#not genocide yet the bosses are HARD

[st4ngray]

Let justice be done.

Also some sketches but I’m not particularly proud of them so hiding them in read more-

[number-1-kuaidul-fanboy]

Which final antagonist (Bakura/Zorc, Nightshroud, Z-one, Don Thousand, Z-arc, or Ai) was your favorite or do you find most compelling?

Getting this ask made me realise that I don’t actually like any of the final antagonists that much apart from Ai and sort of Darkness. But I'm gonna talk about them anyways because I enjoy doing these all series posts and declaring which series did the best at a particular element. Because yes. All series. I’m a Bridge era fan so I’m including Otes from Sevens. Though no one from Go Rush since we don’t know who the final antagonist will be yet. This is also a long one (3 pages long in Google Docs) with spoilers and critique for every series so I'll put the wall of text under a read more:

Zorc is boring. I have nothing else to add.

He’s just a giant monster for the heroes to defeat with no personality. Which is perfectly fine for the story but not very interesting on its own as a character.

Bakura meanwhile upsets me.

It's not because he’s necessarily a bad character though. It's because of how the narrative treats him, and the fact that his story has elements that I find incredibly problematic and upsetting. I am not saying Bakura was right for wanting to destroy the world, let me make that clear. I am saying that the narrative of a villain who the narrative deems as irredeemably evil and “must die” having the backstory of his entire village being murdered before his eyes as a child to in order to create weapons of mass destruction for the corrupt monarchy who ordered genocide on said village in the first place because everyone in it was “pure evil” and thus “deserved it anyways” is a narrative that I raise an eyebrow at. And if anything, it felt pointless to throw on. Bakura would have been completely serviceable as just pure evil with no backstory for me. He would’ve lacked substance on his own, but the way he was built up throughout the series and affected the other characters, like some later villains I’m gonna discuss, would have been compelling enough to at least be serviceable. This backstory though just adds all this complexity that the anime clearly wasn’t equipped to handle and in my opinion, fumbled completely. I still enjoy the final arc overall but THIS is one of those things that bothers me the more and more I think about and feels like an instance of the writers not realising their implications. Which as a writer myself, absolutely can happen by accident. I am not accusing anyone on the writing team of anything malicious here. But as a result of this, Bakura's character to me, especially as someone who doesn’t go back to the OG Duel Monsters that often, is unfortunately just tied to this issue for me.

Nightshroud, or Darkness as I know him in the sub meanwhile, is probably the most effective villain to me out of this set.

He's just a pure evil monster so again like Zorc, I'm not interested in him as a character but as a being of pure evil who represents and spreads all the terrible things in the world he works well. Also the impact he has on the characters, especially in season 4 where Sho, Asuka, and Manjome are essentially torturing themselves with their own graduations anxieties in Darkness's world is one I find to be incredibly compelling. So Darkness as a character is not interesting but what he represents and the effect he has on the other characters is very compelling, as is the Judai vs Darkness duel of season 4 which is subjectively, my favourite final boss duel of the franchise.

Z-One is huge missed potential.

I think even the die hard 5Ds fans agree on that one. He was initially set up to be this older jaded version of Yusei from the future who had to turn to more destructive methods to save the world and that concept, as much as I famously do not like time travel, is GREAT. It’s the same plot The Lego Movie 2 later did, in my opinion, to great effect. But 5Ds chickened out of this amazing concept. They couldn’t commit to making Z-One that future version of Yusei (who wouldn’t exist after the ultimate ending of 5Ds anyways so it wouldn’t have even destroyed Yusei’s character) and instead just someone who looks like him which is not nearly as interesting. So. Z-One. Great concept that 5Ds chickened out of. The duel itself was decent though and a good finale to Ark Cradle, if just for Yusei on a flying motorcycle.

Don Thousand is certainly a guy who exists.

He’s kind of like Darkness but without the profound impact on the other characters or any representation of a deeper concept. The way he uses Vector is mildly investing and the way he twisted the Barians’ lives to lead to them becoming his pawns is very interesting and pretty much the sort of thing I want Studio Bridge to do with the Creator and the Velgearians in Go Rush come to think of it but anyways, back on topic. Other than those elements, Don Thousand feels a bit underdeveloped and is ultimately just there to be this big bad that all three warring factions of the show: Earth, Barianworld, and Astralworld, put aside their differences to defeat which is really cool conceptually and it's a fun duel so I can forgive Don Thousand being boring on his own.

Z-Arc’s god awful overly long duel is my villain origin story.

I like Zarc’s story in the flashbacks we see. I think conceptually he’s a great idea. So the honestly flat character we get in the duel, lacking all of the depth those flashbacks gave Zarc, was very disappointing. And the actual duel being so overly long drove me up a wall. Also de-aged baby Layra being a vessel for Zarc is one of the worst instances of a show, let alone Yugioh or even Arc V, committing character assassination that I’ve ever seen. Z-Arc is a great concept, and that scene of Yuya being able to relate to and understand him in the final duel is phenomenal, but the duel and the character in it is just terrible to me.

Ai by contrast to all these other guys is my favourite character in Yugioh VRAINS and definitely my favourite of the characters in this set by a wide margin.

I firmly believe Ai is a comic relief character done right as IN THE SUB he’s actually funny without taking away from the seriousness of any scene, while also being a character with depth, complexities, and motivations of his own outside of whatever the protagonist wants. His final duel with Playmaker is very emotionally impactful and definitely the objective best of these final boss duels, even if it isn’t exactly “fun” to rewatch due to how hard-hitting emotionally it is, and other problems I personally have with VRAINS that aren’t relevant to this discussion. Point is that the series set up the characters of and connection between Playmaker and Ai so well that by the time the series develops Ai into Playmaker's final opponent, it feels earned and the emotions really hit. Ai is just very well set up as the final antagonist in general. It’s potentially a surprise to the audience when he has his turn to villainy but it adds up with what the show presented us about his character beforehand. He’s well built up to. Unlike the next character-

Otes

Okay, that’s a bit misleading. I think there are sufficient hints before the finale to hint at Otes being a villain, and that it was a good idea on paper. The problem is how it happens. Pacing wise, it comes out of nowhere and unceremoniously cuts off another villain, Yuga Goha’s, arc, and not even through something that might be understandable like a duel. No. They duel and Yuga Goha DEFEATS Otes. And seemingly steals his memories to prevent him from being a problem. Only. Nope! Surprise! Otes is later revealed to be immune to the memory erasing effects of Monster Reborn because he apparently created the card (a revelation that may not even be true anymore) and kidnaps Yuga Goha, abruptly putting an end to his villainy to make way for Otes’s. Yuga Goha isn’t even brought back as a villain again later or made Otes’s underling or anything like that. His siblings, who he previously betrayed and stole memories from multiple times, just save him. That's a bit rushed, but it’s a nice moment so I can forgive it personally. My problem is that immediately afterwards, Yuga Goha simply agrees to join his siblings in their less relevant than the main cast’s contributions to defeat Otes, who by that point is left only a few episodes to be a full-blown villain. Yuga Goha and Otes would have both made great antagonists if it was paced better. But instead, Yuga Goha is suddenly shafted and redeemed (even if he still has a dark streak, it’s really only used comedically) at the speed of light and Otes barely gets any time to be a villain so they both just end up feeling like wasted potential. That said, Yuga vs Otes is a great duel, probably my favourite final boss duel in the franchise after Judai vs Darkness.

And that’s all the final bosses of every complete Yugioh anime so far. Overall I’d say that Z-Arc and Bakura are the only ones I don’t enjoy. Zorc is just a boring means to an end. Z-One and Otes (and Yuga Goha if you count him) had potential but while their duels are fun, they ultimately lacked substance. Don Thousand and Darkness are not characters, just means to an end but Don Thousand does his job serviceably and Darkness does his exceptionally well. And Ai is just the best one of this set in every single respect.

[cjauswrites]

dialogue-heavy clausten fic i wrote while scientists performed genetic experiments on me (PART TWO)

warning this one came out a lot longer and angstier than the first part

Read part one here!-

The couple would settle themselves amidst their banter, which left behind a far more comfortable silence than before. It was hard to believe that those two were adults in their mid 20s-- with Claus pushing 27-- with all of the playful back-and-forth bickering they'd do.

In that regard, they might as well have been schoolchildren.

And yet, there was Ninten, now handling a roll of gauze that he'd use to attentively patch up his lover's poor, damaged wing. Holding the draconic appendage as if it were the most priceless artifact in the world, one more precious than every speck of gold in King What's-his-pork's vault.

And there was Claus, allowing a commoner to so freely hold the most fragile and sensitive part of him. The commander's trust was one that belonged to no other.

"So," Ninten cleared his throat, yearning to break the silence between them with a question that had been nagging him ever since Claus showed up; "how'd it happen?"

"Huh?"

"Were you just flying here to see me, and a rebel shot at you? You had to be closeby, right? Otherwise you would've went to that guy... the- the donut guy. Your chimera doctor." The uncertain statement was punctuated with a lopsided shrug. "Because, like, if it's someone in the neighborhood, maybe it'll make the path here safer for you if I snitch on 'em."

Claus's lips didn't move to speak. The redhead's bony fingers would fidget with the pocket corners of his wrinkled cargo pants, black-painted nail scratching at the tightly-woven seams underneath the rough fabric.

"Wait. You... you didn't walk this far from home with a broken wing and a possible assassin on your tail just to visit me, right Claus?"

The commander ignored him once again, deliberately turning his head away.

"Claus."

"Fine," Claus threw his hands up in defeat, "I wasn't- I wasn't at home, but home would've... technically been a faster walk."

Of course he did. Ninten would dip his head with a deep sigh, cradling the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. "You know I love you, Claus, but you have to start getting medical treatment for things like this. I can't fix entire bulletwounds with my PSI."

"It seemed to work, kinda."

His boyfriend's casual, nonchalant attitude towards literally being shot was enough to make Ninten furrow his eyebrows. He let agitation seep into his voice, as much as he internally wished he wouldn't. "Your wing isn't a vital organ."

"Listen, I'm sorry," the soldier's voice was laced with a slight twinge of anxiety, "I don't like doctors, okay? I just.. If it happens again I'll find a home-remedy."

God. Ninten twitched at the mere thought of his boyfriend treating his next potentially-lethal bulletwound at home. His boyfriend, the man with no healing PSI. The one who-- though Ninten loved him-- could hardly even stitch up the holes in his own clothes. That boyfriend.

"And pray tell, what is a 'home-remedy' for a bulletwound to you, Claus? Gonna slap a few band-aids on it? Gonna crawl to your living quarters and drown it out, as usual?!" Ninten loudly drew in a deep, shaky breath to steady himself, giving a futile, short-lived effort to rein in his emotions. He brought his hands up to the sides of his head and rubbed away at his temples. "Y-You always do this thing-- where you put yourself in mortal danger and expect me to act like it's just another wacky tuesday. Oopsie-daisy, my genocidal boss almost caught me stealing oreos! Fucking oreos! But look sweetie, they're your favorite!-" Ninten interrupted his own tangent with an exasperated groan.

"You're lucky it's just your wing. I don't even know what I'd do if they hit your back, God forbid! Please, I'm begging you, just fucking go next time, I don't want to lose you!"

From the corner of his eye, Ninten watched his boyfriend's head sink into his quivering hands, with palms clasped over his eyes. The sight was enough to make his heart fall into the pit of his stomach like a rock in water. "Claus, I... I-I'm sorry. Fuck. It's okay."

"I just didn't want to go there again," Claus's voice muffled into his palms to somewhat veil the quaking in his words, or the way his voice would trail off like a dying flame. Unsure of what to do, Ninten would carefully extend his free hand to his boyfriend's tensed shoulder. The man flinched at the initial contact, but allowed his gentle touch to linger.

