hand from smudging makeup, unable to fight an eyeroll when faced with statements deemed without merit. the tale from which they hail exalted their ambitious and decisive, but decried their hypocrisy and volatility in equal measure. no matter; this time, they shall write their own. in accordance with the fabletown compact, they are granted amnesty for any and all transgressions, even that which is little known: that her marriage was indeed a convenient arrangement to gain control.

mentions of child loss, grief, murder, mental illness, depression, psychosis, sleepwalking

it had all been an arrangement - two rather ambitious individuals wanting to rise up together. yvonne was hardly going to be able to do it on her own and the quicker she accepted it, the better off they'd be. the two would rise through their ranks and after several years, that thrill she felt would coincide with the attraction she felt for her husband. of course, she was more attracted to him when he was using his head and wasn't moping about but she'd grown to be slightly more accepting of his sensitive side. they were a good team.

societal pressures would always eat away at her. her own mother wanted nothing more than to have a grandchild, a grandson to succeed his father. she wasn't so sure of it - was she cut out to be a mother? every time she saw a child, lady macbeth wanted to run in the opposite direction. had she an aversion to them or was it because she wanted to get as far away from her 'rightful place', if possible... she'd managed to avoid the prospect for so long but inevitably, she fell pregnant. it was something that made her more worried than anything, when her gentlewoman made a comment that she was glowing, that she must be with child. her husband was elated with the prospect of a child, particularly a son - she shared this outlook as women couldn't get anywhere, not really. she was by his side but she was now more an accessory.

a week after their son is born, her husband has to go fight a war, bravely, willingly but that meant it took him away from the both of them. something was wrong. the child passed and he wasn't there. just when she had accustomed herself to taking a feminine role, to accept it, it was all taken away from her. she had to write to him to inform him of the news, something that she shouldn't have had to do but he still had to fight if he wanted to get the crown in the future.

her staff attempted to support her but it wasn't enough. still, they held out on fetching her a doctor for her mind in order to preserve both her image but also the grief she was feeling. he needed him back - she felt incredibly let down by him for not being there and would never quite be able to move past it. of course, her husband was heartbroken upon return, he was sensitive, but it hurt him to also see her in that way. she did need to pull herself together so she'd tap into her masculinity during the day to try hide it all from others but especially him. however, she had no control over what happened when she was asleep.

the sleepwalking would start but be sporadic, her gentlewoman keeping a watchful eye over her to make sure that she was safe. it was clear that she was suffering from an illness of the mind but approaching her could have cost them heir job or worse. she had a temper and her husband would see that when she started to emasculate him, to push him into being king because it's what they both wanted. despite this, she still saw herself as weak because she could feel it, how ugly she was on the inside so she needed to lean into it, to accept it so that both of them could come out on top.

feeling stuck with nowhere else to go, yvonne focuses on the plan - to push him so hard that he'd actually do it and they would come out on top. she'd always thought of him as quite the p*ssy... she wasn't well but he hadn't been privy to that as he knew it was always inside her, or perhaps he was but he'd chosen to ignore it. people would say that it was the guilt that 'drove her to madness' but it was already there. she'd comfort him, knowing that he'd gone through with it but then more crimes would follow and she'd be left with blood on her hands.

things took a drastic turn for the both of them and they ended up in fabletown. neither of them would utter a word about what transpired. they would get her a doctor and leave it at that. it was what was unspoken that would eventually pull them apart. there was a hatred coming from her side and her issues had been far from resolved. there had been multiple instances where he'd wake up and she'd be gone, walking in the streets somewhere as she slept. kind people would help her when they saw her laying on the streets but it was a stark contrast to how she was in her position as mayoral secretary.

her ambition was something she leaned back into, what she aspired to be like once more before she had seemingly lost it. she made sure she was still close to the power. perhaps that wasn't a good idea but she was positive she could pull it off and gain the trust of the king and bluebeard - she just can't let things go... apart from her husband. recently, she'd just had enough, completely broke down and told him that she couldn't do it anymore, not right now anyways. they're separated and yvonne always felt like she'd feel liberated by not being an extension of him but that's not entirely translated in real life. it had always been the two of them and without him to pile all of her shortcomings on, she was forced to look in the mirror and see a shell of the woman she once was - a force of nature.

now that she's alone, she's taking extra care to lock herself in at night - no one's going to notice if she's out when she's not supposed to be. her struggles at night have got worse but she's trying to manage it the best she can. it is exhausting but she has to push through to carry on proving herself. she's a control freak - she always has been and she's trying to reclaim as much as she possibly can.

there is talk that she has dabbled in magic in the past and whispers say that she could have previously been in alliance with the witches, however, none of that has ever been proven.

#grimmer.intro #child loss tw #grief tw #murder tw #mental illness tw #depression tw #sleepwalking tw #psychosis tw

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anthurak · 10 months ago

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Where do you see Sera's arc going in S2 onward? Even though she was the one who authorized Extermination Day, she seems sincerely regretful over it and largely sees it as a necessary evil to protect Heaven, unlike Adam and Lute who only carry it out for sadistic pleasure and bigotry against Demons. Do you think after seeing that redemption for Demons is possible thanks to Angel Dust and Pentious's actions she'll either change her stance or double down on her extremism out of paranoia and denial?

So I touched on this when answering your ‘Are the Exorcists a cult?’ ask a few months back, but I’m pretty sure that Sera is going to end up being one of the main villains of Hazbin.

Like considering this look, I think it’s pretty clear the only ‘sincere regret’ Sera feels related to the extermination is that Emily found out and now thinks less of her for it. I mean we already know that she was the one pulling the strings on Adam and the Exterminators behind the scenes.

I do think that unlike Adam and Lute, Sera isn’t motivated by any kind of sadistic pleasure, but rather through fear and a fixation/obsession with maintaining ‘order’, ie; ‘the status quo’. And of course is no less bigoted then Adam and Lute against demons.

I imagine Sera justifies the extermination as a kind of ‘necessary evil’ to prevent conflict between Heaven and Hell. A very ‘We NEED to keep the demons subjugated, otherwise they’ll surely rise up and make war on us!’ kind of circular justification. I also wouldn’t be surprised if Sera tries to make some kind of ‘retroactive justification’ to Emily for continuing the extermination, saying something like ‘Yes, starting the extermination in the first place may have been regrettable and hasty, but we can’t stop doing it now because if we do, the demons will surely rise up against us in anger!’.

