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#or fog particles or just anything
stonebutchery · 3 months
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renter's hack for smoke detectors that just go off at random no matter how many fresh 9 volt batteries i stick in them: just disable them entirely. if i die, i die.
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h5eavenly · 2 months
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Promise of eternity.
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words: 900 | pairing: lee minho x reader | genre: fluff, sweet and soft love what is this?? angie writing smth that isn't angst??
Love comes to you in the most unanticipated moments. It swims through every blood vessel in your essence and paints every particle of you with affection, oozing right from the depths of your heart until you’re half of the person you love. His delights interweave with yours, and you find it in your being to grow the same likeness for it as well. Giving room for appreciation to bloom towards things you never paid attention to before.
It comes to you when you awake in the middle of the night, Minho’s scent between your sheets and his body intermingled with yours.
His body heavy atop yours and yet with a drowsy mind you can only grow to be grateful, for something as trivial as a fleeting moment. To have him this close, to be lucky enough to share proximity with the person you love and to have his soft breaths hitting the side of your face.
Affinity for the reminder that you’re allowed to love him even when he’s fallen into a deeper slumber.
It is forgotten as soon as your eyelids fall back shut yet the warmth of gratitude lingers in the core of your being. It’s almost one with you, nestles deeper through you whenever you look at him. Whether it’s the morning after or weeks later, when a smile as warm is drawn upon his face as he plays with his cats in your living room.
The fondness in your eyes, your own smile dispersing across your lips with no permission from you are all just countless verification of your feelings, a crude unveils of your unyielding longing for him even when he’s next to you.
Like the moon unfurling from behind the fog with intention, albeit not as lucid, it’s there.
Minho calls you dramatic with a teasing smirk each time, you only think you’re a human with too much love to give and he serendipitously happened to stumble into your embrace.
It hits you on a non-particular evening, the sun is setting, and the sky is colored with hues of orange and a soft pink while the two of you lie under a sky painted with white clouds. His head rests on your shoulder and love flows through every part of you, in the iced peach tea you made just for him and the crown of flowers you had placed atop his head. He remains a vision of forever, promises woven with eternity in his thumb as it swipes across the skin of your arm.
“If you could be anything in the world right now, what would you be?” you ask, tilting your head at a cloud that looks awfully similar to Dori.
“Asleep.”
“Answer seriously!” you complain endearingly, pinching at his arm with no intent for hurt to unfold.
“What’s wrong with wanting to be asleep?” he replies, voice laced with amusement “what would you be?” he faces you, his fingers trailing up your arm and your noses almost touch. A breathless giggle tumbling out your lips with no reason other than appreciation to have him this close.
“A bird!” Your cheerfulness colors the cadence of your tone and his smile melts deeper into devoted affection for you.
“Why a bird?”
“Because I could fly to you whenever I want” you answer so easily, paradoxical to how hard his heart starts beating against his ribcage, pulsating with the same love you hold so warmly in your eyes for him.
“You don’t need to fly to me if I’m next to you all the time.” His fingers brush over your brow like the soft strokes of a lovesick’s paintbrush, leaving behind specks of partiality.
“I know but sometimes you need to go away without me, if I’m a bird then I can just follow you.” you close your eyes, smiling with all the love in the world etched onto your lips.
“You’re an idiot.” He whispers, chuckling with depraved desire to hide you in the deepest parts of his heart, then you won’t have to wish to be anything else. he already has you, one with his being.
“But I am your idiot?” you ask, interlocking your fingers with his, soft caresses of affection land atop your cheeks, their beauty unmatched, no sunset could ever compare.
“Always.”
Love came to you unexpectedly, from the moment your eyes locked with Minho for the first time, your souls had touched and there was no way for you to stop it. And you found yourself waking up each day with delirium to turn your head and watch Minho next to you, never too far away and always within reach. Despite your fear of being nothing but a ghost of a touch across his skin, Minho is always there with an unwavering burning for you.
“I love you.” he tells you, like peace has never been this present unless he’s next you and your smile widen.
“I love you too.”
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megumisgirl · 1 year
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nerd!megumi x fem reader part three ↝ feeding you horny ppl because this is one of my most liked and requested one! hope you enjoy <3
nerd!megumi who always tutors you before every major exam. teaches you in a more effective method. "listen, y/n," he grabbed your attention, spinning you around in your chair so you'd face him, his hands on both sides of your handrest, trapping you, "let's play a game, shall we? everytime you get an answer right, i take a particle of my clothes off. and if you're wrong, you take them off."
a sly smirk would be plastered on his face by how hard you were trying to get all the answers correctly. by now, you were just in your panties and matching bralette, and he was in his sweatpants, frurstrating tears welled up in your eyes from not being able to remember the simple math formulas that were so easy for you before, but now you need help to learn.
nerd!megumi who cooes you, strokes your hair and calms you down as you cry about your math struggles. you hugs you tightly and doesn't let go till your breathing and heart rate is normal again. but it's difficult to slow down your heart rate when you're on his lap, his large long hands under your hoodie calming you down as he whispered the softest, nicest compliments into your ear.
"shh..shh...it's okay, it's okay. it's just a math problem," he laughed airly, as he hugged you tighter, "your too smart for it, butterfly. come on, clean yourself up," he said, leaning back to look at your red swollen face, and puffy nose, your lips glossy from drool and your eyes bloodshot, "then we can cuddle, watch star wars, and have ice cream, hmm?" you shot him a small smile as you wiped your face with the back of your hand. "you look so pretty when you cry..."
nerd!megumi who sends you nudes in the middle of your lecture.
Megs <3
Attachment : 1 image. do you like it? sent 11:05am
him shirtless, with wet hair, his glasses fogged up and he's only covered by the thin towel that hangs lowly on his waist, showing his v-cut. your eyes trailed down to his abs, water droplets coat him and you hope it was you.
You
I'm in class!! sent 11:10am
Megs <3
you don't like it? Attachment : 5 new images. sent 11:25am
this time the towel was gone. his pink tip was wet and his cock huge. one of his large hand covered his cock and you closed your eyes, feeling the heat grow between your thighs.
"ms. y/n, can you repeat anything i just said, or is your entire syllabus written on your phone?"
nerd!megumi who goes to the dean demand that your teacher stop being so unprofessional and rude towards you. megumi who asks you to step outside, and threatens the dean, "i'm your top student, aren't i?" he pushed his glasses up, the dean shifted nervously on his seat. megumi stayed quiet, waiting for his answer.
"yes."
"then you know if i say something out in the public, how deeply it would effect your college. teachers would get fired, i wonder if you will even stay. especially with your affair with the assistant teacher of mrs. passwater." he smirked, the dean's eyes widened as he opened his mouth but megumi put his finger up, shushing him, "who is fifteen years younger than you. keep mr. suguro's gaze out of y/n, and i will keep my mouth shut." megumi, who comes out of the dean's office with the most unreadable of expression, "wanna get waffles, butterfly?"
nerd!megumi who is so nervous when he's metting your parents. "do you think they will like me?" he sighed, "maybe i should've worn the suit. maybe the hoodie was bit too casual." he mumbled, fixing unknown creases from his hoodie as you held his hand. "i love you so much, you know that?" you smiled at him, kissing his temple as he blushed furiously, "i hope you love me like the way i love you." he sighed, his deep blue eyes growing a little sad as you kissed his cheek.
"i love you, too, megs. you don't have to doubt my love, be like anakin." he smirked, as you smiled cheekily. your parents definately hit it off with megumi. they ate every joke, every observational comments, and they, of course, loved the fact that he was so good at his studies... and that he was rich. "they love youuuuu!" you said happily, hugging him, "we should get married." his eyes widened as you gasped, "after we graduate. and have our careers on the ground."
"i'd marry you any day." he said, mumbling against your lips, "i love you."
"i know."
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walls171 · 2 months
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Things horror mods could do other than ugly monsters
At random times in the world, chunks with a max regional difficulty (so over 50 hours on that chunk) will start to get dust particles around the place and some vague wind with whispers sounds start to play, during this moments all other sounds will get muffled, during this event players will very slowly loose their health without any indication of it (apart of the health bar) it will not kill them but it can get very dangerous
When changing between dimensions there's a chance to appear in a black dark dimensions with plains like terrain and a somewhat dense fog in this place you have to find an exit portal but you can also stumble into a single enemy which make the fog even denser when they are around so you can't see them until is too late, also the enemy is nothing creepy looking could just be a player model with your skin and red overlay, doesn't kill you, it just send you back to the portal from which you enter and with no hunger at all so you start to starve immediately, you can scare them by looking directly at them, to avoid this getting repetitive this can only happen if you have already visited the other dimension and if it has been over 10 hours since the last time it happened
You can find random gray blocks around the place which upon looking directly at it they start to slowly fade away and make a hum it reduces your sensitivity for a moment to make you extra aware you are looking at it, if you stop looking at it before they finish fading away it will teleport you to some random position over 1k blocks away with a little nausea effect in the process
Now for an actual mob threat, tall statue mob of 3 blocks of height with a single closed eyes, it can appear in a woodland mansion in the secret rooms or randomly during a raid with the illagers, they walk around very loudly but when they stop moving they will open their eye and look around the place for anyone moving and if it is, it will magically cause whoever moved to explode (not a block breaking explosion) and then proceed to moving around with its eye closed again, it can't explode 2 entities in a row, it can't be killed normally, but it will turn into stone blocks once the raid wave is cleared, in the case of a raid, or when it steps out of the mansion, in the case of the mansion one
My goal in this? really is not about killing players or giving dangers per se but about giving things which just bring tension and a feeling of weakness
is mostly why I kept more of the dangers more like dramatic annoyance, although for the tall statue mob I wanted a treat presented in a environment in which it can be seen being dangerous towards the enemies to show why it needs to be feared and to teach you how it works before it kills you
Also is about not using grotesque looking things, if anything I find a player model moving just like you more scary because of the uncanny of something that appears somewhat like you
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doki-doki-imagines · 1 year
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Bunny boy
Michael Kaiser is the winner of this event! Go under the Read More to see the meaning of some phrase/words
If the post won't show up this time too I promise I won't care. Maybe
TW: Probable OCD for Michael, panic attack, angst with happy ending, happy for real don't worry
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“Please don’t go” Michael almost whines, something you never dream to hear from a football superstar of his caliber.
Thankfully you do, it’s not like you had to do anything better at home, and seeing a football superstar beg you wonderfully strokes your ego.
This decision reveals to be crucial for Michael’s health. It takes you a look at his pupils, his ragged breath, and his latex-covered hand clenching almost desperately your arm, to understand that the situation was going downhill really fast.
Meanwhile, Michael’s brain couldn’t work anymore, the breath of the people at the local giving him goosebumps, some people sneezing, others coughing, he can literally see the particles flying in the air. The shirt he wetted before, now clutching on his body feels like a strait-jacket; who knows how many people drank from that bawl that he spilled on himself earlier.
Intrusive thoughts invade his brain, he can’t think of anything other than all the illnesses these commoners are going to give him; how could he act so carelessly?
Michael let go of your arms, he pulls away like someone that just touched fire, he looks around searching for the nearest bathroom, but his eyes are already full of tears, as much as he looks left and right he can’t see anything other than one room full of ‘walking bacteria’ and he just needs to escape.
He tries, but he falls on his right knee, legs giving out, Michael’s mind so dizzy that he doesn’t even notice how hard he hits the ground.
And nobody cares. Not a single soul called for help. Or cared enough to ask him if everything is okay.
You never thought such a small local could contain so much shit.
“Michael, can you hear my voice?”
You crouch down next to him, but at a safe distance, in case you need to avoid being hit. Michael replies with a hum, it is enough for you to go on.
“Michael I think you are having a panic attack, am I right?”
A nod between shivers.
“Please Michael don’t curl into a ball and look at me.”
Thankfully he listens to you and stares straight into your eyes (or you think so, his mind must be so fogged right now to see clearly)
“Now I want you to breathe in through your nose and breath out from your mouth, can you feel the air going in? How it goes from cold to hot? Can you?”
He follows you, his breathing still going a little too fast to be normal, but at least he looks calmer than before.