"He would've put me to sleep, Nint. For the stitches. I don't trust him not to... not to..."

Ninten swallowed despite the suffocating dryness of mouth, unsteady hand slowly looping another wad of gauze around Claus's injury. His body was plagued with an unending chill that froze him to his very core. "Not to...?" He replied in a gentle voice.

Oh, how the man wanted to tell everything. How he longed to spill the burdens of his life, along with countless tears, into Ninten's comforting shoulders, breathing his familiar scent in the sharp inhales between shaky sobs. But Claus dreaded that he'd said too much already. As secretive as he was-- as he needed to be-- he always had to halt himself from letting the words pour from him like floodwater from a broken dam.

The mere thought of Ninten being stripped of his treasured individuality, of his memories, his humanity, and ending up stranded in a near-meaningless life like his... he'd rather be despised by the man, if that was what it took, than allow that to happen.

"Not to.. Not to slip up. I'm deathly afraid of surgery." He'd expertly mask his emotions in his words, telling himself that it was all for Ninten's own good, telling himself whatever it took to kwep himself from looking back. His pale hands fell to the blankets he was sitting on and he allowed his fingers to curl tightly around the soft fabric, as if they subconsciously longed to grasp at his boyfriend's shirt.

Ninten simply gave a low hum at first.

"Claus... I'm so sorry. F-For yelling at you. I'm truly sorry." Ninten began in a gentle tone. Claus held his breath. "But still, I promise you'll be alright. He's a doctor for a good reason. From what I hear, a prestigious one at that. People praise the ground he walks on like he's the next Albert Einstein."

"Ah... wait, who?"

Ninten squeaked. A brief wave of panic flashed over his features as he was forced to recall where he was. "Aha, some guy, don't worry about it!" His hand waved dismissively. "My- my point is, he's brilliant. You're in good hands."

Good hands. It took every atom in Claus's body not to loudly refute that statement.

"You and your obscure references," Claus's sentence, against his will, trailed into a long yawn, and he'd lock his fingers together and stretch his arms above his head until he felt a satisfying pop in his shoulders. "Geek."

"Yeah, yeah." Ninten shot the other an amused smile. "Tired, sunshine?"

"Oh? Y-Yeah. I am. It's been one hell of a day." As he brought his arms down, the soldier lazily rubbed his weary eyes. As his panic had faded and awareness slowly took its place, the fact would set in that Ninten had completed wrapped his wound. "Hey, my wing feels a ton better. How's it look?"

"After a few PK lifeups and some basic first aid, not too bad! I'd say it'll be back to normal by tomorrow, but you should still take a bus to work." He reached up from where he'd been working and gave Claus a firm-yet-gentle pat on his upper back. "Speaking of work, it's late. We oughta get to bed."

"Late," Claus mumbled the word back to himself in thought. "God, I-- I hogged up your night, didn't I?"

"You didn't, hun. I've got nothing else going on tonight, with the power being out." Ninten would hold out an index finger and, using his telekinesis, toss Claus a thin, comfortable t-shirt he had folded atop his cluttered desk. It was a slightly-worn black tee with a penguin character on its frontside, a very Ninten choice in clothing, Claus noted.

"Your alien research?" In the middle of taking off his shirt, Claus remarked with a nodding gesture towards some erratic, barely-legible sticky notes Ninten had plastered all over his bedside wall.

"Bah, that junk can wait," Ninten replied, running a hand up through his tangled black hair, which he feared had started to look kind of gross. He felt drenched in sweat, but at the very least he could blame the lack of air circulation.

The redhead pulled Ninten's much-loved penguin shirt over his slim frame, loosely covering his battle-scarred upper body. Ninten's clothes were a little bigger than his, but Claus didn't mind the oversized fit they had on his figure. He'd discover a loose thread towards the end of the left sleeve and begin to fidget by rolling it around between his thumb and index finger.

"Well, I still feel bad. If the power's on in the morning I'll fix us some breakfast before we both head out." Ninten watched attentively as Claus reached two hands up behind his head, then freed his long, pumpkin-colored hair from the confines of the shirt's collar, shaking it out and letting the sea of loose ginger curls fall against his back. It wasn't often that Ninten got to see Claus with his hair down. Was it always that much curlier towards the bottom? Fuck. Ninten was weak.

"Awh!! You don't have to, really! You spoil me, Clausy." Ninten let out a giggle, the kind of high-pitched laugh he only let loose when he couldn't contain his glee. "But-- ah-- speaking of which, I do hope all the stuff in the fridge didn't spoil.."

"Have you opened it?" Claus turned to face his fellow law-breaker and rested his chin on his knuckles, yellowed eyes fixing on Ninten as he blinked to gain his focus in the dimly-lit room

"Absolutely not, but still. It's been off for a while."

"I'll figure it out, love." He cupped his human hand over Ninten's soft cheek, delicately brushing the pad of his thumb against the spot beneath his eye.

"Hah, thank you. You're the best." Ninten gave Claus a peck on his soft lips before the stubborn one could throw the compliment back. The rosy blush on his freckled face combined with the way his eyes seemed to enlarge themselves was priceless to Ninten.

Sharing Ninten's pathetic little bed had become routine for them despite the fact that it clearly lacked the space for two. Not that they minded one bit. After all, it only gave them a beyond cheesy excuse to cuddle up close and act sickeningly sweet to each other, their favorite passtime.

The bedframe gave a barely-audible creak of protest as Ninten would shift his weight to the left, leaning over and to put the dying candleflame out of its misery with one puff of air from his lips; the two were plunged into darkness as the ember wisped away into a thin ribbon of smoke.

"Mmgh, dark-" Claus complained. He aimlessly swiped a hand around in the inky blackness around him until it found Ninten's face, his scraggly little chin stubble making contact with the soldier's palm. Ninten hated how it refused to grow correctly, but Claus adored the way it looked, always holding his chin to carress the little hairs and always remarking how it tickled him between kisses.

"Right here, darling," Ninten locked his fingers, their texture a little rough from work, with the clumsy hand that had been sprawled over the frontside of his face.

Ninten scooted into the little free space next to Claus and snuggled up as close to the taller man as he possibly could, taking the opportunity to rest his head on his partner's chest once he found it. He could hear the soft hums and whirrs of machinery from within; a soothing source of white noise in an otherwise dead silence. As Ninten's warm presence filled the empty space beside him, the commander's arm snaked its way around his shoulder.

After Ninten closed his eyes for slumber, he felt Claus shift to rest his chin atop his fluffy mess of hair. He only wished that he could've showered before this. It wasn't too bad, since they both stunk of sweat, but it always embarrassed him whenever Claus would witness him not at peak performance.

"Night, Clausy."

"G'night, Nint. Love you."

"Love you too."

"... Hey, Nint?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you really upset about the oreos? Or was that just an in-the-moment thing?"

"I love oreos, you know I do. But I love you so much more. I just wanna see you safe, is all."

His gaze lifted from Claus's face to the mess of Post-Its on his wall, and he'd give himself a mental reminder to purchase more.

"Noted... I'm sorry. I'll try to be more cafeful from here on out, okay? And I'll... I'll start going to the doctor, too."

"That makes me really happy. Thank you."

The exchange was ended with a kiss planted on the top of Ninten's gross, smelly head. His face grew hot. How dare he.

There the two lovers settled into bed, in a loose-yet loving embrace, with each one's frame nestled comfortably into the other's; they'd learned all of the best ways to sleep on this mattress without needing to shove each other off or battle for space in their sleep. Claus was already drifting off to a much-needed peaceful slumber, one that Ninten wouldn't dare take from him despite the horde of questions clawing at his mind. He pondered that little lie he'd played along with. Regarding the government's top scientist.

'Scared he'll slip up', yeah, right... Andonuts, huh? I'll do some digging on the name. I swore I've heard it floating around before. Way back in the 80s, even. Does one of his ancestors work for the government?- Unless...

Ninten's thoughts drew on.

His gaze drifted up from Claus's face to the scattered stacks of Post-Its tacked to his bedroom wall, giving himself a mental reminder to purchase more.

rereading an hour later: i noticed a fUCKING MISTAKE WHERE tHE LAST LINE FROM THE FANFIC WAS RANDOMLY MOVED TO AN EARLIER SPOT. WHAT THE FUCK. HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN. IM LIVID. anyways i fixed it

[beevean]

Lanolin: Ha! Nobody can criticize my shitty behavior because I'm a woman!

Lenore: Preach it bestie!

Annette: Get on my level bitches!

Oh so you just want me to die? :^)

Well, Lanolin and Annette really are similar. They are hard to like, with abrasive personalities and quick to insult and demean, but they are catered to by the characters and narrative because... they are cool, I guess? With their honest mistakes that could make them interestingly flawed never acknowledged. Compare Whisper and Tangle still sticking to Lanolin's side after the Silver incident with Richter developing a crush over the woman who insulted him for his lack of magic, which is directly tied to his trauma.

Well, Annette hasn't physically assaulted her friends yet. That makes her just a little bit better than Lanolin.

But which is worse: being solely defined by your trauma, or not having a trauma that could explain why you're such an asshole? :P

I'll give Lenore that at the very least, she was written to be a villain at first. You are meant to find her awful, even if in a "oh she's so cool when she plays Hector like a recorder, manipulate me into slavery too mommy <3" way. And then S4 forcibly sanitizes her so that we forget all of her crimes lol. But it's not quite the same thing.

Now, Alucard being the biggest turbo cunt to Trevor for no good reason, and Sypha justifying him because he has Bad Depression, unlike Trevor who has Funny Depression... now that's more in line with the other two. Which shows it's not about sexism.

(although yes I have read people say that it's sexist to genuinely hate Carmilla and Lenore to then stan for Dracula and Isaac. I do see their point, in a way - they all suck lmao. I think the difference is that Carmilla and especially Lenore hit too close at home to be liked even in a fictional sense, much like the assholes I mentioned above. A genocidal monster is hard to encounter IRL, and while they sadly exist they feel distant, they are menaces more than people; but pricks who believe they can boss you around without repercussions and lying abusers are everywhere in the world, sadly)

[trans-advice]

I'm a newly hatched egg and something I'm struggling with is I had a mom who was very supportive of the lgbtq+ until it came to her own kid. Like she had butch lesbians and femme gays as friends and I could talk to her about Elliot Page and Caitlyn Jenner transitioning. She even constantly told me it was fine if I was a lesbian. But whenever I would express my gender dysphoria to her, she would always shut it down with "it was always my dream to have a daughter" and "i kept having kids until I had a daughter". She put so much pressure on me to be more femme, to wear more makeup, to put on perfume, to wear dresses and skirts.

I also feel dumb for letting it affect me so much because I cut contact with her years ago for other reasons so why am I letting it bother me so much? And idk who to talk to about this and I feel dumb for bringing it up when there are people whose families are way worse than mine. I can't afford therapy.

Idk i'm just so confused.

1: your mother basically told you get entire relationship with you, including pregnancy, (including introducing you to her friends) was a relationship where you were constantly dehumanized & objectified the entire time, like waiting for a candy egg with pink paint to come out of a candy machine.

2: part of your self esteem as a trans person was seeing realistic examples of queerness via your mom's butch lesbian & femme gay friends.

3: the strictness of the gender binary reinforces the boss-worker heirarchy your mother had with you her child. This is why she felt so comfortable telling you that she ordered a girl as if you were a server who gave her a wrong item from the restaurant kitchen. Then, when she sees that doesn't get her anywhere, she does conversion torture on you, basically treating you like a piece of food on a restaurant plate that she has to fix the seasoning herself, whether it's like removing mushrooms or scraping meat or adding sweet 'n low to a stir fry dish. She's never recognizing that you & your body are not a product to consume. She never recognized your right to bodily autonomy. (To say the least of it, I do mean there's probably more bugs under those unturned stones.)

