#obsessed with the fact that rain world is a game about survival

[artgletic]

case study of the self-identified god

[fun-sized-owl]

The Devil and the Servant

Part XI – Rain

Warning: adult themes, mentions of sexual violence

“It is my understanding that my spawn has allowed you back into his bed,” spoke Mephistopheles, his white hot eyes on the incubus before him. In truth, there had been far more pressing matters than the status of his son. Raphael had not been forgotten about per se, but he had been put on the back burner. He had a realm to run, and it would not be run on its own, let alone would the Cold Lord allow someone else to take command. He was a paranoid devil, and so long as his son was silenced, there was little the whelp could do but bitch and moan. That was hardly uncommon of that particular spawn. Raphael loved the sound of his own voice.

Despite the lack of compassion that was between father and son, Mephistopheles was very aware of Raphael’s talents and… lack of talents. He knew where Raphael exceeded. He was a cunning devil, and a great collector of souls—the House of Hope was enough to prove that. He did not outright detest his son, either. In fact, Mephistopheles would not have granted him so many boons in his existence if he didn’t believe Raphael wasn’t worth it. The fact was, they were too similar, and that was a cause for concern. They were both quick to anger, cold and unattached in many areas, whilst also being passionately possessive and obsessive. Raphael was an ambitious cambion, but he had his uses. Being brought back from the dead was a choice that Mephistopheles had made, outside of an old contract that he had had with someone long gone to him. Raphael had earned the shame he would suffer. If the boy was smart enough, perhaps he would take home a lesson from all of this. If Raphael were to perish, then it would be on his terms. Let him suffer the shame, let him be reminded of his own mortality and weaknessess. Raphael had needed to be knocked down a peg or two a few centuries back, and now it finally happened. Allowing his killers to survive was just another slap to his pretty, little face.

Haarlep stood in his true form, his hands before him in a more proper stance as he addressed the Archdevil. “That is correct, my lord,” he answered. “He was rather smitten to have me back, if I do say so.” But of course. Raphael could never deny himself, and that lovely reflection of his.

Mephistopheles nodded, a hand at his goatee as he idly stroked it. He needn’t know the intimate details of what had transpired between them. Knowing that Raphael had taken Haarlep back was good enough for him.

“And he trusts you?”

Haarlep smiled, his icy blue eyes gleaming. “Entirely.” If their little conversation in the bed had anything to do with it, then it was obvious Raphael had rolled over quite easily despite his former contract to the Archdevil.

Raphael had no one he trusted. Even Haarlep, he did not entirely trust (despite what Haarlep just said), but he did trust in Haarlep’s fiendish nature. The incubus had, of course, learned this long ago, and the two of them played their games constantly, and fell into their comfortable roles within the relationship that they shared. In so many ways, they complimented each other’s depraved ideas and comforts.

Right now, especially in Cania, Raphael had little power from his rebirth. He was a mortal in a devil’s world, and he was beginning to truly see just how many devils did not like him. Who would Raphael run to when others were cruel to him? Who would he return to when he needed to be told how beautiful and strong he was? When he needed comfort? It was Haarlep. No one else would satisfy Raphael’s needs outside of himself, and right now, he was at the bottom of the barrel when it came to his insecurities.

“Good.” The Archdevil took a hard breath. “You did your job well, which was why I allowed you back within his company. Raphael is many… insufferable things, but with your distractions, the pup will learn his place within Baator. I cannot have him embarrassing my name amongst the Hells again.” The other Archdevils and he didn’t get along as it was, but to have the word spread that his own spawn had been taken down inside his own house by mere mortals was a disgrace. For if Mephistopheles' son was so weak, then it would only reflect on him.

It was true, Baalphegor had talked him down to a simmer when it came to his anger for what had happened. She had also been able to persuade him to change the sentence so he could at least be presentable. He had heeded his son’s call when he’d begged for his mercy as his soul detached from his body, but he had done it not for Raphael himself. No one would dare question him either, lest they wish to feel his wrath.

Did Mephistopheles care for his son? It was complicated. He resented him for many reasons. Ones that the Archdevil kept close to his chest. Secrets that nobody else knew, other than Baalphegor. It should have been Raphael to perish at birth. Instead, the spawn had survived and grown into his cambion form. His survival was a constant reminder of something painful that the Archdevil had no interest in reliving. Yet, there it was, time and again when the spawn faced him. Devils were complicated beings with complicated feelings, and Mephistopheles was no exception. His fascination with mortals and baring more children to use as his servants was a mixed bag.

Haarlep bowed his head. “Then I shall continue to remain at his side, your Highness.” He meant it, of course, a sly little smirk at his lips as his eyes returned to the Lord of the Eighth. “Soon, Raphael will not be able to take his eyes—or hands—from me.”

A grunt left the Archdevil’s throat in response, he needn’t get into those details when it came to his spawn. An incubus was a slave to sex, and so was Raphael when it came to his own reflection. The perfect gift, really, his son so in love with himself. It was almost too easy at times, but the pup had still gone astray.

“For over a thousand years, you have served me well. Let it be another thousand so long as you keep my wayward spawn in your twisted claws.” He gestured his hand to dismiss the creature, and Haarlep’s form changed back to the cambion’s as he turned and walked from the throne room.

CONTINUE READING ON AO3

[spindrifters]

2022 Fic Roundup

In the later half of this year, I came back to two foundational parts of myself. Writing fanfiction, and Harry Potter. I've built a career in creative writing, and somewhere along the line lost sight of the spark of joy that comes from writing transformative works. After a difficult summer, I rediscovered that spark. And for the longest time, in light of *all that*, I hadn't known what to do with Potter and its core place in my development as a conscientious person in the world. In the same dark moment I realized that, like all foundational sacred text, the series was meant to be grappled with. Wrestled. Read resistantly. And what better way to do that than with fic? I've only been back in the game since October, but I'm so happy to have made it back at all. More than anything, I appreciate the incredible community I've found along the way.

Huge shout-out to @soloorganaas for the inspiration!

October

marginalia (105k & counting, WIP, Wolfstar, E) - This story began a long time ago. That part is already written. Nothing can be done about it now. It began with two young men—barely more than boys—who upended the world, magical and mundane alike. Grindelwald and Dumbledore, glorious leaders of the revolution, who brought wizardkind out of hiding and into the light during those last, violent days of 1899. But a winter's night seventy-seven years later is where things really kick off. Because Remus Lupin knows what to expect when you’ve been sold somewhere new. He knows it better than he ever thought he'd have to by this point. He knows how to survive. And Sirius Black is doing his best to just graduate Hogwarts and get himself and his brother away from this goddamn house in one piece. He's got it figured out by now. He has a plan. Neither of them, however, had accounted for the other messing everything up by the sheer fact of just existing. The most AU.

There’s an exceptionally long moment of silence between them, and Sirius would look away if he could. Would put the burning shame simmering at the pit of his gut somewhere else, only Remus’ hand is still clasped tight around his own bleeding nailbeds, holding fast, and isn’t that a wonder? His hands are just as strong, just as calloused and scarred and warm as he remembers. Only this is the first time Remus has ever touched him willingly. With purpose. Not because he thinks he has to, or because Sirius touched him first.

love has teeth (444, microfic, gen, T) - Hope Lupin loves her husband, she really does, but she’s a child of the war and the political passions that came with it and on the whole she really hasn’t got the time nor patience for the astounding ignorance and stupidity of Wizarding Britain. (Or how, somewhere along the way, Hope Lupin became the pack mum.)

Hope teaches James to cook, and gives Peter advice on girls, and becomes single-handedly responsible for Sirius’ obsession with motorbikes after letting him ride on the back of hers. She introduces the lot of them to jazz and skiffle and tells them stories of growing up with Communist parents in post-war London.

civilian (339, microfic, Tedromeda, T) - They figure it out at a café on a rainy Tuesday in April. (Or, the one where Ted and Andromeda elope.)

Theirs is a history of secrets, stolen kisses in old school corridors and excuses made to his family why she can never seem to come for dinner and trying not to flinch whenever words like purity and mudblood come out of her parents' mouths.

November

until our ribs get tough (4.8K, gen, M) - From the lost papers and mixed-up files of the marginalia universe. A day in the life of one Lily Evans, age eleven, takes an unexpected turn involving a twisted ankle, some contraband essence of murtlap, and a rumination on the nature of miracles. Same AU as marginalia.

They used to do this all the time when they were little. Hide amidst the mothballs and piled boxes stored beneath the metal springs, especially when the rain poured down like this. It was easier, then, to ignore the world outside in order to create their own. Imagined kingdoms where they were king and queen, or adventurers on the high seas searching out treasure galleys to attack. They’d known to keep quiet, even then. It’s been a minute since they were here last, but even Remus’ recent growth spurts aren’t enough to take away what’s really a sacred space.

December

the helper (1.3K, gen Wolfstar, T) - Remus is facing his first Hanuká away from home. Sirius would like to help. For Hanukkah Wolfstar Week 2022.

Sirius is, by this point, extremely lost. He understands about half of what his friend just said to him. What he understands perfectly well, however, is how to recognize that nonchalant sort of half-shrug, that casual way Remus then goes on to insist that it’s not actually a big deal and he’s fine, really, and it’s not that important a celebration, anyway. He knows what those things mean. They mean that Remus Lupin’s a bloody liar.

death by honey (1.7K, Wolfstar, T) - Stuck at St. Mungo's during Hanuká, Remus has resigned himself to spending the holidays alone. Sirius has other plans. For Hanukkah Wolfstar Week 2022.

So he’s resigned himself to missing all that. Resigned himself to maybe even missing his muggle relatives altogether if this lunar fever doesn’t clear up in time. Instead, he gets the sterile, broken-tiled lycanthropy ward, and tinny Christmas music filtering down from the floor above, and the pinch-faced, suspicious company of two trainee healers who must have done something truly unfortunate to end up banished down here over the holidays. What he doesn’t expect is to wake up from a nap to find Sirius Black sitting in the chair next to his bed.

forward motion (854, Wolfstar AU, M) - Mary brings over a present. None of the menfolk know what to do with it. Wolfstar raises Harry AU. For Hanukkah Wolfstar Week 2022.

So maybe it feels more personal than it should, but Sirius can’t shake that terror of mucking this all up and letting down not just Harry but James and Lily and Monty and Euphemia, too. And Remus — who still has two living parents who love him dearly — may never have had to depend on the Potters to pick the broken pieces of himself up off their doorway, but he still feels that same terror. That same responsibility. Harry deserves a childhood full of laughter and love and fun.

commercial allure (1K, Wolfstar, T) - On the second-to-last night of Hanuká, Remus decides that enough is enough. Sirius would beg to differ. For Hanukkah Wolfstar Week 2022.

“Pads,” he says at last, because he wasn’t going to say anything. Because this is his best mate of six years but somehow it’s become damn near impossible for Remus to even look at him lately without feeling flushed and awkward and like he’s just sprouted hands for the very first time and hasn’t got the first clue what to do with them. But he’s just found a very nice and very expensive-looking eagle-feather quill on his bedside table, wrapped up in silver paper, and that is altogether impossible to ignore.

a history of violence (1K, Wolfstar, E) - In the wake of the war's end, Remus and Sirius are learning how to trust each other again. Lily and James live AU. For Hanukkah Wolfstar Week 2022.

Sirius kisses the scar that slashes down his brow and lid, a gentle reminder to keep talking. This is what they do now, in the days since the end of October. Since the end of the war. This is what they have to do. Secrets, after all, nearly cost them everything.

pomegranates (2.5K, Wolfstar, M) - Sirius runs away from home over the winter holidays of fifth year. The problem is, James is in India and Moony kind of hates her right now. Genderfuck AU with transfem Sirius and cisfem Remus. For Hanukkah Wolfstar Week 2022.

Lyall Lupin opens the front door of the small Mayhill flat he shares with his wife and daughter to find Sirius Black, cold and dripping in the rainy Swansea night, shivering violently in nothing but a set of outrageously expensive silk dress robes. His first instinct is to slam the door in the girl’s face. His second — that of a father, who’s seen his child in pain too many times — wins out. Sirius is bleeding from somewhere just above her hairline and looks as though she’s been on the receiving end of a Confundus Charm. He lets her inside.

the story goes (1.5K, Wolfstar, M) - Remus knows all about survival. It's in his DNA. A study on lycanthropy, the Jewish diaspora, a blended family, and two boys in love. For Hanukkah Wolfstar Week 2022.

No one can know. Dad reminds him of that all the time, in the summer before he goes to school. He needn’t bother. Remus was raised on stories of refugee ancestors fleeing Valencia massacres for Moroccan shores, grew tall on days celebrating Esther and Yehudit’s necessary deceptions. He knows how to hide what others fear without making a single part of himself small.

yours if you want it (1K, Wolfstar, M) - Facing their first holiday season living together, Sirius and Remus stumble towards creating new traditions. For Hanukkah Wolfstar Week 2022.

“I’m trying to tell you you're allowed to have things, you knob. You get to make it mean what you like. You want a Christmas tree? Let’s get a bloody Christmas tree. I’ve never had one before but sod it, I want one if it makes you happy. We’re allowed to make our own traditions. And if you like any of the poncy Yule shite you grew up with instead, we can do that, too. Because that’s still yours, if you want it. Get me? Not theirs. Yours.”

[itsevanffs]

Hihi!! I've been hyperfixating on tommary lately and I absolutely loved (In the dark!)! I wanted to see if u have any tommary/harrymort fics that u recommend.. preferably ones that feature a possessive Tom ^^ ty in advance

I guess this would be the right time to publicly declare my bookmarks as open? Everything on there is a hard rec, and I vigorously quality-check those... for my liking and my liking only. (Sorry, not sorry. They're there for me, after all.)

That being said, hmm. I've got a few you might like.

Below the cut: more (additionally to my bookmarks) Tomarrymort (Tomarry or Harrymort) recommendations with possessive/obsessive Tom in alphabetical order; NOT order of how much I enjoy them. I'd argue I enjoy them all equally, just in different ways.

Ps: thank you! I'm incredibly flattered you liked my work :D

and don't let the police know anything by littlecupkate https://archiveofourown.org/works/24920947

Ted Dirlod is dangerous, Harry Potter knows this for a fact, but the man was still his only hope at escaping a doomed fate. It is never wise to blackmail a crime lord. It is even more unwise(?) when said crime lord is obsessed with you. An expanded version of "praying to whatever's in heaven, please send me a felon"

Genuinely lovely? Ticks all my boxes, at least, and minimal angst, which is always a plus. That being said, you should probably read the work mentioned in the summary as well for context. But hey. Two cakes by one person ;) Can never go wrong, can it?

As Certain Dark Things Are to be Loved by Strange_Soulmates https://archiveofourown.org/works/6015619

Tom was Harry's best friend growing up and his first love. At eight, Harry gave Tom his first kiss before moving away. As a freshman in college, the name of the RA on the door across the hall is terribly familiar.

Also absolutely deliciously indulgent. Tom is a possessive terror and Harry loves him for it. Need I say more?

Harry Potter and the Search for Ancient Magic (series) by Snickerdoodlepop https://archiveofourown.org/series/1133141

Once Voldemort realizes that Harry Potter is his horcrux, his plans change drastically. So does Draco Malfoy's assignment for the school year. Harry's sixth year starts going very differently. Snape is on a mission. Harry needs to learn pureblood politics. Draco Malfoy is trying to convince Harry to forgive him. Voldemort finds himself visiting Harry Potter in his dreams. Everyone is realizing that no one is quite what they thought. And through it all, there's a mystery. What is Ancient Magic? Can Harry use it to save himself or will it pull him toward the dark side?

Honestly, genuinely, hands down the best fucking tomarrymort series I've ever read. Hard, hard rec from here. The first work is completed and the second is in progress, so it's a nice pile of words to chew through!

can't commit to anything but a crime by caelesti https://archiveofourown.org/works/27286483

Excitement is the word he does not dare utter, even in the privacy of his own mind. It’s wrong, he knows. These women are people, in their own right; people with fears and aspirations, with friends and families and dreams, and to have anything cut those lives short is nothing but tragic. To have anyone cut those lives short is nothing but condemnable. He doesn’t have James Potter’s laugh lines, but he does have his father’s innate flair for danger. He doesn’t have Lily Potter’s enthusiasm, but he does have her insatiable curiosity. (In every world, Harry will excel at finding the biggest spot of trouble available and sticking his nose in it.)

Hot serial killer serial killer hot. That's it, those are the thoughts. Please read.

Dripping Fingers by May_May_0_0 https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440826

When Harry finds Tom Riddle's diary he does not write 'Hello.' He does not write anything at all. He draws. Tom Riddle falls in love with the artwork. _________________ Sketch by sketch, drawing by drawing, the ink Harry pours into the diary manifests as creations in Tom's monochrome world.

Okay so if I'm the reincarnation of Shakespeare, May_May_0_0 is fucking... Ted Hughes. Which doesn't say much to your average viewer but that man wrote my favourite poem ever (the one I based my war fic off) and I hold him in very high regard. This story? It is poetry in its rawest form. Pure, condensed beauty. If you decide to read only one of the fics in this list, please choose this one.

Either must die at the hand of the other by Metalomagnetic https://archiveofourown.org/works/29356095

Voldemort survives the Battle of Hogwarts because Harry Potter had not been the one to kill him, as the prophecy demands.

When is Metalomagnetic not a master of words? When will I cease becoming breathless at every paragraph, at every cleverly twisted word that comes back and reveals itself so beautifully later?

Fine Line by galaxiesundone https://archiveofourown.org/works/26949952

Magic always leaves traces. The lingering darkness of Sectumsempra, combined with Harry’s nature as a horcrux, awakens the soul piece contained within Ravenclaw’s diadem. At twenty years old, Tom Riddle walks a fine line between man and monster, the devil and the light-bringer in one. His influence forces Harry to face an ancient enemy unlike anything he has faced before: temptation.

Long story short: Tom Riddle is Hot and Good At Being Hot and Harry truly doesn't stand a chance and I am here for it. Lord help me I love this fic to pieces.

Good Intentions by Strange_Soulmates https://archiveofourown.org/works/7035334

Five year old Harry Potter meets and befriends a seventeen year old Tom Riddle while hanging out at his dad’s station. James Potter decides to take Tom under his wing, using Tom’s connection with Harry to try and keep the teen grounded, even as he begins to investigate the Death Eaters, a dangerous organized crime group and their mysterious leader only known as Lord Voldemort.

The sheer potential of this fic. The horrible, terrible dread of future events that have yet to be revealed. I will cry.

Honey, Smoke, Shiver by machiavelli https://archiveofourown.org/works/16068062

Harry - Omega, only son of Lord Potter - is nothing more than a useful playing card in a political game of power and money, one that is bought by the famed Tom Riddle: powerful, dangerous, pureblood Alpha. Unsurprisingly, Harry loves being underestimated.

Machiavelli is always a rec from me. Sorry lads but that's the way it is. Never a moment where I won't recommend their stuff.

Sickly-Sweet Obsession by maquira https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259103

Quiet, studious Tom Riddle spends his first year thirsting after an older student—Gryffindor’s Quidditch Captain, Harry Potter. His crush is common knowledge, and even Harry finds it cute… at first. Possessiveness spawns monstrosities. Tom does all within his power to mess with Harry’s dating life. And one seemingly harmless crush spirals into something darker, begetting deadly consequences.

Again; the potential. Delicious. This will bloom into something beautifully twisted, I'm sure of it.

