#or fog particles or just anything

[stonebutchery]

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.

[dyli-dadi3]

Kinktober

Day three: Aphrodisiacs

Unlike other airborne pathogens that make you sick, this one just makes you incredibly horny for a man you met today. Thankfully he's incredibly horny for you, too. Spores not included.

Summary: After inhaling spores, you become overwhelmed with desire. Who else better to scratch that itch deep inside of you than an attractive man who you've been fighting off zombies with? Tags: Smut (p in v), aphrodisiac, begging, mentions of death

“It’s going to be okay, agent. I got you…” Leon mumbled, holding onto your arm as he bent to your level. “I’m going to find an antidote or something.” He said, biting his lip as he watched your sweat bead on your brow, your eyes sipping closed as your parted lips let a pained groan slip out.

You led Leon to a cathedral, promising it would explain the horrible things happening to the United States, hell, the world. “I can’t explain… it’s just better to show it.” You had promised him, and he followed. He had doubts about you; if you had anything to do with it, he wasn’t letting his guard down anytime soon. He had dealt with betrayal enough times to be cautious around a pretty face.

The next moments went in a blur; fighting off the horde that prevented the two of you from entering the damn building in the first place, the strange trials the two of you had to complete to open the secret passageway to the basement of the cathedral, and then the rather unfortunate luck of a bioweapon emerging from the fog, threatening the lives of everyone in the vicinity. The two of you had managed to keep most of the refugees safe. Can’t help that some people don’t heed the lucid warning of “Stay back! This thing’s dangerous!” 

Don’t change the fact that Leon still mourns the loss of every citizen, every agent, or soldier who lost their lives to this unfair world.

Doesn’t mean that you weren’t hurt. Or, at least, that’s what he thinks is wrong with you. That… thing sprayed you with some sort of blue spore when you delivered the final shotgun bullet in point blank range, the particles being immediately inhaled into your lungs. Leon watched in horror as you coughed and sputtered, stumbling out of the cloud and towards him. “Are you okay?” He asked you, watching as your hand fanned the air around you. 

“Y-Yeah, i-it’s… fine…” You started, eyes widening as your knees grew weak and the start of something formed in the bottom of your gut. The feeling was strange, but it wasn't stopping you from pushing on—no need to worry Agent Kennedy!

Well, by golly, he was pretty worried now.

The two of you had gotten to an underground lab and you had immediately collapsed onto the floor littered with some fancy medical paper filled to the brim with notes from various experiments. He was sitting with you, hand on your forehead only to pull back in shock at the burning temperature of your smooth skin. 

“You're burning up…” Leon pointed out softly, only to get a whimper from you in return. “I know that. I feel like I'm wearing a sweater and fuzzy socks in the Sahara.” You huffed, only to cover your face. Your tummy turned, a ball of molten lava warming your core and addling your mind.

“Sorry, Agent Kennedy, I just feel all fuzzy and hot… I know that's not an excuse to talk back to my superior.” You apologized, and Leon just rolled his eyes. 

“Don't worry about that formality bullshit. Let’s just focus on getting you better.” Leon started, moving to stand up when your hand grasped him.

“No!” You gasped, the sudden feeling of despair and emptiness filling the pit of your stomach was alarming. As if the very thought of him leaving you left your pussy weeping.

Wait.

What?

By all means, you thought Leon was the sexiest, most attractive man you knew. The way he cared for everyone was admirable and wasn't lost on you. His kindness pulled you in like a magnet, but you stopped yourself from getting too delusional. After all, he'd hate you once he figured out why you led him to the cathedral.

But you were shocked by the sudden desire to throw yourself into his arms like a crying child to his mommy. You felt like crying.

This was embarrassing.

“I just me-mean that I don't want you to leave me… -Fuck.” You sputtered, hand flying back to your side as you flushed in embarrassment. You spiraled as your mind conjured up all the demeaning things Leon was probably thinking about your pathetic display of dependency.

Leon's eyes widened at your little moment, more concerned than offended. He needed to do something. You were glistening in drops of sweat, and now you were starting to lose coherency and your temperament. He saw how you squinted as if your brain struggled to form thoughts and even then, they were still words he would never hear you say in the right state of mind.  