“Now close your eyes and concentrate on the flow of the air, use your diaphragm to breathe, can you feel it going down your torso?” and he nods “Okay keep this going, just listen to my voice and concentrate on your breath, everything else doesn’t exist, just you and me”
It takes a dozen minutes for Michael to be finally able to breathe normally, to look fine, then he slowly opens his eyes, your face the first thing he sees in his field of vision; to say the truth you are the only one he wants to look at this moment.
“Want to hold my hands? Look I just cleaned them, still smell like soap if you don’t believe me” You say, voice barely a whisper, warm and soothing
Michael accepts, not without giving a sniff first (like you didn’t notice it, he is a terrible actor)
“Can I get a hug too?” he says with a bold smirk, but his tired eyes told you the truth and with fake annoyance you accept.
“You should also pet my head, and try not to touch the ears, they are made of latex, you know? Really delicate” Michael dares to ask, maybe it is easier to do when his face is hidden behind your shoulders.
“Do you also want a butt slice? Aren’t you asking a bit too much!?” You reply back so fast that Michael got taken aback.
He pulls up to look straight into your eyes, hands now gripping your shoulder, the tremblings from before completely vanished, and then Michael bursts laughing, one of those ugly, loud, but sincere ones. You can’t help but laugh along with the guy in your arms, noticing how different his eyes look right now, a wonderful shade of sky blue, smile shining so bright even in this dark room (and are those dimples? You are a lucky bastard Michael), his chest still wet from the beverage he spilled on himself earlier making his chest shine so bright and your eyes just wander ‘till they stop to look at his erect and perfectly shaped nipp-
What the hell are you doing? Don’t make the arrogant bastard you just helped in a bad moment notice how attracted you are to him.
Too bad. It is too late.
“Schatz, I know I’m hot, but if you keep staring I may think you want to eat me up”
You fool. Your soft heart and your (newfound) Wendy syndrome just signed your demise.
Because Michael is endlessly handsome, too much for his own good and you noticed him after the first step in the local. Sadly you also noticed how dramatic and eccentric he is and just avoided him, trying to blend with the moldy walls, avoiding his teasing glazes, hoping you won’t be picked; sadly you also noticed the many heated glances he sent your way, making you warm and tingly all over.
“You wish blondie. Did you hit your head earlier? Something is wrong for sure with your sight”
Michael laughs, but this time is sneering and you feel like it’s the right time to dig your own grave.
“Maybe I did, you look beautiful right now”
Internal screaming. Panic. It feels like someone stabbed you, but the person stabbed you with some dumb shit like a cupid arrow that makes you all warm and the person is a beautiful blonde German dressed like a bunny that is now in your arms, looking like he wants to devour you.
You squeak and push him away, finally standing up and putting as much distance as possible.
Michael is still on his knees, looking at you with predatory eyes, looking for a weak point to target and attack, licking his chapped lips like a tiger ready to feast upon his prey; you are the bunny, all trembling and with a speedup heartbeat.
Thank God he doesn’t say anything about your poor state, he dusts his leather pants and stands up too, just now you notice how big he is in comparison to you, a fact you notice even more when he stands a breath away from you.
“Anyway I need to repay you, come to my hotel room”
“What?”
“Yes, I can offer you something to drink, why that sour expression? Don’t tell me you hoped for something more Häschen ”
“Shut up! I’ll go home-“ why is he looking at you with that knowing smile, just stop “ -alone! You are not welcome!”
“If you don’t want to come with me, at least give me your number” What an impudent guy! But… was it really worth acting high and mighty when deep down you also know you are interested?
“At maximum my Insta” You tell him, but the smirk on his face upon looking at your profile made you question all of the life choices that took you to this moment.
“Deal accepted Häschen. Can’t wait to take you out, maybe next time dress better than tonight though”
You want to scream at him, throw something, but you are just left there, mouth gasping like a fish, while Michael leaves the local, waving at you with his latex-clad hand, shaking his behind more like a happy dog than a bunny.
Who were you trying to fool? After all, you already missed his presence; ohh you are so intoxicated by Michael. For sure it won’t be easy to hide your crush when you’ll meet again.
“Do you also want a butt slice?” = link ik it's Italian only, but the expression is too good not to be spread around
Schatz = Treasure
(edit)Häschen = "little bunny"
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thekingthatwrites · 1 year
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Hiya, could I request some comfort Dave Strider x GN reader? Like reader comforting him after a nightmare? He deserves better than what life threw at him 😢
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Light in the Night
Summary: You've been with Dave for a few months now and something you noticed that you didn't realize before ... is that he sufferee from nightmares on the regular. Tonight just happened to be one of those nights.
Dave Strider x GN!Reader
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2568
Art by: @anoant
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡
His hand glided across the cold metal, the rough, rusted stairwell bar leading him to the roof. With each step that he took, his feet were heavy on the stairs, slamming down on thick sheets of steel, footsteps echoing through what seemed to be an empty stairwell. Though, no matter how many stairs he climbed, it was never enough, and no matter how many steps he took, he never tired of the climb. For some reason, he kept going, he couldn't stop himself from ascending this endless staircase, as his shaded eyes stared up at the darkness that set uneasily above him. A tense atmosphere sat around him, choking his lungs as if took the form of a thick smog that entered through his throat and clouded his chest. As he took multiple steps towards whatever goal his body was trying to get to, something came over him, an uneasiness that once more found him, as if it came in heavy waves before swallowing out on the shore of his mind.
His body moved before his mind could, and his head turned to allow his gaze to shift behind him, stopping in his tracks. As he stopped, his body turned with his eyes, keeping one hand on the railing of the stairs and staring down into … an abyss. The stairs he had conquered not seconds earlier had disappeared under his step, dissipating into the black smoke of a void, and even though he had stopped the sound of footsteps had not. For a moment… he was confused, he didn't understand how a noise could be formed if there was no one to form it… but that confusion was short-lived as glowing red eyes slowly appeared within the fog before him. He couldn't react. He didn't feel a thing as he looked at these red, beady eyes that barely looked like anything amongst the black. No fear, no anguish, no confusion formed in his head, it was nothing but a flat line of feeling as he stared back with his own red eyes. The shades that concealed them crumbled into dust, the only form of protection he could even consider to be a safety to him had been destroyed by the pure will of the nothing that sat before him.
He wouldn't react until something else formed before him, still a hazy blotch of colors, but as it came closer and closer to him, he realized it was a hand. The hand was a tan color, covered in light scars that littered across the palm of someone he couldn't help but recognize, even if there was no face to acknowledge before him. He found his hand moving forward, moving towards this hand made up of light particles, nothing that was physical, and interlocked his fingers with his older brother's. He stared up, up toward his supposed role model, the person he was supposed to look up to, metaphorically. But he felt nothing. Once again he found not a single emotion rise within him, a flame that seemed to have gone out long ago. It wasn't until this hand became corporeal, something that he could actually grasp onto, something that he could … feel. Rough callouses collided with his own, as he felt harsh skin that he knew all too well press against his hand. His gaze found its way towards the palm, following it to the arm it was connected to and then to the body and face of his brother. It was out of nowhere, when his heart began to race and a voice in his mind told him to run but his body wouldn't move. It stayed still, even as the unoccupied hand of his brother collided with his face, his palm pressing against his nose as the other slammed Dave's head down onto the stairs below.
For a moment, he was surrounded by darkness, but maybe that was because he had his eyes closed. As the lids that created this darkness raised up, heavy yet bearable, he stared at his surroundings. He was no longer in that stairwell, but on the roof itself, as warm colors of the sun setting devoured the sky. His sunglasses were back on, resting gently on the bridge of his nose, reflecting the colors that he was surrounded with. These oranges, pinks, and reds engulfed like a beautiful flame against the buildings of the city that he lived in and even his own dark skin. He looked at his palms, lighter than any part of his body, as it was supposed to be, and found his gaze shifting once again. However, as he moved, it still didn't feel as if he was doing anything, he felt like a passenger as someone else piloted this plane.
His brother stood in front of him once again, but this time around he wasn't any sort of fog or smoke, he was solid, completely head to toe. What was also solid was the sword he held in the palm of his hands, and as he found himself looking down, his own weapon was pressed into his own fingers. His grip tightened on the blade, the hilt of it to be exact. Standing in an offensive position, he got ready to attack. He pushed forward on the ground below him, dust kicking up from the bottom of his shoe as he launched toward his caretaker. He brought his sword back, then up, and then tried to swing it down at the one he was supposed to be training with, the one who stood there as if he was going to take it. But he stopped mid-air. He stopped when a blade was stabbed through his stomach, pain and tears welding up within him while his gaze followed his mind for the first time. He looked down at his newly formed wound, down to his brother who had thrusted the weapon into him.
"Pathetic."
A single word came from his sibling. With a quick flick of the other's wrist, he was pushed to the ground, off of the blade.
And then he was falling. The world crumbled around him as he lost his breath, the air escaping from his lungs. He fell into darkness, he fell for what felt like hours, watching as blood trickled up from his wound, being pushed out of him with his body pushing the opposite way.
And then a thud came from him as he landed on the ground…
Then Dave Strider woke up.
His heart pounded in his chest, beating harshly as a tightness formed in his core. He grasped at the shirt he wore on that evening, his hands tightening around the fabric as his eyes, his deep red eyes, pierced into the darkness that surrounded him. With his sunglasses off, once more his only manor of defense against what he considered to be vulnerability was stripped from him, just like his dream.
His eyes dashed around the room, paranoid as if … one of those damned puppets were watching him once more, and soon the red irises of his landed on the dark shades he kept on the bed side table. Grasping them quickly, he pushed them onto the bridge of his nose, feeling, at last, some sort of security. . .
Security. When he thought about safety, when he thought about comfort, his mind went … to you. His lover, the one who laid next to him right there in that bed. He hadn't noticed as you had awakened, groaning as you felt his frantic movements in the bed. You'd sit up, pushing your body from it's original position, laying down on the soft mattress, looking over to you boyfriend with tired eyes,
"Dave?"
You'd question, exhaustion dripping off you tongue. You had no idea why'd he be up, and as your eyes danced around, your gaze would land on the clock. 3:20 A.M. it read, and you would only become more confused as to why Dave would be awake at this hour. Your eyes landed back on the other as you watched as he just… stared at you. He kept his usual neutral expression on his features, and if it wasn't for the moonlight that poured through the window on the other side of the room, you wouldn't have realized that your lover was… crying. With your eyebrows raising with surprise, you'd sit up, completely this time around, scooting closer to Dave with a look of concern,
"Oh, Dave, what's the matter?"
You would find your hand moving to his shoulder, your other moving to his glasses taking them off his face, putting them aside. Most often than not, he would have recoiled at this action, but when it came to you, he didn't need that level of security that those glasses gave him. You watched as gentle tears rolled down his dark cheeks, streaking his skin and glossing over those ruby eyes of his, eyes you always admired. At first, with his mouth agape, he didn't seem to know what to say… words were hard for him when it came to his emotions. More often than not you knew him to be someone who just didn't know how to shut up, something you found to be charming about the boy, so when he was silent… it was almost sickening to your stomach. It worried you.
You moved your hand from his shoulder to his back, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. He let you do as you pleased, moving into the embrace with ease, as he wrapped his arms around your torso tightly. The touch was nice, especially for the boy.
"…shit i'm sorry. didn't mean to wake you with my … everything, i dunno. had some fucked up dream and… shit. it really fucked me up."
He finally got it out, in a quiet tone. Though with the quiet of the room, it wasn't hard to hear him as his voice was the only thing that occupied the space other than the sound of a fan form the corner of the room.
"Hey. It's okay, it's okay to be upset about dreams, the mind is fucked, and you cant control the shit you see when you sleep,"
You'd say, letting out a small breath, stifled and light. You'd begin to run your hands through his hair, moving the tips of your fingers through the curls with ease.
"Don't apologize about it, how about instead we talk about it. I always find it easier to calm down if I get it out of my head."
A suggestion that gave Dave a slight pause. He seemed to take a moment to think about it, not moving or saying anything. The only thing you could feel from him is the lowering and raising of his chest, trying to calm his breathing as he let out shaky breaths. Though, as a few moments seemed to pass, he'd nod, sitting up from where he leaned into you and would wipe the tears that formed in his eyes from his palm,
"yeah. let's see if talkin' it out will calm me the fuck down."
He'd say, letting out a breath from his nose, one that sounded almost amused, trying to lighten the mood. In response, you gave him a soft smile, gently moving a hand to his cheek as you'd caress his cheek.