Point being, part of seeing living, actually existing, realistic, queer adults, is part of building our self esteem. By the way, realistic transition goals is part of building positive self esteem in general. (This is why TDOV in March was developed by trans people, because we didn't trust cis people to help us back then, and we wanted to combat genocidal narratives that lied about our prevalence & life outcomes.) And so your mom's queerbaiting anti-trans conduct hits hard because now you've found out that you need new role models (other than the ones your mom gave you), in order to build your self-esteem with, which will shake some expectations you had for your own life for a while until at least you make more pro-trans lgbtqia+ friends to help you secure your bearings.

Like I'm going to also be blunt here too and I'm going to say that your mom probably would've abused your girlfriends in a similar way she abused you because she would've seen them as yet another candy egg covered in pink paint. So yeah, it's good to keep no-contact with your mom, especially to help protect your new support network including yourself.

Good Luck, Peace & Love,

Eve

[ask-the-six-human-souls]

💛 Spoilers for Undertale Yellow ahead! (If you don't want to be spoiled, don't read this!!) 💛

Alright so, I ended up playing Undertale Yellow for myself and I beat the pacifist route just now and...gosh...IT WAS AWESOME (And really sad ;U;)

Anyway, someone asked me what my thoughts were on the game and so I thought I'd make a post about the things I really liked about/thoughts I had throughout the game! Here we go!

First off, music and graphics were AWESOME I loved it all so much! New Home and some of the other areas were so memorizing to go through cause of just how beautiful the art of the game was! And the music was really catchy!

One thing that was really interesting to me about the game- I just be rlly bad at the battling system but- its the fact of how hard the pacifist run was. Like, in Undertale, the pacifist run was hard for certain bosses- but in Undertale Yellow I dreaded even running into some of the enemies because of how frustrating there bullets could be. The Guardener robot fight I did like probably 20+ times!! I was getting do frustrated at these things that I honestly almost thought about ruining my route and fighting these bosses/enemies to make it easier. Thats just interesting to me...especially with how many ppl have the same interpretation that the Justice soul fought and possibly dusted many monsters.

The ending was really surprising...but, it made lots of sense! I was totally expecting that Clover would fight Asgore...but he didn't. It makes me reflect on Justin's backstory a lot...him and Clover went to the Underground for the same reason, but, unlike Clover, Justin was kinda already blinded by anger halfway through...he realized his purpose for going down there was in vain, just like Clover had, but, he had no one to keep him calm or 'distract' him like Clover had. Unless you count Chara but...yeah...

I'm really glad they added that message at the end..."You hear someone cry for help. You answer their call." I assume thats a reference to the Flowey fight and it makes me happy that added that in. :3

Thats all the thoughts I can think of rn...but feel free to ask me about my thoughts on things I might have missed. I've done no secrets, and I haven't done the genocide route yet, but I plan on it like...possibly right now. Rip...just when I got the good ending...

I might make a post when I finish the genocide route, but we'll see!!

[razistoricharka]

most people hate managers and their boss, most people do not hate their neighbors, yet it's so hard to convince them to want to genocide the former and so easy to do so for the latter. it doesn't add up, why is convincing most of the population to care about meaningless identity politics so easy over something as tangible as class which every single human being experiences every single day and engages in class dynamics for most of waking life if they're gainfully employed?

[jomiddlemarch]

We are never ever getting back together

“Listen, ‘Mione, I’m just going to say it. We don’t work, love,” Ron announced, sitting on the armchair he’d dragged over to face the sofa in what was generally referred to as Hermione’s reading room at Grimmauld Place, in that it was the old library which she’d spent roughly a week scouring, sorting, and reshelving the books that hadn’t tried to bite or burn her Muggle-born hands. She’d Transfigured some of the uglier pieces of furniture from other rooms and made an approximated mash-up of her favorite parts of the Hogwarts Library and the Bodleian. She’d reached a détente with the only portrait that remained, some wizard ancestor of Sirius’s who could at least tolerate a witch with an appreciation for old runes who hadn’t tried to chuck the moldy lot of Hagalaz into the fireplace and who arranged a reading pedestal with an open book to alleviate the boredom of the past two hundred years. She had a bedroom on the third floor, down the hall from the bath, but she was most often found tucked up in a corner of the reading room, so it hadn’t taken any genius on Ron’s part to beard her in her den, so to speak.

The rest of the house was empty, which was either a wise precaution or the stupidest decision he’d ever made in his life.

“What do you mean?” Hermione said, trying to keep her voice even. “I don’t understand—”

“Yes, you do,” he said, looking up at her. He’d picked the chair with the low, squashy seat, that hadn’t taken the Transfiguration especially well, so that she’d focused on the nap of the dark velvet and let the springs go hang. It made him a supplicant, now, which she supposed was a canny decision, one she might expect from someone who was a grandmaster at Wizard chess. “You know and you and I both know you’d never say a word if it was left to you. We’d be married seventy years with a dozen curly-haired ginger grandchildren, and you’d sacrifice everything rather than say it.”

“You don’t want me,” Hermione said. He’d taken Padma to the Yule Ball and he’d left her with Harry when they were hunting Horcruxes—why was she surprised? It still felt like a Bludger to the chest or what she imagined one would be, having had no interest in playing Quidditch for the duration of her Hogwarts education and then having been forbidden (ha!) by Madame Pomfrey after Dolohov’s near-fatal curse in the Department of Mysteries. She tried to focus on Ron’s blue eyes, the furrow in his broad forehead. 

“You don’t want me, love,” Ron said. “I don’t want you to start calling me Ronald in that carefully not-exasperated-yet-totally-exasperated tone, bossing me about like you’re Molly Weasley Junior. I don’t want to squabble and fight and then be those people who are contemptuous or bored with each other. You’ll never walk away, you’re too loyal, not just to me but to the idea of us, and you can’t bear that it was a mistake. Your ideas got us through the War, saved everyone’s bloody lives, but this one’s wrong.”

“A mistake,” Hermione repeated. 

“Well, not a mistake. It made sense to try but it was only meant to be a date or two for us, don’t you think?” Ron said, giving her a wry smile. He needed a shave and a haircut and he’d put on a stone of pure muscle once they’d won the final battle. He was a man looking up at her and she was bedraggled and thin, a streak of white in her chestnut curls like a virgin priestess’s filet. The sleeves of her jersey flopped over her wrists to her knuckles. “Don’t take it so hard, it’s not your fault.”

“Seems like it is,” she muttered. “If you’re breaking up with me.”

“You know better than that,” Ron said. “Think about it—if we hadn’t been dealing with the possible end of the Wizarding world as we know if and the annihilation of the entire Muggle-born and Muggle population—”

“It’s called genocide, Ron,” she put in. He rolled his eyes.

“Fine, if we hadn’t been dealing with all that and the genocide and you having to hide your parents, et cetera, if it had been normal, we would have gone out a few times. A Hogsmeade weekend, a dance, a walk around the lake. We would have snogged without having to break it off to face down a melagomaniac—”

“Megalomaniac,” she corrected.

“Bloody Riddle. Anyway, we could have tried it out and seen that all there was was a flicker of attraction but mostly friendship,” Ron said. “I like you, ‘Mione, and I think you like me. That’s enough. We don’t have to be this perfect love story and you know we won’t be.”

“You have to work at relationships,” Hermione said.

“Not this bloody hard, love,” Ron said. The kindness in his voice was too close to pity and it hurt. 

“There’s no need to be rude,” she snapped.

“I don’t mean you’re difficult and I’m a saint, far from it,” Ron laughed. “I mean, we’re alike in all the ways that make it hard and not alike in the ways we need. You don’t have to work this bloody hard, ‘Mione, to be happy with someone and I truly think that if you weren’t with me, you’d be able to find the person you want.”

“I suppose you have someone you want to be with instead of me,” she said.

“Nope,” he said. “I just want to a chance to figure it out. To play, to not have everything be so bloody serious. Everyone pairing off and repopulating the entire Wizarding world before we turn twenty-one, for sweet Circe’s sake.”

“Your mother won’t like that,” Hermione said.

“She can stuff it,” Ron declared. “Besides, Fleur’s up the duff again and this time it’s twins, so that’s her sorted for a bit. Bill has his work cut out arguing that Shell Cottage can hold all of them and they don’t need to move closer to the Burrow. Plus, I think Ginny’s going to sign with the Harpies and Mum is up in arms about the first Weasley witch not to sit her NEWTs in like a thousand years, which is bosh because there weren’t NEWTs a thousand years ago.”

Hermione smiled. He was right, she did like him an awful lot, when the other parts weren’t clamoring for her attention or generally getting in the way.

“I’m right about that last bit, aren’t I?” Ron said. “The NEWTs bit?”

“Yes, they’re more recent than a thousand years,” Hermione said. She squared her shoulders and pressed her lips together. She had to like it or lump it and it seemed like lump it was the easier option at the moment.

“I don’t want you thinking it’s because I don’t find you attractive,” Ron said. He laid one big hand on her denim covered knee where her robes had fallen apart and she felt how warm he was. “Thinking about shagging you and then getting to do it were quite honestly the only things getting me through the worst of it these past few years. It’s why I left, innit, when the Horcrux was messing with me, being jealous, thinking you were with Harry when I wanted you all for myself. But that’s not going to be enough for us, for you or for me—”

“I’m to believe you’re being sincere?” Hermione asked. Ron grinned, squeezed her knee and the bit of her thigh that was right above it.

“I got there on my own about not being enough for you. George caught me moping, gave me some older brother advice and general whatfor, telling me I was a twit for thinking getting to shag the brightest witch of our time would be enough for me, that I wasn’t as shallow as that and to buck up,” Ron admitted.

“I would have thought Bill,” Hermione said.

“Nah, I wouldn’t have taken him seriously,” Ron said. “He married a half-Veela, what does he know about being with a regular witch? For the record and before you get your knickers in a twist, I’d say the same about Hagrid, it’s not anti-creature bias.”

“Seems to me you shouldn’t be mentioning my knickers,” Hermione retorted.

“That’s my girl,” Ron replied. “Though, my entire point was that I am quite enticed by your knickers and what’s in them. It’s just not enough for a long-term relationship and you and I, we aren’t made for a fling.”

“If we were, I think we must have flung it by now anyway,” Hermione said.

“We do have the house to ourselves if you’re interested in a last hurrah, love,” Ron said, waggling his eyebrows and smiling. It was the look in his eyes, an appreciative lust, that told her he wasn’t joking.

“And what would you do if I called your bluff and took you up on the offer?” Hermione asked.

“This,” he said, both hands suddenly at her waist, lifting her off the couch and onto his lap. “I’d have my way with you and give you something to remember me by while that git Draco works through a whatchamacallit redemption arc and gets up the gumption to make a move—”

“Draco Malfoy?” Hermione exclaimed. She ended up wrapping her arms around Ron’s neck to keep her balance. His were steady at her hips.

“He fancies you, that’s obvious,” Ron said. “But it is a two-way street. Maybe you’d prefer our snakeslayer Neville? He’s got a whole striding the windswept moors thing these days that’s rather dashing, like that Heath Ledger bloke you told me about in the Muggle book, but without the creepy parts. Or Zabini? Never took the Mark and he’s nearly as clever as you and mad fit.”

“You mean Heathcliff from Wuthering Heights, who’s frankly not much like Neville in a good way. This is a very odd conversation to be having with my ex-boyfriend-and-undeclared-fiancé,” Hermione said. She left out how it was even odder than they appeared to be on the verge of shagging, as if that was something one could be on the verge of. 