Stars, Hide Your Fires by Audair https://archiveofourown.org/works/27745546

Riddle’s undivided attention snapped to him with the swiftness of shattering glass. His turbulent magic receded from where it had besieged the shop. "You,” he breathed. Coiling in leisurely motions, the eager tendrils of his magic reached for Harry, swathing about his limbs and neck and chest with a liquid, flowing fascination. "I’ve been looking for you,” Riddle continued, tilting his head to the side and sweeping his gaze over Harry. It was an appraisal that felt simultaneously like the raking of iron nails and the tender drapery of silk. It was so familiar, and yet… so foreign. In the winding streets of Knockturn Alley, an intricate dance of mutual obsession unravels between twenty-three-year-old Tom Riddle and a time-travelling Harry Potter.

This work has recently been undergoing a rewrite, and I can tell you with certainty it's only gotten better for it. It's beautiful; the setting, the atmosphere, the vibes... Perfection. Captures Knockturn Alley's mood impeccably and does not disappoint a single moment.

the pleasure, the privilege by asterisms https://archiveofourown.org/works/21227528

It begins with Vernon Dursley's body, dead across the table. In which Voldemort is dosed with amortentia, and nothing is better for it.

Completed, terrifying... and gorgeous.

The Shrike (to your sharp and glorious thorn) by PaperWorlds https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380079

Shrike: A songbird with a sharply hooked bill, known for their habit of catching insects and small vertebrates and impaling their bodies on thorns, the spikes on barbed-wire fences, or any available sharp point. A young Harry Potter survives an attack by notorious serial killer Voldemort. Over a decade later, they meet again.

Lads I'm so desperate for an update from this fic that I might cry if I think about it for too long. I keep saying it and I'll say it again; this is one of those fics with amazing potential that are sure to never disappoint no matter what path they take. An incredibly hard rec.

To Raise a Servant by bluegrass https://archiveofourown.org/works/19780816

Tom had found the boy amidst pouring rain. He figured he'd always wanted a pet snake.

Surprisingly not quite as dark as the summary makes it seem? I certainly enjoyed it, though, and that's why it's on this list.

What He Grows To Be by Severus_divides_into_H https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042240

Tom Riddle is a frightening coil of darkness, cruelty, and greatness, and changing him is Harry’s only hope for saving people he loves. Going back in time, he takes Tom from the orphanage, but his optimism shatters with every year they spend together. Tom still longs for darkness. Tom stifles him in his possessiveness. Tom is fixated on him to the point of destroying the world just to keep him. But Harry loves him. And the future changes.

Beautiful. And absolutely terrifying. I've started crying mid-scene at least three times for this fic, and it honestly seems unfathomable if you haven't read it if you're on my profile, since I think this is one of the fics that have shaped my style and ambitions. It is what I aspire to be.

[itsuki-minamy]

“K SIDE: PURPLE 10”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

K - Side: Purple (Chapter List)

"Now he's tense!"

When Soma entered the room, that voice rang out.

About 10 men flocked to a section of a large spacious room. It looked like the cushions were scattered around the threadbare tatami mats, and that it was just a play area. He didn't have an intermediate basin, and he wondered if it was okay to bet in the area where everything was happening simply with a swing.

"Okay, here we go!"

The men pile up a wad of bills before the day, as invited by the tantalizing voice. Some are scorched and some are bloody. It is "loot" brought from the "battlefield". It is the custom of their predecessors that they often brought money, although they did not have much space or time to spend. Members of the underworld are obsessed with money.

"The pieces are ready. The game. Niroku no Ding!"

When the two dice emerged from under the bowl, the men cheered and sighed. Soma looked at him coldly. Although it was a life that could not be known tomorrow, they were both silly and funny, as they could be happy and sad like the eyes of a rhinoceros.

When…

Soma noticed that one of them did not tremble.

Their synonyms for black suits have been removed to expose the upper body. The impressive Japanese carved tattoos on his back, however, were mostly covered in red-black burns.

"Purgatory" Sword No. 3, Hiiragi Toma.

Soma's target person.

While he was sitting with one knee upright, Hiiragi was rolling a saber onto his side. He must have been stolen from "Scepter 4" during the last conflict. Like a swordsman, even the people of "Purgatory", who have an image of evil, are keeping a distance.

After breathing for a bit, Soma stood next to Hiiragi.

"Are you not feeling well, Hiiragi?"

"……"

Hiiragi looked at Soma with only his eyes. Eyes like a light buried in ash. Soma accepted the pressure of the line of sight, which would be to pass out just by looking directly at an ordinary person, with a smile.

"I have something I want to ask you. You have a little time, right?"

"Let's do it later."

Hiiragi replied briefly. Soma looked at the tatami in front of Hiiragi and shrugged slightly.

"Oh, that's right. Well, I'll wait for you here."

He took the cigarette out of the pack and lit it with the "lighter" to the left of him. Soma vaguely eyed the entire gambling house, smoking purple smoke. It was like the air that swayed there. A kind of atmosphere that is natural for "Purgatory" to breathe.

That's it.

"The pieces are ready. The game."

The hand, swinging the bowl, tried to reveal the rhino's eyes.

A steel-colored saber crashed against the tatami.

"Eh, aaaaaaaaaaagh?!"

Along with the screams, the finger swinging the bowl, rolled. Fresh blood overflowed from the cross section, staining the tatami mats red and black. As he distorted his face in severe pain, he was still screaming in anger.

"Well what are you doing, Hiiragi?"

He shook the saber like a great snake and cut his hand in half, but Hiiragi's face didn't show any change. The holly was fluffy, with a dull top.

"Soma."

"Oh?"

"In our group, I did this for the madman."

Soma laughed as he smoked a cigarette.

This guy must have been a newcomer who had just entered "Purgatory." If he had met a human named Hiiragi even if he was a little bit, he would never have been able to imitate such behavior. Or maybe it could just be an accurate statement, maybe he just wanted to use it as an excuse to use violence

Well, it doesn't matter what it is. Soma tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it with the toe of his shoe.

"It is not a game; do you think such an answer is valid just because you are an executive?"

Hiiragi didn't reply anything with a serious expression. As he gritted his teeth in anger, he stepped on the mat with his left foot. From the burns that cover that story, a flame of extraordinary skill coiled vigorously.

A red light flashed on Soma's left hand.

A high-pressure, high-temperature "whip" that stretches freely at his will. Squirming like a snake targeting his prey, the light shot through his left eye and leaped through the back of his head as it was.

The mutilated body, which lost its brain function, fell.

Hiiragi looked at Soma. That hand was still holding the saber.

"Don't do extra things."

Soma snorted like a fool.

"If you go crazy, it's hard to clean up afterwards. Wear that fine style only outside."

His ability is activated from the tattoo engraved on his back. His power as a combat afterburner was not used in such a room.

Hiiragi kept looking at Soma, but when he looked away as if he had lost interest, he stopped there.

"Clean it up."

"Yes."

Several members of the clan took control and began to clean the tatami mats, bundles and corpses surrounded by gushing blood. There is nothing to blame for the violence. Hiiragi is an executive, not because he is a newcomer to the place, but because Hiiragi is stronger.

There is nothing in "Purgatory" that can be called order. There is only one measure of strong or weak. Those who fought and survived are strong, and those who died are weak. And the weak and the dead are equally useless. That was the only reason the clan welcomed the "King of Violence".

"So, what?"

At Hiiragi's question, Soma finally remembered his business.

"Oh, yeah. Where is the other one who was with you now?"

"......"

"Baraki...?"

Hiiragi frowned. The guy should have been attached to Hiiragi's subordinates, but he doesn't seem to remember him.

Soma was shocked and explained in a way that Hiiragi could understand.

"Look, he came in a few months ago, "right hand" and..."

"Oh, that boy."

Humans who have received the installation of the "Red King" will surely destroy a part of his body with vicious energy as if reflecting the nature of Kagutsu. In Soma it was the little finger of the left hand, in Hiiragi's case it was the back and in Baraki's case it was the right hand.

The damaged part also serves as a means to activate different abilities. Sometimes it is quicker to say what he lost than to remember his face.

Hiiragi shook his head slightly.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in a while."

"That's right. My subordinate."

"I don't remember who lived and who died."

In "Purgatory", the death of a member of the clan is a daily event. Some die in battle with "Scepter 4", while others die in the inner circle of clan members, like the guy above. It seems that the martial arts group does not intend to remind the staff to be replaced to metabolize.

"He's either dead or trapped. It's not a weird story."

"Well, that's correct. I'm sure I haven't seen any other guys, and I'm sure they're gone."

"What's wrong with that guy?"

Looking back at Hiiragi's emotionless eyes, Soma shrugged.

"I got information to make money, but it seems they didn't tell me everything. So I thought I'd listen to you."

In this case, it would be more accurate to say "listen to the body" rather than "listen to the story." Hiiragi is also a person who originally belonged to an antisocial organization. So the story was fast.

"So he flew. Do you want to chase him?"

Not many members of the clan escape from "Purgatory". Originally, all who enter are daredevils who have no place in this world. There they can burn your life.

It is a group of lost people who do not know about the life and death of the moment, but there are exceptions to everything.

"I am sorry..."

Soma put his hand on his chin and pondered. From his own information from the registry, the question is whether traitors and fugitives can be left alone. "Purgatory" is not oscillating.

First of all, Kagutsu himself, who is the "King", must make him wonder if he doesn't believe that he belongs to the organization.

"So if you see him, you take a suitable frame."

"I understood."

Hiiragi laughed slightly. In fact, it is an order to kill. For Hiiragi, who has fallen from an antisocial organization to "Purgatory", the only thing that can burn his life is the exchange of lives with others.

As he held the saber, Hiiragi walked calmly. Seeing his back, Soma lit a cigarette again and inhaled purple smoke.

++++++++++

As he walked down the back alley so as not to expose himself, Noriya Baraki looked back many times.

There were no other figures than Baraki among the buildings where he rained heavily. Still, he couldn't shake the illusion that someone was chasing him, and he walked quickly with his shoulders hunched.

The dirty clothes that he was wearing, he took off a homeless person with bad luck, and although he smelled strong, he could not do otherwise. The black suit is synonymous with "Purgatory", he cannot wear such a thing forever.

He is no longer a member of "Purgatory".

Baraki belonged to "Purgatory" for the same reason that he joined the Ashima group. He thought it was a gathering of strong people. This is because there is one side that can exploit the weak as they please. So he gave Soma most of the information about the "assets" that he knew about and asked him to put them in the "Burning House". Even if he lost his right hand, he thought that, if he was a proof of a strong man, it would be like losing his little finger.

But…

Baraki realized that he was wrong.

"Purgatory" is not a group of strong men. It was a group of abnormal people.

The violence they wielded at will sometimes robbed the members themselves. Those facing the sword were killed. Those who fear were killed. And the unfortunate one was killed. Kagutsu Genji. That monster called "King" caused death and destruction just by being there. Literally, in "Purgatory", everyday life was next to death.

It is not an environment that can be tolerated by a decent nervous owner. Either they will die early or they will run away. And it's just one of them on a sunny day.

Baraki looked back again.

"Scepter 4" is not the only enemy of "Purgatory". Many anti-social organizations that establish conflicts, almost at random, also see "Purgatory" as their enemy. Similarly, those who strayed from there tended to be attacked more fiercely because there was no reception from the organization.

That is why he must hurry. Get what he wants and fly somewhere far away.

North or south, anywhere, out of reach of those monsters, somewhere far away.

When Baraki turned around for the third time, he appeared in the alley.

"Hey, Baraki."

While he was wearing the black suit, he was laughing, or not. He looks like he was laughing. Burns that jump from the edge of his lips to his temples make his face look like a smile.

"I've been looking for you. Where are you going?"

When he took a step to start running, his foot stopped. One in a black suit with a saber in hand blocked the way. The hand without the saber was badly burned, leaving only two fingers.

They both had familiar faces. They were under Hiiragi's orders.

The one with his "fingers" gasped.

"Hiiragi-san is looking for you."

The one with the burned "lips", he said.

"Which is better, being alive or charred? I'll let you choose according to the kindness of your former colleague."

Baraki put his right hand to his chest.

His heart was pounding hard like a bell and his usual face was bleeding. There was no escape because he was surrounded from the front and the back.

That means this alley, where he completely rains, has become his death.

From the moment he ran away, he had a feeling this would happen.

"Purgatory", "Scepter 4", Kagutsu Genji, Habari Jin. From the moment he got involved in the war of monsters that manipulated different abilities like burning dust, it was confirmed that his fate would be like this.

But still, he didn't want to die. He wanted to live.

Just that feeling propelled Baraki out of the swamp of despair. Baraki may have been small, but they weren't stupid enough to think they could live without doing anything.

If you want to live, you have to fight. It is a lodging business that is also run by those born in this world.

A flame came out of Baraki's right hand.

Guren's palm, which is one size larger than that of humans. The only weapon Baraki possessed colored the alleys that smoked in the rain red.

"Ku."

"Lips" in the back he laughed, and "fingers" in front of him raised his burned hand in front of his face and muttered.

"Yes. You will be charred."

(That's what will happen to you!)

Instead of yelling, he spat, and Baraki kicked the ground and raised his fiery hand towards "fingers".

++++++++++

Under the eaves in front of the station, Hase waited with his bag.

He had been raining lightly since morning, but he didn't have an umbrella due to Hase's nature. As he practiced, Mishakuji suddenly remembered that he was waving a wooden sword while turning into a wet mouse, regardless of whether it was raining or snowing.

Hase noticed Yukari and smiled.

"Oh. You came, Yukari. It's early!"

As Yukari smiles, he tips his umbrella and walks over to Hase.

"Sensei. There are still 30 minutes until the meeting time."

He hears that the place they were heading to from now on, where Miwa Ichigen lives, was in the mountains, which took almost half a day from here. However, Hase's luggage was a bad backpack and there seemed to be no decent change of clothes. With a strange look, Hase also looked at the carrying bag dropped by Yukari with similar eyes.

However, there is only one thing the two people have in common.

Yukari has a sheath that hangs from his shoulder and Hase has a sheath that hangs from his back. To put it the other way around, if you have this, you don't need any other luggage.

"Did you say hello to Sayuri-san before you left?"

Hase wondered such a thing as they entered the station together. Yukari shook his head.

"No, it looks like she was drinking late last night, so I left without saying hello."

"Haha, that's right. Well, it's the beginning of her beloved son. Maybe we all wanted to celebrate."

"It doesn't mean I won't be back."

Hase slaps Yukari's wet back with his big palm.

"I know, I know! You are a man of your word, don't worry!"

Having said that, he laughed at his arrogance.

Dissatisfied Yukari's lips were sharp. Still, it wasn't as frustrating as It used to be. He can always go back to "Nibangai". He will always be able to find the people who live there. That is why Yukari was motivated to take a step into a larger world, as they expected.

He only knows Miwa Ichigen from Hase's story. He's not an eloquent person, but his sword skills were the most beautiful thing Yukari had ever seen in his life. Every time he thought of Miwa's sword, who made Hase say, "I've never seen anything more beautiful than that.", he was excited.

He wanted to see it as soon as possible and, if possible, he would like to make adjustments and acquire it. Driven by painful expectations, Yukari was encouraged and headed for the ticket vending machine.

A roar echoed from a distance.

"……"

A heavy and low sound, like the sound of the earth. Yukari stopped and turned to that side.

The moment he instinctively felt that "Nibangai" was in the right direction, he heard the second sound.

It was a continuous roar. The sound of something exploding and burning, like you heard in war movies. Perhaps Hase noticed that, he turned his face towards him with his dull expression.

The two jumped out of the station at the same time.

Black smoke billowed in the direction of "Nibangai" past the shops and multi-tenant buildings lined up in front of the station. When swallowed it, a red-black explosion broke out many times. At the sight of the rain, the reflection of the flames that stained the streets red was reflected in Yukari's eyes like something terrible.

"Hey, Yukari! Wait!"

Hase's voice came from behind and, for the first time, Mishakuji realized that he was running.

Still, his legs didn't stop. He dropped the bag that was obstructive, and just grabbed the wooden sword that he had taken out of the sheath, Yukari ran in a straight line. Heading for his hometown, "Nibangai" surrounded by smoke and flames.

[owlsbride]

Icha Icha and Prejudice: The Book Club

Chapter IV: That Inner Voice

Eleven o'clock in the morning and Sakura was already upset. It was her first official vacation day, and it didn't start it as she had hoped. She had planned to sleep late, wake up in the most glorious and easy possible way with the felling of a long needy rested body. After all, she had to realise that Shizune and the Hokage were right, she needed to rest for a while, she was reaching the limits of her strength, and like this, she wasn't going to last long. So even if she was still a bit mad about the resolution, she finally came to terms with it, and it was ok.

What she has not been able to imagine was that after her furious outburst in the Hokage Tower, yesterday night, she would find herself immersed in a crazy game that Kakashi planned in less than a minute just to annoy her, disturb her, and of course, tease her. Dammed, he was smart. God, she hated that man.

'Yeah, tell yourself that till you believe it.'

Suddenly, she repeated Kakashi's recent message in her mind with a highly pitchy tone. It was not her sensei's voice, though.

'Hello there, Sakura.'

So she was back. After years of silence, her bitchy inner Sakura's voice came back to torment her mind and life. She turned on the bed, sinking her head in the pillow ready to grumble, and silent a scream of fury trying to escape from her frustrating throat. Perfect timing for the remarkable comeback. Perfect timing.

After her teen years, Sakura, under the Godaime tutelage, decided that inner Sakura was no longer necessary. She was pretty capable of analysing all the facts in front of her as well as her feelings, thoughts and attitudes, she no longer needed her alter ego to push her to act in this or that way, nor to show her the right path when she was lost. Generally, the correct direction of the inner Sakura was always the wrong one, but that she had only been able to see it after her failed attempt of relationship with Sasuke or any other man in the village.

The inner Sakura was impulsive, arrogant, prejudiced, and without a doubt much more daring than Sakura herself, and that did not suit her.

So, one morning, and just like that, the work, stress and the effort to make her inner voice disappeared went straight to the trash been, cause she was loudly back.

'Don't tell me that you didn't miss me.' the voice in her head said almost sad.

"No, I didn't. Not even a tiny bit." Great, now Sakura was talking to herself out loud.

'You are harsh with both of us, Sakura'

"No, I'm not. I worked hard for you to shut up, so, please..." Sakura pleaded.

'And yet, here I am.'

"What do you want?"

'The question is, what Do You want' annoying or not, inner Sakura's question was accurate and sharp. What was what she wanted?

"Arghh... fine! If you are here to stay, I hope, at least, for you to be useful."

'I'm all yours. Now get up, girl, we have things to do.'

Sakura finally accepted that the voice was back and resolved to went through everything with her in her mind. She didn't have much of an option, cause apparently, inner Sakura was not going to disappear any time soon. It was better to have a good relationship with her mind at this moment. Three weeks off was too much to think on her own. Maybe she had called her back. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism to go through her own personal hell with Icha Icha. Inner Sakura could be much more helpful with her sharp, bold thoughts. She was a natural teaser and a skilful trickster at times. She was the not so innocent part of her mind that incited thoughts that Sakura preferred to suppress. The inner Sakura's silence was what had allowed her not to have sex in all this time, putting all her libido in her work, making her see each man who passed by the hospital as an object of study and not as a possible good laid. Except maybe for Kakashi.

