#someone please tell me Johan is alive

[gingiesworld]

The Scarlet Storm : Hydra Reborn

Chapter One

Taglist : @mothertoall2 @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic @dopeyouth @karsonromanoff @bimad @reginassweetheart @machyishere @gemz5 @pawiie @duckiekong (If you want to be added to my taglist, please DM me or comment)

After Thanos was finally defeated. The world lost some heroes. Tony sacrificed himself, leaving behind his 5 year old daughter Morgan and wife Pepper.

Clint was the one who sacrificed himself. He finally beat Natasha at her own game. Leaving behind his wife and children.

The there was Vision. The one who gave his life, scarificing himself to stop Thanos from retrieving the stone. Only to have Wanda watch him die once more.

The world was working hard on mending itself. Bucky and Sam had disappeared to work on some case. Leaving Natasha, Wanda, Steve and Scott at the Avengers compound. Yelena was travelling, in hopes in helping people adjust again.

"Hey, are you ok?" Wanda asked Nat as she walked inside the meeting room. Seeing Nat looking for someone. Seeing a name on the screen. Y/N Romanoff. "I didn't know you had a daughter." Wanda stated only seeing the last picture that was ever took of Y/N. Back in Ohio

"Y/N is my sister." Nat said quietly. "Well she was. We were split up before Yelena and I were took into the Red Room. Y/N was taken somewhere else."

"So you want to try and find her?" Wanda asked her.

"I do." Nat said as she turned to face the witch. "But she hasn't surfaced since she disappeared. I hoped that with everyone being back, she may be one of them. She has this thing with her eye. Most of the kids used to call her a freak or a demon. She has this red line going through her left iris." 

"You don't think she could be, you know?" Wanda asked her sadly.

"That's what we were told when we were first taken in, but then Dreykov told me years ago that she was alive." Nat informed her. "He only said one name after that before he tried to escape. The Lightening Soldier."

"I remember that name." Wanda said as she used the computer. Typing in the name. A picture came up of a tall masked figure. The only name noted was the Alias they are known by. "Pietro used to tell me how they used to train him with his super speed and combat skills."

"They were experimented with an enhanced version of the super soldier serum. Also giving them super speed." Nat read from the file. "They have only been spotted a small amount of times."

"They get moved very often. Hydra didn't like to keep their most prized weapon stationary in the same place for too long." Wanda informed her. "Last known location, Russia. Five years ago." Wanda pointed at the screen.

"Do you think they could still be there?" Nat asked her. Wanda shrugged unsurely. "I just need to know for definite if my Y/N is still alive or not."

"We will." Wanda told her, the two coming up with a plan.

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

Y/N had been awoken from their cryofreeze slumber. Frozen in time for five years. Johan Schmitt's grandson, Alec Schmitt took over his plans with Hydra. Finding the unknown Hydra base in Russia. Coming across a chamber, the power was still surging through the base. Keeping the Cryochamber working. Keeping The Lightening Soldier in a frozen slumber.

He had read up on The Lightening Soldier. Knowing that she is the older sister of the Natasha Romanoff. Also that she doesn't remember a single thing about her life before Hydra. She doesn't remember her sisters.

He started the defrosting sequence. Hoping that The Lightening Soldier was still Hydra's property. Once the sequence was complete, the chamber hissed as the hydraulics to the door had finally been opened. After years of being locked.

Alec watched proudly as The Soldier opened her piercing blue eyes. Noticing their was a red line through her left iris.

"We have work to do." He told her with a smirk. "Hydra will be born again."

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

"So, let me get this straight." Steve started as the remaining Avengers stood in the briefing room. "You want to fly to Russia in hopes of finding your sister. Who may or may not be this Lightening Soldier."

"Yes. That is exactly what I want." Nat told him as she crossed her arms.

"And who is going with you to look for her?" Steve asked her.

"Me." Wanda said as she stood beside Nat. "I will go with her."

"Me too." Maria told him.

"Look, I understand that this is important to you." Steve started as Nat shook her head.

"Not just to me Steve. Yelena, Melina and Alexei." Nat told him. "We were all told that she died. Was killed during experimentation and now we have a real lead on her."

"So you think that this Lightening Soldier is Y/N?" He asked her.