He had the floor, and he knew that, he just … didn't know where to start. He'd run a hand over his hair, flattening it down for just a moment before it sprung up again. A heavy exhale escaped from his lips and he'd look away, over to the window,
"it… started in a staircase, the one back at my apartment. ya know back where i used to live before shit went down. the hell hole that was puppet ass and cal."
You'd nod in response, recognizing exactly where he was talking about. A place he had only talked about on the meteor with you and Karkat, and from what you heard to his brother Dirk as well, but a place you knew to be something of a prison to your boyfriend.
"you know what i'm talking about. but it was like. not the usual staircase i knew and hated, it was … never ending. i think i knew that too when i climbed it but i never seemed to like actually stop. until i suddenly turned around and realized that the stairs i had originally climbed had disappeared into just smoke. poof, gone, no where to be seen, nothing at all. and i saw my… bro. after my glasses turned to dust, he slammed my head into the stairs."
You listened intently, but when those last words left Dave's mouth, your eyes widened with shock and… even fear. He recognized this quickly in you, and soon would move his hand to yours. You both knew that this was you comforting him the most, but hell was Dave not gonna let you feel discouraged about all this either.
"yeah, i know, really fucked up."
He'd let out a chuckle, but soon the smile that went along with it was wiped from his lips. He wanted to brighten up the mood, and you knew you did as well, but this dream was deep, harsh… something that couldn't be laughed at it seemed.
"then i woke up, like in the dream, and i was on the roof. never thought i'd be there again but in the dream it seemed … normal. as if i hadn't ever left in the first place. me and my bro were doing our usual sparring and i ran at him and … he killed me, called me pathetic. which … listen by bro was a piece of shit asshole, but he … wouldn't do that. he wouldn't …"
Dave hesitated with his words, his eyebrows furrowing as he bit the inside of his cheek. You watched as he looked frustrated, confused… and you would soon pull him from that as you moved a hand across his cheek and into his hair, causing him to look at you.
"Well, if I know one thing for sure, it's that you're no longer there. You'll never really be there ever again, not in this reality. Maybe it'll haunt you while you sleep, but they are just that, just dreams. You're here, with me, with all of your friends and nothing will change that."
It wasn't hard, it seemed for you to put a smile on his face. Even if he was still recovering from the intensity that was that nightmare, he seemed to push it aside as he wrapped his arms around your waist and plant a kiss on your lips. You giggled as he did so, and he pulled you down to the bed, laying next to you as he cuddled up close.
"you're really fucking great."
He'd say, causing you to let out a small laugh,
"makin' me forget the worry that i have, all that shit out the window when i'm with you. like a fucking paper airplane thrown across a baseball stadium, moving through the wind like nobody's business. you got that worry all the way to the other side, hitting some kid in the face with it. all gone from me, no more in this head of mine."
He went on, like his normal self, and you couldn't help but giggle and grin at this fact. Leaning down, you'd plant a kiss on his forehead and simple words escaped from your lips.
"I'm glad I can comfort you, Dave."
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pessimysticrw · 6 months
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The Watcher DLC - Personal Dissection
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[SPOILERS AHEAD IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED BASE GAME/DLC] Oh goodness me, Videocult has decided to drop a nuke on my already rotted brain due to this game and now I shall dissect this yummy meal bit by bit like the picky eater I am (in a good way this time though). And yall are coming with me because I said so. Really, this is just a great place for me to get my thoughts in order... cough. A lot of this is speculation! If I can find anything confirmed, I will try and write about it when I can.
Steam DLC Description
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Let's start with the obvious- this basically confirms new creatures, regions, etc. This place seems to be in a completely different area than both the base game and Downpour slugcats, with new creatures to boot. I will go over the revealed regions/screenshots in more detail further down.
The descriptions states "the world beneath your feet cracks and crumbles", and while this could be linked to the Void Sea, the thumbnail art and font for the DLC's steam page and trailer depicts the Rot, and I am doubtful such an obvious detail would be thrown in there without it being present. Rot is only present where iterators are, and the only iterator we know of (in detail) to have the Rot is Five Pebbles, who got it by trying to rewrite himself. SRS gave him the pearl, but whoever wrote it is unknown, and I am highly doubtful it is 5P or SRS where this slugcat takes place in. It could be a pre-existing iterator like NSH/SOS (doubtful, but i suppose NSH would explain how Hunter got the rot if that is canon), a new one that also read the information that 5P and SRS did, or maybe even the one that originally wrote it that failed the experiment themself. This is a lot of speculation though and we will only really know for sure when more information is revealed. Take all of this with a grain of salt! I am just rambling possibilities.
New Regions
New regions are seen via screenshots on the DLC's Steam page. I will be attaching the screenshots here as well as what I speculate on what they may be/entail.
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Starting with these two regions here, as it seems to match the most with the thumbnail art. At first I thought it was the foggy region below, but upon closer inspection this wall-like region incorporates more blue colors, fog/clouds are present, and would make the most sense for the rot to be present if this is indeed an iterator's wall.
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Credits to shrinkshooter on Reddit for the enhanced image to the right.
This region looks reminiscent of 5P Memory Crypts, only in daylight. Whether this region serves a similar purpose to ancients is unknown. I considered the possibility of it being in a similar placement like 5P, but I am unsure if that would make sense due to the fact that 5P's shaded citadel is underneath his superstructure- hence why it is so dark in that region- when it clearly isn't here. (It could be completely separate from and not relating anything to Shaded Citadel entirely though!)
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Mysterious looking underground region filled with green water. It's water guys. It better be water. Please no more acid, I'm begging.
This area immediately made me think of Spearmaster's start of their campaign, or it could be something reminiscent to Moon's Submerged Superstructure. Drainage System/Undergrowth also comes to mind.
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Two desert-like regions are depicted here! While some speculation on the region on the right is it being a snow biome- I personally believe that this may be in face a dust/sand storm. Dust storms were planned during Metropolis' development in Downpour, but were scrapped in favor for the day/night cycle instead. Additionally, the snow particles present in Saint's campaign look drastically different compared to what is shown here. Additionally, there is Developer Commentary that talks about these dust storms for Metropolis. The dust storm effect looks different compared to what is shown, but it could have been possibly reworked to suit the region's look. Who knows though! Could just indeed be snow- but the entire area for this campaign looks to be generally warmer.
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This region looks reminiscent to Sky Islands from 5P. Something to note is the lack of nearby iterator cities. This could mean two things: this campaign takes place far into the future, with surrounding iterators having already collapsed. Or...
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It could be located on an desert island, right next to an ocean. Where all the water could have gone from this area will honestly be up to speculation until more information presents itself- however the seemingly coral-like structure to this region seems to point to this. It would also explain the lack of visible iterator cities in the background of the previous mentioned Sky Islands reminiscent region.
Additionally in one of the thumbnails for the DLC, water is present below the slugcat. (Then again, rain/water is present for all of em besides Saint eh?)
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Additional Notes
An echo-like effect is seen around the slugcat in the previously mentioned thumbnail, as well as in the ripples in the water around it
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boggsart · 4 months
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EXCUSE ME who told you you’re talking too much about your art?? Dude that’s the part I love most!! I like hearing about how you struggled to get it where you wanted, or how much the tools you’re working with frustrated you, but you got to a place you were happy with anyway.
I don’t know anything about 3d animation, and I know even less about game design. So it’s really important for me that you describe your process and how much work you had to do because it your work context. I’m sorry anybody made you feel like that wasn’t valuable. I’d argue that’s more valuable than the finished work itself!!
I always love seeing your posts pop up on my dash. And Wolffe and the 104th look absolutely fantastic in the newest one!! If you don’t mind me asking, what were some of the weird issues you ran into in the 104th’s one, and what makes them different issues from the ones you ran into before?
Thank you so much for all the kind words, but to be completely honest, they are kinda right. I think any artist can relate to the feeling of being too critical towards your own work. I tend to overexaggerate mistakes, or point out issues that aren't even really noticable to someone that knows little about this field. But at the same time, i always have a vision of how i'd like my current work to look like, and when i don't meet my own expectations (which i rarely do), that's when i start yapping. Well there were some minor ones, like noticing how some of the armors were not modeled accurately( like around the shoulder part of the chest piece, it's completely missing that part where it connects the front to the back, elbow pieces are way too big, helmets were also not modeled accurately, etc). I also completely messed up the rigging process, thus giving myself so much more work when animating. There are always certain body parts that just go into eachother (lower arm going into the upper arm when it's bent, feet going into the floor, hands going into the chest, etc) that could have been easily avoidable if i took the time to make a proper rig for my models.
There are also always some texturing mistakes, or wrongly placed focal points i notice once the final render is done. In this one, once all of the characters come up, and the camera starts zooming in on their faces, the focal point was placed too far, resulting in some parts of the helmets looking blurrier, than they should look. Since renders take a whole lot of time, i always try to fix this by putting the final renders into a 3rd party AI upscaling program, instead of going back to place it correctly, then re render it. That's probably a crappy workflow, but if this project wouldn't have a deadline that's approaching WAY TOO QUICKLY, and i wouldn't have a lot more stuff to model and animate, i would do the latter. At the same time, i probably should just pay more attention before hitting the render button lol. Also, the movements of the characters sometimes look way too stiff, and don't have that fluidity to them. I haven't been animating for long, so here's the reason for that, at the same time tho, i'm noticing some impovements when comparing the recent piece to my first animation. These are the problems i'm running into most of the time. In the recent one though, if you look closely, once Wolffe goes into his stance (after the commander Wolffe text disappeares) there's some weird black flickering going on around his chest/belly area, that for the love of God, i could not fix. Sometimes the particle system can cause some really interesting issues, that most of the time can be fixed by baking the dynamics. Since i did that (multiple times, deleting them, then re baking) and the issue persisted, i started to think either the shaders, or the particle system+volumetric fog combo was causing this problem. I also use a s*** ton of REALLY powerful lights, with the power constantly changing throughout the entire animation, that could also be causing this issue (i think?) I tried re-placing the cube that's making the volumetric fog, tried placing the lights and camera slightly elsewhere, but nothing worked, so i just decided to leave it as it is. The super slow mo parts are being made in the Non Linear Animation editor, which is... just as confusing as it sounds lol. Making the slow mo parts sometimes causes the blasters to disappear then reappear at the wrong time. The way grabbing the blasters then putting them away works is by having one blaster that's always parented to one hand, and one, that's always parented to the holster, and you change the visibility accordingly. (the moment the character pulls the blaster out of the holster, both blasters have to be perfectly alligned so the change in visibility doesn't have a weird jump in it) The visibility itself gets an action strip on its own, and it's hard to line them up correctly once you chopped up all your other strips and scaled them to make them slow motion. Because if the armature's action strip gets chopped up and scaled to make the movement slow motion, then everything else that has movement linked to it has to as well. So lights, the camera, the empty axes that the camera is parented to, and the blasters as well. This could be achieved by just placing the keyframes further apart from eachother, but i found this method to be somewhat simpler.
I'm probably doing this the wrong way though and could just place the keyframes accordingly without pushing the blaster action down to the NLA editor (cuz after all it's just visibility, not slow motion movement the blaster has). Though i have some really cool ideas with blasters in the upcoming animations, that would probably require to have them as NLA strips. Or maybe not, and everything i'm doing and talking about is bullshit, and isn't the way it should be done, and i really hope someone, that's in the industry doesn't read this and go "what the f is this woman talking about" lol. Basically everything about animating confuses the hell out of me, and i'm always doing stuff on the trial and error basis. So i hope one day i'll be able to learn it properly haha See, i'm yapping way too much after all. And i'm sorry for the long answer, but i'm really really passionate about this. And it actually feels so nice to know that there are people out there that care. 💖💖
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Seven '7ven' Blackwood McKinney
Voice Claim: (Jacob Elordi) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2r7wV5C9sg&ab_channel=WMagazine
Partner(s): None. Parents: Adrian Blackwood & Raven McKinney. Kids: Technically he has a bunch, but the only ones he really relates to is Sky & Imogen. Age: Immortal, but translates to mid-late 20's Birthday: 7th of January. Height: 185cm (6ft) Body type: Skinny, but with some muscle tone.     Eye color: Light blue-gray, with a tiny bit of brown around the iris. Classification: (Immortal) Demon. Known powers: Possession, shape shifting, Invisibility, healing by touch. Non-Corporeal Form/Ghostly form (being able to appear as a ghost) Evasion (The user can’t be tracked down, all the traces of their passing disappear or are ignored: fallen hair, blood, skin particles, etc. will dissipate into dust and no scent is given off, unless he wishes to. Telepaths find it extremely hard to find the Evader’s brainwaves.) Telepathy (The power to mentally receive and/or transmit information.)