Hatake Kakashi, the Rokudaime, her Lord Sixth, her eternal sensei. The very same, that when he got sick or came back injured from a mission, he just wanted to be cared for by her. The one used to listen to her ramblings every day about new ideas, supporting all her projects. The one that one way or another was always by her side. Kakashi, the man with silver hair who aroused the entire village's curiosity and sighs even though no one, not even her, knew what was under the mask. The same man who could be severe enough to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but who also read Icha Icha in public and even dared to flirt with her without shame or openness.

'You're so into him.' Inner Sakura spoke again suppressing a laugh.

"Oh please, It's not like that." Sakura dismissed her.

'How long are you going to live in denial, Sakura?'

"What do you mean?"

'Can't you see it for your own?'

"No..."

'Thank god I'm here then.'

Sakura stopped the conversation with her inner self because she really needed a cup o coffee first. She had spent the first hours of her morning texting with Kakashi and talking to herself, and it was already exhausting. How was she supposed to survive both of them? Passing by her living room to the kitchen, Sakura directed her view to the orange book on the table. Sooner or later, she would have to start reading. But first thing first: Breakfast.

After almost half an hour, Sakura finally was ready to face her destiny and her thoughts.

'Are you ready?' Inner Sakura was jumping all over her mind like a child in a kermesse.

"I guess..." Sakura answered nervously sitting in her couch, crouching her legs and taking the book in her hands.

'Imagine the things he had done with that book' Her mind was torturous libidinous.

"Let's just don't think about it, ok?"

'Oh, come on, don't act as if you were a virgin Sakura... Just imagine, the shower, the couch, the bed...'

"Please, don't be grossed" Sakura answered blushing deeply. Something burning was forming inside of her, and she was sure it wasn't just her chakra.

'You slut, you have already thought about that. You are so hot with him.' Inner Sakura was celebrating.

"Shut up."

Chapter I: The sunset. The light was slowly extinguishing on the cornfields making the shadows that were projected throughout the space even more orange. The summer rain's soft scent had left a persistent sweet aroma mixed with the lavenders that were only a few meters from where she was standing. The heat and humidity created a soft layer of sweat on her body, mixing her own body scent with that of her surroundings. She knew that she must have run away as soon as she saw him arriving at the village. Instead, she only could make it to the cornfield, a familiar place for both of them.

So cliche, Sakura thought with a grin on her face. She was sure that Kakashi was having it way harder than her. Though she had to recognise that even if Jiraiya didn't have Jane Austen's prose, it wasn't that bad. So far, it was an easy, perfectly innocent reading.

'Really Sakura? is that what you are thinking? A neat prose?' Inner Sakura jumped in her mind again a bit upset because up to now Sakura wasn't able to find nothing too thrilling in the first pages. Sakura didn't pay her any attention and kept reading, she was starting to relax about this whole thing of Kakashi's little obsession. It wasn't that bad.

He followed her without hesitation. He knew he would find her staring at the horizon, waiting for the night breeze to cool her feverish skin. She had always liked to feel the summer wind run across her ivory skin, bristling the hair on her arms, making her shiver. Her tousled hair floating freely, like her thoughts. He knew he would find her there, and right there, he would claim her just for himself.

Sakura sighed, the things were already starting to heat up but in a really smooth and slow path. The Sannin knew how to build tension and, what she heard Ino said once, a good slow-burn romance scenario. Inner Sakura was in silence, and she was immensely enjoying the reading. Actually, she was starting to think that she could spend the entire day at home reading. After all, it wasn't that hard.

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

Sakura looked for her cellphone. Inner Sakura was already starting to complain about the interruption, but she suddenly stopped.

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:30 H.Kakashi: Yo!

18:30 H.Kakashi: What are you doing, Sakura?

Sakura didn't know if to answer and play difficult, Inner Sakura was highly excited about those short, silly messages. Of course, Sakura answered, she had to follow the inner lead.

18:32: Hello, Sensei

18:32: Reading, you?

Sakura didn't come back to the book. She just fixed her stare in the device in her hand.

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:35: H.Kakashi: And?

Kakashi wasn't going to answer her, she was sure. She would have to give him something first. She knew her sensei like the palm of her hand.

18:36: It's ok so far

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:36 H.Kakashi: What?

18:36 H.Kakashi: Just ok?

18:37 H.Kakashi: Do you even know how to read, Sakura?

Sakura burst to laugh out loud in her home alone. He was such a spoiled child.

18:40: Yes Hokage Sama, it's ok, I haven't read much yet.

18:40: What about you? Working? Reading?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:41 H.Kakashi: Actually, both.

18:41: And?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:42 H.Kakashi: Work, awful, reading, quite interesting.

18:42 H.Kakashi: Tell me, Sakura, is it possible?

Sakura asked herself what was he talking about, Inner Sakura, invited to re questioned him.

18:45: What?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:46 H.Kakashi: To have five daughters and take care of all of them, in a simple civilian life, plus a wife and listen to them all the time talking without a stop

Sakura laughed again.

18:47: So... You are feeling bad for the poor Mr Benett, right?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:47 H.Kakashi: Who wouldn't...

18:48 H. Kakashi: Listen Sakura...

And for a moment he didn't say anything more.

18:55: What now?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:55 H.Kakashi: Would you like to have dinner? Unless you already have plans. We don't need to talk about the books, in fact, we don't have to talk at all

Sakura stood frozen. What was wrong with him. Even if it was just a simple text, she could read need in his words.

'Don't you dare to say no' Inner Sakura adverted, forming a fist with her imaginary hand.

19:00: Rough day?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

19:00 H. Kakashi: You can't imagine.

Sakura smiled.

19:01: Then you'll have to tell me.

[the-river-person]

Worldbuilding Tangent Part 2

First bit here. Now I wanna talk about the Forest and Snowdin Town. Obviously the name is a pun based on Snowed in. But why is there snow there? They’re underground. It shouldn’t work like that. This one is gonna be a bit long because I’m prone to rambling, but I had fun... so yeah. (Also, a reminder that these are my own observations and analysis of the Game’s text and that despite my obsessive researching of caves and such, as well as my attention to textual evidence, it is still only my interpretation of how this area MIGHT work if we attempt to apply real world systems to a video game world that was almost certainly not made with reality in mind. It’s also possible that I misunderstood or don’t know enough about the trees or natural systems described and that things couldn’t work that way without some kind of magic, whether that of the Monsters or some natural source of it.) I’ve heard some theories about snow falling through openings in the mountain above them, and while I do think such openings exist, they aren’t likely to be the direct cause of the snow. This is because snow falling through them would need to be in single spots or piles directly beneath the hole and not evenly spread out like a winter wonderland. A second bit of evidence for this is that when we go to fight Papyrus, or in fact pass through that exact spot even later in the game, we are subjected to a fade out screen with a snowy pattern, which is implied to be a snowstorm of some kind. So some kind of weather exists here Underground. This lets us know that the specific cave Snowdin sits in is big enough to have its own weather system which gives everything a fairly even level of snow, freezes ponds into patches of ice, and coats the pines of the forest with a dusty white. When you first exit the ruins and have the purple stone wall behind you, there appears to be a thick forest of trees on on both sides, the right side appearing to be a drop off until you pass trees that go between screen and controllable character, indicating that this side has the same trees as the opposite side of the path. The trees of this part of the forest have no hint of green leaves or needles on them, which might suggest that they be high up on the tree itself. After some research on trees that could survive very cold temperatures and were fairly hardy but still seemed to match the image I see on screen, I’m guessing that these are either a fictional species of conifer, or they are White Spruce Trees which have lost their lower branches as their upper branches grew thicker to catch any sunlight streaming from holes and openings in cave ceiling. It is possible that these trees might be petrified and very old, but its unlikely as we see ordinary pines growing elsewhere in the Forest. There has to be natural openings for light enter into the Underground which are not enough for someone to see stars through, yet are big enough or plentiful enough that light for the forest to survive is possible. Due to the river we see in this part of the forest there is plenty of water for the trees to survive. Since there is no tree in the world that can survive a permanent winter, and no new trees can grow without some kind of melting of snow and ice, we are left with a few options. Either the trees are very old, which is possible since the average age of White Spruce is 250-350 years but trees up to 1,000 years have been found, or Snowdin Forest area has some kind of seasonal cycle with a very short warm season and a long cold season. However there are some problems with the idea of a cycling season. We know in the books of Snowdin Library this passage is found, “Fearing the humans no longer, we moved out of our old city, HOME. We braved harsh cold, damp swampland, and searing heat... Until we reached what we now call our capital. “NEW HOME.”” By which we know that the different biomes of the Underground existed before the Monsters lived there and are not a result of their magic. And though none of the Monsters we’ve seen actually require a permanent cold environment to survive, there is no mention at all of a warm season. Even the name of the area and the town is Snowdin, indicating that the snow is probably perpetual. So our cave must be big enough to have a weather system yet cold enough to maintain snow and ice for a long time even with openings in the roof for a Taiga Biome forest to survive. Ice Caves are naturally occurring cave systems that reach cold enough temperatures to form Ice and Permafrost. Several factors can cause or contribute to the formation of Ice caves. Two relevant types of these are Evaporative Cooling and a Cold Trap. Because the trees we see had to have had a period without snow and ice in order to spread their seeds and begin to grow before the eternal Winter of Snowdin, we can probably guess that at one point this cave was quite warm. It had a significant amount of water, though it was unlikely to be as wet as Waterfall. It was also home to mountainous areas and vast lowland areas as well as mostly limited sunlight. The Cavern was big enough to contain a weather system of its own, allowing for rain and humidity. Since we know that to reach the entrance to Snowdin Forest in the game we have to go down the stairs in Toriel’s home, this puts the First section of the forest at the same level as the ruined city we saw a glimpse of earlier in the game. But this part of the forest is actually situated on what might be some sort of cliff or mountainous area. The game’s path leads across the flat peaks of the area, but allows you to see brief glimpses of vast valleys with forests made from a more Christmas Tree like tree than the ones we see immediately outside the door to the Ruins. We also see the river briefly at the very beginning, but not during the long period where we are traversing the peaks. When it reappears immediately behind Snowdin, which is indicated to be at the other end of the cave with the rock wall immediately on the other side of the river, its becomes likely that the river followed the wall of the cave all the way around and that the player went the opposite direction across the highlands. The valleys themselves are far lower than the peaks you traverse, which would put them lower than even the City of Home in the Ruins. If Frisk climbed the mountain and fell to the Ruins, and the level below those is Home and the Snowdin Highlands, then the Snowdin Valleys are probably well below the normal ground level of the Surface world outside the mountain. Some have suggested that like the bridge into Snowdin Town, the background of valleys might also be painted murals done by Papyrus or some other monster. Due to the moving sprites of the tiny house and its occupant as seen from the cliff next to the Mysterious Door, as well as the fact that the landscape moves differently than the rest of the setting as the player walks, it’s absolutely certain that it is a real landscape and not a painting. Returning to the Ice Cave idea we have sufficient moisture to begin Evaporative Cooling, which involves water being warm enough for evaporation and causing warm moist air to flow out exits of the cave and cold dry air of Winter to enter the cave. Its possible that some of the entrances are high on the mountain, only allowing cold air to enter, but since the cave is so vast there would need to be multiple sunlight allowing entrances in the ceiling, and they can’t all be in the highest snowy peaks but in various places on the mountain and in the foothills. Our water would have been warmed by the same processes that keep Waterfall from freezing over from Snowdin’s cold in the present day, the thermal forces of Ebbot’s Volcanic core. That and sunlight would have caused Evaporative Cooling to kick into gear. Normally Ice Caves caused by Evaporative Cooling have yearly cycles where the flow of air reverses and warm air is sucked into the cave instead of cool air. Which at one point was probably how the cave worked, allowing for the growth of trees that would flourish in the Taiga like conditions that would have begun to form. The larger trees of White Spruce and the smaller trees, which are probably Douglas Firs because some varieties are estimated to live at least to 500 years and well beyond 1,000 at most, would have been able to grow from seeds fallen into this area and possibly enough to seed more. But then something happened which stopped the process. The area grew just cold enough to form a Cold Trap. This operates on a lot of the same principles, with convection drawing cold winter air into the cave while any warm air is sucked outward. The difference is that due to the cold air in the cave being significantly colder than the air outside during all points of the year, the process doesn’t reverse but remains static during the Summer and continues drawing in cold air during Winter. But how did the cave get cold enough to start that process? It was likely that the volcanic activity of the Mountain was greater at that point and then as time went on the Magma either cooled or receded further from the area, letting the evaporation stop during the coldest part of the cycle, kicking off the Cold Trap. So by the time the Monsters arrived it was growing cold and most plant life in this part of the Underground was dead or hidden in smaller warmer caves. The river flowed too fast to be frozen solid, and the trees were able to survive but not put out new seeds because no new warm season ever came. It’s possible that the Snowdin Cavern will grow colder and colder as time goes on, or it might maintain its temperature. I’m not sure exactly as far as that goes. But I do know that unless something changes the perpetual winter in the area all the trees will eventually die and the Forest will probably just be a lot of dead frozen trees, or they’ll rot with a bit of moisture and come crashing down. There are areas here and there as you make your way through Snowdin Forest where we see only the tall trees with mostly barren lower trunks within the screen’s view and only blackness beyond them. Both before and after these sections we catch glimpses of the vast valleys and hills of the cave, which means that these patches are not cave wall, but areas of mountain top forest so thick that the light is being obscured. One theory might suggest that the trees are attempting to grow towards the openings in the cave ceiling to get as much light as possible, or that only the huge trees in the areas directly beneath the openings were able to survive, leaving the smaller Firs to take over the lower valleys and hills, which makes sense since that species needs much less light than the White Spruce trees. Now that I’ve established some plausible explanations (Hopefully) for how this cave might work, let’s take a quick look at how much space is being used. We know that the Town itself is on a cliff at the edge of the large cave. In fact its partially inside the cave that leads to Waterfall.We know this because the River, which joins up with us again behind the town, has a natural rock wall behind it, suggesting that the town is actually more enclosed than most of Snowdin’s peaks, even if it is connected to them by a bridge. Our peaks are probably gigantic groups of stalagmites formed who knows how long ago and flattened or broken at the tops somehow, allowing for forests to take seed on accumulating soil. (It is possible that they are Hornitos or some other type of volcanic formations from Ebbot’s volcanic activity, especially since areas of the Underground were almost certainly initially carved out by flowing magma and then altered as water and weather took their toll over time. But most volcanic based Speleothems are significantly more fragile than limestone and water based ones, so its possible, but not likely. Aside from the town and the single house we get to see in the valley, we see no signs that this area is being put to significant use. It’s not a matter of not enough Monsters, because we know that hundreds of them dwell in the Underground and that more and more are crowding to the city, mostly in hope that they’ll be free to escape to the surface soon. There are some monsters and animals living in the forests themselves, but for all the sheer size of Snowdin Caverns, it seems mostly empty. There could be instances out of sight where Monsters have made their homes. Small caves dug into the side of cliffs and plateaus could be made into perfect little houses, and groups of houses, factories, or even greenhouse farms could be set up in areas the player can’t see in game. But it would all be conjecture as there is no in game evidence that this is so for the Snowdin Cavern.

[ickle-ronniekins]

in every lifetime, fred x reader

request: from @fredweasleyismyking91: I just read your George soulmate au and I’m obsessed. I love soulmates so much and that one was amazing. I’d love to read a Fred soulmate if you were ever up for it!

prompt: soulmate au in which characters have specific phrases their soulmates will say to them written on their wrists like tattoos—they will now know they are soulmates until the first one speaks the phrase

A/N: literally losing my shit. thank you for this request and for your kind words. reader is american and i made this after the war bc i do not live in a universe where my poor freddie doesn’t survive—I JUST LOVE HIM, ALRIGHT? also, sorry this is insanely long but it’s worth the read, i hope?

You stared blankly at your wrist in the middle of a very crowded, very bustling Diagon Alley. London was not at all what you’d expected. You peered quickly at the words. Won’t cost you a dime.

You thought it was silly, at first, the words your soulmate will speak to you, tattooed on your body. It looked absolutely ridiculous. It looked like the absolute dumbest quote in the history of the world. You found it to be quite annoying, really. When your parents told you what it was, you nearly snorted. You were just a young child. It sounded like the silliest thing in the entire world to you.

But as you grew older and more curious, you searched Ilvermorny for a glimpse—maybe your soulmate was here? It’d make the most sense, of course, for him to be prancing around the American wizarding school somewhere, close by—you weren’t planning on leaving America after graduating, anyway. But there was no one—not a soul—who gave you that feeling of hope, that feeling of… that must be him.

Oh but your friends absolutely loved to play that game. Picking and choosing, glancing anxiously at the phrases on their wrists, peering admiringly at your schoolmates and deciding which ones they’d like to spend the rest of their lives with, how they’d finally find them, when it would happen—at least before the age of twenty four—well, that’s what your parents had said, anyway. Your friends’ phrases were, to your dismay, much more sophisticated and seemingly more exciting and well—a bit more special than yours. Won’t cost you a dime. Absolutely bogus.

This game they were playing was, of course, based mostly on looks and not at all on personalities, but rather just their dreams and what they so desperately wished their lifetime of love would look like. Plus, you were all still so young, all they wanted to do was have a little fun, didn’t they?

So they dated, even though these people hadn’t said the words they yearned for. No reality had seemed to set in yet. Not one of them had found their soulmate. You supposed, watching them, you could do the same thing. But what was the point in dating someone you knew wasn’t the person you’d spend your life with? You opted out. You just wanted to wait for him. He’d say the words when the time was right. It would all be worth it, wouldn’t it?

As the years went on, you did seem to mostly forget about the words on your body, fading lightly. In the bustle of your busy life, it wasn’t something you necessarily tried to focus on, like all of the others around you, searching faces in the crowd, desperately trying to find the ones. When it’s time, it’s time, you kept telling yourself. But the fear that you’d never actually find him did nestle itself in the back of your mind—you never, ever, ever let yourself touch that thought. Not even a little.

You were rapidly approaching the age of twenty two. You’d finished Ilvermorny, began your studying to eventually be able to teach there, and tried to not focus on what everyone else seemed to be so obsessed with.

And on your twenty second birthday, you were offered the position of a teacher—not at Ilvermorny, no, but at the wizarding school across the pond. Yes, you were moving to London.

It was terrifying and exciting and exhilarating at the same time.

And so you packed your things, said farewell to your parents, and ended up in a very tiny, one bedroom apartment in the middle of London, just a few streets down from Diagon Alley—the bustling street where all witches and wizards went for their school supplies—and you supposed, professors, too.

Well, you knew what you needed to do.

Which brings you to now.

Somebody bumped into you while running through the street. “Sorry, love,” they said, and were off in a flash, barely noticing the shift of your body on the middle of the cobblestone. And then, a flash of light, and a ton of rain.

Was London notorious for its rainy days? You didn’t know, this was your first time here, of course. And where on earth was your umbrella?

As you’d dreaded—back at your half unpacked apartment, probably collecting dust at the bottom of one of your many, many boxes that still needed to be unloaded. Brilliant.

You ran into the store nearest you, quickly running through the flash flood, soaked to the core—your long hair dripping along the carpet. You didn’t know what to expect when entering the shop, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

It was probably the most colorful room you’d ever seen in all your life. Bright hues of orange and green and purple and red made the shop seem even much bigger than it was—loads of toys and supplies were making many sounds that seemed to reverberate off of the walls. Students and children and parents alike were chattering animatedly and peering admiringly at all of the inventions that were stocked very highly on the shelves. It was rather bustling, indeed.