He had no idea of the arousal that was wreaking havoc in your lower stomach, the inhuman mess that was beginning to wet your underwear. To him, you just looked like you had a fever.

To you, it was an overwhelming desire to have the man in front of you. You felt like some sort of bitch in heat as your mind drowned in need. Your body was taught as you desperately fought the urge to pounce on your higher-up.

A whine slipped past your trembling lips and Leon froze. What was that supposed to mean? He leaned in, trying to figure out why you were so squirmy. He wanted to find some sort of medicine for you. You guys were in a lab for heaven’s sake. Probably the same lab that made that abomination of a BOW straight out of a trypophobe’s nightmare, but you were adamant about him staying.

The proximity made your head spin, his scent invading your senses as your will dissolved like cotton candy in water.

“Please!” You begged, grabbing his shoulders and hanging your head in mortification as to what you had just said.

“What do you want me to do?” Leon strained, getting more and more worried by the second. His hands hovered over your waist, trying to keep some air of professionalism and respect despite your wandering hands.

Okay, that was confusing. Leon watched in concern as your hands slid down his arms.

You didn't say a word, too embarrassed to voice your need, so you just whimpered and squeezed your thighs. 

The relief was instant. 

A moan slipped past your lips as your thighs shook. If just this little movement was enough to get you like this, you were stuck imagining what it would feel like if you gave in, if he was the only thing allowing you respite. The thought brought on another wave of heat, and you struggled to imagine how you were going to get through this without losing the ever-growing battle of fighting your arousal. 

You already gave up on the struggle to not touch him, and look at you now. Your face hung in embarrassment as your hands felt the firm musculature of his arms, body leaning in to share his warmth, to smell his scent. Your mind swirled with a myriad of impure thoughts, and you nearly came when Leon finally touched you.

“What’s wrong?” Leon finally asked after he softly placed a hand on the small of your back, as if he’d hurt you, his eyes widening as he saw you shiver. You were making noises that he was trying to ignore, to rationalize… Something to explain why you were making the sounds that went straight to his dick despite his best efforts.

“It hurts.” You whimpered, practically sobbing through the first words you had said in a while. You were practically on top of him now, your arms had circled back up to wrap around his neck. His compliance made you needy, trying to milk this horse for all he’s worth. 

God, with how horny you were, milking him dry seemed necessary.

“What hurts, sweet girl?” He said softly, the lines of professionalism blurring like chalk on a rainy day. The walls he tried to put up throughout your brief partnership were virtually nonexistent. The sight of you in pain hurt him, too, and with the way you were clinging onto him like he was damn Mosiah himself, how could he not give you anything you wanted? Anything to help you feel better.

Call it the hero complex, but he couldn’t shake the thought that he was the reason you were like this. He didn’t shield you properly, turned to help steady a survivor instead of keeping his eyes on you. God, he never wanted to keep his eyes off of you, Raccoon City fucked up his underdeveloped brain and rewired it to be a fiend for women who could handle a gun. 

That name had you gasping, clambering onto his lap as you pressed your nose into his neck. Your lips brushed his skin as you breathed him in, gripping him so tightly that your knuckles turned white. “Everything…I need you, Agent Kenedy.” You begged, tentatively pressing a kiss to the column of his throat.

You had him groaning as he settled you down on his lap. “Is that right?” He whispered, mirroring your actions to the top of your head. The smell of blood and gunpowder was strong, but if he focused hard enough, he could make out the notes of your shampoo. 

“Mhm…” You slurred, panting into his skin as you pressed yourself to his bulge. Your eyes rolled back as you practically convulsed on his lap, so pent up that even that could bring you to ecstasy. You begged and begged for more as you began rubbing against him. 

Leon hissed at you and started moving, grabbing your hips to help you. “So needy, huh?” He said with a sigh, watching as you acted so desperately. He said he’d do anything to help, and if making you cum was the answer, then he was buckling up for a long ride. It’s the law, he thinks with a chuckle.

He watched as your face began to scrunch up. “Aww, need more, princess?” His voice dripped like honey. He didn’t need you to speak, he saw how you tried to nod through your haze. That was all the confirmation he needed to turn you around on his lap, unzipping your jeans and slipping a hand past the fabric of your underwear. 