"I do." Nat told him. "And I think she is in Russia but we will only find out if we go there ourselves."

"Ok. We'll leave at dawn." Steve told them all before walking out. The three girls glanced at each other.

"Did he just?" Nat asked as both Maria and Wanda nodded. "I can't believe it." Nat whispered. Looking at the two pictures. Her eyes staying on Y/N. The Y/N she remembers from when they were children.

"Are you going to tell Yelena?" Maria asked her as the three stood there.

"No." Nat told her. Turning around to face them both. "I think it's best to tell her after we find Y/N and bring her home."

The Avengers were coming up with a plan to find Y/N, while Alec was coming up with a new order. Bribing some SHIELD agents who were stationed in Russia. Using Y/N as a scare tactic to get them to fall in line.

Hydra was being reborn.

[booksanditsseriesormovies]

Ep. 136 aka WHAT THE FUCK THIS BECAME WAY TOO DARK ALL OF A SUDDEN

The writers really forgot this is a children's series holy fuck that was dark.

First off the Brron or whatever his name was was creepy as hell. And ok I said I was pissed at the gang for getting mad at Judai but I didn't want them to die wtf happened. And Johan's dead too?! You are shitting me all of this is for him he can't be dead like I feel that Yubel hates the kid so much they got something particularly sadistic in store for him.

Judai keeps spiraling further and further into depression for real. He wants to save Freed's comrades and Johan, but he went in head first and his friends suffered the consecuences. Although I don't get how him waiting for O'Brian and Jim would have changed anything. Judai did everything he could to protect Kenzan, Asuka and Fubuki when he saw Manjome died. It's not his fault that skeleton dude literally summoned monsters on Judai's field to attack. I honestly think there was no way for Judai and his friends to come out of this intact. And Sho is still under that negative influence and makes Judai sound like he is selfish. I think he is just truly desperate.

And then his eyes changed color and I was like MF WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE. The way he slaughtered Brron and just kept attacking out of anger and desire for revenge kind of reminded me of Atem basically murdering Haga in Waking the Dragons after he supposedly teared apart the card with Yugi's soul. They were beyond recognition, and maybe, just maybe, Judai disturbed me even more than Atem did back then.

And now the Supreme King's soul is influencing him? By the sound of it he will spiral even more into darkness. Jfc someone save this child but w/o his friends there except for Sho who now hates him idk how he can be brought back from this. Maybe his monsters?

This got so dark so quickly jfc.

[crusnikroxas]

Another Deisy shitpost, this time with vine quotes/references >:)

—

Y/n: How would you describe love?

Sans hungry asf: love ... is ...

Sans, drooling: a baked ... sweet potato

—

Y/n the morning before hanging out with Undyne for the first time: Get up I’m tryna see some fish tiddies!

Sans: all you talk about is some fish tiddies.

Y/n: ...

Sans: say something else.

Y/n: ... tiddies.

—

Sans: I’ve been getting a ton of work done.

Papyrus:

Sans: a skele-ton

Y/n walking into the room: This is the comedy police, the jokes too funny!

Sans: I’m not going back to jail!

—

Y/n waking up after flowey attacked her: motherf-

Papyrus giving her the stern stare:

Y/n: trucker dude, that hurt like a buttcheek on a stick.

—

Gaster in the future (if he gets outta the void): Hey son, so I was using your computer today, and I took a look at your browser history-

Papyrus: Nyeh it’s not what it looks-

Gaster: it’s just pages and pages of pictures of pasta.

—

Sans wearing slippers in the snow:

Y/n: What are thoooose!

Sans: they are my slippers >:(

—

Grillby and Sans threatening Mike in the bar while Y/n is crying:

Johan and Seymour: Can I get a burger? Can I please get a burger?

—

Y/n giving $200 to that teen cashier before climbing the mountain: All I wanna tell you is school is not important. Be whatever you wanna be. If you wanna be a dog ... RUFF ya know?

—

Y/n’s magic exploding after trying lionheart:

Sans: wOW

—

Y/n accidentally letting it slip that her and Sans sleep in the same bed: And they were roomates

Alphys and Mettaton writing a fanfic: oh my stars they were roomates ...