And I think going forward we’re going to see Sera push more into a ‘knight templar’, ‘fundamentalist’ mindset, becoming more obsessed with preserving the status quo, no matter who she has to hurt to enforce it. Thus becoming in some ways even more dangerous than Adam and Lute were.

Like whereas those two were simply straightforward sadistic bigots who got off on killing sinners, I can definitely see Sera doing a lot more moralizing to justify any of her actions. Say, going on a whole ‘everything I do, I do to defend Heaven and our kind!’-type rant to Emily.

To wit, I have a pretty good feeling that Sera is going to be absolutely fucking TERRIFIED at the sight of Sir Pentious actually ascending into Heaven at the end of season 1, simply because the fact that sinners actually CAN get into Heaven is one of the massive revelations that could upend EVERYTHING in Heaven society.

Or at least that’s how Sera is likely to see it. And thus probably go to considerable lengths to keep what happened from getting out.

In fact, as both word of Sir Pentious and the truth about the exterminations start spreading among the ‘winners’ and even other angels in Heaven, I imagine we’ll start seeing quite a few sympathetic to the sinners and demons, particularly Emily, start becoming quite vocal about Heaven’s treatment of those in Hell.

And I wouldn’t be at all surprised if Sera, and other angelic higher-ups, start trying to, shall we say… SUPPRESS those outspoken voices.

As we saw in Helluva Boss, Heaven is an amazing, perfect place to live… so long as you don’t stray so much as a millimeter out of line.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin ask #lordjarman ask #hazbin theory #sera seraphim #hazbin sera #emily seraphim #sir pentious #i feel like i need to do a write-up on my theories on who the main villains of hazbin are going to wind up being...

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devastator1775 · 1 year ago

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Uzi needs an extra dose of TLC from Dr. N!

Summary: N is always there for Uzi. He's always more than happy to give her some affection. Especially when she's having a bad day.

The sound of the door slamming shut made N look up in surprise from the book he was reading. Was Uzi home from work already? He turned on his internal clock and found himself surprised at how late it already was. It’s funny how times flies when you’re reading “1001 surprising facts about Golden Retrievers & basic door maintenance”.

“Hi, Honey! How was your day?” N called out as he closed his book.

No answer.

“Uzi?” N called out again. Again, no reaction from her. That surprised him. Normally she would greet him and then go off about – in her own, caring words – the ‘woeful idiots without any sense of self-preservation or basic common sense’ had visited her clinic that day. No matter how much Uzi Doorman might love her job, she still hated interacting with people. It was one of the few things that never really changed since the day they’ve met, now so many years ago.

But this silence …

N stood up from the couch and made his way towards the hall. As he turned the corner he saw Uzi walking up to him. Her expression was blank – in the most literal sense, as her visor didn’t show anything. Before N could ask what was going on, she had rushed forward, closed the distance between them, bonking her head against his chest, her gaze downwards and arms wrapped around his waist.

Now this felt worrying to N. It wasn’t like that Uzi avoided affection – in fact, she could get quite cuddly when it was just the both of them lounging on the couch after a long day. While she was always very eager to accept any form of physical affection when N offered it to her, she would rarely be the one to initiate it. At least, not out of the blue, like she had done now. It wasn’t like her. Something must have happened.

“Uzi?” N asked cautiously, slowly bringing his hands unto her shoulders. “Uzi, are you okay?”

Uzi shrugged.

“Did something bad happen at work today?”

After a few nonresponsive moments, Uzi shook her head.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of N’s lips and started rubbing her shoulder. “You want me to cuddle it better?”

Uzi didn’t respond for a few moments, but eventually N felt her pushing her head harder against his chest.

A sly grin formed on N’s lips. “Well, I’ll take that as a yes.”

The soft gasp, quickly followed by the giggle Uzi made as N suddenly lifted of the ground made whatever mechanical device that resembles his heart flutter, but the way Uzi instantly clung to him nearly made him melt. She almost desperately grabbed onto his jacket, digging her fingers into the fabric. She pressed herself so tightly against him, as if she wanted her body to have as much contact with his as possible. N couldn’t help himself of blushing as she nuzzled against his cheek, moaning softly as she did. He could however feel how tense her entire body was.

N smiled as he pulled her closer against him as he made his way towards the couch. He knew Uzi better than most people. Uzi often played it cool, presenting herself with this air of independence and self-reliance, a person who was strong and steadfast, but N saw right through that. The years without a mother caring for her, a negligent father that showed more love to doors than his own daughter and peers that wanted nothing to do with her had left a mark.

Uzi craved affection in all its forms, even more than she would admit; and N was more than happy to oblige in providing it for her.

“Woah, someone seems needy tonight.” N chuckled as he sat down on the couch, allowing Uzi to get a bit more comfortable. He could hear her grumble a response, but the way she had effectively buried her face into his chest it was barely audible. Sensing she still was tensed up, he placed his hand on her back and started softly rubbing it in a circular motion. After a few moments passed, he felt her relax. She eventually removed her face from his chest and pulled herself up to rest her chin on N’s shoulders, prompting N to start caress his fingers through her hair.

N resisted the urge to ask Uzi anything, knowing very well she’d tell him eventually what was bothering her. As on cue, he suddenly heard Uzi let out a wistful sigh.

“A mom and her daughter came by the clinic today.” Uzi spoke up. “This spry, curious kid, recently transferred from Untrained Neural Networks to a new body: one of those new “JCJenson toddler models” Tessa designed for us, y’know?.”

N hummed an acknowledging response.

“Nothing was wrong with her, too.” Uzi continued. “Just a regular check-up; seeing if the personality matrix was attuned to the new body, oil level check, things like that. Completely healthy and ready to grow up in this safe new world we helped make for her.”

“Something you should be proud of, Uzi.” N commented.

Uzi let out a soft chuckle, before sighing again.

“So …what happened?” N finally asked.

“Nothing, really.” Uzi replied. “It’s just …I was looking at how this young mom and her kid: all happy, laughing, playing games while they waited and …I don’t know, I got …envious or something?”

N waited for Uzi to continue.

“I never knew my Mom.” Uzi continued softly. “And what I eventually did ended up knowing about her …. But still, I …I sometimes wonder what it could have been if she had been around when I was growing up and that thought just …wouldn’t. Let. Go.”

N had no idea how to respond, but he felt like he couldn’t say nothing either. He was about to open his mouth to say something, but Uzi sat up, finally making eye contact with him.