“Looking for anything in particular?” a cool voice asked. When you turned around, a red haired man in a brown suit looked at you with wide eyes. “Bloody hell—get caught in that rain, did you?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” you told him. Was he the owner, perhaps? “Do you have a restroom or something I can wash up in?”

Another man who looked exactly like him sauntered over and asked his twin, “Georgie, I’ve just—lord, you alright, love?”

Love? Does every man in this country call women that? Not quite like America. Still, you couldn’t help but grin a little. “I’m fine—just wondering if you have a place I could dry off, maybe—”

George, the first one, said to you, “We’ve got dry towels—let me go and fetch them for you—”

“Believe there’s a sweatshirt in the pile of clean laundry too, mate, if you want to grab that,” the second one said.

You shook your head and said, “No, no, I’m fine, really—I live just up the way—just a towel will do.”

“Nonsense,” he told you, motioning for you to follow him. “C’mon, we’ll make you a bit of tea to warm you up,”

Okay, so, definitely the owners. They seemed so young to own such a successful shop in the middle of the busiest street in London. They couldn’t be older than twenty two, twenty three? How on earth were they handling all this chaos?

You’d learned a lot in your short time at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. It was a prank shop, basically, run by two boys who, although adults, did seem to love acting like children. Born and raised as two kids who wanted more than anything to continue making people laugh, even in the darkest of times, they’d hatched this plan at the mere age of five, and they’d not once teetered off track. Not very pleasing to their mother, you learned, who’d spent her lifetime watching over seven mischievous children, but she’d softened when she’d realized how well off they were, especially after the war you’d heard all about when you were back home.

As you pulled your still damp hair back into a high ponytail, you said to them both, “Well, thank you both very much—not exactly how I’d imagined my first day in London to be, but—I appreciate you taking me under your wing.”

With a swift goodbye as George was pulled away by customers, he told you, “Visit soon!” The other man stood in front of you with a concerned look in his eyes.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

You laughed softly. “I promise, yes. Thank you…”

“Fred,” he said, taking your hand in his.

You bit your bottom lip. “Y/N...well, thanks, again—I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“I hope so,” he said and winked. Was he seriously flirting right now? You glanced quickly at your wrist, taking a deep breath in. Was it him? Probably not. There were millions of others in Europe. You were strangely sad at the thought. You barely knew this guy. And who knew? Your soulmate could still be back home. Fred brought you back to reality when he asked, “Visit soon, yeah?”

You scratched the top of your head and grinned at him. “Yeah, soon...have a good night.”

And so your first night in London hadn’t gone exactly as planned. But what did you expect, really? Chaos. Always.

You were met the next morning with sunshine flooding through your apartment and boxes that needed unpacking. You groaned at the thought. Instead, you made your way into Diagon Alley again, this time determined to be able to shop more of the little stores in the sunlight, not having to escape the street due to flash flooding.

It was hot. You were surprised how hot it was. Your pale green sundress swung at your sides, and you pulled your long hair into a side braid to get it off of our neck. And as you’d assumed, the street was incredibly busy. But you didn’t seem to mind. You loved the bustle of the city.

You clumsily tripped over the cobblestone in your sandals, bumping hard into someone next to you. Looking down at their feet and regaining your composure, you said, “I’m so terribly sorry—”

“Back again, are we?”

It was Fred, the man from yesterday. He was smirking at you with his hands in his pockets.

“Well hey, Fred.”

His raised his eyebrows at you, seemingly impressed with the fact that after one brief meeting, you could tell him and his twin brother apart. “Impressive, honestly, nobody can really tell us apart except our mum,”

You smiled and glanced down at your shoes, biting your bottom lip.

“Listen, I’m about to grab a bite—and you certainly look like you could use a bit of a break,” he glanced down at the many bags you had in your hands, “care you join me?”

You went against your better judgement. Two days in a row you’d run into this man you barely know, and you’d already managed to have his sweatshirt, towel, and a pair of sweatpants in your apartment, and now he was inviting you for a bite to eat. An adventurous few days you were having, indeed. The field day your friends would be having with this information—

“Okay,” you told him, pushing the thought away and following him across the crowded street where he grabbed your hand and cut through very busy traffic.

“So,” he asked when he finally stopped walking. “Favorite flavor of ice cream?”

“Chocolate chip cookie dough,” you said immediately, not even thinking on it.. “And you?”

“I dunno,” he said truthfully, cocking his head to the side and looking up at the sky. “It changes daily. Ready?”

He pulled you closer towards the shop you were in front of, and when you looked up, you noticed a sign that read: Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour.

Confused, you asked, “This is the bite you meant?”

“Yeah,” he told you matter-of-factly, reading your face for any sign of amusement. “C’mon, America, don’t tell me you’ve never had ice cream for lunch before.”

You smiled at him. America. What the hell—it was adorable, and you were nearly melting into a puddle in front of him. What were you doing? It was the accent, it had to be—and that red hair. God, the things your friends would be saying—

You pushed his arm softly and told him, “I shall have you know that I have definitely had ice cream for lunch.”

“Good,” he smirked, taking your hand in his and pulling you inside. “Let’s go, then.”

And after this second day in Diagon Alley, your afternoon meet up with Fred for ice cream from Florean Fortescue’s became a daily thing. It was addicting, this ice cream—absolutely nothing like you’d had back home, and thank goodness Diagon Alley was so large, because you were able to walk off those calories in a heartbeat.

As the summer dragged on and the impending school year drew nearer, you’d kept returning to the street—of course, for your school supplies, yes, but also to see him. You’d find yourself, every so often, glancing down at your wrist, looking at the silly phrase, wanting to forget about your soulmate altogether. You found yourself covering it with bracelets and watches, hoping that Fred would never see it and never have to ask about it.

You’d spent many afternoons in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, as well.

It proved to be very difficult to leave every evening, actually.

What were you doing?

You needed to draw yourself back. You needed too. You didn’t want to end up heartbroken, in a foreign city, before starting a new job in a new place with new people. It was a disaster in the making. You needed, more than anything, to protect your heart.

And so just a couple of days before the start of term, you slowly made your way into the shop, ready to tell Fred that you wouldn’t be seeing him for a long time, as term was about to begin, when he met you at the front of the store.

“Y/N! Glad to see you this morning,” he said brightly, coming round the bend of the back end of the store. “Now, when you get to Hogwarts in four days time, remember to tell Minerva McGonagall how fond you are of me and George—I reckon she’ll be so pleased you know us,”

You cocked your head to the side and placed your hand on your hip, smiling sweetly at him. “Why do I have the feeling that she’d actually be less than impressed at that?”

Pretending to fall backwards, Fred told you, “I’m heartbroken you think that, Y/N,”

I’m just heartbroken, you thought dramatically, shaking the thoughts from your head at how absolutely overly emotional you were being. Ridiculous. “Freddie listen, I—”

“Ooh, we’ve got just the thing for your classroom—it’s bloody brilliant, c’mon, you have to take it—it’ll be a good luck present, on us, yeah? C’mon then, won’t cost you a sickle,”

Begrudgingly, you followed him to the back of the store, when your heart stopped.

He laughed then, shaking his head and laughing to himself. “You’re from the other end. Reckon I probably should’ve said, ‘won’t cost you a dime’, is that way they say in America?”

And just like that, your head shot up and muscles tensed. That moment of reality. It was like you‘d gotten the wind knocked out of you, just as your parents told you. “Oh my god, what did you say?”

You watched Fred stop in his tracks, glance down at his wrist, and turn slowly back towards you, in the middle of a crowded store. Your heart and mind were racing, and it took every single ounce of you to restrict yourself from nearly jumping on top of him—

“It’s you,” he said, as if the entire world around the two of you had stopped abruptly.

“Get the wind knocked right out of you?” you asked him, pointing to his wrist and to yours.

He looked down at your hand and then back at you. Did he have tears in his eyes? “Yeah,” he said breathlessly—and then, that silly sarcasm. “I knew it.”

You actually laughed in the surprise of the moment. “You did not!”

“Well, I hoped,” he admitted. “I reckon you did, too?” He smiled sweetly at you. Yes, you’d hoped, too. He knew that. He could see it in your eyes from the moment you met one another, when you were rain soaked and shivering from the cold in his very busy store. He was in love with you right then.

Teasingly, you said aloud, “A British prankster. All my life I never pictured my soulmate as a British prankster.”

“Can’t say I ever pictured my soulmate as an American girl who’d end up working at the school I grew up in,”

You asked him jokingly, “Are you disappointed?”

Beaming at you, he replied, “Definitely not disappointed, America.”

It was really difficult to not turn to complete putty in his hands when he was so goddamn charming. It was inevitable.

You stood there, both peering at one another, wondering—what happens next?

And what kind of soulmate would you be if you didn’t ask him, “So can I kiss you now? I’m dying, here,”

And what kind of soulmate would he be if he didn’t tease you, “Well, yeah, darling, what the bloody hell are you waiting for?”

His lips were soft and warm, and it felt like you’d kissed them a million times before. He was your soulmate—in this life, and in any and every other lifetime there was—it would always be him—this confident, flirtatious, silly red headed boy who loved, more than anything, to bring a smile to people’s faces.

“Well thank bloody Merlin the two of you finally figured it out.”

George came down the steps from upstairs and wrapped his arms around the two of you. Up on the top floor, you saw another red headed boy and girl, who you knew must’ve been Ron and Ginny. Or was it Bill? Or Percy? Or Charlie? Guess you’d have time to figure it out. They both smiled at you.

“You knew?” you and Fred both asked George at the same time.

George chucked, “Yeah—it was really obvious, actually.” To you, he kissed you on the cheek and said, “Well—welcome to the family, officially! So, when’s the wedding? Kids on the way yet? Mate, you know mum is absolutely going to flip her lid when she hears the news—”

You choked back a laugh. Intertwining your fingers in Fred’s, you said to them both, “That’s a lot of steps we’ve skipped, there,”

And as he jokingly pushed his twin away, Fred turned back towards you, wound his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your temple as you draped your arms across his shoulders. His lips were pressed to your ear and it sent a shiver down your spine when he said, “I can’t wait to share all of them with you, my love.”

tag list: drop me a message if you’d like to be added: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @fredweasleyismyking91

reblogs + feedback are always appreciated lovelies :)

[longitudinalwaveme]

A Pipe Dream

The Flash stars in: A Pipe Dream

Dramatis Personae

Wally West, the garrulous, impulsive, and friendly third Flash

Joan Garrick, Jay Garrick’s wife, who is patient, loving, and supportive of everyone

Iris Allen, Barry Allen’s wife, an inquisitive daredevil reporter

The Pied Piper, alias Hartley Rathaway, a Robin Hood-esque thief

The Top, alias Roscoe Dillon, an arrogant, elitist, and top-obsessed criminal

Weather Wizard, alias Mark Mardon, an overconfident, rather stupid robber

Heat Wave, alias Mick Rory, a dim, shockingly gentle pyromaniac

Script

Act I

(Joan and Iris are onstage)

Iris: So, how’s Jay?

Joan: He’s doing well enough, I suppose, but, to be honest, I’m a little worried about him. He keeps claiming that he’s retired from crime fighting, but every time I turn around, he’s wearing that silly hat of his and racing off to fight bank robbers or carjackers or giant, murderous, telepathic gorillas. It was one thing when he was fifty, but now he’s 99 years old, and the doctors say that his heart won’t be able to take much more of his running at super speed.

Iris: What does he say about that?

Joan: That (strikes a heroic pose) “ it will be a pleasure to die in the line of duty.”

Iris: (Laughs) That sounds just like Barry.

Joan: I know, and it’s not funny. Our husbands spend so much time saving everyone else that they never stop to worry about themselves.

Iris: I guess that’s true-but hey, that’s part of what we’re here for, to make sure our husbands take some “me time” occasionally.

Joan: In speaking of husbands, how’s Barry?

Iris: He’s not doing so well. He came down with the flu a few days ago, and I’ve been going crazy trying to keep him from leaving his bed so that he can go fight crime.

Joan: Oh, I’ve had that happen with Jay before. Once, when he had pneumonia, he heard about a shoplifting ring, and I had to call in Ted and Alan-you know them as Wildcat and the original Green Lantern-to physically restrain him so that he wouldn’t leave the house to go stop them.

Iris: Well, I haven’t had to resort to calling the Justice League to restrain Barry yet, so things could be worse.

Joan: You’re right. Things could be worse. We could be having to deal with two sick speedsters each. Or a sick Superman!

Iris: Man, that would be a nightmare. I have no idea how that Lois Lane woman does it.

Joan: Maybe Clark just doesn’t get sick. After all, he isn’t a human, so maybe our diseases don’t affect him and he’s as invulnerable to getting sick as he is to everything else.

Iris: Maybe so.

(Enter Wally)

Wally: Hi, Joan. Hi, Aunt Iris. (Sneezes) How are you?

Iris: Hi, Wally. We’re doing all right. How are you?

Wally: I’m fine, but Linda and the kids all have the flu (Sneezes) and the twins also both have strep. (Sneezes) It sure is lucky that I don’t get sick, or we’d have a real mess on our hands.

Iris: Um, Wally, are you sure you’re not sick?

Wally: Yeah, I’m sure. (Sneezes three times) I never get sick. I had perfect attendance all throughout school, and you can check my records if you don’t believe me.

Joan: Can you at least try to take it easy, Wally?

Wally: I can’t do that! Jay’s retired and Uncle Barry has the flu, and someone has to protect the city! Besides, I can’t deny my adoring fans the chance to see me because I have a few sniffles. (Sneezes) I’ll be fine!

Iris: (To Joan) Is there a single superhero in the entire world who actually rests when they get sick?

Joan: Speaking from experience, I don’t think there is.

Wally: I said that I’m fine! (Sneezes) So, do you want to get lunch? I’m starving!

Iris: Wally, it’s 8:00 in the morning!

Wally: Okay, so let’s get brunch!

Iris: But I just ate breakfast!

Wally: I don’t follow. (Sneezes) I just ate breakfast, too, and I’m already hungry again.

Joan: Wally, dear, you have to consume 980,000 calories per day just to survive, so you have to eat almost constantly. We simply don’t have the appetite or the metabolism to keep up with you.

Wally: Oh, right. I forget that fact a lot-especially (Sneezes) since my kids inherited my metabolism and have to (Sneezes) eat even more than I do.

Iris: It’s all right, Wally.

Wally: So, um, do you want to go to McDonalds with me (Sneezes) and watch me eat? With Linda and the kids all sick, I’ve been cooped up in the house for a week, and I’m going stir-crazy!

Iris: I suppose so. After all, with Barry sick, I haven’t been able to get out much, either.

Joan: I’ll go, too. After all, if you really are sick despite your claims, someone needs to keep an eye on you so that you don’t run yourself into the ground.

Wally: Great! I love you guys so much, and I can’t wait to sink my teeth into (Sneezes) 340 Big Macs! I love McDonalds food!

Iris: (Shakes head) Never change, Wally. Never change.

(Exit All)

Act II

(The Pied Piper is onstage, playing an instrument. Enter the Top)

Top: Top of the morning to you, Piper.

Piper: Oh, good, you were able to make it. Did you have any trouble getting here?

Top: No. There is not a person in this city who would dare inconvenience the Top.

Piper: What about our friends in the red pajamas?

Top: Don’t make me laugh, Piper. The old one is feeble and retired, the young one is impulsive and stupid, and the only one that poses a threat has the flu, and therefore cannot be on top of his game. They could not bother me if they tried. What of you, my friend? Are you still in tip- top shape, or has your life spun out of control?  

Piper: I’m as fit as a fiddle, Roscoe. The Flashes have no reason to hunt down a peaceable man who steals money from drug lords and self-absorbed starlets and gives it to the poor. In fact, if I could only make them realize that the real villains are the members of the 1% who enrich themselves at the expense of the poor, we would be good friends.

Top: But I heard you were homeless?

Piper: I am.

Top: How, exactly, did that come to pass?

Piper: Well, after my last heist, I was going to buy an apartment for myself, but while I was on my way to buying it, I saw a very pregnant woman with two small children crying, and when I asked her what was wrong, she told me that she was trying to escape from her abusive boyfriend but that she had no money, and so I gave her the money and told her to use it to make a good life for herself and her children, and so I was unable to buy anything.

Top: You gave all of the money away?

Piper: Of course! They needed it more than I did.

Top: You, sir, are a fool. This is the fifth time that you have given up a permanent home to help some wretch-the fifth time!

Piper: Roscoe, you of all people should understand what it is like to be an outcast. How can you criticize my desire to help others that the world has forgotten?

Top: Because I am a genius, something that decidedly does not apply to the people for whom you constantly risk your freedom and your own safety.

Piper: Roscoe, my early life was spent in scandalous luxury, luxury that my parents took at the expense of the poor who helped build their empire. It’s only fair that I go without to help them now. (Pause) So, do you know if anyone else is coming to our little meeting?

Top: No. I do not concern myself with the behavior of lesser men like them.

(Enter Heat Wave)

Heat Wave: Hi, Piper! Hi, Top! Seeing you two really warms my heart! (Hugs Piper)

Piper: Mick, I love hugs, but…I….can’t….breathe!

Heat Wave: Oh, sorry. (Releases him)

Piper: Hi, Mick. How have you been?

Heat Wave: I’m okay. I was burning up with fever a couple days ago, but I’m all better now.

Piper: I’m glad to hear that. Do you know if any of the others are coming?

Heat Wave: Captain Cold won’t be here. He’s got a bad case of the chills , and besides, he’s still in prison, and so is Mirror Master. They say hi.

Piper: And what about Glider?

Top: My love is on vacation in the Bahamas. She won’t be able to come.

Piper: Wait. I thought you said that you didn’t know if anyone else could come!

Top: Did I? Oh. My apologies.

Piper: (To Heat Wave) Do you know if Digger is coming?

Heat Wave: He won’t be coming. He broke his leg and told me that he didn’t feel like messing with crutches when I brought him chocolate and flowers.

Piper: Okay, and what about Mardon?

Heat Wave: I don’t know. Last I heard, he was feeling a little under the weather.

(Enter Weather Wizard)

Wizard: Nope, I’m as right as rain!

Piper: Hi, Mark!

Wizard: Hi, Piper! Hey, Mick.

Heat Wave: How’ve you been? I heard you were sick.

Wizard: Nope. I’ve just been taking it easy.

Top: What a surprise.

Wizard: What’s that supposed to mean?

Top: It means that you are a lazy fool who hasn’t done a day’s work in his life.

Wizard: Am not! Why, I stole an entire tractor-trailer full of sports cars in an hour once!

Top: Yes, by sitting on your couch and allowing a tornado to detach the trailer from the cab of the truck and deliver the loot to your house.

Wizard: So? You can’t fault me for conserving energy!

Top: “Conserving energy”, my foot.

Wizard: What’s the matter, Top? Are you jealous of my power?

Top: No. I simply think it is wasted on a man who uses it only to commit petty thefts.

Wizard: (Raises weather wand) Petty? (Waves wand) I’ll show you petty! (Thunderclap)

Heat Wave: Whoa there, Mark, let’s not get hasty. I don’t want you to do something in the heat of the moment that you’ll regret-like destroying this building with all of us in it!

Piper: Mick’s right, Mark. It’s too dangerous to get into a fight here.