—

Y/n to everyone at the sleepover after waking up with a massive magic hangover: In today’s forecast you can clearly see that someone got me fucked up.

—

Sans drunk asf: oh my stars I love Grillby’s

Grillby:

Sans: Grillby’s is my life.

—

Undyne seeing Sans and Y/n cuddling: What the fuck? Is this allowed? What the fuck?

Undyne pointing: Is that allowed?

Sans glaring: stop.

—

Sans threatening Mike: What the fuck is up Mike?

Mike: pleas-

Sans: no what did you say? What the fuck dude? Step the fuck up Mike.

—

Gaster walking around in the CORE: Railing work ahead?

Gaster chuckling: Uh, yeah I sure hope it does.

Gaster: *trips and falls into the CORE because of no railings*

(Not quite sure of this is how it happened canonically but I’ve seen other fanfics say that this is how it happened pls let me know if I’m wrong or if I just don’t remember or the fic just hasn’t mentioned it yet also oof that got dark)

—

Y/n showing Undyne her soul to convince her to not steal it:

Undyne:

Y/n: I’m a bad bitch, you can’t kill me.

—

Y/n to her old boss: Next time you put your fucking hands on me imma fucking rip your face off bitch.

—

Alphys: Have you ever had a dream where you

Alphys: um that you

Alphys: you had - you could

Alphys: you do - you wi-

Alphys: you wants - you

—

Sans: what did you say?

Y/n: I said whoever poked my cheek, ya moms a hoe!

—

Sans flopping on the couch: I have crippling depression

—

Y/n after she learned Flowey basically sexually assaulted her: That wasn’t very cash money of you>:(

—

Gaster: I need to get into shape.

Y/n: goopy is a shape though.

—

(Now for a hypothetical situation since we never really got to know what happened to mike at least not yet)

Sans: *kills Mike*

Y/n: He’s dead.

Sans: ...

Y/n giving sans a judgmental look:

Sans sarcastically: “not the dickhead” what do you want me to say?

—

Papyrus finally snapping after one too many puns: Everybody, excuse my pottymouth. SHUT THE FUCK UP!

—

Y/n to Karen’s before falling underground: You know I think those “live, laugh, love” signs should be changed to “alive, ahaha, fuck.”

—

Alphys pulling out the twister mat:

Y/n: aw fuck, I can’t believe you’ve done this.

—

Grillby explaining everyone’s drinks: Two shots of vodka-

Y/n getting piss drunk after trying everyone else’s drinks:

—

Undyne swinging a spear: Don’t fuck with me! I have the power of God and anime on my side!

—

Sans after smoking dog treats with doggo, crying over a poster hysterically: *unintelligible mumbling*

Papyrus shaking his head: Sans, that’s a poster for Mettaton’s debut.

Sans pausing his sobbing: ... huh?

—

Sans at McDonald’s in the surface: hey excuse me what’s the difference between normal ketchup and this packet that says fancy ketchup?

Worker: well you see this one ... says fancy on it.

Sans: aw sweet I’ll take 12.

—

Y/n: Wanna go get Grillby’s?

Sans: aw I can’t I only have like 69 cents.

Y/n: ah you know what that means;)

Sans tearing up: I don’t have enough money for french fries

—

Sans: is there anything better than pussy?

Y/n: Yes, a really good book:)

—

Sans to Flowey and Y/n’s old boss: you better watch out. You better watch out. You better watch out. You better watch out!

—

Mettaton singing Beyoncé: Bring the beat in!🎶

Papyrus running towards him with a beet in his hands: Anything for you Mettaton!

—

Flowey threatening to attack eventually:

Sans: I hope the fuck you do you’ll be a dead son of a bitch I’ll tell you that.

—

Papyrus: NO SWEARING ON MY PROFILE!

Papyrus: No heck’s, no fricks, and no double decker dicks!

—

Yet again this turned out a lot longer than I thought it’d be haha, I could go on forever. Anyways I hope you liked them, vine will forever be missed but at least we can still make memes out of it :)

SUMITTED BY YUCKYDRAWS

....I only....can have...one reaction....(because most of these were just too damn perfect)

[mystical-flute]

Let the Wine of Friendship Never Run Dry

Also on AO3

When news from Wano finally reaches the Moby Dick, it's the last thing any of them wanted to hear.