About: ~ Melancholic, Restless, Brooding, Lazy, Sarcastic, Emotional, Irresponsible, Anti-Social, Distracted, Imaginative, Observant, Reflective, Fearless, Honest, Reckless, Strange, Clumsy, Stubborn, Disorganized, And Mischievous. ~ Has big hands for his body ~ Sexuality Omnisexual (Attracted equally to all human beings (men, women, transexuals, etc.) … A person who can be sexually attracted to anyone and anything, from men/women/everything in … and also non-human animals and inanimate objects) ~ Has thick black hair ~ Has a few black tattoos on various body parts, also two fairly hidden. ~ Half Irish. ~ Has a bit of a British accent. ~ Can Shapeshift to a black fox. ~ Very Anti-Social, doesn't like meeting new people. ~ Does a lot of drugs. ~ Parties a lot. ~ People often call him grumpy, but he really isn't, he's just often stuck in his own world, and quite brooding. ~ Smells like Opium. ~ Dislikes modern pop music. ~ Terrible cook. ~ Likes to hang out with two of his sisters, the rest of his rather large sibling flock he barely stays in contact with. ~ Has an okay relationship to both his parents on the other hand. ~ Doesn't talk much. ~ Loves to stay at home, listening to loud music, not talking to anyone for days. ~ Sleeps a lot. ~ Plays a lot of video games, suck at it. ~ Has a scar on his lip, he got beaten up when he was a very young kid, by some bully, who lived to regret it. ~ Has several piercings in his ears. ~ Very much a rebel. Doesn’t like authorities. ~ Feels everything quite intense. ~ Loves night time, the moon, drugs, pancakes, black eyeshadow, kittens, being left alone, fluffy pillows, sleeping, pizza, minty food, strawberry marshmallows, cold mornings, Synth wave, fog and rain. ~ Always wears some sort of baggy clothes. ~ Really hard to read. Seven's tag Seven's house/home Handwriting/ask answer pic:
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One song to describe him: Labyrinth - Still Don't Know My name
Personal play list: 1. Jefferson Airplane - White Rabbit 2. Cream - White Room 3. Thompson Twins - Hold Me Now 4. The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band - Suppose They Give A War And No One Comes 5. Bronski Beat - Small Town Boy 6. MGMT - Little Dark Age 7. The Cure - Just Like Heaven 8. David Bowie - Ashes To Ashes 9. The Doors - End Of The Night 10. Tame Impala - New Person Same Old Mistakes 11. Pixies - Where Is My Mind 12. Kavinsky - Nightcall 13. Joy Division - Love Will Tear Us Apart 14. The Cure - A Forest 15. Duran Duran - Save A Prayer
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therandosfandos · 9 months
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I got real bored and made this!!! <3
Summary: After Bender gets pushed off Robot Santa's sleigh and falls into ruined New New York, the crew has to find him
When they do, Benders a mess
The snow was awful. The wind blows heavily as they trudged along through it with winter jackets, mittens, scarves and other garments to keep warm. Usually, they wouldn't be out on the night Robot Santa destroys the town, it was risky and dangerous. However, there was a certain robot in need of their help.
"Do you guys see him yet!?" Fry yelled to the others, worried about his boyfriend. He knew the robot had a significant amount of things to be repaired. He just didn't know how bad it was and that thought scared him.
"No, we will keep looking though!" Amy yells back through the hazy fog of Christmas night. To think this wouldn't have happened if they just delivered the letters to Santa as they were supposed to do so. Mistakes were made, but that didn't mean they couldn't fix them in the future.
Leela looked in the sewers as she has easy access to them. Hermes and Zoidberg were paired together which the bureaucrat was absolutely not happy with.
Professor Farnsworth was asleep inside, so he couldn't really help at all. Amy looked out on the streets and Fry searched in alleyways. No trace of the manbot was seen. They thought about giving up, but Fry refused to allow that to happen.
Then, they all heard a loud thunk. Zoidberg pointed out implants in the snow shaped like Benders circular footcups. Everyone instantly followed the lobster to see where it led. Red and black paint stained into the snow, the spray paint must be peeling off. Fry rushed in front of the crew, he was desperate. That's when they found him.
Bender was shivering, curled up into a tiny ball, his mouthplate opening and closing like a human mouth to simulate chattering. His metal body was picking up frost particles and he seemed to be dented, burned, broken and shot multiple times. There was a heavy amount of major injuries. They needed to get that paint off him now, before something else happens to the poor robot.
Amy took the hat off and threw it. Fry leans down and picks up the frozen bending unit with a bit of a struggle. Bender did weigh about five hundred pounds and was quite heavy but he could handle it just fine. It's that his fingers were picking up frostbite by just touching Benders metal body. The orange haired idiot dealt with it though.
They managed to make it back to Planet Express quite easily. Robot Santa luckily wasn't in sight and didn't see them. As they locked the building down with the bullet proof shutters and closed the fire place entrance with hassle, Bender just made little whimpering noises. Fry frowned softly as he sets up the poor freezing bot on the couch. He places his thumb on Benders metal cheek and does a tucking motion a few times, the bots mouthplate still chattering but he was calming down. They needed to get him warmed up quickly.
"Hey, bud...hey, it's okay" Fry says gently to his boyfriend as he kisses Benders head, "you're safe, no one's gonna hurt you again, we're gonna get that paint off of you and get you warm and fixed up" the human says to the shivering unit.
It felt awful to see Bender of all people like this, beaten and bruised and barely able to do anything. Bender wasn't one to be seen so weak and helpless, but here he was in front of everyone's eyes to see.
Leela had gotten Farnsworth up and the old man came over with a toolbox, which the robot tensed up at. Fry rubbed Benders arm tube to calm the manbot down, whispering small things of praise, "you're okay" or "you'll do so good".
It wasn't easy as Bender flinched and jumped, swinging his fists as a reaction whenever the scientist touches his body. It was fair in all honesty, the man did shoot him twice tonight. Fry keeps kissing his boyfriend and giving him more compliments to keep him in control. It wasn't long before the repairs were over.
They then all helped to wash the paint off gently, Fry snapped at anyone who was too rough with Bender. Soon enough, Benders shiny metal body was back.
Hermes went and got a big comfortable blanket, wrapping it around Benders shoulder pieces and his arms as Fry snuggles up next to him. Leela hands Bender a warmed up beer, knowing the poor bot must be starving for fuel and he was. The bending unit guzzles down his drink greedily, gulping it all down in one single go. Fry kisses his boyfriends cheek again, "hey, slow down, buddy", he says with a gentle tone of voice. Bender does what the human asks, "thanks...meatbag"
Good, Bender was speaking, his voice box wasn't frozen over. Everyone sits on the couch and huddles up against each other. Bender felt finally comfy enough to close his optics and shut his visor as he leaned his head into Fry's chest. The human smiles softly and hugs the robot back, holding him tenderly and being careful, "you're safe now, baby, you won't ever have to do that again..."
The crew sat there for the rest of the nightz refusing to let Bender go or out of their sights. For once in his life, Bender felt the crew all be there for him, just caring for the bot and recognizing what he went through.
Needless to say, Christmas morning was a whole lot better this time around.
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quixoticanarchy · 5 months
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WHAT do you mean human radiation experiments I shouldn't be surprised by anything of this nature anymore but I sure haven't seen those words in that order before wtf
Ahh yeah what I mean is uh as the US was developing the atomic bomb during WWII they decided they needed human experimental data to know what kind of health impacts the plutonium and uranium radiation exposure was having on their scientists, so they arranged for a bunch of people to be given plutonium to see what happened
And then after WWII they were still interested in health impacts of radiation but also in the impacts of radiological weapons (corollary to chemical and biological weapons) so they kept on testing the effects of radiation on people, by like.. spraying "tracer" clouds with radioactive particles in Minneapolis and St Louis, releasing radiation from the Hanford nuclear site, doing open air tests of radiological weapons, giving radioactive oatmeal to developmentally disabled kids, giving radioactive iron to pregnant patients, and other things I'm probably forgetting. All of this had analogues and collaborative projects with other countries too but the US examples are just the ones I know most details about. And all of this was done without informing people of what they were being exposed to ofc
(the books I've been reading on this are The Plutonium Files by Welsome and Behind the Fog by Martino-Taylor btw)
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shippingfangirl013 · 2 years
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Stranger Things S5 Conglomerate Twelvegate Theory (Part 1):
Because I have no clue what to call this and it’s basically a massive convergence of all the gates/theories into one?
@chirpsythismorning and I had to solve Twelvegate to figure out the rest and… I think we stumbled across the answer just off of rambling… and playing ping-pong with ideas…
This also heavily pulls from Stranger Things parallels to Back to The Future Parts I & II (because re-watching my favorite trilogy helped me to figure out the timeline for Stranger Things).
If you do NOT want spoilers for S5, I suggest you do not read any further.
Because… this is… a doozy. And likely has some MAJOR spoilers, we’re just good at playing detective and dedicating a little too much time to this show.
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First, we have to go back to season 1. . .
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So, when we first meet the original four kids in the Party, they’re playing D&D. Will knows that he has to roll a 13 or higher here. Will is under the steps, crawling to find the d20.
This is the ORIGINAL timeline. We don’t know much more about the timeline other than seeing 2 minutes into the show. Will is still 12 years old and has a watch on, but we never get a close-up of the watch.
We’ve got a pizza one box, and two regular Coca-Cola cans… okay? Keep that in mind, it’s important later on.
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When the Tv flickers, that’s Vecna using his power, likely to alter memories or the timeline/reality itself.
Right after this instance?
We get this scene:
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Now, why would Will go from knowing that a 13 counts and is high enough to take out the Demogorgon, to asking if a 7 is high enough? If a 7 counts, right after the TV flickers?
Also, notice that Will is standing framed with the two coke cans and pizza one box behind him. That yellow and blue pen is important too.
(I play D&D, most times, anything below a 13 or 14 is a bad roll and you take a lot of damage. It all depends on if your Dungeon Master wants to be forgiving or not. )
So, the first 3 minutes of season 1, is the original timeline (Timeline A) differentiating/being altered; I say this because, we don’t know anything about that point in time aside from our main Party playing D&D in Mike’s basement.
A key factor here that Jo mentioned while we were talking, is that we don’t see Hopper, Joyce, Lonnie, or Jonathan during the scene in Mike’s basement. We only see Will, Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and briefly, Karen.
Timeline A is altered at 8:15 pm on November 6, 1983.
Each point after the TV flickers is a part of Timeline B. But I think Will actually cast protection on the extended party; El, Max, Lucas, Dustin, Mike, Jonathan, Joyce, Hopper, possibly Murray, and maybe on the others’ families.
But Timeline B was Henry altering the timeline, creating a new reality for our cast of characters. (Putting them in a silly little play, perhaps?) Henry stole Will's powers when Will was kidnapped; but what powers could Will have that Henry needs to re-shape the world?
Time-altering powers and creation powers.
Here's the thing, Henry can manipulate what others see, he can manipulate and alter memories, and it is very likely he was able to take Will's time-altering powers while Will was trapped in the Upside Down. Henry is easily able to use time travel powers to his advantage.
But. . . Henry CAN'T create something out of nothing; as evidenced by his using others' memories to make them see what they fear. He can re-shape the particles that made up the Mind Flayer, however, Henry cannot create to the extent that Will (an artist!) is able to. This is how Will is able to do things like cast Fog Cloud in S2. In S1, Will's True Sight is used.
(I'll come back to this later, because this is literally going to be like a 10-part theory, which may literally just be 100% spoilers)
Timeline B is an altered reality; Henry gave our cast of characters new roles to play. Not just anyone though, primarily: Joyce, Jonathan, Will, El, Hopper, Terry, Sarah, and Diane.