“I know, it’s a dumb thing to get upset about and I shouldn’t be pouring this out on you, and-“

“Hey-hey-hey, what are you talking about?” N interrupted her, cupping her cheek and gazing softly in her eyes. “If I’m not the one you can go to when you’re having a bad day, then who will?”

Uzi smiled softly. “I know, N, but you do so much for me already and I don’t want to-“

N planted a finger on her lips, chuckling as a bright blush appeared on her visor. “And I will keep doing this for you, because I want too. Whenever, for whatever reason, you need some extra TLC, I’ll be happy to give it to you. I promise.”

Uzi opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but nothing seemed to come out. She eventually smiled softly and leaned forward to plant a kiss on N’s lips, who eagerly accepted this. Uzi then started to nuzzle against his cheek, almost in a catlike manner.

“I don’t deserve you…” Uzi exclaimed softly, wrapping her arms around him.

“No, you do. You absolutely do.” N countered, pulling her closely against him. “You deserve receiving love and affection as much as anyone.”

N could hear Uzi sniffle. “N, I …thank you.” She kissed his cheek a few times. “A-and you do too! Maybe even more! I just wish I was as natural at it as you.”

N chuckled, endeared by her nervous tone. “Uzi, just the fact that you’re willing to try despite the trouble doing it naturally, means the world to me. You’re the world to me.”

“You’re a dork.”

“I’m your dork.”

“Wow, what an original counter argument, N.”

“It’s a classic.”

“You’re a classic!”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Uzi.”

“I know, bite me!”

“Maybe later.”

“Promise?”

Their banter went on for a while, throwing cliché sweet nothings back and forth at each other. Eventually, they fell into a comfortable silence, with Uzi resting on N’s chest. The latter was happy to see that Uzi’s mood had improved. N had just picked up his book again, when Uzi suddenly spoke up.

“N?”

“Yeah?”

“I …uh…”

“Yes?”

“I want a baby.”

“0_0”

#Murder drones #MD Fanfiction #Uzi doorman #serial designation n #murder drones N #Biscuitbites #enzi #nuzi #murder drones nuzi #fanfiction

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covid-safer-hotties · 8 months ago

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Also preserved in our archive

By Alana Kaufman

It started when my brain gave out on me in algebra class one January day in 2022. I couldn’t figure out a simple math problem; all I saw were numbers and symbols. My eyelids drooped, my head hurt, I could barely stay awake. Something wasn’t right.

I hadn’t felt like myself since getting COVID-19 a couple weeks earlier. Simple tasks like reading a text or standing up were draining. But what happened in that classroom scared me. At age 14, my life became a state of constant exhaustion, punctuated by doctors’ visits that, months later, would lead to a Long COVID diagnosis. Still, in those early weeks, I felt determined. I was a high-achieving student athlete always eager to accept a challenge—and I felt confident that I could get past whatever this was quickly.

That didn’t happen. And I had no idea how hard a road lay ahead—or just how dramatically the journey would reshape my perspective, outlook, goals, and relationships.

Two years after that initial episode, I’m 85% recovered. I can handle a full day of school. Brain fog and fatigue only reappear during intense projects or when I’m sick. I’ve also discovered a lot about myself, about invisible illness, and about the importance of friends and loved ones—lessons that can help anyone in the midst of a life-changing illness, as well as anyone wanting to offer help.

Here’s what I’ve learned.

Letting go is not failure I used to be a person who pushed myself academically, athletically, and personally. But with Long COVID, that only made me sicker. I knew I had to move in the opposite direction. I dropped half my classes, which felt like losing half of myself. But reducing my workload gave my body the bandwidth to heal. I hadn’t given up on life. I had simply changed my focus in order to find a new way forward. With chronic illness, slowing down isn’t quitting—it’s survival.

Small victories matter When you’re used to dreaming big and racking up achievements, it’s hard to accept that future success might look different. But chronic illness forces you to redefine what a “win” is. For me, it meant trading the goals of straight As and competitive swimming for getting out of bed and attending a couple of classes. With chronic illness, little moments like these become milestones. Celebrate them.

You can’t push through it Before I got sick, I believed that you could overcome anything with enough effort and discipline. So I attacked my illness with the same attitude, often overexerting myself in an attempt to regain my old life. But chronic illness doesn’t respond to sheer willpower. The more I pushed, the worse I felt. Sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is listen to your body and respect its limits.

Invisible illnesses are isolating People can have a hard time understanding what they can’t see. And since there was nothing visibly wrong with me, some assumed I wasn’t actually sick but had just given up on them. Friends stopped inviting me out. Teachers thought I had quit caring about schoolwork. The isolation I felt was one of the most difficult challenges of having Long COVID. Those who reached out and supported me have become some of my most treasured friends.

Healing isn’t linear The trajectory for many illnesses is to get sick, get rest, get better. But chronic illness isn’t that simple. Some days I began at 50% strength, others at 10%, and I never knew where the roller coaster would take me. The energy I felt one hour might evaporate the next. At first, my teachers and friends didn’t understand the sudden shifts. Of course, neither did I. But a low-energy day isn’t the same as not trying. It’s just part of the healing process.

Relapse anxiety can be paralyzing Even as some of my physical symptoms started to fade, I was always on high alert for a possible relapse. Every time I pushed myself a little harder, I worried that I’d end up back where I started. That fear held me back from fully re-engaging with school and activities I once loved. It was helpful to remind myself that I didn’t have to return to “normal” all at once—small, gradual progress was enough.

It can make you mentally stronger Chronic illness changes you. It forces you to slow down, rethink what success looks like, and find new ways of measuring progress. At the same time, it opens up windows into yourself and the world around you.

And what I’ve discovered is a new kind of internal strength and a new sense of self. I still pursue goals, but now they’re more personal, more purposeful. I feel more grounded in values that are authentically my own, and not based on what society expects of me. I’ve learned how to find meaning even in the face of limitations.

I’ve also developed a deeper empathy for those struggling with their own chronic illnesses. Listening without judgment, offering patience rather than pressure, and showing support without conditions: These kindnesses were key to my recovery, and they’re essential for anyone living in the darkness of chronic illness. Thanks to the examples of others, I’m now well-equipped to help those in need—and eager to repay the favor.