“Fuck… You’re dripping, honey.” Leon moaned, wasting no time to finger fuck your tight cunt. “She’s just beggin’ for it…” He whispered, scissoring you. “Beggin' for my thick cock to stuff her full.” He rambled, working himself into a frenzy as he saw you babbling. So turned on you couldn’t even properly respond. 

You just nodded, moaning in hopes that he could tell how ready you were for him. You needed him, his praise, his touch, his dick. The latter making itself known as it twitched against your ass. You couldn’t take it, the spores a distant memory lingering in your nose as you were convinced you’d die if Leon didn’t breed you. You needed him rabbiting his load into you, you wouldn’t see straight without it.

You didn’t have to hope for long, since, just one desperate plea from you, Leon was opening up the front of his pants to slide into your sticky cunt. You sobbed, the feeling of his cock splitting you open was mind-numbing and clarifying at the same time. It made your mind spin, but the haze was already clearing, the aching in your entire being finally letting up. You needed more, needed him to fix you. With every bounce on his rigid cock, you were closer and closer to relief from the burning heat that consumed your body ever since that stupid BOW sprayed you. 

Squeezing his fat cock like a vice was instinctual, impaling yourself second nature, the haze making you seek your body’s most primal needs. You couldn’t think, mind wired to take his cock like a good bitch, and by golly you were good. Poor old Leon whined as you got him all wound up and ready to bust a load into you, balls scrunching in anticipation.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna breed this greedy pussy. That’s what she wants, isn’t it? This whole time she’s been beggin’ for my cum.” He huffed, bringing his index and middle finger to your aching clit. He rubbed tight circles onto the slippery nub, whimpering when you immediately clenched around him. 

“Yes, Yes! I need it… Need you to breed me.” You sobbed, creaming all over his length as he fucked you into oblivion. 

“Shit, couldn’t pull out if I tried.” Leon moaned, snapping his hips up into you in shallow thrusts until his balls tensed and he shot ropes into your pussy. You felt complete, the fog clearing for a moment until you felt empty again. 

You huffed, moving your hips again before Leon could say Sweetheart. He convulsed, too fucked out as his eyes rolled back.

“Fuck…”

[h5eavenly]

Promise of eternity.

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.”

[megumisgirl]

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."

[moonsandmobilityaids]

The Flu Part 3

Pairings: Poly!marauders x disabled!reader Summary: You get the flu. But for someone with your immune system, the flu is never just the flu. Warnings: Flu Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The morning light seeps through the high windows of the hospital wing, illuminating dust particles that float lazily in the still air. It's quiet, a stark contrast to the usual bustle of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. On any other day, you'd be out there with the rest of them, rushing to class or laughing in the Great Hall over breakfast. But today is different. Today, you lie immobile on a crisp white bed, your body heavy and unresponsive.

A dull throb pulses at your temples, matching the rhythm of your heart. Your skin burns hot against the cool sheets, while tremors run down your spine, leaving a trail of chills in their wake. You swallow hard, your throat raw and parched despite the glasses of water Madam Pomfrey insists you drink. The fever has its hold on you, refusing to let go, clinging with an intensity that tightens around you like a vice.

Madam Pomfrey hovers nearby, her face etched with concern as she consults another healer—a tall, stern-looking man who casts worried glances in your direction. Their voices blend into a low hum, words indistinguishable from the static buzz in your head. They speak about you, of that you're certain, but the meaning slips away before you can grasp it, lost amidst the fog clouding your mind.

Beside you, three figures sit huddled together—James, Sirius, and Remus. They've been there the whole time, taking turns keeping watch by your bedside. Their shoulders are tense, postures rigid, every so often casting anxious looks toward where you lie.

"Y/N...," James murmurs, his voice barely more than a whisper. It reaches you, distant and distorted, as if carried on the wind from miles away. "We need you to be okay."

Sirius' hand finds yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your palm. His touch is grounding, a beacon calling you back from the edge of consciousness.

"We're right here," he says, though his tone lacks its usual bravado, replaced instead with a quiet desperation. The reality of the situation hangs heavy in the air—the girl they care so deeply for reduced to this state, each breath drawing shallower than the last.

Remus watches, his knuckles white where they grip the armrest. It's not supposed to be like this—you're not supposed to be lying there, pale and motionless. He wants to do something, anything, but feels helpless in the face of your illness. A low growl rumbles in his chest, frustration mounting.