(You may be wondering why I mentioned Sarah, Diane, and Terry; I'll get to that in a bit, if not in this one, then in part 2.)
Joyce is the ex-wife of Lonnie Byers and she is Will and Jonathan's mom. Hopper is the small-town police chief who moved back to Hawkins after his divorce from Diane, and the loss of his daughter Sarah. Terry Ives is El's mama, and Eleven is the girl with powers that escaped from Hawkins Lab. Basically, the events of S1 equate to an altered timeline, or therefore, are the repercussions of an altered timeline.
Timeline A still exists after the original event that alters Timeline A to create the altered reality in Timeline B.
The event that alters Timeline A is an occurrence on the day of Will and El's birth. Henry swaps the families of Joyce and Hopper's twins.
Henry went back in time after taking Will's powers in S1, to alter the timeline, by swapping El and Will at birth in the hospital, so that Will and El (011 & 012) grew up together in the lab, never knowing that they are twins. Will grows up with Lonnie Byers as his father, El grows up in the lab, and Hopper lives in New York for seven years and has a family with Diane. Henry alters Terry Ives' memories and scrambles the signals in her brain via Brenner.
In this altered timeline that is Timeline B, El was taken by the lab at birth, and El's Mama is Terry Ives. Will's mom stays the same, but his father (and Jonathan's father) is changed to Lonnie Byers.
In Timeline A, El was kidnapped first in 1976, and Will was taken second in 1978.
In 1976, there was a drowning at Sattler's Quarry. Seven years prior to 1983; now, for a while, I thought that might be Will, but that didn't add up.
El was taken first at five years old, by the lab. . . on her first day of kindergarten. . . which is why Mike found Will alone and scared on the swing set. El's disappearance was covered up as a drowning in the quarry in 1976. This is why El is paralleled with Maria from Frankenstein (1931) in season 1, with Nancy's pink dress, because Maria drowns in a lake after trying to play a game with Frankenstein's monster.
Now, Will was also kidnapped and taken to the lab in Timeline A, but this gets a little harder to figure out how Will got there in the first place. I think Lonnie has something to do with it, because there are one too many instances of Will being paired with trunks, and we see Jonathan check for Will in Lonnie's Oldsmobile in season 1. However, I'm not 100% certain about that and I will update this if I find anything that changes my thoughts on that.
I know that Will had to have been taken to the lab around 1978, at the age of 7, if he and El were not taken at the same time in 1976. This means, that Will's kidnapping was covered up as a death, (maybe a death from a fatal illness?) that was then altered by a character with the ability to fabricate fake memories. . . shifting the death of a son, to that of a daughter. Sarah's death is the cover-up for Will being taken.
Jonathan doesn't remember much of this either, he would have been 8 years old when El was kidnapped, and 10 years old when Will was kidnapped; if we go off of El being taken at the age of 5 and Will being taken at the age of 7.
1978 is an important year in Timeline A. This is because in Timeline B, it is the year that:
Lonnie took Jonathan hunting at 10 years old
Terry was electrocuted/had her signals scrambled
Sarah dies
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Another thing that I need to address, is Hopper's role in Timeline B.
In 1983, when Hopper calls Diane, he’s wearing his blue flannel… just like how Max’s mom wore a blue flannel in S4…
(I have seen almost every character in the Byers-Hopper family in a BLUE FLANNEL, the only one I haven’t found in a blue flannel (without a jacket over it) is Jonathan.)
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But, we see Hopper calling Diane, and then we hear a baby crying in the background. We assume that after 7 years she has moved on… but what if this woman was never Hopper’s “Diane” anyways?
We KNOW that the phones are important. We also know that the lab/Russian government are always listening in on phone calls- since season 1! So, this “Diane” woman that Hopper called was someone from the lab or someone trying to keep the truth from spreading.
Because, I went back to S3, and found this:
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This is the only line that says [Diane] in the closed captions. I’ve looked through a few other shots, and the only other shot similar to this is when Hopper is watching Magnum P.I. and a little text comes up saying that the show is playing. They usually do not specify which character is talking in the tv shows with brackets - it just shows the dialogue on screen.
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Hopper got incredibly drunk that evening, but the point I’m making here, is that Joyce is Diane.
Hopper’s wife, Diane.
(He never says ex-wife in season 4. He says: “My wife Diane, she wanted a baby,” )
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So. . . This means that Henry has had a hand in every little kettle he could get his hands on after he nabbed Will’s time powers.
I doubt that Hopper going to Vietnam was influenced by Henry in any way, but I know that everything else we are shown is influenced by him.
I was trying to piece this all together, and after going through and making a timeline, I think I’ve got how it all lays out - at the very least, I know where the timeline that was altered. At most, I think I have a large surprise that will come up in S5 pinned down.
My focus when pinning the timeline down, was actually on Hopper and Jonathan.
In S1, Joyce tells Lonnie that Jonathan has wanted to go to NYU since he was 6 years old. Now, Jonathan would have been 6 years old in 1974, because he was born in 1968.
I couldn’t figure out why Jonathan would want to go to NYU unless:
- his parent(s) went there / one of his parents went there / something happened to make him want to go to NYU.
NYU is such a specific school, and it is mentioned once in S1, then rarely brought up again. Even in S4, Jonathan was just planning to go to the same college as Nancy, if he was accepted.
It made me think about how Hopper was in NY for seven years. . . And it took me a while to figure this out.
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So, Hopper goes off to fight in the Vietnam War when he is 18. The Vietnam War goes on from 1955-1975. This means that Hopper was in Vietnam possibly from 1960 to 1970 at the latest. However, according to the ST Wiki, Hopper met Diane in 1965. . . (I am taking this with a grain of salt), because if this is the case, then Hopper could have been in Vietnam at any point in time between 1960 (when he was 18) to 1970.
But if you do the math from when Sarah was born, if Hopper met Diane in 1965 (and they began dating that year), and Sarah was born in 1971, then Hopper only knew Diane for five years before Sarah was born. Now, we know that Sarah dies in 1978, from cancer. . . and from that 1983 phone call to Diane (counting backward 7 years), Hopper would have been in NY from 1976 to 1983. . .
Another thing is, in Season 1, Hopper says that he has been in Hawkins for 4 years from the point that we meet him in 1983.
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1983 - 4 is 1979 -> the year of the Hawkins Lab Massacre. . . so, why would Hopper (as a police officer) not know about that? I know, the lab is secretive and whatnot, but you would assume in an emergency situation, they might call in backup.
1979 is also the year that Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin had their Elder Tree campaign. . . (and I'm not quite sure if Will was there depending on the timeline and how things may have worked out).
And then I started to question just how much inspiration could have been taken from Back To The Future?
The Answer? Quite a bit of inspiration was taken from Back to The Future.
Marty's family is made up of his parents (George & Lorraine), his older brother (Dave), his older sister (Linda), and himself (Marty).
This is apparently an important enough movie for the Stranger Things plot that it is heavily referenced with wardrobes and it is even shown on the big screen in S3. (There is more significance here, but I'll explore that in a later part).
At the beginning of the scripting process for Back to The Future Part II, the creators were thinking of having the roles of Marty McFly Jr. and Marlene McFly set as Twins.
And in S4 of ST, we can see quite a bit of twin imagery throughout the season, in reference to Will and El. (again, I will post more in a later analysis, I don't want this to get too long).
If we go off of the basis that Henry/Vecna/001 stole Will's time powers, then we can assume that the second timeline that was generated from the changing of a fixed point in time (an origin event - in this case), changed other things throughout the seasons in Stranger Things.
Think about it, Henry could have easily gone back in time and replaced Hopper (being Jonathan, Will, and El's father) with Lonnie.
He could have manipulated Joyce, Hopper, and Jonathan's memories if the memories were STILL left AFTER the timeline was altered, making them forget that their family of 5 had ever existed in the first place. Swapped Will and El at birth, putting them in the lab or arranging for them to be taken by Brenner, and then, he could have later helped Will escape the lab massacre. . .
One last thing to address;
The Mind Flayer and why Will was possessed in the first place. . .
If Henry cannot create, then he needs Will alive to utilize that power. Henry may not have been strong enough on his own to manipulate Will into doing his bidding, but working with the Mind Flayer to get what he wants?
Therefore activating Will as the spy, taking El out of the way by using a distraction (making her focus on Max? Knowing that her weakness is the people she cares about - because he's already done this once before with the Lab Massacre by killing the other lab kids?), and getting what he wants?
The Mind Flayer literally looks like the strings attached to a hand for a wooden string puppet. . . (think Pinocchio if you need a visual)
The Mind Flayer possessed Will so that Henry/Vecna/001 could manipulate and bend the final puzzle piece to his will.
(and that's why, I think in S5, we're going in with a bang... because I think that El and Will have been Vecna'd in S4; they have been falling into Henry's traps since S1.) (I'll explain more of this in Part 2 or 3 because again, this is super complex and took me about a month or longer to compile all of the evidence)
So, in short, Henry/Vecna/001 truly has been moving our characters on the board like chess pieces. . .
(this is going to have like 3 parts explaining the theory itself and then like 20 posts of evidence all linked under a masterlist once I have the time to set that up.)
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Note
Does everyone have semblance and aura in your au?
Every human and every Faunus has an aura - the single physically verifiable idea behind consciousness. Think of "aura" as another part of the human body.
Having it and unlocking/using it are two different concepts, however - it takes training to use it as an active barrier. Not necessarily just huntsman training, mind you - as an example, Taiyang already had an Aura and semblance as a traveling pugilist before Ozpin even convinced him to enroll in Beacon.
Your average civilian still has an Aura surrounding them, but it's malleable, and anything can pass through it with zero effort - it's like an invisible fog. It still responds to injuries and trauma, participates in body functions and healing, reflects the user's mental state, and so on. It's primary function is to protect the person with most of it's behavior focusing on that, trained or not.
It takes discipline, training, and practice to manage it and shape it. Since aura (passive) and semblance(active) are manifestations of a person's identity and consciousness, with active use and self-improvement, uses for aura can become more intricate over the years. Someone like Ozpin, who has lived for over a thousand years, can likely do a lot more with his -as shown by his fight with Cinder in V3 (I am going with the idea that nothing he did there is his semblance).
Even the trained use of Aura has its limits - some weapons and technology are capable of outright bypassing it - as shown by what happens with yang in V3.
The Semblance, on the other hand, is trickier - it takes specific triggers to first manifest, which might be completely random. Since Semblances are unique, the triggers for them are also distinct - sometimes the first use happens accidentally, or it's reliant on specific emotions, or it takes an active mindset and belief to trigger (for example, Yang's Semblance first activated protecting Ruby from bullies in Patch, Ruby's activated instinctively out of stress when she got electrocuted messing with a power outlet, while for Jaune it took figuring out what he wants from life to trigger).
And, since Semblance represents a person's identity, the conditions of its use might change over the years. Personal growth equals change in identity equals evolution in one's Semblance. And even beyond growth, Semblance responds to all kinds of experiences - it's not unusual for it to adapt to psychological and physical trauma the same way our brain can adapt to injury. Imagine there is a sniper whose Semblance helps them focus, aim, and calculate trajectory. If the sniper were to be blinded in battle, it wouldn't be unusual for, with a bit of work and psychological recovery, his Semblance to adapt and shift into something else to reflect the change in mindset as the person adapted to their new situation. Semblance reacts and adapts according to its user's growth, not other way around (TLDR: the situation like how writers handled Ironwood's semblance is functionally impossible).
There are no passive Semblances, and most Semblances are positive in use unless the person's identity is extremely self-destructive, and, even then, Semblances still tend to take the form of something beneficial to their user as an additional element to the instinct of self-preservation every living being is born with.
Since Aura is a real and tangible part of human body, it is subject to its own set of issues - notable one being the concept of Quickfire - a fatal condition that leads to gradual deterioration of one's aura and death.
There's no proof that animals have an aura naturally, but they seem capable of generating an aura - as proven by the situation with Zwei.
Creatures of Grimm don't have an Aura or a semblance, but one can theorize that the behavior of Grimm particles that hold their forms together is a rudimentary attempt to mimic the concept.
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aniwahstan · 2 months
Text
Prom Shopping: Jegulus, Wolfstar, Rosekiller
From the fic: Where the two creeks meet
“It’s horrid,” Sirius says as he steps out from behind a velvet curtain.