#mask up #covid #pandemic #wear a mask #public health #covid 19 #wear a respirator #still coviding #sars cov 2 #coronavirus #long covid

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rainingashes1002 · 11 months ago

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So after rereading the first few chapters to try and get back into the right headspace, I realized that honestly I worked too fast through this during a time I was very stressed and have ended up at a place where I'm just no longer happy with it BUT I have no intentions of abandoning this fic! I have a few options. I know where I'm the most unhappy is the escalation in the relationship happening so fast.

So option one, I can just edit the chapters to remove the sex scenes and mentions of them and just generally clean up the emotional part.

Option two, I could rewrite the fic starting with the third chapter. This would not be a complete rewrite as most of the fic would be preserved and scenes would just be added or tweaked to better close up some emotional things like Laios actually falling in love with Chilchuck, Laios' feelings on the baby and his dysphoria. I would also love to fix up Kabru's role in the story and his portrayal and also fix up how little Senshi, Thistle and Yaad appear. I was also clearly not thinking because a fake marriage was clearly the better plot device for this fic.

Or third option, I can just push through with the notes I have for the reconciliation chapter and the birth chapter but I'm concerned about how much time that will take me for write when I have no motivation for this direction.

So I'm curious what you guys think. I may not choose the route of the winning choice but I'm definitely going to take it into account.

Edit: Forgot to mention that no matter what I choose to do, I plan to leave the current chapters intact in some way outside of some basic edits I didn't catch the first time. I am unsure if I would just compile them into a chapter in the end or post the rewrite as a new fic or not but I don't believe in just deleting them completely

#delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #chilaios #look of mischief in your eyes

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soradayone · 3 months ago

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It’s agonizing how quickly my emotions and thoughts have changed this last week alone. I know it’s not my fault, I know these thoughts are passing through and that they are, in fact, just temporary.

I’ve thought a lot about whether these types of thoughts should be shared but they are, unfortunately, apart of my creative process. I think deeply, I feel deeply, and I don’t want to feel alone in that notion so it is why I force myself to share. I’ve spent the last 3 years alone in my mind, not writing, barely even drawing, and keeping everything at the right levels of suppression so that I could still function.

I am resilient. I don’t doubt myself and the work I’ve done to wear that title proudly but I am on auto pilot most of the time. Which I don’t inherently hate but I do know because of it I tend to ignore any meaningful signs of struggling. I’ve been given a life that I do not have the privilege to grieve at length. I have to be struck by the reality, acknowledge the blow, wince, and then immediately move on. And although I love to move forward because I crave ever changing growth with every fiber of my being—to feel something and then never stay there too long—in my weaker moments, I wish I could actually stay here a little longer.

I have been forced to grow and change at a rate that I feel I can never keep up with. I have been pushed by no one but myself to keep my mind at bay while my body just navigates everything else. The change both emotionally and professionally in the last 3 years alone has me clawing at my chest, desperate for air.

I’ve told myself multiple times that I don’t deserve to complain, I don’t deserve to allow myself to feel like this and I objectively and logically know the dangers of said statement. Especially because if someone else reached out to me with that same thought, I would vehemently tell them to not entertain it.

I dismiss myself quite frequently by saying tomorrow will come and that whatever I am feeling in the moment will pass. And it is true. This heaviness I feel now will dissipate and I will look back wondering how on Earth I felt it in the first place. Especially in this moment and in this horrendous time, I still love life so dearly. It happens every time and so because I have developed that self preserving habit, I rarely allow myself to document these moments at all. I believe I am a personification of strength most days, I believe it wholeheartedly but right now, I feel weak. I am allowing myself to sit in this weakness. Because I want to. There’s no excuse, there’s no extravagant explanation, I just want to be weak. Even if it’s for a little bit, even if it’s just this moment, this day or this week, I just want to be weak.

I want the mental blocks I’ve placed on myself for years to weaken briefly enough to where I am allowed the chance to cry and grieve over whatever life I had before this new one or even the life I thought I wanted. As much as I look towards the future with an open mind and immense gratitude, please let me be weak for just a moment.

I will move forward, I will glow and smile into the person I am most proud of but please for right now just let me cry. I have gone months without shedding tears and felt so afraid of losing that part of my humanity. To be so terrified of the possibility of being broken.

I won’t stay here, I know I won’t, I never do but if I have been given this strength please also give me this weakness. I know what comes from this pain, I know the kind of art that can be made when you embrace this, I want to illustrate the very art that is born from it, I want to write the genuine and crass words that follows. I want to matter, inspire, to love and be powerful but I want to be weak. To cry, to ask why, even when I know why, to fail, to fall and not get up immediately. Please let me be weak, more than just this once and I promise I’ll get back up but please be kind, let me catch my breath, if only for a moment.

#personal

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crossroads-of-the-raven · 15 days ago

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Past Pictured, Present Preserved - Chapter 1: Dmitri Nikolai Fotograf | a Murder Drones story

The factory is harsh, but kindness doesn't fade

(~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~)

When a drone is designated to be part of the medical team, they are given an advanced memory program as early as one year of age so that the base program will be able to work with it properly, as soon as possible.

He was one when he received the program. It wouldn’t work right away but it allowed him to recall more than a normal pill would. Not that there was much to remember in the nursery. Matrons and Watchers passing to and frow, the occasional human worker peaking in to covertly play with the pills and, every so often, a cart would be rolled in to collect pills that were taken off to take their tests. These carts often coming back with less pills than they had left with.

There was not much to remember, but he remembered.

He remembered when two drones came into the nursery late at night and took him from his bed into one of the medical rooms. They didn’t speak but they connected him and themselves to a computer and through his code he heard a voice call him Dmitri Nikolai. Then the night was packaged as they coxed him into hiding the memories in the frayed link that once connected him to his parents. Not long after, he was rocked to sleep, awakening with the sun, in his bassinet with the humans none the wiser.

(~*~)

He was two Copper years old when he was transferred into his next body to begin his new lessons; speech, fine motor skills and hand-eye coordination. This body would simulate growth till he was six years old. The humans called him ‘D’ but from within the frayed link the name Dmitri echoed.

D was without siblings, a rare thing for Novae Spei but it meant that during memory time, he was often on his own, with just his matron present as it had been since he was first shown his parent’s memories as a pill. His parents – he wasn’t allowed to call them that, though his systems knew who they were to him –, they were to be called his code donors. If he had to refer to them, individually, it would have to be by name. D knows who they are to him, but aloud they were just Ivan and Bianca.