Wizard: (Lowers weather wand) Fine. But if you expect me to take his stupid comments forever, you’re chasing rainbows, Piper.

Piper: (to Top) Roscoe, please don’t antagonize Mark. You really don’t want him to make you face the music .

Top: I am not afraid of him, Piper.

Wizard: Well, you should be, because if you don’t start respecting me, our little truce will be nothing more than the calm before the storm!

Top: Whatever you say, Mardon. Whatever you say. (Pause) Shall we get down to business?

Heat Wave: Yeah, we should. Who has a plan for our next heist?

Piper: I do, actually, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be calling the tune on this job. You see, some friends of my parents are importing some very fine jewelery, and I think that those jewels will make for a tidy sum for the poor….

Act III

(Wally, Iris, and Joan are sitting at a table)

Wally: Boy, that was delicious! (Sneezes) I don’t care what Uncle Barry says-McDonalds has the best food in the world!

Joan: It isn’t exactly the healthiest food, you know.

Wally: Yeah, I know-but with the way I burn calories (Sneezes) , it isn’t going to hurt me any!

Iris: Um, I’m not sure that’s how it works, Wally.

Wally: Well, even if it isn’t, I’m young and it tastes good, so who cares?

Joan: I do, for one.

Iris: And so do I.

Wally: Good grief! When are you two (Sneezes) going to stop treating me like a little kid?

Iris: Wally, I watched you grow up. It’s going to take awhile for me to adjust-especially when you keep acting like a crazy teenager.

Wally: I don’t act like a crazy teenager! (Sneezes) I act like a crazy adult!

Joan: Wally, there isn’t much difference between a crazy teenager and a crazy adult.

Wally: Oh, yeah? (Sneezes) Prove it!

Joan: The Trickster.

Wally: Yeah, you’ve pretty much got me there. (Sneezes) Sorry I’m so annoying.

Joan: It’s all right. You’re not annoying most of the time, dear.

Iris: Just some of the time.

Wally: I love you guys. (Sneezes) So, what should we do next?

Iris: We could go shoe shopping. I’ve been needing a new pair of heels.

Wally: No! Not shoe shopping! Linda’s taken me on enough shoe shopping trips to last a lifetime! (Sneezes)

Iris: I was only kidding, Wally.

Wally: Good. Oooh, why don’t we get ice cream?

Joan: You can get ice cream. It probably isn’t a good idea for us to get it.

Wally: Yes! (Disappears, then returns with ice cream and cake)

Joan: Where did you get the cake from?

Wally: China. (Sneezes) They make everything there these days.

Iris: (Laughs) You ran all the way to China just to get cake?

Wally: Well, I was aiming for Hungary, but I overshot.

Joan: How did you overshoot Hungry? You have a full-time residency there.

Wally: Huh? (Pauses, then laughs) Oh, I get it! That’s hilarious, Joan!  

Joan: Why thank you, Wally. I think you and your aunt are rubbing off on me.

Iris: I’m glad we decided to do this. Barry’s a dear, but when he gets sick, he can be a bit of a nightmare.

Wally: Wait, Uncle Barry can be a nightmare?

Iris: Believe it or not, yes. Now, he’s not rude or whiny, but he keeps trying to leave his bed and stop crimes instead of resting so that he can get well, and it’s very irritating to make him stay put, because he gives me these really sad puppy dog eyes when I tell him to stay at home.

Wally: Hah! I knew he (Sneezes) had a weakness besides punctuality!

Joan: All three of you have that weakness, Wally.

Wally: I do not! (His phone rings) Sorry. I need to take this. (Pulls out phone) Hello, Commissioner? The Rogues? What are they doing? Mmm-hmm. Uh-huh. All right. I’ll be there as soon as possible, Commish! (Sneezes) You’re welcome. Good-bye. (Puts away phone) Sorry, guys, I’ve gotta run! The Rogues are trying to steal some jewelry, and I need to stop them.

Iris: No problem, Wally. Go get them!

Joan: And be careful!

(Exit Wally)

Iris: You know, just once, I would like to have an outing that isn’t interrupted by criminals, the Rogues, telepathic gorillas, or aliens who want to take over the world.

Joan: I fully agree with you, Iris. (Pause) Would you like to go shoe shopping with me while he’s gone?

Iris: That sounds terrific, Joan.

Commercial Break!

Act IV

(Enter the Rogues, running)

Piper: (Yelling over his shoulder) Thank you for your generous donation to the poor, Mr. Englewood!

Top: Oh, that was terrific fun! I’m feeling on top of the world right now!

Heat Wave: You’re right, Top. There’s nothing like a nice heist with all of my bestest friends to give me those nice warm and fuzzy feelings.

Wizard: Tell me about it. I’m on cloud nine!

Top: What are you going to do with your money, Piper? I am going to buy a nice suit and some new tops for my collection.

Heat Wave: I’m going to buy some presents for all of my friends so that I can warm their hearts. I’m sure Captain Cold will love a new parka.

Top: I was not asking you, you imbecile.

Heat Wave: Oh. I’m sorry, Top.

Top: Just be sure it does not happen again.

Wizard: I’m going to buy me a new car so that I can finally get a girlfriend!

Top: That will never happen, Mark, and I was not asking you either.

Wizard: Well gee, thanks for destroying my ray of hope, Roscoe.

Top: Moron. (To Piper) Well, my friend? What are you going to do with your share of the loot?

Piper: I’m going to donate it to a charity for sick children. The cries of joy that will produce will be music to my ears.

Top: You are giving away your money again? (Pause) I do not believe you.

Piper: What’s so wrong about wanting to help people?

(Enter Wally)

Wally: Because you’re going about it all wrong, Piper.

Wizard: By the four seasons! It’s the Flash!

Top: Not to worry, Mardon. This one is a mere child. (To Wally) Spin.

Wally: Whoa! (Stumbles, but keeps his balance) You should become a ride at Disney World or something, Top, because you make me just as dizzy.

Heat Wave: It’s time for you to take the heat, Kid Flash! (Fires at Wally, who narrowly dodges)

Wally: No thanks!

Wizard: (Waves his wand) We’re too powerful for you to stop, Flash. Why don’t you take a rain check?

Wally: No way! Defeating a bunch of clowns like you will be a breeze!

Top: Perhaps. Then again, perhaps not. (Spins out of Wally’s way)

Heat Wave: This situation is too hot for you to handle, Flash! You should leave before you get hurt or something.

Wally: Get hurt by one of you? Yeah, right. (He sneezes, and Top grabs him from behind)

Top: You were saying?

Wizard: Nighty night, Flash. (Raises his wand, and Wally sneezes again, causing the wand to go flying out of his hand) My wand!

Wally: (Breaks free) Nice try, Mardon. (He handcuffs Wizard and Top to one another)

Heat Wave: Hey, nobody hurts my friends like that!

Wally: (Taps him on the shoulder) You need better friends. (Handcuffs him to a lamp)

Piper: Flash, I’m not going to fight you. I abhor violence, as a general rule, and I know as well as anyone that my musical hypnosis doesn’t work well on you. However, before you take me away, I want to ask you something. Mr. Englewood hardly needs more money, and everyone knows that his factories are some of the most hazardous in the country for his workers. Why is it so wrong that I take money from him and give it to children who are dying from preventable diseases because of lack of money? You can’t argue that he deserves it more than they do, and he’s wealthy enough that he won’t even miss the money we took from him. Can’t you at least let me give the money away before you take me to jail? Please?

Wally: Piper, if I’m being honest, part of me wants to let you, but here’s the thing. I can’t let you break the law in order to help people. I’m sorry.

Piper: That’s all right. You’re just doing what you were told is right. I can’t fault you for that.

(Wally handcuffs him)

Wally: A word of advice, Piper? If you really want to help the poor, and I think you do, I think you’ll find it more rewarding if you do it on the right side of the law.

(Exit Wally)

Wizard: Well, that was a bust.

Top: For once, Mardon, we agree about something.

Heat Wave: Hey, guys, look at the bright side! At least we’re all still together.

Wizard: True. Nobody can call us fair-weather friends!

Heat Wave: And you know what’s even better? When we go back to prison, we can see Captain Cold again!

Top: I’m thrilled.

Wizard: Aww, don’t be such a downer, Top. You should learn to see the silver lining.

Top: I hate you both.

Piper: (Aside) All I wanted was to give the poor justice. Why is that a crime? The idea of people like my parents helping the poor is just a pipe dream...isn’t it?

Act V

(Iris and Joan are onstage. Enter Wally)

Wally: Hi, Iris! Hi, Joan! (Sneezes)

Joan: Oh, hi, Wally. Are you all right?

Wally: I’m okay. (Sneezes) But I think you were right about me being sick. I just took my temperature, and I’m 114 degrees. (Sneezes)

Joan: 114? How are you still alive?

Wally: Because the baseline body temperature for speedsters is 107 degrees.

Joan: Oh, that’s right.

Iris: Were you able to stop the Rogues?

Wally: Yep! (Sneezes) They’re being transported back to prison now, and all the jewelry has been returned. (Sneezes)

Iris: So, what do you want to do now, Wally?

Wally: I want to go home and sleep. (Sneezes) Running around sick won’t help anything.

Iris: Yes! A hero finally sees reason!

Wally: (Sneezes) Oh, and one more thing? Would you mind (Sneezes) donating money to the Children’s Health Foundation? I have a certain….friend who would really appreciate it.

Joan: Of course we will, Wally.

Wally: Thanks. You two are the greatest! (Sneezes)

[johannesviii]

So I guess I’m hyperfixating on Death Stranding at the moment

And since I’ve finally finished the story after playing it for like 100 hours over the course of seven months or so I guess I have Opinions(tm) about things I didn’t like in the game

They’re eating at my brain so I’m gonna put them all in a single post to get them out of my system once and for all so I can enjoy the rest in peace

Spoilers, obviously

Hi welcome back to ‘Johannes is obsessing over yet another video game with horror elements in it’! I guess!!

Our latest entry in that category was Until Dawn but since UD can be played in like 6/7 hours and I spent 100 hours of my life on DS, as you can guess we’re talking about a full-blown hyperfixation, the kind that physically hurts because I can’t focus on anything else even after having finished the storyline

But it was super gradual. Again, seven months. I barely made any progress from December to May because I was only doing side-deliveries at the beginning of Chapter 3 instead of... you know... advancing the plot. It became an honest-to-god special interest about two months ago, then 6 days ago while playing chapter 10 it reached hyperfixation levels and now I am in PAIN

I hate my brain

Anyhow

At first I wanted to list the good and the bad hings in it but there’s too many good things to list them all in full, excruciatingly long details, so

Very Quick And Very Incomplete List Of Good Things That I Love

It’s a post-apo game based on travel, logistics, and good will, and it straight up goes AGAINST the whole ‘survival of the fittest’ trope that SO MANY post-apo things try to push!! YES

I insist but it’s built on helping each other and keeping everyone alive, seriously that is my shit right there!

The online community is wholesome?? People leave stuff everywhere, you never see anyone but people put little helpful signs and send you likes, and in my game we almost managed to repair all the roads together

There’s so many new & strange allergies and disabilities and phobias in this post-apo world and? nobody is trying to ““fix”“ anyone?? Like Heartman with his padded floor and his little box that brings him back to life constantly. He’s just... living like that. Nobody’s going “hey maybe you should get another heart operation buddy”

The hero and his phobia of being touched. I. Loved. That. The quiet scenes when he was just talking with Fragile, sitting next to her. In any other context this would just be two people sitting next to each other and talking but it always feels so soft and intimate everytime he allows another human being to just. be next to him. I love it. I love them

Everyone crying constantly because of chiral allergy!!

I loved all the important characters bar one (Bridget/Amelie)!

Why is this walking simulator so enjoyable why am I enjoying the fact that holding L2 + R2 while walking feels like holding your backpack and that you have to relax at times just like you’d have to if you were actually holding a backpack

Seriously. Why

The atmosphere was so great, the music was fantastic and the visuals were on point. A E S T H E T I C

The ghosts!! The giant Beached Things!!! Chiral crystals look! like! creepy hands reaching for the SKY!!

THE RAIN DESTROYS THINGS AND KILLS PEOPLE BY ACCELERATING TIME THIS IS SO COOL SHUT UP

Everytime the game got surreal it was electrifying

THE SURREAL WAR SCENES ON CLIFF’S BEACH

Everyone is using emojis

There’s guys addicted to delivering packages in that game and they’re trying to steal our stuff and we’re like “haha they’re dumb” but we’re basically addicted to delivering packages as the player. So yeah that was pretty fun

Terrorists thinking humanity isn’t going extinct fast enough and wanting to just rip the bandaid and speed things up. Simple but effective concept

People ask for SUPER VITAL ITEMS right next to completely trivial stuff and I’m LIVING for it. “Please fetch my toy dinosaur”. I feel you dude

The most isolated characters are like "LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THIS THING I LIKE" in your emails because they haven't had contact with other humans in years, it's super relatable

There’s a farm where people use the fact that Timefall rain accelerates time to grow food super quickly in one (1) Timefall and harvest everything just before it starts to die and I LOVE that detail of worldbuilding so much

YOU’RE FIGHTING BEACHED THINGS WITH YOUR OWN BODILY FLUIDS IT’S SO STUPID BUT ALSO SO COOL?? I love yeet-ing my own blood at eldritch entities

THE T W I S T S

All the fanservice (bar one detail that I’m gonna complain about later) is on dudes. This game reeeeeeally likes to show dudes naked or somewhat naked. Mostly the main character but this mocap also L O V E S Mads Mikkelsen and there’s a shit ton of homoerotic shots in there

I love Sam the antisocial papa wolf delivery man and if someone touches him or his baby again, I will cry

LOU. LOU LOU LOU PRECIOUS BABY I’D DIE FOR YOU. Wait I did

I love Fragile and how brave she is and how she keeps helping people even if most of them wrongly think she’s a terrorist and yes I will eat this cryptobiote thank you

I love soft science boi Heartman who keeps dying again and again and is a bit too much interested in bodily fluids

I love garbage man Higgs and how complex, funny and still somewhat tragic this memelord actually turned out to be in the end

Seriously I want to stop fixating on this character but you can’t give me YET ANOTHER character who wants to die but at the hands of someone else, that is unfair to do that right after my fixation on the new Doctor Who Master

So yeah Higgs is yet another character who makes me want to grab him by the lapels and shake him and yell WHY! ARE! YOU! LIKE! THIS! STOP! BEING! LIKE! THIS!!

Cliff broke all three of my feelings beautifully and in excruciatingly well-acted scenes that transcended the sometimes lackluster dialogue

John made me cry during That Scene

Mama your background was tragic and terrifying and you didn’t deserve any of this shit and I love you

Deadman was more funny than anything, really, but I still liked him even if he had no sense of personal space whatsoever and it clashed horribly with Sam’s phobias

The ending had some sad parts but was mostly positive, thank goodness

Now I’m gonna explain things I dislike and this looks long but it’s actually only 5 main things so I bolded them to avoid confusion

Things I really disliked (and could have been handled wayyyy better)

We all know it but Kojima isn’t a master of subtlety and some parts of the dialogue kept repeating the same informations again and again AND AGAIN and I was like “ok ok I get it”

The dialogue can be so bad at times seriously

Kojima is a bad writer there I said it

It was particularly annoying with Amelie/Bridget and the fact she’s a horrible person trying (and failing) to justify her actions wasn’t helping

Bridges protocols are incredibly intrusive. All of them. I know it’s framed as bad and Sam hates being spied on all the time and in the end he destroys the device that does that, but I wish someone else would openly criticise it in-game

I guess Deadman sort of did but still

Also I know the whole BB technology was Bridget’s idea, and since she’s the actual villain it’s framed as a twisted, evil thing during the ending, but I wish that had been framed like that much earlier ; a lot of Bridges employees just... seem to accept the idea that their employer is using premature babies and their dead mothers as useful, if disturbing, devices. They seem to justify it by “uh we stole that technology from terrorists” to try to cope with the idea but... yeah.

I mean, one of the points being made very early on is that Sam sees his BB as his child who must be protected at all costs instead of a detection device, but I really wish he wasn’t the only one to object to that thing

Again, the game DOES frame "using babies and their dead mothers as tools” as evil and twisted, I just wish it was given a lot more weight and way sooner

Now let’s talk about the Token Straight(tm) in this game

In any other kind of context it would be a joke! But Death Stranding literally has a Token Straight Guy!

I mean, there IS a few hetero couples among the Preppers. Not a lot, mind you. Like, there’s the Montaineer and his wife for instance. But they’re just there and it’s not what their side plot is about

No I’m talking about this piece of shit right there

This f█cking Junk Dealer guy complains the girl he loves is dead because of Bridges and emotionally blackmails us by sending us old holograms of her before her supposed death (somewhat disturbing holograms too because she looks... pretty young in them), then he sends us on what’s essentially a suicide mission in a BT infested zone, THEN when we give him proof she’s still alive and living in another bunker nearby, he won’t go there himself to check??

But SHE’s like “ok, bring me to him, then!”

He doesn’t deserve you, girl

I’ve already seen several people pointing out that carrying a woman as cargo on your back is... debatable at best and sexist at worst, but that part didn’t really bother me to be honest? She asked to be carried to him and it’s her choice. She was talking to us the entire way too, so that made things a lot less awkward. Also Sam has this phobia of being touched by other people so I bet carrying another human being on his back isn’t fun for him. It was also super stressful to do, to be honest.

And then there’s this EXTREMELY AWKWARD scene when they’re reunited and decide to get married, and thankfully Sam finds it just as awkward as we do because he’s standing super far away from the bunker in a “can’t they talk about this later - I’m right there” way. And I’m under the impression it was intended as cringy, in a “yeppp young people in love are Like That” sort of way, so I can accept that, to be honest. If you don’t take that scene seriously, it’s pretty fun in, again, a cringy sort of way

BUT

Then you receive more emails later and this piece of shit guy complains about her and he’s like “ugh WOMEN” or “marriage is the worst” and they end up divorced in record time and she goes back to her bunker

Which isn’t my problem with this subplot either, I promise I’m gonna explain myself eventually but this context is important. It’s okay to have characters who are pieces of shit like this guy who reeks of incel cologne. It’s alright. Not every character has to be a role-model. It’s good to have characters you can hate.

BUT THEN they get back together later to try to patch things up and you learn he was part of a gang who murdered her parents even though he protected her against the rest of the gang and that’s what I hated about that storyline. I guess if you squint it can be read as “this woman is making REALLY BAD life choices” but I read it as “he saved her so she owes him something, he can’t be entirely bad” and y i k e s this left such a bad taste in my mouth, good lord.