Regulus has to actively hold back the chuckle trying to escape at the too short, too tight, too powder blue dress robes Sirius has tried to squeeze himself into.
“I think it’s perfect,” Barty says, stepping out in all white and ruffles. He does a little spin, to which Evan nods approvingly despite the entire outfit landing somewhere between outlandish and abrasive to the eyes.
“Remus!” Sirius shouts.
A disgruntled moan is the only response from the divided curtain next to Sirius. “Come on, let’s see it then!” Sirius continues to shout, tapping his foot impatiently.
Remus steps out in a bright yellow number, flared trousers, but a fitted cut that does nice things to his chest and his thighs. Sirius stares at his boyfriend, slowly scanning him from head to toe and back up again.
“Bloody hell,” Sirius says, a small whistle following. “Of course you look dashing on your first go.”
“You look -” Remus tries, but Sirius pins him with a look that screams not to finish the thought.
Remus throws his hands up, returning swiftly to his dressing area. Sirius wastes no time, pulling the curtain back. “I’ll help you undress,” he says as he pulls the curtain closed.
“Of course he will,” James says, appearing from thin air at Regulus’ size. “Did you find anything?”
Regulus nods, gesturing to the bag in his hand. James moves for it, but Regulus is quick enough to snatch it away.
“Oh, is it a surprise?” James’ eyebrows bounce with enthusiasm at the thought.
Regulus smiles shyly, letting James believe his own wandering ideas. He’d rather James believe it’s a cheeky little game than the reality that he’s never liked the way he looks in dress robes. Too thin and rigid and stiff.
When it’s James’ turn to reluctantly come out from behind the curtain, his sleek black trousers and matching jacket with a shiny grey tie sitting perfectly on every curve, there’s a long beat of silence.
It’s Peter who breaks it first, a whispered curse falling from his mouth.
“Fit, mate!” Sirius hollers, clapping his hands. Clapping . Like James just achieved something above being unfairly stunning in dress robes.
Of all the people to choose to love, Regulus had to pick the beauty king. The one everyone wants to look at and gawk at. The magnet of all eyes, of all attention.
Regulus feels his neck twitch in a strange motion, suddenly and rough, like a chill moving through his spine.
Love?
The word rolls through his mind, then sits on the tip of his tongue. As fast as when Barty crashed his car through the fence of the farm, all of Regulus’ walls explode into tiny particles, and the realization that he’s in love with this sunny, blatantly fit specimen of a man flows into his thoughts. Aggressively. Unwantedly. Horribly.
He’d once overheard his professor talking of heart palpitations. How his heart couldn’t quite find its healthy beat. It makes such clear sense as his own heart stumbles and skips to an uneven rhythm that sounds eerily like the timbre of James Potter’s laugh.
“Earth to Regulus Black,” he hears through the fog of his realization.
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peninkwrites · 2 years
Text
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
In which Ranboo’s limbo is drifting through his own memories just as he loses them.
crossposted to ao3
~
Ranboo hadn’t heard much from Tommy about what being dead was like, but the look in his eyes was enough keep Ranboo nervous, but if this is it, it really isn’t all that bad.
He’s home, isn’t he?  He’s at home.  He’s in his basement, staring at rows of sugarcane.  It’s peaceful.
Ranboo also wasn’t expecting any visitors.  He’s dead, isn’t he?  He doesn’t know any dead people, but Ranboo hears glass shatter and turns around sharply, a little shout of surprise slipping out as he turns to see Philza Minecraft smashing glass bottles on his floor.  That’s not really too startling.  Far more disorienting, is Ranboo sees them.  As in himself, watching Philza do so.  Phil finishes his destruction and turns back to Ranboo– as in, other Ranboo, the one staring at him in mild surprise as well.  Phil types something on his comm, gives Ranboo a nod, and leaves.
Ranboo remembers what he wrote, because that’s what this is.  It’s a memory.  Phil had interrupted his potential experiments and destroyed all the bottles of water, and had messaged him you’re safe now before disappearing once more.  Phil had been kind.  He’d worried Ranboo was going to hurt himself.  Ranboo remembers it.
“Oh, well, isn’t this some cruel irony?” Ranboo says dryly.  He’s not expecting a reply.  Not even his little particles with their irritating whispers and fussing had followed him here.  Other Ranboo is doing just that, actually.  Continuing to explain something or another to the particles.  “Alive, I never got to keep my memories, but here…” Ranboo scans the walls of his home.  He’s not homesick, not for here, but he is longing.  “...I guess it’s kinda fair?  I deserved my memories at some point.  Took too long.”
Ranboo sighs.  He watches his other self climb the ladder, and as he does, the room blurs and distorts.  He cannot remember a room he was no longer in.  Ranboo decides to follow, climbing the ladder.  His front room is empty, so he goes to his front door.  He opens his front door at the Arctic Commune, steps through it, and shuts a different front door behind him, in a place which brings another ache to his chest.  New L’Manberg.  Intact.  The walls are up, and he can see himself, talking to Tubbo, on the platform across from his old house.  Ranboo– current Ranboo, dead Ranboo– approaches.  He hears their conversation.
“–Thank you, minutes man.  I think Big Q and I will have to discuss things further.  I know you want to help, but this part…” Tubbo’s eyes wander, looking right through his dead future husband to over the wall on the hillside where Quackity and Fundy are in conversation.  “I think we’ll have to manage it ourselves.”
“Okay,” Ranboo hears his past-self reply softly.  “I know you’ll… I know you’ll do what’s best.”
Current-Ranboo winces.  He doesn’t want to hear the rest of this.  He knows what this will lead to.  Tommy exiled.  Ranboo heads for the little tunnel dug in the wall, having to bend down to squeeze through it.  He heads up the hill toward Quackity and Fundy.
He can’t hear them.
“Hello?” Ranboo tries to speak to them.  They don’t acknowledge him, and Ranboo of course can’t hear them because he wasn’t here for this part.  He saw them over the hill, but he never heard what they said.  “Right…” Ranboo sighs.  He turns back around and watches himself and Tubbo leave, heading up the Prime path.  Ranboo moves to follow them, but he stops.  Where they’re going, it’s like things just fuzz out, like a white fog is shrouding anything past the tunnel, actually more than just in the tunnel, it’s like it’s inching closer.
“Don’t– What’re you– Don’t go in there!” Ranboo runs toward himself and Tubbo, a panic he can’t quite understand tight in his chest, but he isn’t fast enough.  The two of them disappear into the fog and Ranboo tries, he does, he runs after them, and then there is just nothing.
Ranboo realizes he can’t remember what he and Tubbo had talked about outside his house.  He can’t remember where they had gone or what had come of it.
Oh.
Ranboo understands, he understands that Tommy was right, Limbo is not peace, it is hell.
Ranboo has died, and now he gets to watch himself forget.
Ranboo presses his palms over his eyes, he doesn’t want to cry.  If tears burn him even now he doesn’t know what he’ll do, but he doesn’t cry yet, because instead he hears someone else crying.
“Michael,” Ranboo jolts up, he realizes he’s sitting at the dining table in Tubbo’s cabin.  “Michael!” Ranboo stands.  It’s night, the windows outside dark, the room lit by the fire and a lantern.
“Whoa, it’s okay, Bossman,” Tubbo gives him a look, smiling, a gentle hand on his arm.  “I’ll go check on him.”
“T-Tubbo… you can… you can see me?” Ranboo says hoarsely.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Tubbo doesn’t answer his question, he just climbs the ladder to Michael’s room.
“Tubbo– Tubbo, y-you touched my arm–” Ranboo begins to climb the ladder after him.
He emerges from the trapdoor and it is day, a different day.  Michael is awake and resolutely not crying as he runs to greet his father, little wooden sword in hand.
“Michael,” Ranboo scoops him up with desperation.  “I’m here, buddy, I’ve got you–” He says softly, holding him close.
“Look who decided to join us,” Tubbo teases him, sitting on the floor next to a pile of building blocks he and Michael had been working on.
“Tubbo, I–” Ranboo doesn’t know what to say.  He doesn’t know if Tubbo can really hear him or not.
“Were you on a mining trip?” Tubbo asks more carefully now.  He isn’t looking Ranboo in the eye, but he is looking at him intently.
Ranboo remembers this.  It was their not-argument.  Where Tubbo knew he was keeping secrets and he didn’t push so Ranboo just said:
“Yeah,” Ranboo repeats his once living words with something not quite like remorse.  “Mining trip.  I’ve got to–” Ranboo stops, a lump in his throat.  “I’ve got to pay Foolish somehow, right?”
Tubbo nods, just as he had before, and he doesn’t ask questions.  He does say one thing, though.  Ranboo repeats it at the same time, remembering it well.  This he had put in his memory book, but he hadn’t needed to.  This one had stuck.
“I worry about you, you know.”
Ranboo remembers his reply.  He wishes he’d said something different, but he repeats it all the same.
“How’s… How’s the project with Jack going?  In the warehouse?”
And Tubbo puts up his walls, just like Ranboo knew he would.  They would continue to keep things from one another.  Tubbo shrugs.  “Fine.  I’d rather keep work at work and home at home, though, so why don’t you join us?” Tubbo nods to Michael still in Ranboo’s arms.
“Yeah, sure,” Ranboo sets Michael down, the toddler running back over to Tubbo, sitting down heavily, considering with the utmost care where to put the next block in the structure Tubbo had been building with him.  Ranboo does what he’s supposed to.  He sits down between the two of them.  He plays along.  The rest of the day had been good, it had been happy, but those questions had remained unanswered.  They would continue to be unanswered.  Part of him just wants to stay quiet, to let himself relive this moment kindly.
“Tubbo, I’m… I’m kind of scared right now, I don’t know what’s going to happen, but…” Ranboo doesn’t know if trying to change things will do anything, but he can’t stop himself from trying.  Ranboo fiddles with one of Michael’s blocks.  “I don’t want to–” He looks up.
Tubbo is no longer beside him.
“Tubbo?!” Ranboo scrambles to his feet.  It is then he realizes he cannot see Michael.  “No– No this one was important, I can’t lose this one, I can’t–”
The white light reflecting on the snow outside grows brighter, and brighter, and brighter, and then nothing.  Ranboo sees fire.  And he sees Tommy.
“Oh no,” Ranboo says weakly.
“Oh fuckfuckfuck– shit!” Tommy scrambles to put parts of it out, but it’s too late.  The mushroom house is burning.
“It’s… it’s too late, Tommy.  And I am… I am so sorry for what comes next.”
“Come on, man, let’s just– Let’s just get out of here–” Tommy doesn’t acknowledge what he said, just grabs his arm and pulls him until he starts moving.  Ranboo runs.
This one fades faster now.  Maybe it’s because Ranboo isn’t fighting it.  He doesn’t want to remember his part in Tommy’s suffering.
Ranboo is still running.  This time he’s running from something.  Or maybe to something.  He knows he’s on his way to his panic room.  He’s trying to remember why he went there this time.  What had he been running away from?
“Coward… coward, why were you such a coward?!” Ranboo shouts his frustrations, about to turn around, to try to run back, to at least pretend to face what he had been running from, but then something nags at him, something curious.
That voice.  The voice that had sounded like Dream, that had been so elusive and irritating and just convincing enough to make Ranboo afraid of himself.
If it was just in his head, would it be here?
Ranboo walks more slowly now, cautiously.  He approaches that little divot under the water.  He’s wearing his armor.  The water doesn’t burn as he returns to his self-entombment.  He shivers.  Why did he do this to himself?  Ranboo stares at the letters on the wall, you are fine.
He was a fool.  A desperate, scared fool, but nonetheless.
“What were you running from this time, huh?” Ranboo scans the walls, waiting for that awful voice.  There is no reply.  Ranboo remembers the voice, so shouldn’t it be in his memory?  Maybe the voice didn’t come this time.
Ranboo has his inventory.  He has a pickaxe.  He breaks through the block he know has a chest behind it.
There isn’t a chest.
There is white light.
What was in the chest?
Ranboo stares, wide-eyed, before he turns and runs.  He makes it out into the water, he surfaces, and the sky is white.  The hills and the beach are narrowing under just white.
Ranboo doesn’t know what he was running from.  He doesn’t know why he came out here.  He doesn’t know–
“Ranboo?” Tubbo asks.  “You still with me, bossman?”