“That’s why it’s best we’re about to be best friends,” Ron said, though the word friends was lost a little as he nuzzled the side of her neck. “I’ll have to cede all the filthy details to Ginny though. You can just give me the broad strokes, hm-mm, like that…”

It was all rather a blur after that, hands and lips and Ron muttering about how her skin felt like silk and a grand tussle over denims being pulled off and not Vanished, not this pair which he agreed made her arse look amazing, and she probably would have blushed to recall it afterward anyway, but Harry walking in, stopping dead in his tracks like he’d been hit with Petrificus Totalus, then choking out “You were breaking up—” before he fled the room made her almost wish she had not taken an iron-clad vow against ever using an Obliviate again. 

“He’ll get over it,” Ron said calmly enough after they’d finished, laughing madly like they were drunk on Firewhisky and not multiple orgasms. 

“And if he doesn’t?” Hermione said.

“You leave that to me, love. That’s what friends are for,” Ron said.

[laurelnose]

like. tfw you’re mathematically predestined for damnation and trying to make the utilitarianist best of it and then your ███ saves your life in a way that is so morally repugnant to you that you somehow end up shacking up with Mr. All-Caps I Love Genocide because he’s got an idea that will save your entire species from hell

tfw you’re the most senior scientist left because everyone else fucking died, including your boss because of information you gave him that turned out to be incomplete, and you’re struggling with a contagious infocancer with vectors that are opaque to you and one of your people is exposed, but she’s not showing symptoms yet and if you tell anyone they’ll fucking murder her, and you love her, and how far is too far to go to contain a threat like this?

tfw you’re isolated from your home and people and struggling to maintain a normal social life because of the trauma of something heinous you were forced to do as a child and an alien crashlands in your bathroom and tells you, we’re soulmates, serendura, our destinies are intertwined, I need to obtain a weapon that will save your species from enslavement and you’re the only who can help me because our souls match, oh btw mine is ontologically evil. jsyk.

tfw you and your best friend since childhood start an organization to do extrajudicial murder of people who will never face normal justice together but he does way more extrajudicial murder than you thought he was going to, so you expose him to his wife, your other best friend from childhood, and she dumps both of you forever, so now it’s just you and him, locked together, you hate him, you love him, you can’t let him do anything as evil as that ever again, don’t think too hard about the part that you did

tfw an alien shows up in your office and says do exactly what I tell you or I’m destroying the entire fucking planet, and you’re like, well, fuck, okay, I may have to commit some true atrocities, but there’s nothing that can possibly be worse than the extinction of humanity, and it never even occurs to you that you could have bargained with him before selling out Earth until it’s almost too late

[itsprobablybetteroffthatway]

My mental health has been not so good lately!! I’ve been dealing with processing some childhood trauma and coming to terms with its role it plays in my life. And with the pummeling one major world event one after another: the next steps in multiple genocides, devastating hurricane, then another one, record breaking heat waves, flooding in the Sahara, videos of Palestinians being brutally murdered on our very screens. It’s all too much. I lay awake at night thinking about it all.

And then the Palestinians that are reaching out to us on tumblr. Because it is their last resort, their last hope. It’s chilling. I am frozen in my tracks. I can’t make consistent donations as my work has been very very slow. Paying rent the past month was terrifying, I barely scraped it together. The shame I feel that not only am I having a hard time taking care of myself, all I can do for them is answer the messages, pass the links along in hopes that someone else can send money is astounding. I feel like I’ve stopped living my life. I don’t feel human. I go to work (when I have appointments scheduled), come home, try to eat, and just stare at my phone screen at the unfolding man made horrors beyond my wildest fears for hours.

But I am lucky. I have family in my area, I have a boss and a manager that are working with me to bring more people to my schedule. I have a partner that I plan to move in with by late winter/early spring of next year, which will cut a lot of my bills in half or at least by a third. I have clients that love my work and try their hardest to come see me at least once a month. I have loved ones that care about me and will want to help me if I were to ask.

So I need to figure out how to survive the next winter months, more mentally than anything. I just need to find the balance of caring and doing the work to help people, and taking care of myself and living. Because the world hasn’t ended yet. It’s horrible and awful and also it’s still here. I’m still here.

[tribal-chief-reigns]

This is just my personal opinion. Feel free to disagree with it and discuss it if you want :) but after finishing the Undertale Yellow Neutral route, (haven't gotten to the other two yet, might never do genocide :'D) I really do not like Ceroba and I'm going to find it hard to spare her when I get back to her boss fight. I find what she did to just be unforgivable despite what poor old Starlo says :^)

[ask-undercare]

Hey, I realized I never gave you the notes I made when making Undercare. So here’s all the info I wrote down, if ur interested:

* The humans cursed the monsters before putting them underground, making their overall health deteriorate. This leaves a lot of monsters with sicknesses, lower health, falling down, and in some cases dying. Boss monsters are more resilient to this, and are unlikely to get very ill.

* Both Frisk and Chara are in and out of the hospital a lot on the surface, mainly from getting hurt while adventuring, getting bullied, and overall it’s pretty easy for Chara to contract diseases. Yet the sicknesses that are spread underground doesn’t affect humans, although they don’t really know that. Therefore, the humans that fall underground can very easily take care of monsters without any risks. Although, it also means it’s easier to kill without any risks as well.

* Genocide route usually involves medical & stealth kills. Considering how huddled together and protected everyone is, it’s a little difficult to section them off and killing them without monsters stopping you before you can do anything. Most common way is to poison someone, either they die from how sick they get from the poison (can last days or weeks), or they die rather quickly (couple minutes-to a few hours).

* The monsters that nurse others have quite a lot of medical knowledge (at least medical knowledge about monsters, it’s probably different for humans considering they don’t have the same structure.) The helpers/nurses also know a lot about souls, (monsters specifically, since not that many humans come to the underground.) Although the higher ups like Undyne and Asgore know a little more about humans than the casual doctors.

* In genocide route, people assume there’s a mass sickness going around killing off monsters, only the ones who are suspicious/scared of humanity suspect Frisk of murder.

* Most people are in some type of protective wear, either for themselves or others. Some wear masks, although some don’t have to - since they cannot breathe in (or out) anything that can be contagious via air.

* Geno route chara with comically large syringe.

* Toriel spends most of her time taking care of monsters in the ruins, since there's not many down there - it's a bit easier than other areas. Yet she works alone and that's still a lot for one monster, she's still a very caring of the human in this au but she is very stressed & works a lot. The spare rooms are usually for patients that need more time to heal.

* The royal care (guard) is for emergency care, those who are about to die or in extreme need are taken care by them. It’s rather hard to make sure someone doesn’t dust, this job is extremely stressful. Papyrus has always been someone who wants to help, he cares a lot about others and wants to be there for the ones in need. He’s one of the monsters others go to if they need a little help, or if someone’s sick. Nothing too crazy, but he really really wants to be apart of the royal care.

* Undyne is still fiery and determined, but she’s still a protector - and always has been. She wants to help the underground. Her personality will not go away because it’s not just about “fighting”.

* Chara died of a sickness they got before falling into the underground, eventually they died from it despite the monsters care.

* A lot of monsters don’t want to fight you, some are too weak to try. Although the ones that are trained to use their magic a lot and have the intention to harm - are a little harder to beat than they are in undertale.

* Alphys keeps the most patients, a lot of them stay there, the royal care visits quite often, especially since a lot of their patients go there. It’s kinda more like a hospital then anything. They also have some rooms dedicated to finding cures and researching the curse and how to get rid of it. This involves research on human souls as well.

* This causes monsters to be inside way more often, and magic food is in even higher demand.

* Everyone is working… so much…. so much stress.

* Surgeons typically inspect on the soul rather than the body.

* Sans is.. still tired, even more so than Classic! He avoids doing any work if he can, he knows the others will take care of it. He helps out with his brother so he doesn’t get overwhelmed with work.

* A lot of places have supplies, masks, protective wear, etc to keep others safe.

* Sanses eye is in a hospital + sign when healing & generally glows green instead of yellow & blue.

* The curse gets lifted when a monster can break the barrier and become god.

* Although a lot of monsters won’t attack you, some definitely will - specifically if they aren’t ill or weak, or afraid of you.

* Alphys, Sans and Flowey have the most medical knowledge in the underground. Although the only monster out of those three to not full on operate on a someone is Sans. (Unless you encounter Malpractice sans)

* Tearaphil is the name of the monsters disease/curse. Might change this, I don’t know.

* Undyne doesn’t let Papyrus into the Royal care because she doesn’t want him to witness monsters dying all the time, she wants what’s best for him, and she worries that him seeing people he’s cared for die would take an extreme emotional toll on him.

* You can recover from the sickness when you have it, there’s around 4 stages. Although it’s easy to catch again once you already have it once.

* Papyrus gets sick sometimes because he takes care of monsters in Snowdin, of course none of them are extremely ill - therefore Papyrus will only be sick for a few days or so, and it will be akin to a cold.

* Instead of Papyruses spaghetti, it’s soup!

And the rest, you already know from asks lmao

[mako-neexu]

Same person who sent that arknights/FGO idea from a while ago but here's another one 😁 the doctor and Romani talking about their wards but before Romani leaves he asks the doctor to tell Ritsuka "good job but take it easy sometimes okay? You've worked hard enough" if they ever meet before dissapearing from existence again.

ANON IM GOING TO JUMP ON YOU BTW i rushed this so bare with me (dies) i initially wanted a convo between two doctors but then... i lost braincells www so have this instead/???? TvT I present to you my first ever cheesy crossover fic between the two gacha games i play. im so very weak for roman...

—

How should they go about this?

The Doctor taps their fingers against their arm, both crossed in a pondering manner he habitually uses whenever he has to negotiate with a high-ranking individual.

It was familiar by now, though merely because deep inside, it was practically muscle memory for them to be able to convince and deceive anyone.

Doctor hums lightly, moving forward to lean against the railing of the landship alongside the dark-haired boy and the orange-red haired girl.

Their stay was soon going to end, with the unknown organization calling themselves ‘Novum Chaldea’ preparing to return them home after a month of life here as Operators of Rhodes Island.

It was a bit sad… considering they and the many people living in the landship had grown fond of the two Casters who were not from this world.

They had already said their goodbyes, each of them promising to visit once more and fight alongside them.

“Welp, no use getting sad over this!” Gudako laughs, her hair whipping around her face like silk fluttering in the air. “After all, I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

Gudao sighs with a smile and turns to them, “Yeah, sometimes, there’s cases where we randomly end up in different worlds while sleeping. So who knows? We really might get to visit again.”

Doctor smiles, reaching out to nudge the boy’s arm with a fist, “Rhodes Island is happy to welcome you both with open arms then.”

The atmosphere turns a little solemn. Perhaps it was the sunset. Perhaps it was the fact that they all knew that they wouldn’t be seeing each other again after this.

While the boy had a peaceful expression on his face, the girl’s own was conflicted. The two of them had bonded with so many people here that it was understandable that the pain must be near indescribable for them.

“You know,” Doctor says, eyes downcast as he looks at the dry soil of the ground beneath the ship, “In case Kal hadn’t yet offered, you both can stay here as just staff.” The only thing they could hear was the soft blowing of the wind and their voice.

The two ‘Casters’ had told them of their story. Of a world where Grail Wars exist, hundreds of ghosts summoned to fight alongside and against, the world burned except for handful of people including them, forced into committing repeated mass genocide all for the sake of their own survival-

The Doctor knew what that man’s words had meant as soon as they were told about Gudao and Gudako’s stories.

It was near unbelievable, but considering that they have their own brand of ‘magic’ and technology, they and Kaltsit had been the first ones to believe their origins. While Kal had her own reasoning, the Doctor’s own had been different.

“The two of you are young, barely into adulthood even and you both are forced to dye your hands with the blood of your allies and foe alike.”

Who were they to say that when they have former child soldiers of their own, and current children at that, employed as an Operator to allow them treatment to slow down the effects of their Oripathy.

But they still have a chance to do something for these two.

“‘Retreat is a victory itself. Nobody would fault the two of you if you decided to stay here.” Where no grail war, no ‘Servants’, no forces out there would enforce upon them a cruel position.