Madam Pomfrey moves with purpose, her steps echoing off the stone walls of the hospital wing. The stern-faced healer beside her follows closely, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. They've been at it since morning—concocting potions, casting spells—all in an attempt to break your fever, but nothing seems to work. Your body fights back, resistant to their efforts.

"Stay with us," James murmurs, his voice a soft mantra that circles the room, weaving through the silence that stretches between each agonising second. Sirius and Remus echo his sentiment, their own pleas adding to the symphony of worry that hangs heavy in the air.

Madam Pomfrey's hand hovers above your forehead, her touch light as she checks your temperature once more. Her expression hardens as she pulls away, confirming what they all fear—the fever hasn’t broken, and your condition is worsening.

She turns to the boys, her gaze meeting theirs with an unwavering intensity. "I need to speak with you three," she says, gesturing towards the far corner of the room. There’s a gravity to her tone that leaves no room for argument. With hesitant glances back at your still form, they rise from their seats, following her with heavy hearts.

Once out of earshot, Madam Pomfrey takes a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. "Y/N's fever isn’t going down," she begins, ignoring the way her voice wavers. She clears her throat, pushing forward despite the knot tightening in her stomach. "And the infection... it's spreading."

Sirius' grip tightens around the edge of the chair he's leaning against, knuckles whitening under the strain. Beside him, James swallows hard, his adam's apple bobbing as he struggles to process the information. Remus remains silent, eyes fixed on the ground, every muscle in his body taut with tension.

"The problem is Y/N's immune system," Madam Pomfrey continues, her words measured and precise—a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within each of them. "It's too weak to fight off this kind of infection."

This isn't the first time you have been in such a state, and they’ve seen you confined to the hospital wing before, pale and shaking, after another bout with your chronic illness. But never like this.

"I've done everything I can here," Madam Pomfrey admits, her voice barely a whisper now. "But given the severity of Y/N's condition and her weakened immune system..." She trails off, the weight of her next words hanging heavily in the air.

"There’s only one option left." She meets their gazes again, her own reflecting a mixture of determination and regret. "We have to transfer Y/N to St Mungo’s."

"You can't mean that," Sirius says, his voice rough with disbelief and simmering anger. He looks ready to argue, to insist there must be another way, but even he knows that Madam Pomfrey wouldn't suggest such a drastic measure unless it was absolutely necessary.

Remus is quieter, his jaw tight and hands clenched in his lap. He knew this was a possibility—had feared it, even—but hearing it spoken aloud makes it all too real, the words slicing through the thin veil of hope they've been clinging to.

All three boys turn to look at you, lying so still on the hospital bed. A mix of fear and helplessness flickers in their eyes as they take in your pale complexion, the dark circles under your closed lids—a stark contrast to the vibrant, lively girl they know and love.

"Y/N," James whispers, as if saying your name could somehow anchor you to them, keep you safe within the castle walls. But there's no response from your motionless form, only the steady rise and fall of your chest offering any reassurance.

"St Mungo's?" Your voice is barely a whisper, the words slipping past your dry lips with effort. The thought of leaving Hogwarts—your home away from home—sends a pang through your chest, sharper than any physical pain you've experienced.

"I know it's not ideal," Madam Pomfrey says gently, her hand still resting on your forehead. "But we're running out of options here at Hogwarts."

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes—not of fear, but frustration. You want to protest, to say there must be another way, but deep down, you understand the severity of your condition. And despite the swirling emotions threatening to consume you, one fact remains painfully clear: staying at Hogwarts could mean letting this illness take an even greater hold over you.

"Okay," you manage, though the word feels heavy and tastes bitter on your tongue.

Madam Pomfrey gives a small nod of approval, relief briefly flashing across her face before she resumes her professional demeanor. "Rest now," she instructs. "We'll make sure everything is ready for the transfer."

You want to argue, to tell her you're not tired—that sleep won't help. But that would be a lie. Every inch of your body aches; exhaustion seeps into your bones, pulling you further under its spell. Fighting off the infection has left you drained and weak, each breath more laborious than the last.

James watches as Madam Pomfrey walks away, a hollow feeling settling in his stomach. He glances back at you, lying so still on the hospital bed, your face pale and drawn. Despite the distance between you, he can see the subtle tremble of your hands, the slight furrow in your brow—a testament to the battle raging within you.