Ranboo refocuses on Tubbo across from him.  Ranboo looks down.  They’re at the kitchen island.  Ranboo is cutting up golden carrots.  Tubbo is peeling potatoes.
“Y-Yeah, I’m still with you,” Ranboo says.  “Can you hear me?”
Tubbo gives him a peculiar look.  “Um, yeah I can hear you.  I’m not totally deaf.”
“Okay.  Okay–” Ranboo tries to piece it together.  He doesn’t know what to do, if he can do anything.  “I don’t want to lose you.”
Tubbo stares at him, puzzled.  “Okay,” he laughs, unsure, uneasy, “then don’t.”
Then don’t.
“Where’s Michael?” Ranboo scans the cabin.
“Still down for his nap.  Dinner won’t be ready for another hour, though.”
Ranboo goes to the ladder, climbing it quickly.
He opens the trapdoor to white light.
“No, no no no– We have to go–” Ranboo grabs Tubbo’s hand.  “We’ll– We’ll get Michael when we can find him, just run–” 
“What’re you– Where the hell are we going, Ranboo?!” Tubbo keeps pace, even as he’s startled.
“Just run!” Ranboo keeps dragging him along as the white of the snow seems to spread.  He runs for the water bridge through the mountain, it’s all he can think of.
“Ranboo, wait, your armor!” Tubbo shouts at him, but it’s too late.  Ranboo’s skin doesn’t burn.  The water doesn’t hurt and he keeps holding Tubbo’s hand until suddenly he is no longer under water, he’s standing outside of a meeting room in the Holy Lands.  Tubbo is in his presidential suit again.
“We’re… we’re here for the meeting,” Tubbo stares at Ranboo like he’s trying to piece something together.
“Tubbo, no, we’re– We’re not here for a meeting, okay?” Ranboo puts his hands on Tubbo’s shoulders, scared if he lets go of him Tubbo will disappear.  “Do you remember where we were before?  We were in the cabin, and…” Ranboo can’t remember what they had been doing.
“Yeah, yeah I remember, you were scared for Michael,” Tubbo nods, looking worried.
“Oh thank god, you remember,” Ranboo feels weak with relief.  “Something is happening that I– I can’t explain, but something is eating my memories and I can move through them somehow–”
“Right, because you’re dead.”
“W-What?” Ranboo falters.  Tubbo looks unphased, serious and concerned, but not like he’s said anything shocking.
“You’re dead.  And you’re falling apart, and now you’re running from it.”
“Y-Yeah, I… I didn’t realize you knew,” Ranboo says hoarsely.
Tubbo shrugs, staring around at the holy lands.  “Well, I’m part of your mind, so if you know, I know,” he looks back at his husband, or his future husband rather.  “So what do you want to do?”
Ranboo tries to focus.  “I want to– We have to find Michael.”
Tubbo nods, serious and calculating, and he doesn’t act any differently to how Ranboo would imagine he would, which makes sense, if he thinks about it.
“Okay, you’re running through your memories, and they’re disappearing, what do we do if you run out?” Tubbo says.
Ranboo tries to bottle his despair.  “I don’t– I don’t know.”
“Well, we’ve got to start thinking then, don’t we?” Tubbo nods, determined.  “It’s like you said, Ranboo.  You don’t want to lose me,” Tubbo puts his hand over Ranboo’s on his shoulder, staring up at him, just below his eyeline.  “Then don’t.”
Ranboo doesn’t know if it’s naive to put his faith in this echo of his husband, but he has nothing else.  “W-We keep running.  Come on, we– We find Michael, we take him too.”
Tubbo nods.  He holds Ranboo’s hand, and Ranboo runs down the prime path, through the archway, and emerges in a quarry.  Or not a quarry, a construction sight.  He can see Foolish’s towering figure working away.  Tubbo is beside him in his Snowchester shirt and vest.  He’s holding a bow.
“Oh, I remember this!  I kept almost shooting Foolish so you had to pay him more,” Tubbo says brightly, lining up a shot.
“Yeah, I had to pay him a lot,” Ranboo goes to stop him, but he also knows he hadn’t then and likely wouldn’t be able to now.  He’s right.  
The arrow flies, landing a few inches to Foolish’s right.
Foolish turns around with an indignant huff.  “That’s it!  I quit!” He begins to storm off, as he had.  At this point Ranboo should go over and offer him more gold.  Ranboo doesn’t really see much point.
“You’re supposed to go after him,” Tubbo says pointedly.
“We never used that mansion anyway,” Ranboo says.  He tries to remember when he last went to go see Michael at this time, if he could maybe head there now.
“Yeah!” Tubbo frowns.  “Why is that, d’you think?”
“I don’t– I don’t know,” Ranboo says distractedly.  He’s paranoid.  He’s not sure if the gleaming snow is just snow or if the edges are beginning to blur here too.  “We should keep moving.”
“Yeah, I mean, you pick the mindscape, bossman,” Tubbo shrugs.  “You know what I thought the move would’ve been a bit of a hassle, but really, I think it was too much space for the three of us.”
“What?” Ranboo has stopped paying attention.
“The mansion!”
“Oh, yeah– Maybe,” Ranboo takes Tubbo’s hand again.  He starts walking.
“You know, I bet you could just think your way to another memory.  Walking is so slow.”
“You sound just like him,” Ranboo murmurs.
Tubbo jogs to catch up with his stride.  “That’s because as far as you’re concerned, I am him, Ranboo.  I am me, actually.”
“Right,” Ranboo glances down at him and when he looks up, they’re on the Nether roof.
“Whoa, that’s so weird!” Tubbo says excitedly.  “It just changes, man, that’s insane–”
“So, if you’re my version of Tubbo, you’re basically just a part of me, right?  So why bother being Tubbo at all?” Ranboo asks grimly, continuing his trek.  He has no idea what memory this is, where they had been going.
“I barely understood what you said just there.  I think that’s a you type question, Ranboo.  I do think it makes sense, though!  Why wouldn’t you want me here with you?” Tubbo says.
Ranboo feels an ache in his chest.  “Yeah, I mean, you’re… you’re right,” Ranboo doesn’t know what to do.  He doesn’t know what happens when he runs out of memories.  He’s so scared of what will happen when he lets go of Tubbo’s hand.
“Because you don’t want to lose me,” Tubbo nods.  “And why would you, I’m a catch,” he laughs.
“Yeah– Oh, damnit–” Ranboo can’t take it anymore, panic building in his chest, he stops and pulls Tubbo into a hug.  “I love you.  I love you so much and I’m sorry– I can’t–”
Tubbo hugs back.  It feels like him.  It’s Tubbo hugging him right now, and Ranboo doesn’t care if it’s a memory, this is his Tubbo.  “We’re alright, bossman.  I’m not leaving you by choice, and I’d like to see the afterlife try to make me fucking move, got it?”  Tubbo buries his face in Ranboo’s chest like he always did.  “Love you too.”
Ranboo takes a shaky breath.  He tries to pull himself together. “Come on, we– We still need to find Michael,” Ranboo says.
“Let’s go get our boy,” Tubbo nods, still holding Ranboo’s hand.  He starts walking.
“Let me try to…” Ranboo keeps pace, thinking it over.  “If I think about a memory, maybe I can take us there.”
“Okay.  Well, you’re not great at remembering things, bossman,” Tubbo says.
“Well, apparently I’m better than I thought, because I remember all this!” Ranboo gestures furiously to the Nether roof.  “Okay, okay, let me think– Let me think.”
The first memory he finds is not a happy one.
He’s still holding Tubbo’s hand, and they’re standing outside of the prison.
“Oh.  This is when…” Ranboo falters.
“He can’t be dead,” Tubbo says it automatically.
Ranboo jumps, as it’s like Sam has just manifested from Tubbo’s words.
“Dream… Dream beat him to death,” Sam sounds as horrified and wounded as Ranboo remembers.  Obviously.
“You’re going to kill me one day, Sam.  I expected better,” Ranboo says bitterly.
“I’m so sorry,” Sam’s pitiful monologue could apply to either thing, his abandoning of Tommy, his murder of Ranboo.
“And you kidnapped our fucking child!” Tubbo looks about to throw himself at Sam.
Ranboo can see no reason to stop him.  Tubbo doesn’t get the chance.  He swings at Sam and then Sam is gone.
“What the fuck–” Tubbo almost falls over.  Sam isn’t gone entirely, he’s walking quickly back to the prison.  “Oh I remember this bit– Not gonna fucking miss this time!” Tubbo chases Sam.  He suddenly has his crossbow.  Tubbo misses.  “Fuck.”
“You didn’t hit him then, you’re not gonna hit him now,” Ranboo says wearily.  “Oh my god, he took Michael– Out there in the actual, proper living world, he has our son, oh god–” Ranboo feels like tearing his own hair out.  He feels tears burning his cheeks.  Of course now they burn.
“Hey, hey calm down, it’s okay, Ranboo.  It’s going to be okay.  Michael will be fine,” Tubbo is quick to reassure him.
“H-How can you say that?!  You can’t know you’re as stuck here as I am!” Ranboo shouts to the unforgiving sky.
“I know because we’re stuck here, but I’m not,” Tubbo says fiercely.
“What’re you–” Ranboo struggles, feeling breathless.  “What’re you talking about?”
“Ranboo, real-me, the one out there and very much alive, I will get Michael back.  I will protect him.  You know I will because I know it too,” Tubbo actually grabs him by his tie, forcing him to focus up.  “Michael is going to be fine.”
Ranboo nods, terror fading.  “T-Thank you,” he sighs.  “I didn’t know what else to do.  I couldn’t fight back, because he would’ve hurt him, and I–  I don’t know.”
“You could’ve told me,” Tubbo says quietly, staring at Ranboo’s chest, where they both know one day a sword will cut through him.  Had cut through him.  “You could have told me you needed help.  I would’ve helped you.”
“I didn’t know I needed help until he arrested me, and by then there was nothing I could–”
“You know that’s not true,” Tubbo says sharply.  “You know it’s not.  There’s so much you never told me and if you had, if we– if we both had been better, you disappearing for days on end would have scared me.  It should have fucking scared me Ranboo, but, and maybe I’m assuming now, but it didn’t.  Because you’d disappear on me for days at a time.”
Ranboo’s defense feels childish, but he can’t help it.  “And you kept things from me, the nukes, did you think I wouldn’t find out about those?  You took risks, you made plans–”
“I know I did,” Tubbo says, still firm, but gentle too.  So very him.  “Maybe I thought I was keeping you safe.  And I can’t know for sure, but I’d like to think I regretted it.  I think I’d be sorry, after all this.  Sorry we loved each other but not enough to trust each other.”
Ranboo nods.  Crying doesn’t hurt anymore.  Tubbo reaches up and brushes the tear from his cheek.
“How’re you… how do you have memories of water where it doesn’t burn?” Tubbo, always the scientist.
Ranboo laughs weakly.  “I don’t really know.”
“Come on,” Tubbo smiles, patting his cheek before letting go.  “I want to find our boy.  Where are we going next?”
The ground shakes underneath them, Ranboo almost falls over.  They both look up to the sky.  They know what this is.  TNT rains from above, the air is clogged with smoke, and people are screaming.  They’re toward the end of it now.  Nothing left to save.
“Right.  You were there for doomsday,” Tubbo says wearily.  “You helped us prepare, I reckon you might’ve fought with us.”  Tubbo pauses, their conversation interrupted by more explosions.
“We should– We should go–” Ranboo grabs Tubbo’s arm, pulling him toward the edge of the chasm.
“Yeah,” Tubbo laughs bitterly.  “You did.”
“What?” Ranboo is more focused on the explosions.
“You left.  You went with them, didn’t you?  After,” Tubbo says, staring up at the grid of obsidian, at the godlike figures watching them.
“I…” Ranboo stares up at them.  He feels like he should feel guilty.  He doesn’t.
“I mean, I know you’re not gonna deny it,” Tubbo says coldly.  “I know, you know.  You left with them.  And you stayed with them.  And you don’t find that wrong.”
“But you do,” Ranboo says.
Tubbo stares at something in the crater below, “I mean, who knows, but you seem to think I do.”