Gudako smiles. It was a bright yet sad one. “Thanks for the offer, boss. But-”

“-We want to take back our world, no matter the cost.” And Gudao finishes for her.

The Doctor stares at them, takes a good long look before shaking their head good-naturedly.

…No matter the cost, huh?

It’s seriously like that man said. 

Before they could say anything, a blue hologram of a little girl appeared before the two Masters.

“Gudao, Gudako! The rayshift will now start in five minutes! Be ready for my countdown, okay?”

“Yep. Thanks Da Vinci.” The two replied before the connection was cut off.

The two turn to the Doctor, all smiles and solemn goodbyes, “Thanks for taking care of us here, boss.” Gudao says, his arm wrapping around Gudako’s own.

They cross their arms with a half-hearted huff, “I hope the both of you take care of yourselves. The medical examinations we conducted with you guys for the past weeks had all of the medical team worried.”

After all, the results they gathered and concluded had been vague at best. But they made sure that the two were in perfect shape even if it's just the outward appearance.

But-

“We’ll do our best! No promises, though.”

Doctor’s eyes flit from their pocket to the two of them.

A beat. One, two…

Their gaze softened, and so did their tone, “And I don’t mean that from Rhodes Island and myself alone…”

Then, he pulls out a pair of white gloves they knew to have been recognized by the two judging from the gasps and astonishment in their gazes.

Doctor hands it to them, unable to meet their stares, “That man… He said he was proud of the both of you, how you made it this far with everyone despite the odds. But he also wanted for you both to take it easy. Rest if it gets heavy, move forward even if you no longer have a path.”

The hands that took the pair of gloves were shaky at best. And the Doctor could see from the corner of their eyes that Gudao and Gudako’s eyes were shiny.

…That man must have been what he is to Amiya. 

The only difference was that their doctor no longer exists.

Reaching out, they patted both the teenagers’ heads in a similar way he had done so with Red and Ifrit.

“Good job.”

—was that man’s message to them from a dream they had before Gudao and Gudako came to Terra.

As a physician themselves, death was a familiar and intimate concept. Loss and grief follows second.

To think that the man laid his life down to pave the way for these two…

The two clutched at the gloves, no doubt that it was drenched by now.

But Gudako suddenly shot up and cried, “H-How did you see him!? H-He’s no longer here- that would be impossible! U-Unless-”

Doctor shook their head, “I met him in a dream. When I woke up, the gloves were sitting on my desk.”

Da Vinci appeared once more, the hologram now occasionally interrupted by static, “Alright! Thirty seconds left. I’m sorry commander, but we need them to be still now.”

They nod as their hands slip away from the two Masters’ heads. “He’s a kind man.” They smile at the memory of fluffy peach hair bouncing from embarrassment, gloved hands shooting up to rub his nape in a sheepish manner, “Your doctor, that is.”

The proud blush on the two was endearing. “W-Well, he’s the reason why we’re able to push forward.” Gudao imitated the same manner as that man’s habit.

They rest a hand on their hip, amusement filling their smirk, “I suppose that’s why you prefer to call me boss rather than my primary title.”

“Sorry! It’s just that that title holds a special place in our hearts.” The red-haired girl laughed.

“It’s fine,” They respond with equal emotion, fifteen seconds left.  “But I wish the both of you luck.”

From them, from Rhodes Island, from Closure, Amiya, and Kaltsit—

As a blue light came from above and engulfed Gudao and Gudako, the Doctor waved them goodbye

“And his wish was to see the both of you happy.”

[plasticfangtastic]

Can We be Lonely Together? Ch. 12 2/3

A Homelander X Stalker! Reader fanfic

This is a G/N reader but male leaning for crack purposes.

A/N: Part 3 soon, long chapter ahead, part 1 is currently a pin post on my blog as of 30/7/2023. prev. chapters in the #My Fic tag and #can we be lonely together tag on my blog. Thanks to all the ones who have read this.

R18+ S.A and rape mention, child abuse and child death mention, murder. long chapter ahead

Chapter 12 cont.

Entering wasn’t difficult– no more difficult than co-ordinating with The Deep in order to steal a minor dosis of V and placing it in your car the day prior without the boss finding out, clutching at your bag, and the SD card in your pocket you began to re-play a collection of tragedies.

You needed to sell this and as controversial ‘The Method’ acting technique was, it worked in a pinch– these weren’t just enemies of Vought, or Homelander but of all Supe kind. Even on a microdose of V you could suffiencently heighten your powers. Vought had plenty on this group of FBSA contractors, their rap sheet miles long: terrorism, murder, assault, kidnapping, speeding, drug and gun peddling and now social media influencing.

Your escape plan virtually nonexistent, this was a do-or-die situation counting on Starlight having some humanity left… after all she was a Supe too– and that one man might just be pretending to be making exceptions to his genocidal goal.

If this didn’t work out then Homelander would never learn, you repeated over and over drilling it into your skull as you got closer to your goal.

It was for his own good, you repeated.

Welcome by the assault of a bloodtrail of thoughts you shook, gagging at the vividness of it all. These people were brutal, you had resided in carveries, dozens of bodies had gone past you yet their attitude was too much when compared to Dolores and Kent. One so odious and angry you began to reconsider your plan, yet you stepped foot out of the elevator as the ornate doors opened before you.

You had a catalog of tragedies to draw out tears, playing death on command feeling those final memories, the pains of love with nowhere to blossom, screams atop of lungs, and torment and pain of your own and others, you stood in that hallway until your eyes welled up, until your reflection must’ve looked haunting, each step forward meant a death without witnessing your sun once more.

‘Greywal & Co.’ Your hand shaky as it challenged itself to knock– how hard should you hit it? how desperate should you look? did your clothes look composed yet disheveled? How clammy was your skin? Thankfully you’re still sweaty and achy from sex.

Your knuckles hit the door lightly, shrinking, making yourself small, leaving out all of your pesky bravado.

You waited knowing you were noticed but each member grew increasingly silent, looking at each other– who could’ve possibly known their location? Sinking your teeth into your madness, you knocked again.

One already had a gun in his hand as he approached, a tiny jumpy thing, his mind clear but quick, a myriad of narcotics still fresh in his system from last night bender, he opened the door, you made eye contact, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, and his tight bright coloured shirt, he offered a jumpy glare-- this one was a functioning addict.

He opened his mouth speaking with a thick french accent.

“We didn’t order anything.”

“Is… Is…” Your voice so small and breathy each letter caught in your tongue, the man leaned forward to catch your stuttering–… Is William Butcher here?”

His index creeping closer to the trigger.

“I must speak with him!!” Oh that cracking so good you earned your cookie– please…” you pleaded.

As the scene grew, Plan B entered the play– Starlight stood from her desk, narrowing her eyes, it took so much of you not to grin. She moved quickly, recognizing a nobody like yourself; Which made sense considering how the last time you both had made eye contact was back before restaffing efforts in the analytics department.

“You’re from Vought… yeah… I remember you, you were with Analytics!”

“Starlight!?” you took a step back, clutching at the straps of your backpack– thank god… I… I… Please help me.”

Your knees wobbly from before, wobbling at the perfect moment, thankful for the aching on your back and hips.

“I’ll giv’ you one minute of my time, luv– before I ask you to get the fuck outta of ‘ere.” the English man put his boots down from his desk, signaling to the two to let you walk in.

You could see why Homelander found him tantalizing, he was too much of a bad boy, practically screaming that he would ruin you with that somber look in his eyes, but deep down you could tell he was a softy if you dug and hated yourself enough– you could’ve tried that without breaking too many nails.

Marching towards your butcher, you took a SD card out of your jacket cradling it in your palm, swallowing the knot in your throat.

“Nobody at Vought would help me…” You swallowed– I… I don’t want to die… if… if they don’t kill me… he will” Your eyes reddened, lying like this pained you– I-I-I can-can’t do this anymore." you stuttered-- I learned you guys dealt with supes! The cops can’t help me and I'm a nobody so the press would never believe me… the FBSA won’t do nuthin’ about him either.”

He stared at the SD card in your hand yet still uninterested.

“... please… I beg you… please help me” You cried lightly, your whole body shuddering knowing what was about to escape your mouth would hurt him– please…”

“Who's the cunt? What could you possibly ‘ave here that would make me wan’ to ‘elp you? Not even a sob story?”

“Homelander. He… He did things to me…” you cried– I needed to find a way to get away from him… I thought if I found something dirty on Vought or him, they would put me on witness protection or something!! But they will… they will fucking kill me for this! God I wanted to get away from him, not this!!”

His whole body stiffen, your tears far too genuine, their eyes too uncomfortable to look at you for a millisecond longer, exchanging worried glances urging a brave soul to approach you.

Starlight's hand took you by surprise, flinching and slapping it off of you, she clutched her hand staring at you looking like a caged animal.

“So-sorry… I– I– I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Is that true?” the Englishman asked with a low voice, and forced sarcasm– quite the story you got I almost bought it.”

A quiet rage invaded you, furiously unbuttoning your dress shirt, dropping layers in excess, flashing him, his mouth dropped at the sight of a hundred strokes– this was more than he had hoped for, leaving him nothing more to want.

“I’m not lying!!” You growled– does this look fake to you, asshole!?”

Your torso imitated a car crash victim, turning in shame just enough for him to catch a glimpse at the sore bite marks around your shoulders and neck.

“I’m losing it…” you cackled with your sobs– am so fucking dead.”

“Jesus Christ Butcher!” Starlight shouted picking your clothes to cover you– hey! hey come sit down.”

The bastard had actually thought you weren’t his type.  

Turning his love letters into weapons, brought you into a screaming fit of tears, it hurt you, he would not forgive you… he shouldn’t… but… he did it first.

In his desolation he would go back to you, nobody would love him like you, he would understand he could only belong freely in your arms.

Following her to the gross little couch, while making little notes on the names of their family members, passwords, embarrassing secrets– all the juicy things you needed to start Plan R.

A handsome man, the family oriented one offered you tea. Both him and Starlight’s voice were nothing but a buzz, your sight glued on Butcher.

“How did you found out ‘bout me…?”

“You've been after him and Vought for a while…” the crack on your voice harsh– you killed Stillwell… Translucent… Mesmer… the Payback bitches… but  I read that they kidnapped your wife– so I put two and two together and assumed you had a vendetta.”

“What y’know ‘bout my wife?”

“I read she was kept in a facility to help rear Homelander’s son– something about providing a stable environment that supported his emotional needs. From the look in your face I gather I’m not the only one.”

You cleaned your tears.

“So that’s what you found? You think that’s gonna do shite againts them? As if they won’t spin it as my Becca being a heartless harlot who ran away with his kid!”

You were too angry for your own good, maybe just as angry as him.

“ I’m not stupid… I stumbled upon some files called ‘Project Patriot’ and ‘First True American Program’ leading me down a rabbit hole– back in the 70’s and 80’s Vought conducted research using high spec Supe sperm and eggs on… unwilling participants” You cleared your nose, your voice sounding detached– they took runaways and girls from ‘Sage Grove’ to help make what would become ‘The Homelander’… they- they were other kids… he was the only survivor. His mother… she was found a few weeks ago… she was a missing girl called Frida Gillman…”

You looked up, clearing your nose loudly. The Englishman gave a commanding look to his group, the tall black guy did a quick google search on his phone, the first result was a youtube video talking about old unsolved mysteries finally solved, it seemed for many years Frida had had a following in the true crime community.

Showcasing an old grainy picture of Frida, both men could immediately see the family resemblance.

“How confident are you that you don’t got the wrong girl?”

“He killed her in front of me. He… he found her… I have the autopsies pictures too… it…”

“He laser her brains off?” He scoffed, for all the bullshit talk he had in front of him with Soldier Boy… that had been rich to hear.