Sirius stands rigid beside him, arms crossed tightly over his chest as if trying to ward off the chill creeping into the room—or perhaps the reality of your condition. His grey eyes, usually sparkling with mischief and confidence, are clouded with worry.

"This doesn't feel right," Sirius mutters, running a hand through his hair in a rare display of unease. "There has to be something else we can do."

"I'll arrange for the transfer within the hour," Madam Pomfrey declares, her tone leaving no room for argument. It's a sound you've grown accustomed to over the years—firm yet caring, always with your best interest at heart.

The next time you open your eyes, there's another figure standing by your bed—a healer from St Mungo's, dressed in lime green robes that seem too bright against the stark white of the hospital wing. They move with calm efficiency as they check your vitals and prepare you for transport.

You're barely conscious, hovering on the edge of awareness. The pain has dulled into something distant, but it lingers still, a constant reminder of the battle being fought within your body. Even so, you try to focus on the voices around you—the familiar cadence of James' worry, Sirius' attempts at levity, Remus' quiet strength.

"Y/N." The whisper comes from beside you, where James sits, his hand reaching out to grasp yours. His fingers are warm and slightly calloused from countless hours spent gripping a Quidditch broom handle. He doesn't say much else—what is there to say?—but his worried expression speaks volumes.

Across the room, Sirius paces, each step punctuating the silence like a metronome ticking away seconds. His brow furrows, lips pressed into a thin line as he runs a hand through his hair—an attempt, perhaps, to physically shake off the helplessness threatening to consume him. He stops mid-stride, glancing back at you, then quickly turns away again, unable to hide the concern etched onto his features.

Remus stands a little farther back, arms crossed tightly across his chest. His gaze never strays from you, watching every move the healer makes with a hawk-like intensity. If he's afraid, he hides it well behind the stoic mask he wears, but the tension radiating from him betrays his true feelings. This isn't how it's supposed to be—you're not supposed to be lying there, pale and weak while they stand helpless, waiting for news that could change everything.

"Stretcher," the healer commands, wand at the ready. A floating stretcher appears beside your bed, its surface shimmering slightly with protective charms. The boys watch as the healer carefully levitates you onto it, their eyes wide with apprehension.

"How long will she have to stay there?" James asks. His voice is steady, but his grip on the edge of your hospital bed betrays his worry.

"And can we visit her?" Sirius adds, arms crossed over his chest. He's trying to appear nonchalant, but the slight crease between his brows gives him away.

"What about treatments? What are they going to do exactly?" Remus questions, his tone quiet yet persistent.

The healer looks up from her task and takes a moment to address them. "It depends on how Y/N responds to the treatments our team provides," she explains patiently. "We'll be placing her in a specialised ward designed for those with compromised immune systems."

"Compromised—" James starts, but the word catches in his throat, leaving an unspoken question hanging in the air.

"Yes," the healer continues without missing a beat, understanding the gravity behind his unfinished question. "Given Y/N's current condition, stronger potions will be used—ones that aren't readily available here at Hogwarts. We'll monitor her closely, adjust the dosage if needed..."

She trails off, returning her focus to securing you onto the stretcher. Her movements are deliberate, each one serving a purpose—to ensure your safe transfer, to maintain your stability, to offer a sliver of hope amidst the uncertainty.

"We'll take good care of her," the healer reassures them, though whether it's out of professional duty or genuine empathy, they can't tell. All they know is that you're being taken away, beyond the stone walls of Hogwarts, into the unknown.

Despite the assurance, the words hover like smoke, thick and suffocating. They cling to every corner, seeping into the cracks, offering little comfort against the chill that has settled deep within their bones. Can this stranger truly understand what you mean to them—their girlfriend, their confidante, the girl who fits so seamlessly into their lives?

“She will be okay, boys," Madam Pomfrey reassures them softly. "St Mungo’s has the best healers in our world. I'll keep you updated on her condition."

You feel James's hand tighten around yours again—a lifeline amidst the storm that threatens to consume your thoughts. His voice breaks through the fog of fear and pain, a beacon guiding you back from the edge.