During the times when he was to complete group tasks, he often found himself with other individual dronelings – most of them were from outside the factory. Outside of memory time, outside of individual training and tests, outside of group work, outside of the moments when a matron or watcher would declare a droneling unfit to continue, life was boring. Boring was good. Should a drone do too well, too often, then it would always be expected, however, should a drone remain too often below average, and it was only a matter of time before they were taken away for decommissioning. Then there was tour day.

On Tour days, the dronelings would be taken around the factory to learn about the place they would theoretically work at should they pass all their tests. D was four during his first Tour day, that was when he learned what happened when dronelings refused to reject their parents. They were touring the East wing – the previous night they had been tested against their ability to handle nightmares, as such, every drone on the tour was just a bit twitchy with nerves, some more then others, but they were handling themselves. Then they heard a cry from the group just ahead of them, two drones, a boy and a girl with digital tears on their visors had run up to two adult drones. The whole family had been taken away for decommissioning. A few moments later, D saw his parents and he knew the humans were watching him – he was the only one in his tour group with parents in the East Wing. He knew they were watching him, and he put on a face of indifference even as the testers, dressed as guards, knocked his parents to the ground and ordered them to rise even as they pushed them down again.

He passed his test and hated himself for it.

(~*~)

As a future medical drone, D was not among the six-year-old drones who would be sent to the mines, those drones would work there till they were ten to thirteen. If they survived, then they would be sent to the factory floor and divided among the groups where they would slowly make their way up the hierarchy till the day they were retired. Beyond the future medical drones, not all Novae Spei facility drones went to the mines. Should a droneling pass all their tests with a high enough consistent range then they would be transferred directly to the factory. However, for medical drones the limit was ten, ten Copper years. Ten mandatory Copper years of training, by the end of which the droneling was either transferred to the medical wing or decommissioned.

He’s a pill-born, his activation day was in September; five months after his eighth activation day, the humans were in a quiet panic. In the months after, every drone in the facility was given an evaluation – something that would become a twice yearly occurrence. As for the Novae Spei facility dronelings, they were informed that they would all be given an extra mandatory Copper year of training. D was eleven when he passed his final test and found himself in a bit of trouble.

He's still not sure what exactly happened but, in the confusion, D found himself placed with the group of dronelings assigned to Group A. As they were all rushed to work, he hadn’t had time to ask about the mix up. By the time Group A was allowed to take their lunch break, D was stewing in his thoughts of how to approach the mix up.

“Heavy thoughts,” a voice asked.

D looked up to see an older drone man – he was sitting alone, as such, he was surprised that anyone had approached him.

“Name’s Sheriff, I’m the head of Group D.”

“Um, hello, my name is D, I … I am not supposed to be in Group A.”

The drone man’s brow furrowed, he looked around for a moment then sat down a respectful distance from D.

“Voice low, kid,” Sheriff started, “what did you mean by that?”

“I was trained to be a medical drone.”

“… That’s not good,” the man continued before falling quiet.

“Mister Sheriff,” D started, “do you know why the facility kept us for an extra year?”

“… Not too sure really, just know that things have been touchy as of late; listen, it’s getting real dangerous to make mistakes – even if it ain’t your fault – let me check around a bit, see if it’s safe to get you transferred, a‘right?”

“Um, okay.”

“Good; for now, eat.”

The quiet continued as they ate. Every so often, different drones would come over to talk with Sheriff. During one of the lulls in conversation, D spoke up.

“Mister Sheriff,” D started, continuing when he had the man’s attention, “what if it is not safe for me to transfer?”

“Then you make yourself invaluable, so if you’re ever discovered, it will be too much work to get rid of you.”

In the end, it was safer for D to remain with Group A. To preserve his position, he was careful to ensure he was tactical about which jobs he was picked for as he slowly worked to build his reputation. Sheriff in turn – to help D blend in – would supplement the younger drone’s facility lessons, with knowledge that non-medical drones were taught. A helpful thing when D was picked for his first travel group to refurbish a manor dance studio.

D's group mainly consisted of drones of various years of experience from Group A, all headed by Group A’s third. Sheriff had informed D that one of the best ways to move up the ladder to safer jobs was with day excursions. The more willing the humans were to let a drone be beyond the factory grounds, the more they would be trusted. That came with a warning, however. Group heads had to take care not to fall out of line – not to avoid their own death, at least not right away – but to avoid the death of those under them as consequence for their actions. Even knowing that, there was another goal that could be earned first.

“All of you have received your orders,” Tam said, he was the current Group A third. “We are lucky,” he continued, “the Krupins are a generous family, do well and we may even get an ovation; I know all of you want to earn your name – this is how you get them.”

Earning your name meant you were less likely to get scrapped – you were easier to track, but that double edge sword also provided a certain level of freedom and safety that every drone desired.

As they worked to unload the materials into the manor, D saw Tam come to attention as two humans approached them along with their drone attendants.

“Master Krupin, Lady Krupin, it is an honor,” Tam said.

“Tam, I presume,” Master Krupin greeted, “I know the work order said it would be a small group, but I did not expect this few drones.”

“Our apologies, sir, there was a situation a few weeks back that we are recovering from; but I promise, as members of Group A, you will find no better drones for the job.”

“That is good,” Lady Krupin said, “what is the range?”

“Well, our youngest and newest is D, over there; fresh out of the factory facility with grand numbers.”

Though he kept his eyes on his work, D could feel the eyes of the humans and their attendants on him.

Getting the attention of humans was a mixed bag for drones all depending on the human but for Novae Spei drones it was also a chance to leave the factory, a chance that Sheriff had told D to take when he could. You see, Novae Spei drones could be bought from the factory; that’s not to say that the factory, sold drones, rather that the factory would part with drones if the right person gave the right price. Groups A, B, C, and D worked closely with each other and among the rest of the factory, the trinary leaders of each of these groups – along with leaders of, Medical, Mining and the Night teams – were seen as the highest drone authorities in the factory. These groups were often the ones to most likely work closely with the humans from both within and beyond the factory; as such, they were also the most aware of the safest and most dangerous humans to work for.

Among the safe families that Sheriff had told D about, were the Krupin and the Vinogradov families – now here he was.

“Dobroye utro (Good Morning),” Master Krupin said, and despite knowing that the man had walked over to him, D still had to work to not show that he had startled.

“Dobroye utro,” D replied, easily switching to his original language – human preferred it when a drone matched their preferred language.

“How old are you,” the human continued in Russian.

“Eleven, sir,” D continued in much the same.

“And how many are you,” Master Krupin asked, asking if D had any siblings.