“She looked the same. She didn’t age a day… I think Vought briefly considered using her to make anti-aging face cream… he didn’t like that.”

The lab had been repainted after you whispered it to Homelander.

Butcher took a seat across from you, already finding twelve different ways to kill you before his men could stop him, disliking the tone of your voice far too much.

“Kept goin’’”

“The American program…” You took a short sip of your tea, never lifting your face for too long– they collected his kids, he told me once… he thought he… he couldn’t make babies… Vought lied to him. Something about his DNA, basically fused with Compound V! So his offspring would always be born natural Supes– in theory… so they took the kids and put them in Big Brother’s house… forced the moms to agree to the experiments once the kids showed powers– if not dispose of them and continue without them.”

He could smell the pretense in your delivery, he was sharp, you liked the challenge strangely enough, it made your heartbeat jump with excitment.

“His son… Ryan… he seems like a good kid. As much as I hate him… as much as I wanna see Homelander dead… I cannot be the reason an innocent child goes through what they did to him and his kids.” You whimpered– The things… you can’t even imagine the things they did to him and those kids!! They were babies!! Like how can anybody do that to a child!!? You wouldn’t even do that to an animal!! I saw a fucking toddler be hit with a sledgehammer!! Shot at! Poisoned! Drowned!! I saw his kids being hooked to generators!! Have you ever seen a kid's eyes bursting!!!??” You stood up, your skin turning green. This couldn’t be faked– have you ever seen what happens to a body after it experiences a sudden atmospheric pressure change? not talking scuba divers… talking submarine chambers.”

You plop down, sinking in the leather seat, holding your clothes in place, watching their disgust and horror. You offered the SD card, the man struggled to take it off your hand, thinking of how dead he would be as if wasn’t already on a timer.

“– Vought has too many ears… after the V scandal… and I can barely get away from him…”

You could practically hear the victory bells, with clumsy fingers you took your phone out, the burner one that only served Roman. Too many selfies of you and Homelander, too many short texts between you two on your current phone.

“Wait you walking ‘roun with that shite on your phone!?”

“Well if he kills me, maybe the cops would find this in my phone… I… I was sort of counting on Homelander just not caring to check.”

You played a single video, a little blonde kid no more than eleven sitting in front of a row of shot glasses, a younger Jonah Vogelbaum sat beside him holding a bag of Peach gummies, for every shot the kid took he earned a gummy and a pat in his head, it wasn’t until the third shot glass when the group that had huddle around understood what was taking place– as the boy spat furiously, droplets felt across the metal sizzling whatever they touched, the kid crying with a painfully hoarse voice that it burnt too much. Vogelbaum stood up offering a single candy then forced him back into the chair, telling him that he shouldn’t cry, that he must do this for him if he wanted to earn this week’s reward.

The kid cried slowly, calming down as he took the next cup, snot covered bright red lips and cheeks as he tried looking strong for Voguelbaum.

“It goes on for five minutes.”

“Is that Homelander?” The lanky white boy spoke nervously.

“Yeah… that’s not even the worst… even if you kill me for the files only I got the password and good luck cracking it. I’ll give you the files if you can get me protection…”

“You think you can run away from him?” Asked the englishman– "can't even get rid of him now– those bruises look fresh.”

So here you could tell more awful lies, little tears soiled your cheeks, he just simply did not like you, not liking that you now held their price hostage, but it didn't need to turn bloody.

“I liked him… but one day he got loud, he scared me… and since… no matter what I did he would just get more angry. Before I knew it… he did this to me, and if I cried he would get worse… I… I want him to stop but am just a mudperson.” Starlight tilted towards you at the mention of that word– Nobody can kill him… or lock him, there is no prison built for him… but if Vought dies, if there’s no more Vought then there’s no more Homelander. He seems like the kind of guy who would kill himself if he found out about what they did to the kids… Even if I don’t make it… I could be okay with that if that meant Ryan would be safe– Let me at least go to hell with one less sin.”

He briefly considered torturing you to get you to reveal it was an act, but watching you, watching this divine offering, knowing this would never happen again he had to agree, Homelander would kill you, watching the look of anger and defeat brewing reflecting of your face, his walls began to crumble. He hated Homelander, watching that clip didn’t change anything but Ryan remained… The thought of his Becca forced to agree, to comply as they forced Ryan to drink acid– Butcher imagined the same scene, his wife holding the gummies in place of Jonah encouraging the small kid to take another sip. His stomach churned.

“I can make some calls to the FBSA…” he muttered, his mind in another timeline.

“The one run by the head popping presidential candidate?”

“How do you—?” asked Starlight.

“He talks… I think he thinks I'm his therapist– he says a lot of things… as if nobody ever did so much as pretend to listen. He was nice…” A saddened smile unnerved Starlight– a guy like that doesn’t look at somebody like me– it wasn’t hard to like him. It was hard to learn he was a monster… he says a lot of things. Too many. ‘bout the company, ‘bout himself, ‘bout the people who serve him.” You looked up– you. That’s how I learned your name… you’re the big bad wolf trying to blow his house of straws.”

He chuckled.

“So he kept comin’ back because yer a good listener? Give me a day and I can reach some contacts in the CIA that might be able to get you out the country– can you survive until then?”

“Don't have much of a choice.” You wrapped yourself in your clothes properly this time, your eyes sore from all the tears– the kid… the kid will be alright, no?”

“We’ll do everything we can to help you…” Starlight spoke, her hand sticky on your shoulder– you can trust us.”

“Certainly hope so. I can’t wait to get the matching set” You hissed scratching at the bite mark on your left shoulder– thank you…”

“Have to ask… what’s your name?” William asked– for the paperwork of course.”

He still didn’t trust you, good things don’t come this easily, these were jaded people but your carrot was too big and tempting, he had no qualms killing you, he had no issue with Homelander knowing this address, for he seemed far more interested in playing house and running Vought to the ground than to pay him a visit.

You gave them your current cover… only Homelander knew your real name.

You had liked that name, ideally it would be replaced by his last name, you watched him grin and offer you a tissue, the french man telling you where the bathroom was so you could wash your face. They wasted no time aiming for a background check speedrun world record, your name led them to various social media accounts, your usage was sporadic but consistent on topics, even a personal update about starting work at Vought, soon after that you posted less and less. 

They could possibly find everything about you, all the fake shit you carefully build, and if they had weeks they could possibly find the new one you’ve crafted to get away from Roman earlier on. With their CIA connection as limited as they were, it wouldn’t be impossible to uncover your many past lives in time, at least your original self, that have once been sealed in the Vought records of your Pusher days were permanently deleted.

As your face dried your phone chimed, a short  message: ‘Can’t you come back early? Babe, I want both you and Ryan to meet the surprise. Oh and should I get some from that cake shop in Sydney? the one you like??’

You looked around knowing nobody had come close.

‘Get the lemon pistachio. I can be there at 4. will try to finish this quickly tho. Luv u.’

Starlight was quizzed on who you were, she mentioned noticing Homelander descending to the lower floors, but she was more busy about everything, after all you had arrive on her last weeks of work soon after Edgar stepped down, you didn’t stand out but she saw you– after all there were only like five people down there.

You re-entered as M.M. lowered his computer screen, heading towards his desk you handed him the SD card.

Clutching at your bag straps, looking wounded and exhausted.

“How do we know we can trust you? Maybe I believe you or maybe I don’t, luv.”

He was going to give you a final jab.

“Margaret and Elena recently purchased a homestead… 8 acres of land down in Colorado and are rearing llamas for fur… I could’ve given Homelander her address, phone number, new social security number, the license plate to her blue 1999 Chevy Silverado, even down to the last thing she ate at Taco Bell last saturday at 4:33 pm based on her Bank of America account transaction. I also know she texted her three days ago.” You pointed at Starlight– If I was your enemy I would’ve gotten her killed. My supervisor deleted the footage of a van picking her body but she missed one from a Ring doorbell camera one store away”

You showed him the clip, different angle, dark but obviously them.

“Trust me or not, don't care… just help me get away from him, if I had contacts with the CIA I would’ve tried running away on my own, but the worse part about working for Vought is that the people in my department are fucking good at their job. Call Maeve if you like to confirm she’s alive, if you want.”

The room tensed.

You took a couple steps back, your phone ringing and ringing, you had said no and even if your message was reasonable, it didn’t matter.

The more it went on the more you could sense this ending very poorly.

“That’s him, Isn’t it?” Hughie asked.

“... the password is ‘limerence’ no caps… I… I have to go.”

The phone kept going and going you stood there for a whole minute while it rang incessantly, taking a deep breath, you began walking away.

Your eyes, two whole red saucers, the french man followed you to the door, watching your eyes welling up, your arms trembling as you took the phone to your ear.

“You answer when I fucking call you!” John shouted into the phone, making you jump.

Loud enough they could hear his unmistakable voice echoing down the halls.

You ran for the stairs, knowing there was a camera set up, looking down as you heaved in your sprint. M.M. looked at the security feed watching your jacket fade as you run and seemed to apologize.

Hughie took an old computer from one the many filing cabinets, if anything was to be destroyed by a virus it wasn’t going to be one of theirs, there was no denying those bruises in your body, Annie had winced, her sight fixated on each patch of skin and its unsavory coating– some fresh some ancient, some barely there until the light hit it just right, all your wounds in spots that your clothes could cover, it made her stomach churn thinking of what he had done to get you like that and even as you runned down the stairs you could hear them so clearly.

The SD card opened up displaying three folders within, Hughie and company tried typing the password on all of them, getting lucky on the last one.

Inside hundreds of files, documents, images and videos on ‘Project Patriot’.

Even as the city grew sleepier, they were fixated on the screen, even without the other folders, even without anything else– Vought could be done for.

It left a bitter aftertaste… he lost sleep watching recordings and recordings of nameless kids, fading from history, kids that had never formally existed outside of God’s gaze.

Just overwhelming misery.

Inside that now emptied office, he took a cigarette out to the sounds of a little boy taking an oral test, a light stutter had to be eliminated out his mouth, made to read out loud passages from some American history book, made to repeat everything if the stutter presented itself watching the child grow more stressed and embarrassed.

He was living on borrowed time, he considered for longer than he could afford to do.

“scorched earth” the smoke drew swirls in the air– what should I do Becca?”

Homelander's nose and ears ached, the thought of taking another step inside this shelter was genuinely agonizing, the excitement, the fear and fecal rainbow of the four-legged beasts all around, smacked his senses.

This was quicker than getting one from a breeder, it would look good for his new fanbase-- he was told, the lady's jittery motion gave him a headache– shut up!! He wanted to scream as she spoke non-stop leading him to the cattery, rows of stainless steel boxes… cages… rows and rows of cages. 

Not even enough space to walk away from the litter box, his tongue dried thinking of his own cage, the latrine always visible.

“This donation truly means a lot to us, Homelander, sir.” she said excitedly.

 A hundred-thousand dollars was chump change to him– a lot for this independent shelter, watching these tiny cages he might double it on the promise they would make them bigger.

Rows of kittens and cats mewl and screamed, too many noises, too many smells, it was dizzying, he had to hold unto Ashley’s shoulder as his ears were assaulted by screams and purrs, hisses and yowlings, barking, and scratching, this place was a violent, his chest tightening as his ears ached– his eyes pressed tightly. John’s mind was so quiet, his brother still ignoring him squeezing his knuckles until they cracked. Homelander gave the room a quick glance, picking a random cage that housed two older cats.

These creatures screamed the loudest, demanding to be seen.

“Oh those two they were surrendered to us last year… not a lot of people want to take older cats, much less bonded pairs.”

He read the tag, a pair of seven and ten year old cats– a brother and sister. The brother a fat slob of a beast, its long fur made it look like a scraggly cream coloured cloud, its whiskers just as long and curly at the tips, its nose too long and its eyes big and green while his sister a skinnier but not by much… still more fur than it should have, just a boring brown mackerel.