"We're here, Y/N," he whispers, his breath warm against your cool skin. He lifts your hand up gently, pressing it to his lips. His eyes are full of worry as they meet yours, but he forces a smile onto his face—a shield against the despair that looms over all of you. "We won't leave until they take you away."

Beside him, Sirius stands tall and resolute. His usually playful features are drawn into a serious expression—one that speaks volumes about the gravity of the situation.

"See you soon, baby," he murmurs, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. Even now, with everything at stake, he manages to hold onto the hope that things will get better—that you will get better.

Remus is the last one to approach. Unlike the others, his goodbye isn't filled with empty promises or forced optimism—it's quiet and gentle, like the man himself.

"Just hang on a little longer, Y/N," he says, resting a hand lightly on your shoulder. His touch is comforting, grounding, even though you can barely feel it through the numbness that has spread across your body. His eyes, a soft mix of concern and reassurance, never leave yours. "You have to fight this... for us."

[aakaneeee]

ROUND 26: AKANE VS. TOV

Everything is shaking. Around her, nothing is clear anymore, lines blurring like watercolor, colors dissipated as if they were particles of dust, the blinding lights shining between the clouds. She can barely hear: everything is loud, too loud, and it's ringing in her ears like the buzzing of a thousand muttering aliens. It feels like they are judging her: no, them. Her opponent was no different: they both had the same fate of losing everyone in the blink of an eye.

If she dies, Naz will go crazy. She'd change completely. She sees her as pure: or at least, purer than her. She doesn't want that to change. If she survives, the next round won't give her certainty. It's something she's learned long ago: in this competition, tomorrow is never certain. She never knows what will happen. She just wants to rest: bury herself in the comfort of something soft, like a cloud, be softly illuminated by stars so as not to be left in complete darkness, and of course, stay together with Naz: forever. And know that eternity is promised.

But no: never has she considered a life where everything is perfect. It's out of her league, out of her possibilities. The heavy fog around her life will never rise. She's older than most contestants, she'd know best escape is impossible.

No.

Escape is possible.

But not for her.

Never for her.

Beneath the muffled sounds of still playing instrumentals, that were already blending in her ears, she hears the scores tallying. She doesn't dare to look back: she's afraid of what she'd see. She wants to die not knowing what is happening to her, if she loses. The sound of the verdict calculating is foreign to her compared to her opponent. Her second round was stopped because of a double kill, and she was left without the experience. It feels new to be on the stage, despite not being.

Her eyes gently closed, sparkly white makeup in it's full glory, adorned by the stage lights. Her performance was good. Was it good enough? She could almost feel Kiba's scrutinizing gaze on her. They were already upset with her, because she cut her hair without permission and mauled the original dress she was given, choosing her own white gown, like a bride to the altar, like a corpse to the funeral. It could mean anything. Nothing and everything at once. It would start up controversies: perhaps that's what her owner wanted her to do anyways. She's already brought them enough fame. And unfortunately, their mannerisms got to her. She's even chosen a calm song. But no: it was for her own peace of mind. It felt like the lyrics were familiar, like a warm embrace of her lover, guarding her from the scarred world.

I promise you, soon, the autumn comes.

She reached for her pocket. Just in the case. Her finger placing itself oh so gently onto the trigger.

To steal away each dream you keep.

The sound stopped, foreshadowing the announcement.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Curiosity killed the cat.

And so, her face fell. 50/50, huh?

Anything can happen. But she knows what will. And she knows what she wants.

She begins walking: slow, but long purposeful strides along the stage, down the stairs, her eyes stuck to a certain someone. They escaped for too long: death was imminent. She didn't want to go down alone, so simple. Everyone should have imagined that an "ANAKT honor student" would not fall without a fight. No, it wasn't a fight. Because she knew she was about to win everything she wanted, and yet, lose it all, too. She didn't have anything except Naz and her own life, anyways.

The muttering and surprised gasps of the public grew dead silent as a gun was pointed towards guardian Kiba's head. She wanted to do it with a straight, unfeeling gaze, but the ominous tie had put her under pressure. She would've much rather to just lose with a small score, than be in the hands of fate. Fate was never on her side. Between rapidly falling tears, she realized she's not ready to die. There weren't many things waiting for her. But there was one, that was worth millions. She will anyways, so at least she should do something for the upcoming humans that would be put in a disgusting adoption center.