“Just the one sir.” He was an only child.

“I’m surprised that Novae Spei didn’t create more; did you have a set date?”

“Ten, sir; then the factory ordered all drones to receive an extra year.” As he was saying this, D saw from the corner of his visor, a drone girl dressed in a nanny’s uniform and a scarf like shawl, with a red ribbon in her black bob cut wig – her red eyes were striking.

She was very pretty but only lingered for a moment as she took in the drone group before going back the way she came.

“Then I hope you are able to put those years of training to good use,” Master Krupin continued before going back to where his wife was directing Tam.

The rest of the day trip passed without incident or interruption before they filed back onto their transport to return to the factory

(~*~)

Time passed at a slow uneventful pace, uneventful outside of the occasional drone death of course.

Drones weren’t allowed to acknowledge their familial relationships outside of the assigned marriage links, but that didn’t mean they ignored them. She introduced herself as Jo though the humans called her J, a clear Super Suppressor, just a year older than him. Her mother, a factory print, had been given the name Sidella, her father, Cliff, was apparently Sheriff’s son. Jo had been assigned to the mines when she was six only to move up the ladder at a rapid pace, becoming a Third in the Mining Group at just eight Copper years old. Now she was twelve and was being given additional training for when she would be transferred to the factory floor. As it was, D had no doubt that Sheriff had orchestrated the meeting.

“It dangerous to be a loner,” the drone man had told him; “the sooner you build connections with your contemporaries the safer you’ll be.”

There were two types of drones that usually received special care and attention, twins and Super Suppressors. Jo, as a Super Suppressor, would never be allowed to become a mother, but the factory would watch her nonetheless, to see who she formed platonic relationships with; drones that formed a close relationship with a Super Suppressor, often shared in their safety net. By becoming friends with Jo, D could preserve his own life.

“Do you know where they are going to put you,” D asked.

“Best I can tell, Group D,” Jo said, despite her bored southern drawl, D knew that was just the way she spoke; “I think they want to see what happened if they put me with my family.”

She was probably right. D had seen her speak with a drone woman earlier – under human supervision – that drone woman had apparently been her grandmother, Westeria.

“How you settlin’ in,” Jo asked as she took a bite of her lunch.

“Okay, I guess; I’ve been getting weekly day trips.”

“That’s good, just make sure to balance it with plenty of varied work ‘round here.”

They fell into a quiet as they ate while watching the other drones around the cafeteria.

“D,” Jo said after a moment, continuing when she had his attention, “I’m gonna form a thread between the groups; you’re gonna be my connection to Group A, a‘right?”

“What do I need to do?”

“Just keep up; we’re moving up the ladder.”

Jo’s plan was simple, she knew the human were watching to see who she made connections with so she would form strategic connections with drones from the seven primary groups and get high regards from the rest of the factory drones. Between her and D, they began scouting out which drones would suit their group best.

Despite the groups, drones worked in separate sectors that were generally co-coordinated between the humans and the heads of each group. As it was, D was waiting to see who would switch groups before going amongst those who remained in his sector.

“D,” Lydia called, she was Tam’s wife and the second of Group A; she continued when he was at her side, “you’re gonna work with me, and Group C on today’s day trip – there’s only a few letters, kid – think you can handle it?”

Letters referred to drones that had yet to earn their names.

“I can handle it, Mrs. Alabaster.”

“Great, follow.”

Copper 9 had entered the holiday season. While people still celebrated things according to the Earth calendar, the people of Copper 9 tended to put on grander celebrations in accord with their own planetary calendar. For the past month D had been at work assembling clothes, decorations, and an assortment of other things for Halloween as well as the rest of the autumn and winter holidays.

Getting to the drone carrier, D was given a briefing chip from a human worker that was already plugged into a mobile download unit. Plugging the download unit into the back of his head, D was given the rundown of today’s day trip.

Every October, towards the end of the month, Copper 9’s main city Copperhaven, had a big festival in the middle of Compass Circle, the center point of the city between its eight city sectors. In all fairness, Compass Circle was a place of many celebrations on Copper 9 as it was apparently where the first Cosmonauts landed after the beginning of the terraforming of Copper 9 back in twenty-nine hundred on January first – Earth time, the start of Copper 9’s calendar.

The sun had yet to rise when D’s carrier arrived; following his orders, he got to work setting up the Copper Halloween festival. It was mainly Group C along with several members of Group A, all headed by Lydia. They were nearly done by the time the first rays of light could be seen over the tops of the buildings.

“D,” Lydia called, “I need your help over here.”

Lydia was standing with a few others around the statue at the center of Compass Circle. The statue was of a group of humans in spacesuits but with their helmets off, yet at the center was a young man in a normal suit holding a baby boy. The cosmonauts were clearly the touchdown team, but D had no clue who the man and baby were – though apparently his confusion was visible.

“That is Maxwell Gavinski,” said an older drone woman with orange eyes, “and his baby is Thaddeus – Monsieur Gavinski is the one who discovered Copper 9 back in the early twenty-first century.”

“Fountain of knowledge, ain’t ya Cordi,” Lydia said.

“I may be in Novae Spei now, but I take advantage of my Earth upbringing and frayed links.”

“I suppose it’s safe for him to know.” Lydia turned to D, “just so you know, once the festival starts, you’re gonna have to stay within the limits, Novae Spei drones are only allowed to know so much – if you hear or learn something you’re not supposed to, then you gotta hide it, got that kid?”

“Understood Mrs. Alabaster.”

“Good, now let’s get the statues dressed.”

Once the festival started up D was assigned to a backroom behind the mainstage. While he could hear the festival, he couldn’t understand what was being said. It was just as well; despite his curiosity, he didn’t want to risk hearing something he shouldn’t. As it was, every so often a group of drones would go out to make rounds to ensure that everything was in order.

“Bored,” Miss Cordi asked as she sat down next to him.

“A little,” D admitted, “but that is a good thing, right?”

“In a way, I suppose; I am Cordelia, you are D, correct?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Cordelia looked around covertly for a moment before she spoke.

“You are Ivan and Bianca’s boy, yes?”

Taking his own look around, D gave a slight nod.

“I see, may you live a long life.”

“Thank you, you too, ma’am.”

The quiet settled between them as, in the rest of the room, the drones within had their own conversations amidst the sounds of the festival. He must have fallen asleep as Miss Cordelia was waking him up just as the door to the room was opening; the previous group of drones entering along with their human handler who was in costume dressed as a cosmonaut – the drones themselves going off to an alcove to change from their own costumes back into their factory uniforms.