(Spoilers for manga chapter 999)

The blinding sun seemed stuck overhead as the Whitebeard Pirates sailed leisurely through the Grand Line. Everything was perfectly ordinary - Teach sat at a table munching on a cherry pie, Vista and Jozu sparred behind him, and there was a steady gulp, gulp sigh from Pops as he drank and watched Izo’s patient attempts to teach some of the newer recruits the traditional dances from Wano.

It was a perfectly ordinary, if not hot, day.

Which made the sudden cry from the lookout tower all the more troubling.

“There’s someone hanging off a piece of driftwood!” Fossa shouted. “Port side!”

“Is there anything else around? Any other ships?” Pops called, already rising to his feet with Murakumogiri in hand.

“No, Pops! Nothing else!”

“Marco, go.”

Marco vanished, his blue flames almost disappearing against the color of the clear sky. Still, the crew watched anxiously as he floated above the barely-visible driftwood and teenager, surveying the surroundings and the state of the kid.

Teach wondered if they were even still alive, although a bit part of him doubted it. They wouldn’t be reaching another island for at least a few days. Unless the driftwood had once been a boat with rations, he couldn’t see great survival odds.

To his surprise though, Marco scooped the teenager into his arms and bolted back to the Moby Dick, screaming out for medical equipment.

Well shit, the kid was stronger than he thought.

That, or had fantastic luck.

“Teach, Johan, help me out with this, would you?” Marco called, not even looking his way as he sprinted to the infirmary. Teach and the rookie followed wordlessly, concern knit across their faces.

“Is she really alive?” Teach asked, frowning in concern at the horribly thin teenager laying on the bed.

“For now, but that’s why I need your help,” Marco said. “She’s probably been without food for a few days… but she looks like she’s been malnourished for a while now. Get Thatch to start preparing some soft foods, would you Johan?”

Johan nodded, disappearing again. It was when Marco moved away from the girl that Teach noticed something strikingly familiar about her.

“Marco. Her clothes.”

Marco paused as he hung up an IV bag on a line, then took a deep breath.

“Get Izo.”

When Teach did, Izo took a sharp inhale of breath immediately. “The pattern is a specialty of Ringo. I’d recognize it anywhere.”

“So she’s from Wano, then? How the hell did she end up here?” Teach asked with a frown.

“I don’t know… but I admit, I’m concerned. Lord Oden wanted to open Wano’s borders. Why haven’t we heard anything about that by now?” Izo asked, alarm written on his face.

“We’ll ask her when she wakes up,” Marco said softly, the heart monitor’s steady beeping the only thing to break the tension that suddenly hung in the air.

It was nearly ten-thirty at night by the time the girl let out a groan, one dark brown eye cracking open.

“Where ‘m I?” she whispered, voice ragged.

“You’re safe…” Marco said, leaning over to check her vitals. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Akio.”

“Do you remember what happened, Akio?”

Izo rose to his feet as well, leaning over anxiously.

“I - I stole one of Lord Orochi’s boats… I needed to get out of the country. H-he wanted me to be a concubine… but I couldn’t - I couldn’t! He’d already taken my parents! I couldn’t let him take me too!” Akio’s breath quickened, panic overtaking her.

“Orochi?” Izo said sharply, and the teenager’s breath suddenly slowed. “What happened to Oden?”

Akio’s face flickered with fear. “N-no one must speak of him!”

“Please, you're safe here. My name is Izo. I left Wano decades ago. What happened to Lord Oden and his retainers?”

Akio’s eyes filled with tears. “H - he’s dead. They’re all dead. L-Lord K-Kaido and L-Lord Orochi s-saw to it three years ago.”

The air was sucked out of the room.

“Who is Orochi?” came Johan’s voice.

Marco gave Teach a look, and he nodded in understanding, dragging Johan out of the room. The door closed behind them just as Izo screamed in devastation, the echo rippling out to the main deck of the Moby Dick.

“Commander Izo!” Johan cried. “Teach, c’mon, we have to make sure he’s okay!”

“He ain’t gonna be okay for a long time, Johan,” Teach said.

Pops was on his feet when they arrived. “What happened?”