“We’ve been trying to get them to lose weight but they aren’t very active during playtime, still lots of improvement from last year.”

This was just to make you happy, they would only last a couple more years and by the time they died you wouldn’t want more. Ryan would get the pet experience but as most children he assumed he would grow disinterested in a couple months.

“Do they get along with dogs? And kids?”

“Kids, yes!! Dogs not big ones” she blurted, already opening the cage– want to hold them?”

Forcibly smiling, he took the fat girl, hefty, she talked displeased, just blubber and fur, the lady made a motion encouraging Homelander to press her against his chest, chirping and chattering, the eye contact was intense, as he wanted this weird tuna smell away from his face and the cat was clearly puzzled by his presence. Its tongue was so strange, he flinched lightly as the animal licked his nose, sniffling at his face.

From the cat's perspective the man had no aroma, nothing but a fawn wearing human clothes.

“Perfect, I'll take them!” he handed the creature back– my boy cannot wait.”

“well… sir… we usually have an interview pro–

“I said I’ll take them– Ashley give the lady her check!”

An assistant handed him a cartoonishly large check, this was after all going to be a PR opportunity at least. Ashley, still processing what was happening, all she knew was that after a light lunch he came and ordered her to get this organized.

He waited outside the cattery texting you and getting nothing, he was inside this place for you and now you didn’t answer inmediately.

He shouted.

“Sorry!! Trying to organize some ingredients for Dolores she needed my help!!” 

“What's with your voice?”

His anger melted instantly.

“I’m running down the stairs!!”

“Are you okay…?”

“Yes! I just don’t think I can talk with you while they’re around– I’ll call you when I can. I love you.” 

Hanging only made it worse.

Three floors under them, you are still close enough to listen to the French man, his knowledge of chemistry inspirational.

Homelander entered the room again to get a photo taken with the cats, each animal more displeased than he was.

By the time he made it back to the tower, he searched for your heartbeat.

Still not there, but Ryan was busy with after school activities, and going to the library with his buddies Jaythaniel, Haoran and Oaklynn to do their homework.

He watched the men set up the cats' stuff, Ms. Cha making sure they didn’t leave a mess, cursing in Korean how the cats were going to make her work more than she ever had yet still throwing them an adoring look.

He sat on his couch after letting the cats out, not paying much attention to what they were doing.

“Ms. Cha, could you keep an eye out for the cats? I still need to run some errands. If Y/N gets home don't let them in until I get here.”

Never in her twenty years of working for this man, had he ever called her anything. Assumed the hero didn’t even know her name... much less she existed.

Running across the city looking at your phone for the time, you jumped on the subway until you made it to Dolores's restaurant, two staff led you quietly to the back as the lunch service was still happening. 

A young woman shouted commands in code, the staff moving like extensions of their voice, Dolores examining each plate before a waiter took it, she had no need to taste for her nose did all the work, she pulled her second in command and placed them in charge walking away for you to follow into a cramp fridge.

“Supe.”

“Soup?”

“I can get you Firecracker for the next epulary.” you bluter excitedly.

“Get out of here.”

“Her editor and script writer lives in Queens… She goes every Thursday to her house for wine and discusses the next episode of their podcast. Vought might be running the show now but she still needs her best friend’s input.”

She looked at the labels around.

“How are you going to do it?” She moved the trays around dictating freshness thus urgency– she got bulletproof skin.”

“Tetrodotoxin… a couple drops in her wine”

“I can get you some puffer fish by tomorrow. I know that on a normal human the meat will be useless but… a Supe like her… am curious.”

“Her friend is a supe too, they met at Godolkin their power is stupid– X-Ray vision but overall normal.”

“Don’t get me too excited, babygirl.”

“I’ll deliver it in two days then, just need to get away from John for a minute and you do your part, right?”

“I’ll have the clean up crew just text me when you’re on your way. And ‘John’? Oh… not just Homelander this time.”

“I think he was gonna buy a cat for me.”

“Jesus christ what did you do to his dick? Any tips?”

“Just gotta suck it like you’re a repressed middle aged man with two kids and a wife at a dingy truck stop gloryhole.”

“Damn.”

“That or just tell him he is a good boy.”

She opened the door with a wide smile, jumping at the thought of tasting Supe meat again, it had been a long time since you guys met and you’ve help her..

“Oh I gotta make dinner… Can I?”

She lowered a tray of porterhouse angus for you.

“I take this as my advancement.”

“You should take our mash potato and brown buttered carrots– I’ll have them pack you some”

“Oh I got this Cassolette recipe I just stole from a killer”

“How good?”

“Remember Lil’ Nina from the Russian’s?”

“Oh the one she tried having me make? and who fucked us over with the Czech back in the day.”

“That one… small world indeed.”

“Fuck the angus take the dry-age wagyu.”

Time slips away but it's still four o’clock but shy of 5, by the time you rushed past the security check he was already waiting for you, dozens of eyes looking at you.

You lifted the grocery bag.

“You’re late.”

Still a quarter to five. He looks lost and upset, trying to keep composed in public.

“My apologies sir… I had to take the subway.”

“Your car doesn't work?”

There’s many people around you to speak comfortably.

“Sorry, I thought it would be quicker if I didn’t drive, sir.”

You looked away, clutching at your belongings, his glare was not worth the Uber ride you paid to get here.

“I’m going to go get Ryan from… whatever the fuck their names are… you don’t go inside until am back.”

“Jaythaniel, Haoran and Ooklynn.”

“What?”

“Those are his friends' names. You like Ooklynn, she is a well behaved one.”

“Those can’t be real names…” he softened his posture, taking a fancy paper bag from behind him– we’ll talk later.”

Seeing him take the front door out was a terrifying look, you stood there for a couple minutes trying to understand what just had happened, his mind had been so quiet.

The ride up was uncomfortable, the walk home just as bad.

“What did you do to him?” Ms Cha asked, already waiting for you outside– "I had it easy for years and now you make him give me more work!”

“I clean up after myself.” you defended.

“He has lost his goddamn mind.” she blocked the door– not allowed until bossman comes back.”

“How pissed was he?”

“Quiet. Just looks ready to kill somebody for the hell of it.”

“We both know that doesn’t narrow it down.”

“Not murder for funsies but premeditated.”

You both looked defeated just standing in awkward silence.

“Since when does he take the elevator?” Ms. Cha nudge at you, waking you up.

“It was nice knowing you.”

Ryan shot you the same look Ms. Cha gave you before, John's brows just buried enough yet not touching, his lips a thin line and he was looking straight at you without much blinking, the thrree of you huddling together as the door opened.

“Go in! come on.”

Ms. Cha bolted out at the opposite direction, she was not going to clean that up. Ryan wondered what could you’ve possibly had done, for him to be so absentminded when he picked him up, there was no urgency this time… heck he would had agreed to stay there for an extra 10 minutes without complaint.

It didn’t hit you at first until you noticed the cat tree by the window towering over the living room, and a child squealing as he spotted the two cats hiding under the coffee table.

“Toaster and Blender.” he gestured towards the worried cats– now you and I let's go to the kitchen for a chat.”

“You… You… oh my god…” 

Fuck him, you ignored him live this time– you jumped after the cats, Ryan aready snatching the fat tabby the moment it lifted its neck out the table, taking the other and squeeling like a lil' girl.

“I love it… oh my god you are so cute!! Can we keep it!?”

“Dad are we keeping them!!?

A thousand yard stare cemented in his eyes, underestimating the power of cats had in people, even Ashley had cooed at the critters.

“Yes. But you two have to clean the litter boxes.”

"I love you, Dad!!"

That conversation did not take place until after dinner, something about childhood excitement being shared by you two was far too overwhelming and hectic for the already stressed hero, you washed dishes as Homelander entered the kitchen.

“What was that today?”

The cats eat by the entrance, and it seems that wet food alleviated all their anxieties, specially at 4 dollars a can.

“A lot of mob front restaurants use high quality ingredients– I was organizing something for Dolores' private Epulary.”

“Bullshit.”

“Look I was in a room full of mobsters who could’ve killed me before you broke their door.”

“You could’ve called me later.”

“John. I’m Sorry but I was busy–

“I did that for you!” He pointed at the cats– what else do you want!? You’re still ignoring me! Acting distant– like what the fuck!” He shouted sounded more wounded than angry, exasperated in his panting.

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I was busy! I told you I was going to be busy!” You dried your hands, bothered that he was in his suit– I was hunting!! God fucking dammit John I been tagging these two whores for days!!”

You threw the towel.

“Hunting?  Wait you– you’re still killing people?”

“Not since you and I. God I thought the drugs made me happy but… ” You slumped onto the kitchen floor, just letting your legs give up– I need this. I need it… this is a different sort of adrenaline than sex or drugs and I like it. Oh god I fucking love it– I didn’t think I actually did! and you kept coming home covered in blood like you’re rubbing it in my face that I couldn’t!”

He stood frozen, his chin tucked, looking down at the mewling cat as if it asked him if they both heard the same thing.

“I love this. I love you.” You whined– I love domesticity but god I need to feel high!!– I don’t mind it, I am stressed and I haven’t hung out with my bestie in a while, either. Look, I'm just gonna kill these whores, have a girls night and then I’m all yours… is not fair you get to have all the fun.”

“Oh. Pumpkin you could have said something– communication is key to a successful relationship!”  There he was signing with relief blowing raspberries trying not to chuckle– "If you needed it, you could have asked me I could’ve brought you somebody!”

“No!” He looked offended suddenly– Look. Is the hunt that makes the kill fun, the trailing, the selecting, the ever fluctuating levels of difficulty… you do this in perpetual ‘easy mode’-- I don’t.” You smacked your head back– I got these girls, they got lots of friends, close family who will notice the moment they are missing, full-time work with lots of close colleagues and dependants… when girls like that go missing and nobody ever finds out what happens– that’s my bliss.”

A few red flags waved in his head but he ignored them because at least you were being honest with yourself and him, your speech back during your first fight must’ve been denial he thought.

“As long as you see their beady little eyes cloud–

“Boring!” you sang.

“Thought you hated it.” he picked the cream feline– Poor Toaster had to hear us scream.”

He takes his place beside you, cat still in arms.

“Me too. You remember the cat’s name before your own kids bestfriends?”

He had no reply to that.

“Why kill people for dinner?”

So he didn't.

“Rich fucks pay a lot of money to see pretty girls murdered while they eat spaghetti… they bid to select the method.”

“Can I help? I mean if you needed to kill people you could’ve asked me instead of being a bitc– being so mean to me.” He caught himself but you didn’t mind his slip.

“Maybe next time…?” you bit your lips– I was worried that if I was embracing this side of me… you… would be grossed out, and you wouldn't like me anymore.”

“Babe. Pumpkin.” He cooed, He kissed your temples, nudging closer as he softly petted the cat’s side– I said I would take all your bad… I bet you would look so beautiful covered in blood.”

“You certainly do.”

You took your phone showing him a picture of Firecracker’s friend.

“She has lots of followers on Instagram… and her feet pics sell really well– just look at that ass!”

“Wow! You think is better than mine?” he pouted– I bet she would even look pretty when you kill her.”

“Oh fuck no, Your ass could cause an earthquake with that bounce.” you kissed his chin laughing into him– I’ll take some pictures for you, if ya like…?”

You purred, he pictured your tasteful nudes arriving in the middle of a meeting, seeing your sensuous shape covered in this cheap whore waiting for him to clean up.

Oh there was a prideful glimmer in his eyes, his hand stroking the fur– addictively soft, there was a lot of fur throws around the house, perhaps in the recess of his mind a deprivation of textures had brought a subconscious fascination with fur, he mindlessly stroke the feline and you wondered if somehow your powers had influence his decision, this cat looked somewhat like his mother’s– the cat began to purr, and you both sat there looking at the overweight animal as it nestled itself comfortably in defeat.