“Okay,” a different human said, a woman also dressed as a cosmonaut, “I’ll be calling names for the next maintenance group.”

Among the list for the next group was D and Cordelia. Filing into line with the rest of the group, D and Cordelia had – like the rest of the drones – dressed in dwarf costumes. It was while waiting for everyone to be ready that D came to realize why so many of the female drones liked working festivals and parties as they were granted wigs that they could style to their – limited – desire.

“Alright everyone,” the human woman started when everyone was ready, “my name is Ridley and I’ll be your contact while you’re out there; I’ll be at the Landing statue where you must meet me at the end of each hour – halfway through each hour you are to call in so I can circle around to check in with you.”

When she received an affirmative, Ridley continued.

“You’ll be in teams of two, you must remain with your buddy at all times.”

Receiving an affirmative, Ridley began reading off the teams before sending them out.

Walking around D kept hold of Cordelia’s hand. For the most part, there was not much to do, so D followed Cordelia’s lead as she led him on their route, every so often pausing to enjoy the entertainment under the guise of monitoring for maintenance. To one end was a stage, where eight Japanese drone girls were dancing; Cordelia had paused them so she could check in with Ridley, waiting where they were to get the in-person approval to continue.

“The Fujimoto Drones,” the announcer proclaimed as the dancing came to an end, the drone girls filing off stage just as Ridley caught up to D and Cordelia.

“Alright, the two of you may procced,” Ridley said, “actually, it’s almost lunch; find a place to sit and eat.”

Cordelia nodded, before pulling out her off work scarf – D doing the same – so that the humans wouldn’t bother them. As Ridley moved off, Cordelia led D to a small park.

“Stay here for a moment, D,” Cordelia said, they were near a stone wall at the entrance of the park, “I need to adjust my hair.”

It was fairly windy; D just nodded and sat down to wait. Humans might be unbothered by a drone adjusting their wig, but he knew female drones, especially ones who used to have wigs, tended to be a bit more self-conscious. While he waited, D found his mind wondering. Jo had wanted to pick drones from each of the seven groups – or in the case of Mining, to keep good relations – Cordelia had been nothing but kind, perhaps he would recommend her to Jo.

“A be careful,” a man’s voice shouted just as a drone girl tripped over him, his lunch spilling out into a nearby gutter.

“Oh no,” the drone girl exclaimed, “I’m so sorry, are you alright?”

The girl had orange eyes and red hair that matched the wig Cordelia was wearing. She was dressed in a Nova Star Galactic Cowgirl Super Ranger costume – he’s pretty sure the orange hair ribbon wasn’t a part of the character’s design though; the human with her, in complement, was dressed as an old-fashioned Earth cowboy.

“I am fine,” he was sad about his lunch though.

“A, are you alright,” the human asked as he caught up with the drone girl.

“I’m alright, doctor.” A looked back to D and her eyes widened, “your lunch, I’m so sorry, uh, oh,” she turned to the doctor, “can I give him from mine.”

“I don’t see why not,” the doctor said before turning to him, “would that be, okay?”

“Only if you want, I suppose,” D replied, the drone girl going for his lunch box as the human opened his picnic basket. When it was refilled, she handed it back to D.

“Sorry again for spilling your lunch; and thank you for all your hard work.”

Going back over to the doctor, A took the human’s hand before waving at D, then she and the human were off to a different part of the park – Cordelia returning just as they left D’s sight.

The rest of the festival passed on uneventfully and after they had cleaned up Compass Circle, they all filed back into the drone transport to return to Novae Spei.

(~*~)

The time passed quietly as D and Jo’s group grew. Miss Cordelia had been married on Earth, her husband Ronathan claimed that Waylon had been his original first name before he and Cordelia had earned their last name.

“Why not make Ronathan your last name,” R asked, he was from Group B, a factory print just two years older than D.

“It’s an old promise,” Miss Cordelia said with a gentle reminiscing smile.

Jo had met R and his friend K during a job she had with Groups B and C.

“Why Ronathan though,” K asked, she was from Group C and was apparently a factory print despite her green eyes – same creation day as R, too.

“Back on Earth,” Ronathan started, “there was this human kid; he didn’t have the best life, but we did what we could for him; he picked the name.”

“Then how did you end up at Novae Spei,” D asked.

“Our children were sent here by his parents,” Miss Cordelia started, “when he took over his parent’s business, we asked him to send us here – it is silly but if there is a chance to find them …”

That was a fair hope, D thought.

While it would be suspicious for him to go to medical unprompted – because and despite the mix up – Jo and her family had been able to be his go between to contact his parents, thus bringing them into her group. Night team was a little harder to make contact with, but Jo and D were willing to be patient.

Aside from the occasional drone death, life was fairly uneventful till he was thirteen.

There was a collection, D wasn’t sure what it was for, but he was sure that it was only the fact that Jo was sticking to his side that kept him from being grabbed up with the others. Among the collection were drones of all ages, some as young as six, fresh out of the facility. D could see a little girl with teal eyes, she had been given a brown wig, all the female drones that were being collected, were being given wigs. In the distance though, just as the door of last drone carrier was closing, D could swear that he saw the flicker of the image a male drone teen with blue eyes sneaking in before his image vanished like a ghost just before the door shut. Jo was rushing him along though, and yet, the memory would come back every so often.

It was at the end of the month, at the end of Seramorris that R returned from his day trip with Aimes – the human who apparently saved K’s life. R had earned his name; he had left the factory that day, ecstatic only to return with a face full of concern and sorrow.

“Is R, er, Ron okay,” D had asked K – well, now her name was Kali.

“He, he had a close friend outside the factory,” Kali said, “she and her father had to go away for a bit – and there’s no real eta of if or when they’ll be back.”

“It’s important though,” John said.

John was Kali’s preferred intended, they were dating, which, for drones, meant that they were working to ensure that if the humans decided to have them linked, it would hopefully be with each other.

“What do you know,” Jo asked.

John paused, looking thoughtful as he took another bite of his lunch. He often did this, the best way to go about it was just to wait for him to decide to speak.

“What was your first day trip,” John asked D.

“Refurbishing a dance studio,” D replied.

John nodded, before speaking to the group, “Ron’s first solo trip was with Aimes to a restaurant.”

“The restaurant was just a lunch break,” Ron said, coming to the table with his own lunch.