But yeah miss Chiral Artist you’re making really bad life choices please get away from this dude as soon as you can, thank you

Also don’t do this ‘sending Likes’ pose ever again, it was hilarious but also you made me use the word “cringy” several times in this paragraph even though I absolutely hate cringe culture, look what you made me do

Now I have to talk about a scene that was intentionally disturbing as hell but ONE (1) detail in it was disturbing for the wrong reasons

To be honest, I really don’t like the Metal Gear Solid games and one of the reasons is the rampant sexism in them so I... was kind of bracing myself for Death Stranding and expecting it to have at least SOME really bad fanservice with a woman at one point or another but to my surprise?? There was none? All the fanservice is on dudes??? Hello? I really liked that (well at some point Fragile takes a shower in our room but we see literally nothing except her shoulder and then Sam looks away)?? What a refreshing change

THAT BEING SAID

And if you played the game you know exactly what I’m about to talk about

Yep this is the part where Johannes complains about how the bomb flashback was shot

Ok so I guess I should also give some context in case someone is reading this but hasn’t played the game, but the deal with this scene is that our friend Fragile was betrayed by her colleague Higgs who used to be a porter but became a terrorist after meeting the “main“ villain of the game. First he secretly put a thermonuclear bomb in one of her deliveries so she’d nuke an entire city without even knowing it, and everyone after that thought she was a terrorist. And then he tried to do that shit A SECOND TIME, but she noticed and decided to toss the second nuke into a bottomless lake of tar. But he caught her just before she reached the lake and he decided to give her a sadistic choice, which was “teleport away and the bomb stays there and nukes the city, or carry it to the lake but only in your underwear under this rain that speeds up time and it will do enormous damage to your health and your body”

And of course being the hero she is, she decides to take the second option

And it’s an incredibly disturbing scene and it’s genuinely hard to watch

But it’s also the ONLY time a woman is in her underwear in this entire game and there’s A COUPLE of shots that were male-gaze-y at the beginning before she started to run and the really horrific part started.

So in a way I guess it could have been worse? way worse, even

But it still tarnishes an otherwise disturbing (and harrowing at times ; seriously I know I’m oversensitive but it was physically painful to watch) scene with unnecessary shots

We know Fragile had a young body before this happened, this isn’t the point of this scene, guys

Whoever decided to keep these shots (probably Kojima let’s face it), that is bad and you should feel bad

Idk how to do a visual transition for that next one because I do not want to screen that memo

So here’s a screenshot with a nice landscape instead

tw: acephobia

Now I have to talk about something I like the GENERAL IDEA of, but not how the IN-GAME MATERIAL ABOUT IT was written

Because I have to talk about that “asexual world” memo

First I have to say that I absolutely love the fact that a mainstream game openly says in-game “this future is full of asexual people" and?? it’s just that, it’s a part of this world. That’s just how things are. It’s normalised. I love it. For crying out loud this memo has the word demisexual in it. I can’t think of any other mainstream game that had this word in it so far.

It should have stopped there and let me enjoy that in peace but it didn’t

THE MEMO ITSELF WAS CLEARLY WRITTEN BY SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO HANDLE THESE CONCEPTS and there’s some really bad stuff there. I’d say it’s accidental acephobia but it’s still there. I’m not the best person to talk about this because I’m bi, but it still rubbed me the wrong way

The words this memo uses near the beginning are “"sexless lifestyle” among young people” and yikes, my dude. “Lifestyle”, uh? Really?

And then it goes on about how these new labels were already more and more common “among young people before the Death Stranding” and it also rubs me the wrong way, in a “wow young people and their weird labels lol” sort of queerphobic way?

However I’ve seen a post pointing out that the line “One theory posits that the Stranding accelerated the proliferation of these sexualities” was maybe a way of saying ‘yo asexuals are causing the end of the world’ but... I don’t see it, tbh? In the context of the game, society is extremely divided and a lot of people live in complete isolation and social norms have heavily shifted and it’s kind of normal that there’s queer people visible everywhere now, aces included obviously, because nobody’s bothering to hide it anymore. It’s a post-apocalyptic world! People are just being themselves! A lot of characters also seem to be bi/pan! They’re just vibing ok

At least that’s how I read that part, I can understand if someone had a problem with that bit but I didn’t

BUT! THAT’S NOT ALL because the memo concludes (I’m paraphrasing) “the birth rate has dropped, which might be a problem, but harassment and assault have also dropped, which is good, so idk it’s 50/50″ and. like. I get the intention. But it’s clumsy as hell and very bad. Please don’t confuse abuse of power and attraction. They don’t go hand in hand. Don’t do that. Please. And you know that aces can have kids if they want to, right. Come on. It’s 2020 my dude. This shit is harmful

Also. Like. It’s the end of the world in this game. People don’t want kids. It... has nothing to do with aces. Reality itself is crashing down. People are reluctant to have kids because reality.exe might f█cking crash down at any given moment!

Or a Beached Thing could VoidOut their city!

Or someone might send them a nuke, not naming names!!

Anyway!!!

It’s really badly written and whoever wrote it should educate themselves and maybe get an ace to re-read their stuff next time??

Again I’m not the right person to talk about acephobia and I bet an actual ace would have plenty more to say about this

Thankfully it’s a memo written in-game by a random Bridges councellor and NOT by any important character that we actually know

"I must preempt myself by admitting that I do not have any empirical data" yeah so, f█ck off maybe

So I’m just gonna call that guy “another piece of shit character” but it still doesn’t excuse the fact that the memo was written by someone who thought it was a good idea to put it in the game

Just let me enjoy my super queer post-apo world in peace and don’t write shit like that in your game thank you and goodbye

Minor stuff I also disliked but it wasn’t as awful

I get that Sam is upset at the end because Lou is dying but the way he said goodbye to Fragile broke my heart. It was abrupt and you KNOW he’s upset and wants to have nothing to do with Bridges anymore and that’s very understandable but it isn’t her fault

Seriously I want them to be friends again

I’m gonna pretend they’re friends again after Lou is saved and that Sam is a freelance porter again and sometimes their paths cross and they just talk together in the middle of nowhere and share cryptobiotes

The pacing is weird, there’s this deluge of plot in the beginning and the end but not much in the middle?

The BT boss fights could have been these epic Shadow of the Colossus showdowns but no, they were relatively standard boss fights. Wasted opportunity

The running on the Beach scene sdfghjhgfdsdfghjhgf that was... dumb

A lot of preppers are interesting in one way or another but some are just boring. Also I wish the design of their bunkers was more varied

Amelie/Bridget’s motivations are all over the place, both creating Bridges AND the Demens is... a lot? I know she both WANTS and DOESN’T want the actual, final end of the world to happen but that is a lot to take in and it’s all very confusing

Who the hell cares about ‘rebuilding America’ I just want to build a network where people can help each other

The ‘likes’ are fun but don’t make much sense

In conclusion

Death Stranding Good

Some stuff Bad

Some stuff Very Bad (but it’s just one memo out of 100+ memos, thank god)

I’m still hyperfixating

Send help

[thearkhound]

Kojima Cinema Vol. 2: Labyrinth of Dreams

Greetings from Kojima Cinema

Hello! Time sure goes fast. It’s already been two months since our premiere. I convinced myself that I had plenty of time, but those two months went by quick. It’s a good thing Game Hihyō isn’t a monthly magazine or I would had been in trouble finishing my manuscript. This issue I will be covering the latest work of director Sogo Ishii, my mentor in spirit.

A Labyrinth Seen From (Euro) Space

I saw Labyrinth of Dreams. It’s the best the film by Director Ishi in his post-comeback career since Angel Dust. Rena Komine in particular is pretty good. She’s completely different here from the girl we’ve seen in August in the Water, with a presence that completely outshines costar Tadanobu Asano. Ishi is truly skilled at bringing out the talent from new actors. Her performance, which can be described as a possession that emanates all over her being under the few limits of her sensuality, her dialogue, the way she moves herself, doesn’t make me think of her as a 17-years-old girl.

An Introspective Direction in a Monochrome World

Ishi’s introspective direction was a surprise. Dialogue and movement are both minimalist, the camera work is extremely simple, there are many long shots and perspective shots, everything is told through the rough shadows of the monochrome imagery, the swells of waves in those scenes, the flows of clouds, the thrusting rain, the wing flaps of moths, the swaying trees, ect. It seems that the dynamics of the natural world gives the movie rhythm and a sense of breath, as if its skillfully projecting the inner universe of the characters. The way that sound effects are employed is also first-rate. Did you noticed the ambient music that comes and goes like ripples on a water and the noises peculiar to film? To go as far as to be able to freely control sound effects in order to express emotions is pretty skilled!

Interactive Cinema That Makes The Audience Ponder Dialogue

The scene where the heroine visits Niitaka’s lodging house is a highlight. They stare at each other without making a slight noise or sudden movement, only time flows. The camera is set still, there’s no pantomime or dialogue, no camera work, the emotions between the two characters are expressed solely by the room and “distance” between them. Even without dialogue, the audience will ponder deeply about the feelings between the two characters. Perhaps it’s a kind of interactive cinema. “Distance” is a communication peculiar to Japanese people, but lately there are a few western movies that’s been using distancing boldly.

A Truly Life-Waging Love

I have never read the original short story written by Kyusaku Yumeno, but my interpretation is that the serial killings was just something that the wild imaginations of the young girls conjured up. Niitaka did not have murderous intentions, but the yearning for a grown man and awe for sexuality of his young lovers created a sort-of “murderer” or “love to die for”. Perhaps the incident was an end of a fantastical love taking shape. I don’t think that to like someone means to create an ideal lover within yourself.

The Sogo Ishii Within Me

When I was in my teens I had an obsession to create homemade films. It’s a bit embarrassing, but I formed a group called Hidetatsu Productions alongside some friends from middle school and made some rather uninteresting 8mm movies. Back then it was the heyday of independently produced film directors, starting with Kazuki Omori (nowadays you think of people like Shinya Tsukamoto). Among such directors, I had a true admiration for Sogo Ishii. As someone who always dreamed of filming movies, titles like Crazy Thunder Road and Burst City made the idea that even a complete amateur could make a movie seemed even more plausible. Even though I ended up joining the videogame industry instead, my feelings for Sogo Ishii hasn’t changed. His next work will be an adaptation of Kobo Abe’s novel The Boxman. Kobo Abe is one of my favorite authors. In fact, tthe cardboard box that appears as an in-game item in the Metal Gear games was inspired by The Boxman. I’m looking forward to it. [Note: This movie was completed, but never released.]

Indies & Hollywood

Lately there has been many instances in which film directors of indie background from various countries have been call forth by Hollywood to hold the big megaphone. Luc Besson, John Woo and Robert Rodriguez are such examples, and lately we also have Roland Emmerich, Peter Jackson and Danny Boyle as well. On one hand it’s good that talented directors are being given a chance, but on the other hand there’s a fear that you’ll rob such a director’s talent by forcing them to shoot a huge budget sequel to an existing movie. It can create a situation in which pressure and a Hollywood-like restriction of entertainment (that aims for mainstream appeal) could suppress the director’s unique style. While there are directors who were capable of grasping success while skillfully walking around the Hollywood system, those who failed to do so end up having painfully bitter experience. I was concerned for Peter Jackson, but then I saw The Frighteners and it has the same vulgarity that Jackson is known for, so I was worried for nothing.

A Dangerous Omen for the Game Industry

The same thing is happening within the game industry. Although it’s only a few, there have been developers and even whole teams that were headhunted by larger companies to work an anticipated sequel or a game in a popular genre. It wasn’t that long ago when videogames used to be made by a small team of people. It was just like making an indie movie. You had to draw the artwork, compose the music and assemble the program by oneself. Naturally the authorship of a single developer was very noticeable. But that is all in the past. Just like in Hollywood, what sells is pretty much fixed and there is a struggle to gather developers to make those kind of games. While this is not a Hollywood example, it is necessary for developers to ask themselves what kind of games they can create or whether they can take an opportunity or not. Unless you’re a creator who is capable of that, I don’t think you can survive in the future. We must think a bit about the risk of what an opportunity means. Just like when Danny Boyle turned down Alien Resurrection.

Source

Game Hihyō Vol. 14 (April 1997)

[convivialjoys]

the signs summed up, from my personal experiences with them

Aries: Spring and Fireworks together, somehow. But they're all of the new, exciting parts of spring, none of the soft, pretty parts. They are life, new life. Young souls. Usually very funny, laugh at a lot of things, and don't get embarrassed easily. Usually make great leaders when they can pay attention for long enough, especially if it involves a cause with passion, but they bore easily if the experience is not new. They fizzle out quickly, which makes them seem angry and volatile at times. Need to constantly be Doing something. Very physical energy. Can be indecisive, especially when bored. They don't linger on the past; only move forward into the new. They don't tend to hold grudges. Blood in the Cut by K. Flay. A little bit egotistical, but they also can laugh at themselves. Quick anger; explosive, but not lasting. The embodiment of Mars. Flashy and powerful.

Taurus: Earthy; almost doe-like. Innocent. Unintentionally hilarious, usually in a very cute, charming way. Very reliable and consistent. Stubborn, sometimes to a fault - they've found what they like, they've found what works, and that's that on that; don't waste their time. They like to take things slow. They don't tend to worry about things that don't matter / infringe on their happiness. They like the simple, beautiful pleasures in life; they like being comfortable, and living in luxury. Deep, solid, Venus energy. Over and Over by Tullio. Prone to laziness if they are not careful, but they are also consistent in the work they do. Their anger is rigid, but not bitter, and not fire-y. They do not hold grudges; they'll charge, and forget why they charged two minutes later. Often can laugh at themselves.

Gemini: The definition of adaptable. The chameleons of the zodiac. Quite chaotic. Generally unattached to most things, but fascinated by all things. Tend to be fantastic storytellers through acting. The fun side of Mercury. Amazing at holding conversations. Karma Chameleon by Boy George. Quirky; oftentimes have a difficult time sitting still, due to their constant need to "drift." Always up for a good time. The person that you lose track of time talking to. Don't take themselves too seriously, and will admire you if you can one-up them at their own game. Never offended. Masters of shade, oftentimes without anyone else realizing it. Quite content with having their own inside jokes with themselves. Generally entertained by others, which makes them social, even if they're not necessarily emotionally involved. Have very original thoughts. Geniuses, but can't always organize their own ideas, or say them in a way that make sense. Don't need to be seen or heard by others to feel validated, but do need to be engaged in some way, socially.

Cancer: Gentle, understanding, compassionate. Easily nurture others, and know exactly when it is needed. Associated with the moon and the mother. Soft, but not fragile. Very solid and reliable. Are You Alright by Lucinda Williams. Make for good instigators of things, due to their cardinal energy - are likely the friends to take the lead, if a lead should be taken - but they'll do so in a graceful and tactful way. Can be withdrawn, surprisingly, and prone to social exhaustion quickly. Sensitive to vibes of the environment, especially of the home. Empathetic. Can sense when someone is "off" emotionally, and are likely to ask you about it. Offer hugs, but don't want them in return. They want to nurture, but not be nurtured, or they'll withdraw.

Leo: Pride, nobility, courage. Roar loudly and proudly. Don't Rain On My Parade by Barbra Streisand. Feel fulfilled by being the "light" in the room, and the center of it. Shameless in this; finds shame distasteful. A maned aristocrat. The Sun. Unyielding in their opinions. Will charge and kill, and will not hold back once they've decided to do so. Loyal to their loved ones, and are likely the first ones to stand up for you. Like to show off, and like to show you off, too, if you're in a relationship with them. A bit grandiose; can be jokers. Thrive off of others looking at them. They will love you if you love them. No pretense with them. Ignoring them is one of the worst things you can do to them. Usually appear "large" and take up a lot of space; they have a presence. They could pull Apollo's chariots. Always have the last word; you will not "win" an argument with them.

Virgo: The fixers. Both perfectionists and chaotic. Generally fit in where ever they are, due to their mutable energy. Obsessions by MARINA. Very tasteful; not promiscuous. Have a pure light about them that makes them seem "untainted" by the world around them, despite any hardships they might have endured. Mercurial, conversational, oftentimes make for exceptional writers. Similar to Gemini, but if Gemini were more grounded. Observant about others, but not always necessarily about themselves. Probably well read, even if they can't remember from which book their facts are coming from. Can be at odds with themselves often, due to their dual need for material success / values, and their simultaneously floaty, dreamy energy. Can be very self critical, and prone to anxiety, especially if things are not in order. Like things resolved, and will obsess if they are not. Often the nerd friends. Dabbled in a lot, and know about a lot. Usually very successful, even if they don't want grandiose things. May struggle with self image, or some form of dysphoria. Soft hearted.

Libra: The diplomats, the judges. Very graceful; love to be comfortable and stylish. A little bit shady, but you have to look hard to see this, as it will be disguised in tact. Charming, with soft eyes. Venus energy, but a bit more forward and extroverted than Taurus. Vogue by Madonna. Have a tendency to mirror who they are communicating with. Social, usually good at taking lead, and at communicating your thoughts back to you in a way that makes sense to all. Mediators. Fascinated with relationships between people, and enjoy observing / talking about them. Oftentimes romantic, but can bore easily. Flirts. A little vain. Very into looks and appearances, due to the artistic influence of Venus. Interested in what you have to say, and in hearing all viewpoints, so they can judge which is the just one. See the light and dark of most situations, and the beauty in both. Find disharmony abhorrent; will oftentimes hide their true anger at a situation because of this. Will bend over backwards to try and understand others and their situations; will find it unjust if the same treatment is not given to them. Can be ruthless in their judgments, especially if they perceive injustice. Are usually forgiving if you've wronged them in some way and attempted to reconcile. Social; easy to get along with and talk to. Could be ambassadors for humanity.

Scorpio: Powerful, perceptive. Dark, mysterious. Observant; probably the most observant of all of the signs. Terrible Thing by AG. Can be quite funny, and have a weird sense of humor that seems uncharacteristic. They do not reveal information unless absolutely critical; power through knowledge is of utmost importance to them. Incredibly sharp and remember conversations from five years ago that seem meaningless to you. Everlasting souls. You likely will not forget these people, and they won't forget you, either. Unyielding and relentless, but also crafty. Probably have a number of topics that they've researched extensively, and could easily write a thesis on, but instead let only hints of said information out occasionally. Deep, transformative. Somehow the Scorpion and the Eagle in one. There is a sense that they will be the last ones standing. Reliable; they will never flake. They want to know everything about you. Their observations about things are masterful, poetic, and unbelievably perceptive. Emotional, but not open about this, and not necessarily empathetic. A deep focus, and sometimes there is a tendency to hyperfixate.

Sagittarius: Very lucky. Fun; an all around great time. Probably not good at holding alcohol. High Hopes by Panic! At the Disco. Are the most likely of your friends to end up in an obscure bar at 4am, dancing on tables. Will fight at all times, but will also laugh quickly after fighting. Chaotic, but somehow always survives every situation unscathed. Love to travel, and are probably well traveled, or have dreams of doing so. Curious about everything; very easy to talk to because of this. Have a lot of various interests that may make them seem flighty, but it is simply because they are infatuated with the world. Overstimulated easily; very physical. Will never judge you for anything. Probably have laughter that is infectious. Have a somewhat humorous quality about them. Can be egotistical, but are usually good-natured, too. There is a sense that they are good friends, and a deep positivity around being with them. They have their own backs.

Capricorn: Organized, classy, powerful, or crave becoming powerful. Very earthy, but the part of earth that makes diamonds. Disciplined, due to Saturn being their ruler. Have dreams rooted in either material possessions and wealth, or status through other means, but want to get there through hard work, and all on their own. We Have It All by Pim Stones. Never want to count on others, but you can count on them to be reliable and to give you practical, good advice. Usually very good at gift giving. Prone to being critical, but it is always to help you, and well intentioned. Both crave status and feel unworthy of status. Admire those with status. Care very deeply, but may have a hard time showing it. Prideful. They don't hold grudges. They somehow make practicality look artful. Structured, responsible. Somewhat of traditionalists at heart. Probably very family oriented, and "tough love" nurturers, but are also appropriately nurturing.