And she pulled the trigger.

Gasps rose again, but she didn't hear them for long, as her own fated bullet pierced through her skull. Blood gushed, and she fell to the ground, her dress' veil flowing gracefully behind her, as if it were a ghost, as if it were a star's tail when it falls out of the sky.

"I love you, Naz."

And so, a shooting star was born.

'A shooting star's meaning is the end of the beggining. Some say, it's a sign of humility, others, that it's about the vastness of the Universe. But for her, it was always the same thing. Even though it's falling, it's up in the sky, like a celestial being, and is a sign of undying love. And yet, the differences in between make such an arduous affection impossible.'

@sotogalmo @nottoonedin @junebluues @billwasnot @paradisedisconcert @4listr @lookatmysillies @solei-eclipse @apriciticreveries @ivanttakethis

[walls171]

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

[doki-doki-imagines]

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

“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"

[thekingthatwrites]

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 😢

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

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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."

[pessimysticrw]

The Watcher DLC - Personal Dissection

[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

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.

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.

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!)

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.

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.

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...

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?)

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

[boggsart]

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. 💖����

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

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:

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

[nepsah]

i made it before midnightttt..... god why am i making these so needlessly complicated... anyways OCtober 4 w/keii (and tsoji!)

excerpt of the scene below the cut- it's. not going to make Any sense but whatever-

“Do you want to try going outside again?” Tsoji asks.

You have lost track of how long it’s been since the last time he took you outside. Time doesn’t - and really never has - matter to you. But you have gazed out of the windows. Watched the green sway in the wind, felt the gentle rays of their star upon your skin. You are slowly regaining your color - slowly becoming something other than a bleached out ghost. Something that is alive, but really shouldn’t be.

“Yes,” your mouth answers. Your mind, however, is not sure that this is a good idea.

Tsoji helps you into the wheelchair. You can walk longer these days, but he insists that you use it. “Just in case things are overwhelming again,” he says.

You pass doctors and nurses and patients on the way out of the hospital. All of them are so distant from your room that you don’t usually pick up on their presence. The fog of thought and emotion blots out your mind until finally you reach the doors. The glass doors (a new word) that slide open when you get close. This is familiar, at least. There were doors like that at home, too. You remember them on the school you attended, before everyone found out what you are. (a bad omen).

The outside is warmer now. The breeze brings scents to your nose that you still can’t name. There are more people around, though you can’t see them with your eyes. A few doctors hover silently from within the hospital, watching. Expecting. You try to tune them out and instead focus on Tsoji.

Tsoji pauses just outside of the entrance. He does not want to overwhelm you, but you can feel how badly he wants you to be able to go outside. He is tired of being inside all the time. The novelty of you being strange and new is the only thing keeping him around. You do not want him to leave you alone with the other strangers in the hospital. Atsia has so little time to come by these days… it would just be you and the impersonal nurses and doctors. 

You point to a cluster of bright red nearby. “What that?” You ask, clumsy and leaving out an important particle. There are too many particles to their language for you to remember.

“Flowers, those are…” Tsoji wheels you over to them, telling you the name of this particular kind of flower.

You have kept your scanner on your person at all times. It is your lifeline, the thing that you need to survive. You take it out and point it at the flower.

“They aren’t for eating,” Tsoji says, even as you wait for the result.

Safe. You can touch them. Tsoji has moved you close enough that you do– you lean forward, slowly, and brush the tips of your fingers against the delicate petals. They are soft, so soft, softer than anything you’ve ever felt you think. Oh, you love these flowers.

“Do you not have flowers where you’re from?” Tsoji asks. You get the feeling that he thinks it’s a stupid question, but he asked it all the same.

You lean back in your wheelchair and shake your head. “No flowers,” you repeat. “No flowers nearby,” you add. You’re sure that there are some of them somewhere. You learned from the books that Kaii would give you that most plants need them in order to reproduce, and obviously, your people have enough food to scrape out a living on Trionnoa still….

Or they did. How long has it been? What year is it?

[therandosfandos]

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.

[quixoticanarchy]

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)

[shippingfangirl013]

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.

———————————————————

First, we have to go back to season 1. . .

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.

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:

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

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -- -

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.)

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:

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.

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,” )

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.

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.

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.)