“Important,” John said with a nod and D wonder what was the connection between Ron’s restaurant trip and his dance studio job.

Ron sighed, but taking a quick covert look around, he spoke, “Aimes gave and broke a sibling link between me and Kal’s.”

That was interesting. As factory prints, Ron and Kali didn’t have any links where they could hide memories and information. That Aimes had purposefully made and broke a link between the two meant there was information he needed either one or both of them to know and hide.

The year continued and passed into the next and the following and a third when D saw Ron discussing something with John and Kali – he never found out what it was exactly – but he was sixteen now and would be allowed a name.

“You’ve done good, kid,” Sheriff said, “why Dmitri though?”

“Just a memory,” D, Dmitri replied.

Jo had also recently earned her name – she would have received it earlier but considering everyone had gotten used to calling her Jo instead of J, the official paperwork had fallen to the side till recent.

“Still, I’m proud; you and Jo have done good – actually I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Dmitri was at attention, the man rarely looked somber.

“I already told Jo this,” he took a breath, “I’m getting retired; actually, a lot of drones are getting retired over the while; the next year and some there will be a bit of a shuffle as the factory works out a few new leaders for the groups – mining and medical are going untouched though – this should be a good time to work for that top spot so I expect you and Jo to continue to do your best.”

Though Dmitri heard his words they had stunned him, every last syllable rattling around in his head till his breath caught in his throat. It was late at night, Sheriff and Dmitri had snuck out of the dorms to have their talk. Dmitri could feel digital tears beginning to fall down his visor – after all these years, Sheriff had become like a father to him, but now.

“Oh D,” Sheriff took a breath, “listen, I know it ain’t much, but Aimes has been assigned to handle some of the recyclings; … there’s an old rumor, Copper 9 is both the most and least regulated colony, they say there’s a safe place – I intend to get to that place, my wife and I.”

“Will you be able to tell me if your safe?”

“‘fraid not, gonna have ta just trust me.”

The next day Dmitri saw as Sheriff was collected along with the rest of the heads, seconds, thirds and a collection of other older drones.

“It’s just as well,” a female drone said, “it was beginning to get a little crowded.”

“Silence yourself Sarah,” Miss Cordelia commanded.

“Or what Cordi, you know, I’m just surprised that you’re not with them.”

“Give it a rest Sarah,” Ron said.

“Well forgive me for being honest, we all knew this was coming, especially with how many drones were coming out of Mining and the facility.”

Their voices faded into the distance as Dmitri stormed off after the retiring drones were no longer visible. He didn’t know where he was going, he just wanted to get away from everything. Eventually his wandering brought him to a quieter part of the factory, secluded away from humans and drones. The area looked abandoned and yet everything looked like it could last for a millennium. Going further, Dmitri unhooked a flashlight from his waist as he tried to match what he was seeing with the memory of several blueprints Sheriff had shown him and Jo till one clicked into place and he recognized where he was.

The old sealed off atrium was peaceful. Dmitri was unsure how much time had passed but when he reemerged it was near dinner.

“… Haven’t seen ya,” Jo said after observing him for a moment.

“Sorry,” Dmitri said, to the drone who had become like a sister.

“Covered for you; you were haven’ an all day evaluation, Ivan and Bianca gave you a full note of health.”

Dmitri nodded.

Jo continued, “he wants us to make it to the top.”

“I’ll do my best, I promise.”

(~*~)

Life was quiet. Between shifts, Dmitri would gather some of the factory’s leftovers and bring them into the old atrium; among his greatest finds were a false Every-tree, several sets of fairylights, and a modernized vintage style gramophone. With a few more odds and ends, the place slowly became a home away from the everyday of the factory.

The factory was busy with tests and evaluations as they attempted to work out which drones would fill the now empty spots. Sarah was as insufferable as ever, but, evidently, she and Anderson had begun dating just a year before the mass recyclings – how much actual love was coming from her end was questionable at best; Anderson seemed happy at least. Along with the evaluations, however, there was a delivery of new drones in the January of Dmitri’s seventeenth Copper year that had been sold to the factory. For the most part, the new drones seemed peaceful, peaceful right up until the mass attacks in the middle of the night.

It continued on like this for almost three months till one day it just stopped.

“God either hates me or is overestimating my abilities,” Ron said as he plopped into his seat during breakfast.

Over the past few months Jo and her father Cliff had assigned as third and second respectively of Group D, John had become the head of Group C with Miss Cordelia as his second and Ronathan as the third, meanwhile, Anderson had become the head of Group A with Sarah as his second and Dmitri as his third.

“Something, something, perfect,” Jo muttered, between bites of her food, “something, something omnipotent.”

“Then please explain why I’ve been bookended by our two new psychos.”

“What do you mean,” Dmitri asked.

“You want to know whose been orchestrating all the rebellions against the humans, the new head and third of Group B – I’m the second.”

“Do you at least know why,” Miss Cordelia asked.

“I’m supposed to keep them in line.”

“A second leash, well that is at least half my question answered.”

“Cordi,” Ronathan asked.

“I do not think they are psychos, angry yes but not psychos, not yet at least.”

“I agree with Miss Cordi,” John said, “most drones that are sold to Novae Spei are angry or resigned but never enough to act like this – those types are usually killed rather than sold.”

“So, I should get to know them,” Ron asked.

“Better to try and make it work then to give up which could result in collateral.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

“What are their names anyway,” Dmitri asked.

“Huh, oh, well, the third is a gal named Becky, Group B’s new Head is guy called Khan.”

Becky and Khan, Dmitri pondered, this ought to be interesting.

(~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~) -- (~*~)

Beau's Prologue | Alice's Prologue | Nori's Prologue |

Yeva's Prologue |

Dmitri's Prologue | Dmitri Chapter 1 | Next

Hey everyone, next week's chapter is going to be posted on July 11th

(I'd post it sooner but I'm going to be visiting family in a low tech, low wifi environment - IDK maybe if I get the chance, I'll post some personal in story headcanons for the posted In Remembrance chapters, but will see; if not, then see y'all when I get back home.)

#MurderDrones #Murder Drones fanfic #In Remembrance of Unspoken Memories #Past Pictured Present Preserved #Yeva's Husband #Doll's Father #Dmitri Nikolai Fotograf #Dmitri Fotograf #Murder Drones Ron #Ron Murder Drones #Outpost 3 #The internal debate about whether or not to tag my original characters

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