Aquarius: The politicians, the humanitarians, the executives. Probably philanthropists, or would make good ones. Water bearers; they bear the "life" of the world and its answers, and are here to communicate that with us. Quite social, yet emotionally disconnected. Higher Love by Kygo & Whitney Houston. Can seem distant; they see the problems of any given situation or initiative easily, and know exactly how to communicate fixing those, but in an unemotional way. Speaking with the masses is what they are best at. They seem almost other-worldly, or above everyone, because of this. They usually make successful CEOs. A misfit, in the best of ways. They tend to have reasons for everything they do. Fun and open-minded, they love to goof off, but surprisingly tend to have a stubborn streak due to their fixed modality. Very hard to win a debate against them; they can probably sway you in their direction, since it is always logical and well reasoned. Intellectuals. A little unusual, but not in the quirky way that Gemini is; more because they stand out as very intelligent leaders. Charismatic. Social. A little "zany" because of their air. Have a sense of "unease" or sudden movement about them, due to the unexpected, restless energy of Uranus.

Pisces: Always seem to be drifting; quirky, probably funny in that way. Very dreamy. Loving souls; very soft. Tend to be introverted and artistic. They are curious about intuitive, creative ventures, such as acting, painting, writing, musical instruments or music. Talented at such things. Very good at reading emotions, and are usually also affected by them, too. Can get overstimulated very easily. Empaths. Love involving themselves in people and situations in the same way that Gemini does, and are adaptable, but very emotionally sensitive. May even be emotionally volatile or unpredictable due to this. Their intuition is other-worldly. They are the oldest signs in the zodiac, and probably seem psychic, or are, in many ways. Have a sense of living many past lives about them. Blowing Kisses in the Wind by Paula Abdul. Usually very content with being in their own heads. Visual or auditory thinkers. Sometimes have synesthesia. Have a hard time staying "rooted" because of all of the amazing worlds they see, outside of our own immediate one. The dreamers, the psychics. Neptune, associated with illusion and dreams. Make for excellent storytellers, and usually lead by example, rather than by communication. Have a way of understanding the universe that is unique and unlike any other.

[hyggeligbirch]

Poppy Red

An EXO Fanfiction

pairing: jongin x baekhyun word count: 2 637 warnings: none

summary: Everyone knows that being twenty-three and terribly ill only means one thing.  You’ve put off finding your soulmate for a little too long.

The apartment comes cheap. Excessively cheap. But Jongin doesn’t really have room to worry about it. Excessively cheap is the only thing he can afford on the tiny savings that have brought him here.

It’s a tiny place, barely room to breathe, much less live. The bed is lofted above a small table, which presses against the chest of drawers that make up the only storage in the place. The swing of the door takes up the rest of the room; the bathroom is shared, at the end of the hall.

But he can live with that, he supposes. It’s not like he has much to his name anyway. And when he’s pulled in what little he has - thrown his blankets on the bed, set his rice cooker on the table, tucked his plants on the chest of drawers - it feels a little more like a home.

He starts work that first morning, pulling an opening shift at a friend’s shop. Only place he could find work on such short notice. It’s not as bad as he’d feared.

Sure, there are a lot of slow periods, a lot of rude customers. But Jongin likes sitting in the back with the flowers, and some of the customers are sweet.

Days come and go. He tires. He pales. Miss Sophie, who comes in every day at noon wearing a blue dress and straw hat to buy exactly three sprigs of baby’s breath, notices. She buys a little red poppy, and tucks it in his hands.

“She wants to protect you,” she says, in the way of wrinkled old women. “Let her try.”

--

Baekhyun has always been active. Sitting still just doesn’t seem to work. There’s always something to do and something to see. Normally it doesn’t cause too much trouble, this need to move. At least, not since he graduated school. He had immediately picked up a job at a local nursery, and it fits perfectly. The little kids certainly don’t mind having someone to run around with, and the teachers appreciate the time to work in peace.

He goes from work to his second job, a few hours in the evening at a little cafe, and then he usually goes out with friends. Sometimes just himself. And then he stumbles in a little before midnight, finally tired and a little bit drunk, stopping just long enough to take his shoes off before collapsing on his bed. He’s not a complete heathen, after all.

But then the third week of November rolls around and it’s like he hits a brick wall. He’s tired, like he’s never been before. He begs off of drinks to go home and read. He calls in sick to the nursery because he can’t pull himself out of bed. He figures it’s just a bug. He’ll sleep it off soon enough.

--

Nothing is appetizing, and Jongin knows it shows.  His clothes are starting to get baggy and he can count his ribs when he stands in front of the mirror.  Junmyeon stops him as he’s clocking out, the fourth Tuesday of January, and invites him to dinner.  Miss Sophie gives him cakes every Tuesday and another flower every Friday and comforting smiles the rest of the week.

But it’s not like it’s worth anything.  Food just isn’t appealing.  Still, Jongin tries.  He wakes up and makes breakfast.  He makes extra rice for his dinner and packs a large lunch.  He forces his food down until he feels sick, and then a little more. There’s still always some left.

When he was fifteen, it was just one of the magics of teenage boyhood, eating mountains of food and still managing to lose weight.

When he’s twenty-three, it’s a little more worrisome.

--

In the middle of February, Baekhyun quits the nursery, collecting hugs and crumpled drawings from dozen tiny hands.  His energy still hasn’t come back from November and it’s finally time to give in to reality.  His new job consists of sitting in a cushioned chair and answering phones for eight hours a day.  It’s honest work.  It pays the rent.

As he crashes into bed at half past eight on a Friday night, exhausted to his very bones, he realizes that he’s scared.  He’s already twenty-five.

--

(Fifth grade health courses all look the same.  An old woman wearing too much perfume walks into the classroom with gym teacher.  She takes the girls to another room, where she teaches them about the horrors of life. The boys get to stay and hear about their own growing pains from a man who survived them himself.

When the groups are brought back together, the atmosphere settles from general disgust to solemn contemplation as the projector hums to life.

“Soulmates,” the film always starts, a deep voice that booms through tinny old speakers, “are a fact of life.  Each of you has one; it is your duty to find them.”  As scenes of domestic bliss play out, it continues. “When you are with your soulmate, there will be no pain.  The world is a beautiful place when shared with your soulmate.  Everything is brighter.  The birds sing sweeter and the wind blows gentler….”  It continues, extolling the virtues of a soulmate.

There’s always one kid who raises their hand at the end of the video and asks, “What if we don’t want a soulmate?”

The adults are always aghast.  

“Soulmates,” they warn, “are necessary for life.”)

--

Jongin lives alone in an apartment that is barely big enough for himself and his forest of potted plants, and it’s his own damn fault.  The thing is, he doesn’t particularly care.

He doesn’t care because he remembers being twelve and wondering why his classmates had become obsessed with every mark on their skin, wondering if it was a message from their soulmate.

He doesn’t care because he remembers being fifteen and watching his best friend crushed by the realization that his soulmate was an empty-minded girl who could think of little more than when she could next get high.

He doesn’t care because he remembers being eighteen and finally finding the strength to voice his greatest belief.  “I don’t want a soulmate,” he had said, quietly at first and then forcefully, again and again into frozen air in the middle of the night.

And he doesn’t fucking care because he remembers making a panicked phone call at half past two in the morning, when he was twenty-three and homeless.  “If you really want to be alone so badly,” his father had said, when Jongin finally refused to pretend to care any longer, “then you can leave.  I’m not boarding suicidal idiots.”

Jongin is twenty-three and he still doesn’t want a soulmate.

His apartment is small but it’s cheap and it’s his and he’s happy with this life.

And then he wakes up on the eighteenth of February with a thick black streak across his forarm.

--

Baekhyun stares at the mark on his arm.  The marker drops to the ground as he realizes what he’s done.

He’s never seen a mark like that on his skin.  It’s a child’s game, drawing shapes on your own skin in hopes that your soulmate will respond.  He’d never done it as a child, preferring to mess around with his friends when they weren’t looking.  And no marks had ever appeared on him.

By his seventeenth birthday, he was too afraid to even try. What if he was the one person in the history of the world not to have a soulmate?

But now he’s twenty-five and so, so exhausted.  It’s worth the shot.

Soulmates are necessary, after all.

--

Jongin wears long sleeves to work the next week, terrified of the marks on his arms.  There’s a new one every day and he doesn’t know what to do.  He doesn’t want a soulmate.  He’d even gotten a lifetime of the hope that he’d gotten lucky and didn’t have one.  Now he’s not sure what to do.

Miss Sophie notices, of course, wrinkled hand seizing his wrist and pushing up his sleeve as he hands her her flowers.   “Someone’s a little antsy,” she observes.  “You should probably reply.”

He tries to pull his hand away, refusing to look her in the eye. After a moment, she lets him.

She pauses at the door, old fingers curved around the bottom of the glass vase.  “He just wants to protect you.”

Friday comes.  Miss Sophie buys exactly three sprigs of baby’s breath, and leaves.  Jongin gets no flower today.  Miss Sophie doesn’t even have to say the words; the silence as the door closes speaks them loud enough.

Let him try.

--

Monday morning brings torrents of rain and an ache in his bones, but Baekhyun is too distracted to particularly care.  He’d gotten up before dawn and stumbled blindly into the shower, cursing his stupid job.  Nothing’s strange then.  He’s exactly as pale as he’s always been, save for the black marks up and down his arms, but he knows every one of them, each straight line and careless dot.

And nothing is strange when stumbles back out, skin reddened by the far-too-hot water and the roughness of his towels.  He dresses quickly, carelessly, pulling on a pair of not-too-wrinkled pants and a shirt that’s definitely seen better days.

The only thought he has is of coffee; while the pot brews, he reheats yesterday’s dinner, hoping that maybe it’ll taste better today.

Things only get strange when he drops his fresh coffee on his almost-presentable pants.

Baekhyun scrambles out of the sodden pants, near tears because fuck that was hot.  He drops his pants on the table and stands stock-still in his briefs as his exhausted mind tries to catch up.  It clicks through slowly.  Picked up coffee pot.  Poured coffee into cup.  Wait.  Forgot cup. Poured coffee onto – and cuts off abruptly.  That is not what his thigh looks like.

--

Jongin panics.  Just a little.  Just for a day.  It takes three heartbeats after he’s scrawled three stark words – Where are you? – on his thigh for him to scramble into jeans and sweatshirt and not take them off again.  He’s twenty-three and he’s wasting away into nothing and it’s scaring him, but it scares him even more to reach out.  It feels fake.  He’d rather die alone.

But that’s not really an option.  Death goes both ways, when it comes to soulmates.  And Jongin is no murderer.

--

Where are you? Baekhyun had been asked.  He answers, immediately.  And then he asks When can we meet?

The response comes just before midnight, a hasty scrawl in a spotty blue pen.  It feels like a feather brushing just inside of his skin and there’s the most absurd urge to claw the words out of his skin.  But he doesn’t.  It’s been a long day of stressed waiting and now it’s nothing but relief.

Friday, his thigh reads.  Noon.  Outside the flower shop on 3rd.

--

It’s chilly, but not cold.  Sharp winds tear through the streets, upsetting bins and tearing away awnings.  Jongin taps his fingers anxiously on the countertop as the clock ticks on.  He can’t run.  He can’t hide.  He can’t pretend that this was all some big mistake.  He watches the world swirl by the windows and wonders absently if the window boxes will survive.

The immediate snaps back into focus with the soft jingle of the door.  Miss Sophie walks in, her low heels clacking on the floor.  She looks at him though her thick glasses.  He starts.  It must be noon.

“I’m sorry, Miss Sophie, I have to step out for a moment.” And he’ll swear his voice doesn’t crack.

She smiles at him.  “Of course, dear.” She smiles at him.  “Oh, but wait a moment.  Take this with you.”

He reaches out without even thinking, mind already a thousand steps away.

--

They say that you just know when you meet your soulmate.  They say it’s not a jolt of electricity or niggling feeling in the back of the mind, but a quiet certainty.

Baekhyun thinks it’s like looking in a mirror.

The streets are surprisingly crowded for how chilly it is, this late in February, and he’s been jostled back and forth for almost ten minutes while he’s strained to see faces.  Hoping he doesn’t miss his soulmate.  Whoever they are.

He catches a glimpse of yet another mop of black hair and the whole world slows.  Stops. The man’s two feet away from him, just stepping out of the flower shop, dressed in jeans and a pale sweater. He’s taller than Baekhyun had expected. And then he turns, casting nervously about and Baekhyun could swear he can hear the world click back into place.

Baekhyun is pale and tired and this man is dark and dangerously thin.  It still feels like he’s seeing his reflection walking towards him.

He steps forward.  Introduces himself.

--

Jongin has no words.  They’ve all been stolen away by this intense feeling of belonging.  It doesn’t seem to matter, though.  Baekhyun’s got enough words for both of them.

“Poppies are my favourite,” he says, pointing at Jongin’s hands.  “You like them, too?”

Jongin looks down, confused.  Smiles at the poppy in his hands.  “Yeah.  But this one’s for you.”  It has to be.

Baekhyun’s smile doesn’t quite clear the bags under his eyes. “So, do I get a name with the poppy, or what?”

--

Baekhyun’s thrilled at Jongin’s apartment.  Jongin never thought it was much, just small, and cramped, and horrible, but Baekhyun’s glowing.  He buries himself in the flowers, drifting his fingers over their delicate petals.  He looks blissful.  Due mostly to finding his soulmate, Jongin is sure.  

But Jongin feels like hell, because this isn’t something he’s ever wanted.  But he doesn’t want to break this moment.  Baekhyun is happy, and that feels almost like peace.

Best to ruin everything now, he figures.  It’ll only hurt more, later.

“Baekhyun,” he says, and almost chickens out, “I don’t want a soulmate.”  There’s more to say, there’s more he needs to say, but he can’t find the words.  So, he waits.

“Then what do you want?”  If Baekhyun’s hurt at all by Jongin’s words, he hides it impeccably.

“I don’t know.”

Jongin’s panicking and the room is too quiet and too loud all at once.  This is not how it’s supposed to be.  You’re supposed to want your soulmate.  You’re supposed to feel like your life is complete.  You’re supposed to want the perfect life with them, children and a marriage and holding hands as you die.  And he does he does he does, but he doesn’t. Baekhyun feels right and complete and his, but none of that is happy.

But then there’s a hand in his.  “That makes two of us.”

The world settles.  Again.  Baekhyun’s smiling and Jongin can’t help but smile back.  It’s a little ridiculous.  He’s willing to try, just to keep that smile going.

“Poppies will protect you,” he says, and what kind of idiot just says stuff like that?

Baekhyun doesn’t seem to mind, tilting his head and considering the table full of poppies with drifting fingers.  “Will they really?”

“As long as you let them try.”

--

Their apartment comes cheap.  Cheap is good.  Cheap means a plant on every surface.  Cheap means dates to local restaurants where they drink a little too much and fall into bed laughing, after.  Cheap means only two jobs between them and food still on the table and a furnace that works.

It’s not orthodox, not in the least.  There’s a fish, but no children.  There are books, but no marriage.  There’s a bedroom, but two beds.

But they’re happy and they’re healthy and nothing but themselves.

It’s all the poppies’ fault.

Ende

[resplendentroses324]

Things I love and Appreciate™️ about Good Omens from both the book and show in no particular order:

- Crowley makes a point of saying he didn’t mean to fall, ergo he never meant to become a demon

-When he did fall it wasn’t falling it was a SAUNTER (vaguely downwards)

-David TenNANTS SAUNTERING

-Aziraphale shielding Crowley with his wing in the rain

-Crowley’s LOOKS™️ throughout history

-For some fucking amazing reason if Crowley leaves cds in his car for too long it turns into the Best of Queen

-Crowley trapped a demon in a cassette tape and considered leaving it in the car so it would turn into Queen

-Aziraphale being perceived as “gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide”

-The Earth being a Libra

-Crowley started the first conversation he and Zira ever had

-Crowley wanting to take Jesus to travel the world

-Crowley taking the stain out of Zira’s coat because he pouted at him

-Aziraphale lighting a cop’s ticket book on fire as he was writing Crowley a ticket

-CROWLEY BRINGING ZIRA’S DOVE BACK TO LIFE WHAT DEMON /DOES THAT/

-Uh......CROWLEY, just like, in general

-Crowley walking into a church even though it pains him to step on holy ground to save Zira from Nazis.

-One of the Nazis being Mark Gatiss who just magically appears as a background character in every british show

-After blowing up said Nazis and the whole church with it made sure that Zira’s books miraculously survived the explosion

-Aziraphale turning a gun into a water pistol because it was pointed at Crowley who wasn’t paying attention.

-Crowley being called a Flash Bastard.

-Crowley being asleep throughout the whole 19th century because he likes naps

-Golden Girls is one of Crowley’s favorite shows

-The part about Greasy Johnson and how they drop the bomb on you that he’s Baby B in a FOOTNOTE and the only reason you put two and two together is because of the comment about tropical fish

-Crowley ensuring Hamlet would be popular because Aziraphale pouted at him and asked nicely

-Aziraphale just wanted to make Anathema’s bike nicer for her

-How lovingly Crowley calls Zira ‘Angel’ when you’d expect him to say it sarcastically.

-Aziraphale thinking he ought to tell Crowley about a situation and promptly realizing that he wanted to tell Crowley something before he told Heaven about it

-Aziraphale knowing something was wrong just because of the way Crowley answered the phone

-Crowley legitimately tries to model himself as a type of person and makes decisions in decorating based on what kind of human he think’s he’d be. Aka Crowley has a humansona

-Crowley’s plants are the most beautiful in London because he yells at them

-Aziraphale is the only angel that knows how to dance

-MICHAEL SHEEN’S ADORABLE SMILE HE HAS WHEN DANCING IN THE SCENE WHERE THEY EXPLAIN THAT ZIRA DANCES.

-The TERRIBLE 70s montage dance that Crowley is doing in the same scene to explain how demons dance but fucking awfully

-The guy that thought Crowley and Zira were breaking up on the street and gave Zira his sympathies

-The first swear Aziraphale had said in more than 6000 years being ‘bugger’ and then immediately five minutes later says fuck

-Somebody to Love playing over Crowley searching for Zira in the burning shop

-Aziraphale in Paris about to be executed nevermind that he’s an angel and perfectly capable of rescuing himself waits for Crowley to come rescue him and acts relieved when HE REALLY COULD HAVE LEFT AT ANY TIME

-“Don’t look so disappointed. Perhaps one day we could...we could go on a picnic, dine at the Ritz”

-“I’ll give you a lift. Anywhere you want to go”

-YOU GO TO /FAST/ FOR ME CROWLEY

-“Because, underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist.”

-Crowley thinking Zira to be dead and instead of drinking himself silly decides to still try and save the world

-Crowley saving the world simply because his husband threatens to not talk to him ever again

-Aziraphale and Crowley getting HeavenandHell.exe to stop working simply by asking if they were sure the Great Plan was the same thing as the Ineffable Plan.

-Any instance where Crowley is just bullshitting someone ie: the phone hoax

-‘God does not play games with His loyal servants’ “whooo-ee, where have you /been/“

-ZIRA AND CROWLEY HOLDING HANDS TO FACE SATAN

-“It’s all worked out for the best though...just imagine how awful it might have been if we had been at all competent....” “......eeeeeuh....point taken” DUMBASSES

-Crowley ‘has good cheekbones’ and ‘can do really weird things with his tongue’

-“SO LONG SUCKAAAAA” *procedes to do really weird snake tongue hiss*

-Crowley ALSO doesn’t blink much and hisses when he’s frustrated. SNAKE. MAN.