“Maybe,” Ranboo follows his gaze.  Ranboo is unsettled to see another Tubbo down in the crater.  He stands beside Tommy in the wreckage.  They were together.  Ranboo wonders if that means another version of himself is somewhere else around here.  He isn’t sure, sometimes he is himself, as if standing in the place of his memory’s body, but other times, it was different.  He doesn’t know if it matters.  He’s not really set on acting out his memories right now.
“I wish this one would fade faster,” Ranboo murmurs.
“Of course you do,” Tubbo scoffs.
“Aren’t you supposed to be me, sort of?” Ranboo frowns.  “Why would you feel differently?”
“I dunno, you figure it out.  I’m not you, I’m your Tubbo, dipshit.  So, I have Tubbo thoughts.  And I think sometimes you treat forgetting like running away,” Tubbo says pointedly.
“And I think sometimes you’d treat my memory like a free confessional,” Ranboo says coldly.
And then Doomsday is gone, and they’re standing at the very top of the cookie outpost, staring at the glowing lights of Las Nevadas in the distance.
“Did you know I got executed?” Tubbo says.  He says it exactly like he had that night.  And Ranboo feels the same surprise like a punch to the chest.
“Are we doing this?  Acting it out?” Ranboo says, less critical, more pleading.
“No,” Tubbo shrugs, expression mild, unaffected, just as he had been then.  “You could always ask me if I’m alright.  I think you did that bit well.”
Ranboo sighs.  “Are you alright?”
Tubbo smiles.  “Yeah!  Yeah, a bit burnt from the fireworks, but other than that,” that casual tone fades.  “Do you think if we’d kept talking like this it would’ve been different?”
“Talking like what?  You didn’t– You didn't tell me anything.  I mean, you told me what happened, but not how you actually were a-and you– You only did it because you thought I’d forget,” Ranboo doesn’t like being angry, but he can’t help it.  He wishes Tubbo had been honest with him, really honest, before he had died.
Tubbo shrugs.  “I wish I were sorry.  Maybe I am, I dunno.”
“Yeah.  I don’t know either,” Ranboo murmurs, staring out at the distant cityscape.  It’s even more of a facade than it had been in life.
“I know,” Tubbo says teasingly, bumping his shoulder against Ranboo’s arm.  It’s all he can reach.
They both watch as the Las Nevadas skyline is eaten by white light.  This time Ranboo doesn’t try to run, but he holds onto Tubbo’s hand a little tighter.  The world returns, still partially white.  They’re outside the cabin in Snowchester.
“Michael!” Ranboo bolts up, about to run inside to get him, but instead he’s nailed in the back of the head by a snowball.  He hears Tommy’s familiar cackle.  Ranboo turns around, Michael is on Tubbo’s shoulders, and Tommy is gearing up a second snowball for launch.
Tubbo laughs.  “He’s fine, Ranboo!  I’ve got him.  You might want to watch out,” he nods back to Tommy.
Ranboo ducks, the next snowball barely missing him.
“Oh, you’re in for it!” Ranboo grabs a handful of snow.  Snow took longer to sting.  He would be fine for the afternoon, and later today he would be dry and warm by the fire with his family.  This had been a good day.  One of the best.  Some time after Tommy had been revived, but before Wilbur's revival.  When for a brief time things had gotten better.
Ranboo loses himself, he loses himself in them, in his family and fun and a memory that should have been longer.  Ranboo finds himself breathless, laying on his back, Tommy currently running around with Michael on his back, shouting about their victory and using words maybe Ranboo would prefer his toddler didn’t hear.  Tubbo lays down beside him.
“This one’s gonna fade too.  Can’t be long now,” Tubbo says.
“I know,” Ranboo sighs.
“What do we do?”
Ranboo looks over at him, Tubbo’s eyes bright, his cheeks flushed.  There’s snow dusting his eyelashes.  He looks at Tubbo, not in the eye, but just at him.  He doesn’t know if he can commit that face to memory, but he wants to try.  He reaches out a hand, cupping Tubbo’s cheek, thumb gently brushing across his skin.  “Enjoy it.”
Tubbo smiles, it’s not a happy smile, because of course he understands.  “Okay,” he says softly.
And then Ranboo is dealing with a face full of snow and Tubbo is laughing, that delighted, wheezing giggle.  Ranboo wants to get lost that too.
And then it’s gone.  Ranboo wishes he could have held onto it, even just a memory, even just a little longer, but the love was there.  He didn’t let that go.  Ranboo is standing in the doorway, Tubbo is sitting at the dining table, and Michael is in his lap, half asleep.
“Which one is this?” Tubbo asks.  He stands, cradling Michael, letting him drowse against his shoulder.  “Could be any of them, right?  Another day together, that’s sort of alright, isn’t it?”
Ranboo knows better.  And he knows Tubbo does too, but he appreciates the effort.  “This is where I leave,” Ranboo says softly.
Tubbo’s expressions softens into something without blame, even if it still hurts.  “Is it?”
“I… I have everything on me that I know Sam takes after he arrests me.  Or maybe it’s…” Ranboo shrugs helplessly, smiling almost like an apology.  “Maybe it’s just a feeling?  I don’t know.  But I’m gonna…” Ranboo turns around, facing the snow outside, the afternoon slowly turning to evening.  It could’ve been any other day.  Ranboo wishes it was.  “I’m gonna walk out that door.”  If he keeps walking, surely they’ll end up in another memory, they’ll keep running until there’s nothing left.  And he knows how this one ends.  He doesn’t see why he should pretend otherwise.
“Yeah, you’re gonna walk out that door, and you’re going to be gone for days, that’s what you do.  And then Sam is going to arrest you, and then you will sit in there and I won’t know I was supposed to save you until I can’t fucking save you anymore,” Tubbo’s voice tremors.  Michael stays asleep.  He’d stayed asleep the whole time.  Ranboo remembers.  The last time he ever saw his son, Michael had been asleep.  He’d kissed his forehead and left.  And some time between now and the day Ranboo knows he will die, Michael gets kidnapped.  And Ranboo knows his living Tubbo will save him, but he won't know anything else.  Tubbo can’t stop himself, pushing on almost like an accusation.  “Why didn’t you ever ask me for help?”
Ranboo shrugs, still something like an apology.  “Why didn’t you?”
Tubbo scoffs.  “We don’t have the answer to that one, do we?  But we do have the answer for you.  So why didn’t you?”
Ranboo steps forward, as he had before, on his last day with his family.  He kisses Michael’s forehead.  Then he kisses Tubbo’s.  He almost speaks, he almost answers Tubbo’s question.
“You don’t have to explain,” Tubbo says, anger fading.  “I know.”
Ranboo looks outside, at the flurries coming down and the long journey back to his own house in the commune, a long journey alone.  Ranboo gets one step outside.  Just one.
“What if you stayed?” Tubbo says.
“What?” Ranboo stops.
Tubbo steps up closer, cradling Michael with one arm, the other taking Ranboo’s hand.  “I don’t care if it’s a memory, I don’t care if you know where this is gonna go, what if–” Tubbo stops, his thumb gently rubbing circles in Ranboo’s palm.  “What if this time, you stay, Ranboo?”
Ranboo stares out at the snow.  He almost says what will it change?  But he doesn’t want to do that.  He knows that he can’t go back and change the past, but Tubbo is asking him to stay.  That means more than whatever the future holds.  Ranboo stares out at the snow, at the dusk, at the white of the snow that he knows will soon turn to a light to eat away all of this.  He looks back at Tubbo, and Michael, and the warmth of the cabin and an evening together he knows he never saw.
What if this time you stay?
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ruleofexception · 1 year
Text
Ruined (Life Eternal)
A continuation of this.
_____
Humans are fond of the saying ‘when life gives you lemons, make lemonade’. 
As a demon, it’s a phrase he’s never really understood because unless you’re comfortable drinking straight acid powerful enough to permanently pucker even Satan’s lips, lemonade requires a few more ingredients than just the juice of a handful of lemons. 
However, as life has just handed him a mountain of lemons all while laughing in his face, he understands the desire to drink acid and take his chances. Turn this misfortune into something that may or may not kill him.
Standing in the tiny, grimy bathroom of the apartment that is meant to be his, arms folded over his chest and lips being worked between sharp teeth, he hisses, quiet so she does not hear. “Fuck.” 
The corpse in the bathtub – purple and distended to the point where he dare not touch it, out of fear it’ll explode and paint the walls in a putrid shower of rotted guts – stares at him with one fogged over, dead eye; the other socket, empty and caved in. In hindsight, probably should have taken a note from the monkey’s books and buried him beneath some petunias weeks ago, but-
But he’s just not had a chance to. Between answering Lucy’s calls and trying to avoid being caught by the beautiful angel who’s currently sitting in the shithole that is now his living room, he’s had hardly a moment to himself. If he could have seen his own future and known how difficult it would be to keep that wingless beauty from learning him to be a demon and not the human she so desperately wishes to save, perhaps he’d have talked himself out of it. Convinced himself that it wasn’t worth it.
Though, realistically, that’s not likely. 
He’s never once passed up the opportunity for a bit of fun; even if it did mean some extra work on the side. And, even based on the limited interactions they’ve shared thus far, his gut’s telling him that this is almost certainly going to be the most fun he’s had in centuries. It may even end up being a contender with the nun-orgy.
Nose wrinkling, he leans a little closer and snarls at the body turning to mush in the bathtub, “I swear to Satan, if I’m found out because of you and your God-awful stench, before I’m able to have any fun with that angel out there, I will find you in the pits of Hell and make it my sole responsibility to torture you until the end of time.”
“Uhm, Obi?” There’s the faintest of knocks upon the bathroom door; Shirayuki clears her throat, then asks with far more concern in her tone than should be possible, “Are you alright in there?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” He says, stealing a quick and panicked glance towards the thin particle board separating them. Silently, and with as much grace as he can muster, he offers up pleas to Lucy and the rest of the denizens of Hell that Shirayuki doesn’t take it upon herself to just barge in here, with the intent of making sure he’s not lying or doing something sketchy.
“You’re sure?” A worried whisper slips in to caress him; like her lips have been pressed right up against the shell of his ear instead of the filthy door frame as she coos, “Do you need me to get anything for you?”
Unbidden, he shivers. Ichor thrums hotly in his veins.
Given that it’s only been a handful of weeks since she meddled her way into his life, mistook him for a human and promised that she would save him from the pits of Hell itself, it’s far too easy to envision how she must look right now.
The soft white dress she wears, hugging her in a way that’s likely considered sinful or distasteful amongst the feathered-fucks she’s trying to impress; but that has the demon in him wanting to rip it to shreds with his teeth. Her intelligent emerald gaze, wide with concern, while pale, delicate fingers sprawl out across the door; fingernails working to carve half moons into the surface, as she presses her ear closer; as if she’s trying to find a heartbeat in the depths of his hollow chest, instead of merely waiting for him to respond.
What he wouldn’t give, to get her into that position.
To hold her, with her red hair splashed out across his chest like blood. The freckles that dance along the bridge of her nose, so near that he can count each one, as green – the same colour as the leaves of the trees he’s fond of hiding amongst – study him; a mix of horror and understanding blossoming in their depths as she finally realizes he’s not the human she thought him to be, but has always been one of the monsters she was taught to hate.
Inhaling deeply – pushing the fantasy down into the shadows and ignoring the ache in his gut – the sharp gold eyes that stare back at him from the mirror harbour an expression he’s never worn before. One that’s akin to the excitement of a possession, but something that’s not quite so visceral or raw. It’s an expression that starts somewhere in his belly, and burns all the way through. Like hellfire, loose beneath his skin.
Another deep breath. A slow exhale, to keep his words from trembling, “Nope. I’m fine. Be right there.” 
Flushing the toilet to keep up appearances and letting the sink run, he yanks the shower curtain back into place, covering up the body but not the smell. Tomorrow, he’ll dispose of the corpse he’s pretending to be, but today, he needs to be with her. Keep the lie alive, as he leads her further down the path to ruin.
Wiping sweaty palms on his thighs, it takes great restraint not to send his foot through the curtain to kick in the man’s face, and he growls a final warning under his breath, “Do not fuck this up for me, monkey.” 
One last look in the mirror – mindlessly tugging at and trying to fix a stray hair that’s decided to cling to his forehead – he takes a deep and steadying breath, before plastering a smile on his face, and throwing open the bathroom door to greet the angel waiting on the other side.
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