Your cheek resting on his arm with an eagle picking at your scalp.

“Ooklynn is not a real name.”

“Well her parents are white… her middle name is Meribeth if you prefer.”

“Becca did right by calling him Ryan. Ryan is nice, simple, easy, perfect.”

to be cont.

[clarktooncrossing]

Giraffe's Eye View: Christmas Specials Special (2023) | From All Of Us to All Of You

Chestnuts are roasting on an open fire. Jack Frost is nipping at your nose. Mom and dad can hardly wait for school to start again. All the dogs in the neighborhood somehow learned to bark Jingle Bells in sync. Yet retail workers are still more annoyed with Mariah Carey. Snow is getting shoveled, tossed, and formed into sentient beings leading parades without permits. It makes for an excellent distraction as the Krampus abducts children for bad behavior. Fruitcake is exchanged only to find its permanent home in the garbage. Terrorists have hijacked the Holiday office party right before your boss can give you a Jelly of the Month Club membership as your bonus. And of course, the Turducken has returned to wreak its fiery vengeance upon an unsuspecting world! If all this doesn’t put you in the Christmas spirit, perhaps these following Holiday specials will!

Greetings people of today and robots of tomorrow! It is I, Santa Clark, your geeky giraffe friend with a deep love of Christmas! My obsession for the yuletide is rivaled only by Maleficent’s hatred for it, which is saying a lot considering she once teamed up with Mad Madam Mim to kidnap the literal Spirit of Christmas. Yes, that really happened. I know this due to my annual pilgrimage to the Island of Misfit Specials, home to obscure or nerdy festive media ranging from movies, TV episodes, and comics. It’s no easy journey. Constantly I find myself confronted by sinister snowmen, genocidal gingerbread men, and worst of all, crappy commercials. Getting stabbed in the foot by a candy-cane wielding cookie is one thing, but I swear I’ve seen that ad for Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium more times than I’ve seen Miracle on 34th Street! Sometimes at night I catch myself reciting that jingle. Wilbur’s White Elephant Gift Emporium: Where Christmas meets Convenience! Huh, maybe Maleficent had a point.

Nah, my deep-rooted appreciation for this time of year can weather even the most moronic marketing! It helps that most of the merry media I’ve seen have put me in the perfect Holiday mood! Examples include the time a Ninja Turtle found himself trapped in a truck full of stollen toys, a drunk department store Santa stumbling onto a wish-granting magic bag, Big Bird nearly becoming a popsicle, Gwenpool waking up in a world where Galactus took the place of jolly ol’ Saint Nicholas, a terrifying tree stump trying to slaughter some saps over a stupid ship war, and the year when Death gave the Little Match Girl the greatest gift of all. Needless to say, I thought I had seen it all. That is, until I took my friends on a trip to the Island, tasking them to find me new, strange, seasonal specials to review! Some of them were fair, finding me festive favorites as comforting as coco in front of the fireplace. Others were fiendish, wanting to feed off my misery like Gremlins after midnight. Regardless of how naughty or nice my companions were, I’ve compiled all of their suggestions into a makeshift advent calendar! So stay tuned everyday until Christmas to see how badly my buddies can shred what little sanity I have left.

On the thirteenth day of Christmas, my buddies gave to me...

Being a Disney fan today is hard. The parks have been ravaged, their films flop on arrival, their continued downplaying of animation is annoying, and don’t even get me started on how they handled this year’s Writer / Actor Strike. Not to say there’s no diamonds hidden in the rough every now and again, but for the most part the buzzards running the Mouse House believe in profits not pixie dust. Worse, they have forgotten the most crucial ingredient to any creative undertaking: risk. Go big or go home, make a splash or stay dry, spending money makes money. Perhaps no one knew this better than Walt Disney himself. The man mortgaged his home to finance Snow White, nearly drove his company to bankruptcy to build Disneyland, and embraced television when the rest of Hollywood cowered in fear of it. He understood that television could be a powerful marketing tool that could help his brand grow in the long haul. Ironic, innit? Uncle Walt became a beloved figure through the small screen, hosting the Disneyland series and making a brief appearance at the opening from From All Of Us to All Of You. Premiering in 1958, the seasonal special proved so popular that it airs along with a sampling of various shorts to this day in other countries. Including Sweden, home to the rambunctious robotroll SIM-N (Finjix), himself having fond memories of watching it with his family. Being a classic Disney fan myself, I was actually eager to see if the hype the malicious machine was peddling was valid.

A pity it’s not on Disney+! First the Star Wars Holiday special, then Snowed in at the House of Mouse, and now this!? You advertised everything would be on there, Bobby Boi. What gives!? Thankfully where you fail, the Internet succeeds! Let’s just say I found a copy well archived on a specific site. It also had One Hour in Wonderland, Walt’s original Holiday offering from 1950. Sadly it was nothing special, just the Magic Mirror from Snow White showing clips from several projects to Kathryn Beaumont, Bobby Driscoll, Edgar Burgen and his iconic puppet pals. Aside from Walt’s daughters Diane and Sharon making a brief cameo, this trip to Wonderland is only notable for how many times it promotes Coca Cola. Man, is anybody else thirsty for a Sunkist?

Let’s pop a cold one and we can check out From All Of Us together! 

Walt, now the same size as Tinkerbell, welcomes us to the program. He wishes everyone at home a Merry Christmas before  turning things over to the real musical Masters of Ceremony; Jiminy Cricket (Cliff Edwards) and Mickey Mouse. Together on piano the cartoon celebrities sing a rousing rendition of The Little Drummer Boy mixed with Peace on Earth! Or rather Jiminy just shows off his collection of Christmas cards. Each card cues up a segment from a beloved animated feature that’ll already has or will be unnecessarily rebooted in live-action. Which features depend on the version you're watching, this recreation including Bambi, Peter Pan, Cinderella, Pinocchio, Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, along with two additional short films, Toy Tinkerers and Santa’s Workshop. The former features famous foul Donald Duck (Clarence Nash) comically dueling against Chip and Dale in toy warfare, the latter showing Santa prepping at the Pole for his annual sleigh ride. It also features an unfortunate bit of blackface, something I hope is cut from reruns. At least they didn’t show an entire segment from Song of the South like One Hour did. Remember folks, Disney’s most controversial film was once endorsed by Coca-Cola!

Overall, From All Of Us is decent blend of Holiday warmth and Disney magic, a warm cup of cocoa laced with a pleasant amount of pixie dust. However, I feel like it’s unnecessary in this modern age. Call me crazy, but why watch this clip show when I’ve seen these movies in their entirety via VHS, DVD, Blu-Ray, or streaming? For SIM-N, the answer is comforting nostalgia. While I might see it as regifted film scenes with barely any new material, SIM-N sees it as an excuse to get together with his family and watch the moments that made us realize magic was real. Knowing that makes this special a yuletide treasure in my book. Still, if you want some comforting Christmas capers centered around Mickey Mouse, I can do you one better. Or should I say three better?

< PREVIOUS REVIEW | INDEX | NEXT REVIEW >

[direwolfrules]

Star Wars As Star Trek AU: More Stuff

The Federation Timeship Ghost- In Voyager there was the Timeship Aeon which tried really hard to stop Janeway from fucking up the timeline. So, because I want Rebels in here somewhere, there’s the Timeship Ghost.

Captain Hera Syndulla, Commander Kanan Jarrus, Lieutenant Commanders Garazeb Orrelios and C1-10P, Lieutenant Sabine Wren, and Lieutenant Jr Grade Ezra Bridger. Sometimes they’re accompanied by Starfleet Temporal Intelligence Agent Alexsander Kallus. Even more rarely they’re accompanied by Kallus’s boss, a Togruta woman who they only know as Fulcrum.

In this AU Starfleet’s Temporal Division likes to recruit people who won’t be missed by the time stream. Transporter clones, spacial scission duplicates, people from branch timelines that are about to collapse. Folks with nothing to lose and a willingness to spend vast quantities of time in a space outside of it.

Hera and Chopper are from a paradoxical future that never happened, Kanan’s a spacial scission duplicate of a future Starfleet Commander, Sabine’s from a paradoxical future of the Mirrorverse, Zeb’s a survivor of a genocide that never happened, and Ezra’s a transporter clone. No one knows what Kallus’s deal is, and everyone’s afraid to ask about Fulcrum.

I feel like I should have mentioned this earlier but in this AU everyone’s aged up a bit to make military positions make sense, so Sabine and Ezra are in their twenties.

Hera’s future involves President Palpatine successfully destroying the moral fiber of the Federation through facism, turning it into the Zhell Imperium. It’s a paradoxical timeline, and before they collapse it the Starfleet team recruits her and Chopper because they seem competent.

Kanan’s from the future of the main timeline, where Starfleet Commander Caleb Dume’s away team’s shuttle runs into a subspace divergence field. Every particle of matter gets cloned, but winds up occupying the same space and tearing each other apart. Caleb and Kanan have the same solution to the problem, but Kanan’s ship takes too much damage. Right before he can go the way of the rest of his crew, Kanan’s rescued from the wreck by Hera.

Sabine’s Mirrorverse timeline was influenced by interaction with Hera’s timeline. When Hera’s timeline was being collapsed, hers was going to as well. Hera felt bad for the then teenager and brought her with.

Ezra’s a transporter clone of a Starfleet Cadet. Cadet Bridger died due to an emergency transporter malfunction, and our Ezra would have as well, but Kanan swooped in and grabbed him. He took one look at this small stranger with the perfect recipe for an identity crisis and went “he just like me”.

Zeb’s a survivor of the brutal genocide of the Lasat people. It’s just, thanks to the actions of a different Timeship, the genocide never happened. Zeb needs intense amounts of therapy, and for some reason Kallus avoids him, but eh.

Kallus participated in the Lasat genocide, which is not a good thing. He got his redemption arc in that timeline but like, he hears Zeb talk about stuff like that and oh, well then. Fuck. Therapy is needed.

Fulcrum is Ahsoka from that same Dark future as Hera, and she’s got all that delicious trauma from watching one of her older brothers turn full facist, the other one collapse into a grief ridden mess, and all the clones lose their free will.

I have ideas for antics between them all and their interactions with the Resolute, but nothing formed enough to write down yet. I also only have vague ideas on their positions on ship beyond Hera and Kanan.

Skeevy Sheev- So, in this AU President Palpatine isn’t the original Palpatine. He’s the Palpatine from the Mirror Universe Zhell Imperium. He never managed to overthrow that filthy alien who dared claim to be Emperor over the glorious humans, Hego Damask. In the wake of a failed assassination attempt against Emperor Damask, Sheevy ran right into a spacial anomaly the same time his Main Universe self did and they did a little swap.

Now Palpy has an over complicated plan to twist The Federation into a new Zhell Imperium, with him on top. The sad thing? It just might work.

Coruscant- The planet plays the same role as Earth does in Trek, site of the Federation Government and Starfleet Headquarters. It’s still an ecumenopolis, but there’s more parks and stuff and the lower levels are actually capable of sustaining life. Star Trek vibes, can’t be the closest thing to a Utopian future if your capital planet is literally a metaphor for political corruption.

The Senate Dome is now where the Federation Council meets. The Jedi temple is now Starfleet HQ and the Academy. The temple now has large outer gardens that are open to the public, and includes a plaque congratulating Captain Kenobi’s class for beating the impossible test (Siri didn’t like losing and Quinlan was left without responsible adult supervision, hacking ensued).

99 is Boothby. The kindly gardener (maintainance guy) who gives cadets advice and believe in them more than they believe in themselves? Yeah, there’s no other role for 99. Hell, throw the Dominoes in there while we’re at it. Can’t have 99 without the Dominoes.