-THE SWAP. How well they know each other to be able fucking fool their bosses of more than 6000 years

-How you can tell the Swap was made between the bus scene and the next day because of “Zira”’s face and attitude when he went into the shop and “Crowley”s giddy smile at the sight of the Bentley

-Zira hailing a cab when he was pretending to be Crowley instead of driving the Bentley because he probably respects the car and its owner too much to take the driver’s seat

-Both of them asking about the shop/car because they’re switched and want to know the state of their beloved things and both of them assuring their husband that their precious car and shop were ok

-Crowley knowing the shop well enough to notice there were books that weren’t there before

-How much fun Zira appeared to be having pretending to be Crowley like ‘hee hee im a demon!’ meanwhile Crowley is using his time as Zira to spit hell fire at Gabriel for being mean to his husband.

-That heartwarming toast to the world and the LOVE in Aziraphale’s eyes.

-demon wings are the same as angel wings except demons groom theirs better

-The strawberry popsicle and the vanilla ice cream cone

-Them dining at the Ritz while a Nightengale sings in Berkley square

-THE DELETED SCENE FROM THE SCRIPT BOOK WHERE CROWLEY BRINGS ZIRA FLOWERS AND CHOCOLATES TO COMMEMORATE THE OPENING OF HIS SHOP

-THE SAME SCENE CONTINUED ON TO CROWLEY SCARING GABRIEL INTO LETTING ZIRA STAY ON EARTH BECAUSE ZIRAS THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN “THWART HIS DEMONIC PLANS”

-Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett never thinking this absolute masterpiece would ever be popular in any way, and then it WAS

-Michael Sheen and David Tennant openly saying that it’s a love story and talking about the romance and discussing how the characters love each other and how they express it and how Michael makes a point of saying how he stares lovingly at Crowley in scenes.

-How I very rarely obsess over something enough to post so much of it at once and declare my blog dedicated to it and how the post I made right before this one was a declaration that this is now a Good Omens blog

-The fact that I’ve edited this post at least eight times because the ineffable husbands tag keeps reminding me of more good shit™️

[four-loose-screws]

Their Sealed Pasts - FE4 Short Story Translation - Section 2

If you would like to start from the beginning, read a missed part, etc., click here!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations - Ko-fi

I consider this a “section” and not a “part” because it’s a break that I defined myself. This short story was not broken up into parts by the author.

T/W: Half-sibling incest. Direct implications of sex, but no explicit scenes.

———————————

Their Sealed Pasts

Short Story #5 of Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War - The Last of the Earth Dragon Tribe

Section 2

Deirdre was not a virgin.

But this fact did not change his feelings for her, rather, it made them burn all the brighter.

Every night, as he touched her, he felt pangs of jealousy.

'Someone else did as he pleased with this beautiful body before me.'

Not wanting to lose to this unknown man brought him to love her all the more passionately.

Nothing satisfied him more than her moans of pleasure, but at the same time, they also made him suffer.

'Tell me, did you moan just like this for him?'

But he couldn't ask her, because she could not remember anything before him.

'I can't go on like this.' He thought. 'I've been so fixated on her past, that it's become an obstacle to everything I am planning to do. I cannot stand to think about it any longer.'

ー

Arvis sat down at his place at the table.

"Deirdre, I've been thinking. About why you appeared before me after you lost your memory. And I've concluded that it was destiny. It was your destiny to lose your memory and be mine. So I don't want you to try to remember your past anymore. Only for you to make more memories with me."

Tears welled up in Deirdre's eyes.

"What happened? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, not at all! Actually, I'm very happy!" She wiped away her tears with a handkerchief.

"This whole time, I've thought of myself as only half a person. As a woman that can't possibly be good enough for you. During the day, when you go to the palace, I try as hard as I can to regain my memories. But I can't, no matter what I do. When you come home, I always blame myself. Today was the same. I'm a terrible, awful woman…" Her last words trailed off into a wail.

"You don't have to feel like that anymore, Deirdre. What I’m saying is, we are the most perfect couple in all the world. Today, I visited the king. I told him that I found the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with. And then he said he wants to give us his blessing."

"You… You did…?"

"He was overjoyed, and asked me to bring you to the palace tomorrow."

"Am I really the one? A woman like me…?"

"Don’t say that. You are the most amazing woman I have ever met." He said with all the conviction he could muster. Then, he repeated to himself over and over that he couldn't obsess over her past anymore, and sealed those thoughts deep within his heart.

That night, he made love to her without a single worry in his heart for the first time.

All unease disappeared from her face as well.

'She's even more beautiful now than ever before.' He thought.

When they were finished, Deirdre said, "I don't know why, but that was the first time our love has ever felt quite like that."

He stroked her soft, smooth back. "I felt the same way. I love you, Deirdre."

"I love you too, Arvis. I love you so much."

They fell asleep in each other's arms, and slept soundly until morning.

ー

King Azmur sat on the throne for the first time in a long time.

Arvis walked up to him with his fiancée, and they both bowed.

"It's good to see you. Please, raise your heads."

Deirdre bowed further, dropping down on one knee, before doing so.

The king’s expression changed suddenly.

"Is something the matter, Your Majesty?" Arvis asked.

"It's nothing." He said, then looked closely at Deirdre's face once more. “Young lady, I understand that you have lost your memory?”

“Yes, I have.”

“So you don’t remember anything about your parents?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“I may be wrong, but… Your face reminds me of someone. Please take off your circlet, and show me your forehead.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She looked puzzled, but raised her arms to take off her circlet.

She always wore it. Even Arvis had yet to see her without it on.

“Is this okay?”

On her forehead was a white, wave-shaped mark.

“I knew it.”

“What is it?” Arvis asked, worry dripping in his voice.

“That mark on her forehead is the Holy Mark passed down through Grannvale’s royal family. Deirdre, was it? There is no doubt in my mind that you are my son Kurt’s orphan.”

“What are you saying? That my fiancée is Prince Kurt’s daughter…?

“Yes, I am. I do not know when or with whom he may have fathered her, but I know that she is his daughter. This is cause for celebration! I worried that Grannvale’s royal bloodline had died out, but the gods have not abandoned the Crusaders after all. Duke Arvis, Deirdre, I give you my blessing to marry as soon as possible and produce an heir. Duke Arvis, I will grant you the status of regent, and you will run the kingdom’s government until your successor has grown. What a joyous occasion this is! We must announce the news throughout the country straight away!”

It was Arvis’ final chance to question who she was. He started to wonder how she could be Prince Kurt’s daughter...

But he had already sealed his heart off from thinking about her past.

All he could think about was the idea that he was next in line to inherit the Grannvalian throne.

‘Everything is going according to plan.’

War continued to ravage the continent, yet Grannvale remained almost completely unaffected by it, throwing a wedding so extravagant it would be the major news story long after it happened.

ー

Sigurd’s army came out of hiding in Silesse, and killed Lombard.

Now, they were gaining momentum, and traveling across the Yied Desert towards Grannvale.

But Arvis had a plan in place for every possibility.

He ordered Friege’s army, led by Reptor, and Velthomer’s army, led by General Aida, to face Sigurd's army head-on. However, once the fighting started, Velthomer’s mages rained Meteor spells down on Friege’s Army.

Friege’s Army panicked, and Reptor was killed by Sigurd, who had obtained his Holy Weapon, the Holy Sword Tyrfing.

General Aida opened the gate to Velthomer Castle, and greeted Sigurd. 

“Duke Arvis knows that you are innocent, Lord Sigurd. He says everything that transpired was all the work of Duke Reptor and Duke Lombard. They were simply too powerful for Duke Arvis to do anything about them until now.”

“Really? Then that means my father’s name will be cleared as well?” He asked her with a cold expression on his face.

“Yes, Duke Arvis is waiting with His Majesty for you in Balhalla. The Roten Ritter will be there to greet you. The entire country will celebrate your triumphant return.”

Sigurd announced to his army that the war was over, and disbanded them.

Only two hundred of his soldiers went to Balhalla, and just a single unit went with him to the palace.

What the world would soon call “The Battle of Balhalla” would not be a battle at all. It would be a massacre.

Arvis himself stood before Sigurd, and declared him a traitor. Then, Arvis pulled Deirdre alongside him. “Take a good look at him! This is the man who killed your father! Sigurd, son of Duke Byron! He will now be executed for his crimes!”

Then, Sigurd screamed, “Deirdre!”

She looked at him in complete surprise.

“Of course! I know everything now, Deirdre! It was him!”

“You… You know me...?”

Arvis cut off her next question, and ushered her to the back of the Rotten Ritter. “Take my wife back to the palace.”

The two soldiers each took one of her hands.

“Wait, milord! ...Just give me one moment with him…”

But the soldiers began to pull her along, nearly dragging her across the ground.

“Deirdre!!”

“All units! Kill the traitor and his soldiers!”

It was over in an instant.

The only traitor who survived was a woman, who lost her right arm and fell unconscious in critical condition.

Those who had traveled to Balhalla, but did not go to the castle, all fled without even trying to put up a fight.

‘So it was him. He is the man who loved her before me.’ Arvis thought to himself as he looked down at Sigurd’s charred remains. ‘But it is no matter. The past is in the past, and now he is dead. The only problem is whether or not she regained her memories when he called out to her.’

He didn’t want her to remember.

He wanted her to be his, and his alone.

Once he confirmed that the battle was over, he returned to the palace.

His wife was alone in her room, sitting in a chair in the corner, lost in thought.

When she realized that Arvis had entered the room, she pleaded, “Tell me! Did he know something about my past!?”

‘Thank the gods. Her memories did not return.’ He sighed and answered, “I do not know. But he was always a liar. Surely, he thought that by pretending to know you, I would spare his life.”

“I see. If that’s the case, then I understand, but…”

“You have no reason to worry. As I’ve always said to you, we gain nothing by obsessing over the past. Your only memories are the ones you have with me. Those as my perfect bride.” He took her hand, pulled her up from the chair, and hugged her tenderly.

“Hold me tighter. I’m so scared of what my past might have been. Even one thought about it chills me to the bone.”

“It’s alright. I’m here.”

They held each other for a long, long time.

A few days later, he learned that she was pregnant.

ー

The rebellion was over.

And King Azmur was on his death bed.

To build his new empire, Arvis had to work long, hard days, and traveled frequently.

While subjugating Leonster to the east, he was informed that his wife had given birth to twins, a boy and a girl. All three of them were doing well.

He named the boy Julius, and the girl Julia.

With their king and inheritor to holy blood, Quan, gone, Leonster did not put up much of a fight. Seeing that there was still much to be done, he entrusted Leonster to Reptor’s son, Bloom, and returned home.

He promised Bloom the title of King of Leonster. Bloom vowed his absolute loyalty with glee.

It was Arvis’ first time coming home in two months.

He rushed up to Deirdre’s room, and found her breastfeeding one of the babies.

The sight of her husband’s return put a smile on her face, but made Arvis gasp in response.

Deirdre no longer had the face of a young woman, but of a mother. And it reminded him exactly of his mother’s.

‘Mother!’ He couldn’t bring himself to say the word, screaming it inside of his heart instead.

And it became the key that unlocked the seal upon his heart.

Every one of his forgotten memories came flooding back to him.

His father’s suicide. His mother, Cigyun, and Prince Kurt’s behavior at the funeral. And his mother’s disappearance.

As a child who'd become the Duke of Velthomer at such a young age, he had to be strong to protect his title. However, he was still just a boy who'd lost his mother and been left alone, so at first, he’d cried time and time again.

With all the pieces in place, he put the truth together.

His wife was the child born between his mother and Prince Kurt.

He'd fallen in love with her at first sight because his unconscious saw his mother's image in her.

'I married my sister from a different father, and even had children with her.'

For any normal person, it would be a shameful secret, and end there.

‘But I inherited Loptous’ blood from my mother. So children born between my sister and me would likely have much thicker Loptrian blood than us. What will this mean for them?'

And the last thing he remembered were Manfroy’s words. “She is waiting for you.”

‘What are you planning, Manfroy!?’

“What’s wrong, milord?” Deirdre saw that her husband was still standing in the doorway, and called out to him. Then, she looked down at their child. “Look, Julius, it’s your father!”

Her voice dragged him to their side.

“Aw, look at our son. He looks just like you!”

The boy seemed to be like any other innocent infant, eyes closed, peacefully sucking his mother’s breast.

Except for the tiny red dot on his forehead.

[guernsey-island]

Please answer 1-98 >:3

Weird asks that say a lot

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?      water bottles 2. chocolate bars or lollipops?      chocolate bars 3. bubblegum or cotton candy?      cotton candy, though I don't like either very much 4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?      I don't know 5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?      plastic cups??? 6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?      sportswear I guess 7. earbuds or headphones?      I only have earbuds right now, but I like both 8. movies or tv shows?      tv shows, but that doesn't mean I don't like movies too 9. favorite smell in the summer?      the ocean 10. game you were best at in p.e.?      capture the flag 11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?      whatever I can find 12. name of your favorite playlist?      "Good Songs :D" 13. lanyard or key ring?      key ring 14. favorite non-chocolate candy?      I don't particularly like any non-chocolate candy. Too artificial and sweet :/ 15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?      Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes 16. most comfortable position to sit in?      leaning back and with my legs out 17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?      white converse 18. ideal weather?      raining or a mild temperature like 80 degrees F paired with high humidity 19. sleeping position?      I fall asleep on my side and wake up on my back 20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?      Google docs heheh 21. obsession from childhood?      I was one of those warrior cats kids (no, I didn't pretend to be warrior cats at recess) 22. role model?      Snickers 23. strange habits?      popping my back, checking sunset/sunrise times 24. favorite crystal?     all crystals are great 25. first song you remember hearing?      Counting Stars by OneRepublic 26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?      hiking 27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?      reading 28. five songs to describe you?      Modern Loneliness- Lauv // Scared of Heights- Loving Caliber // backpack- slchld // By Now- Will Jay // Come True- khai dreams, Forrest., Biskwiq 29. best way to bond with you?      don't annoy me 30. places that you find sacred?      the beach when no one is there or deep in the mountains 31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?      ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 32. top five favorite vines?      road work ahead, jared 19, damn daniel, 2 bros chillin in a hot tub, x files theme 33. most used phrase in your phone?      probably >:3 34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?      that spotify ad about peter and jumping/skipping rope. IF you knew what an 8track tape was!! 35. average time you fall asleep?      ~2:30am 36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?      the pepe the frog memes 37. suitcase or duffel bag?      suitcase 38. lemonade or tea?      lemonade but tea is also superb 39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?      lemon cake bc I've never had lemon meringue pie 40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?      I don't really remember. Let's go with Mr. Rightmyer and Mr. Mikow in general (ig matrix_multiplication). or maybe the time Sami put a lamp on her head and pretended to be Shaggy 41. last person you texted?      Snickers 42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?      jacket pockets 43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?      hoodie 44. favorite scent for soap?      hmmm something tropical 45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?      sci-fi 46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?      clothing 47. favorite type of cheese?      swiss or colby jack or parmigiano-reggiano 48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?      peaches bc they're the best fruit 49. what saying or quote do you live by?      "you become what you think about" "success is the progressive realization of a worthy goal or ideal"- Earl Nightingale "the opposite of courage is not cowardice, it is conformity" "sanity and happiness are an impossible combination"- Mark Twain "If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading"- Lao Tzu "failure will never overtake me if my determination to succeed is strong enough" - Og Mandino 50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?      let's go with https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TilHylia7rE and more recently, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=voncdcV648g 51. current stresses?      upcoming exams, writing essays 52. favorite font?      My current favorites are Frank Ruhl Libre, Overlock, and Rajdhani 53. what is the current state of your hands?      good, though I perpetually have a bump on one finger from writing too much 54. what did you learn from your first job?      job?? what job? 55. favorite fairy tale?      three little pigs 56. favorite tradition?      sleeping 57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?      I don't know 58. four talents you’re proud of having?      Freestyling (ground moves and juggling), shooting knuckleballs, popping my back really well, running a 5-6 minute mile 59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?      I don’t know what my catchphrase would be 60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?      a shonen where the protagonist is trying to survive in a crazy world, become the best at something, or master some special power (examples: tower of god or solo leveling if it was an anime) OR something with a mafia 61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?      "Well, if you only knew how little I really know about the things that matter"- Elio in cmbyn the movie (think about this quote all the time) "Let us cultivate our garden"-Candide in Candide by Voltaire “The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas.”- Sinclair in Demian by Hermann Hesse “I wanted only to live in accord with the promptings which came from my true self. Why was that so very difficult?”- Sinclair in Demain by Hermann Hesse “Know yourself and go in swinging.”- More than this by Patrick Ness “Just leave me alone. I’m not myself. I’m falling apart, and I don’t want you here.”- Charlie in Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes Tons of quotes and references from Arthur, httyd, and other media 62. seven characters you relate to?      Lance (vld), zuko (atla), okonkwo (things fall apart), nwoye (things fall apart), bokuto (haikyuu), sinclair (demian), hiccup (httyd) 63. five songs that would play in your club?      Wednesday Girl- Elijah Who, Aso, Peachy!, Kudasaibeats, slchld // Way Back Home- SHAUN, Conor Maynard, Sam Feldt // Let Me Down Slow (Acoustic)- New Hope Club // Crush Culture- Conan Gray // All Night Long- TAEYEON, LUCAS 64. favorite website from your childhood?      animal jam 65. any permanent scars?      I have a ton of scars on my legs and knees. I ran into a cart at staples once and have a big scar from that. I have a few scars on my elbows too 66. favorite flower(s)?      columbine (CO state flower) 67. good luck charms?      none 68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?      I have no idea 69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?      I don’t know 70. left or right handed?       right 71. least favorite pattern?      cheetah or zebra print 72. worst subject?      hmmm biology but only bc I don't put in the effort 73. favorite weird flavor combo?      I don't know. I like food 74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?      I don't think I've experienced enough pain to accurately answer this question. I've only taken ibuprofen once (when I got my wisdom teeth taken out), but I didn't think it was that necessary to take 75. when did you lose your first tooth?      probably when I was six 76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?      scalloped potatoes, hash browns, Spanish tortillas, potato salad, mashed potatoes 77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?      aloe vera 78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?      sushi from a grocery store 79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?      school ID 80. earth tones or jewel tones?      earth tones 81. fireflies or lightning bugs?      they're called fireflies 82. pc or console?      pc 83. writing or drawing?      writing 84. podcasts or talk radio?      podcasts 84. barbie or polly pocket?      no 85. fairy tales or mythology?      mythology 86. cookies or cupcakes?      cookies 87. your greatest fear?      Accidentally biting off my tongue and then choking on it, seeing things in mirrors, being stabbed with a knife as I enter a hotel elevator, receiving emails 88. your greatest wish?      Happiness??? I don’t know 89. who would you put before everyone else?      Snickers 90. luckiest mistake?      I don't know 91. boxes or bags?      boxes 92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?      sunlight 93. nicknames?      let's not talk abt that,,, 94. favorite season?      spring or summer 95. favorite app on your phone?      google play books, goodreads, tumblr, kakaotalk, spotify, google keep 96. desktop background?      it's a slideshow. the background at the moment is a photo of Manarola, Italy taken by Peter Hegedus. It's one of my favorite photographs of all time 97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?      three not including 911 (so four) 98. favorite historical era?     1300s in the Mongol empire or around when the spice trade was at its peak, 1800s in America during westward expansion, 1920s, ancient egypt, Harlem Renaissance