“Commander Izo started f-freaking out for some reason, Pops! I - I don’t know - ” Johan was too new, still too intimidated by Whitebeard to finish his sentence.

“Teach?” Pops asked, raising a brow.

For once in his life, Marshall D. Teach wished he could look away from his captain’s gaze. He felt a strange, uncomfortable knot in his stomach as the reality of the girl’s words set in.

“Oden is dead. His whole family, Pops, and their retainers… including Izo’s sister. The girl said it was Kaido.”

For the first time since Teach had been sailing with the crew, Pops’ face went nearly as white as his mustache. Jozu looked like he’d been slapped, Vista’s swords clattered to the ground, and Curiel bowed his head in respect. The newer recruits stared at each other in confusion.

Pops took a deep breath. “When?”

“She said it’s been three years,” Teach said, bowing his head.

Pops’ face darkened, fury brewing in his gaze.

“What do we do, Pops? Are we going to invade Wano?” Jozu asked, his arm hardening into diamond.

For a moment, Pops was silent.

“No,” he finally ground out. “We aren’t invading Wano. There’s no point. Oden’s already dead, and the casualties would be too great, between us and the Wano citizens.”

“But Pops, he killed some of us! We can’t just sit here and let that go!” Fossa spoke up this time. “And Momonoskue and Hiyori - they were just kids !”

“I said no! The damage is done. We’d be doing nothing but causing trouble for innocent people,” Pops sighed. “Drop anchor. We’ll have a memorial for them tonight.”

It was a solemn scramble to get the sake poured and the cannons ready for the salute. Marco managed to coax Izo out onto the deck with him, getting him a seat right next to Pops.

Izo’s usually carefully placed makeup was smudged, tear tracks worming their way down his cheeks. He was pale and drawn, staring at the sake in his hand as if it were a lifeline.

Pops let out a sigh, standing before the crew with his larger than life sake bottle in hand. “Oden was a good man, as many of you are aware. He was bright, curious, and brought a light to this family. And Toki, Momonoskue and Hiyori as well. Tonight, we drink for them, for their retainers. For their country of Wano as a whole. Fire!”

The sound of cannons rang out into the air, the sound echoing in the darkness.

[higuchimon]

[fanfic] Common Cause

Haou’s golden eyes shifted back and forth as he and his warriors crossed over the rising hills and he could see the terrain that unfolded before them. Scouts reported back that everything seemed peaceful and their target village would be within striking distance shortly. That pleased him; the more souls for Super Fusion, the better.

Something didn’t feel right about this area, though. He couldn’t say for certain what it was, only that it was far too quiet. The forest behind them had been full of life, even if that life quieted down and stayed out of his way. He’d known it was there regardless. But here – there wasn’t anything and all of his instincts told him that there should have been.

He glanced to where his Death Duelists waited for the chance to kill at his command and caught Chaos Sorcerer’s eye. The spirit at once dropped down to one knee before him.

“How may I be of service, Haou-sama?”

Haou considered how to phrase what he sensed in his bones. “Who lives in this area?” He asked after a few moments. “And why aren’t they here now?”

Chaos Sorcerer frowned, checking out the area for a few seconds. “It’s mostly wild creatures – spirits without human partners and the like.” The frown deepened. “It is too quiet. We should have heard more from them by now. I know there’s a pack of Wolves in the area that consider it theirs.”

Skull Bishop glanced towards them as well. “I could go and search for them, Haou-sama? Ensure that they’re not attempting to wait in ambush?”

Haou tilted his head forward. Best to ensure that. He suspected this Wolf pack – he vaguely recalled having seen a Wolf card when he’d been younger – simply departed the area when they became aware of him. It wasn’t likely to be anything else.

At his agreement, Skull Bishop hurried forward, soon vanishing out of sight. The army moved forward, with Haou watching for any sign of his servant’s return or anything else that seemed to wish to cause issues. He spied a few small, harmless spirits, a Dryad here and a Rock Spirit there. He indicated for them to be left alone; both looked terrified at the presence of the army and would not be worth killing for Super Fusion. He needed duelists, warriors, not creatures that flinched at his merest glance.

The farther along they moved, the more that unsettling feeling grew. Somewhere along the way, Haou noticed something else in the air – a hint of copper. His eyes narrowed at that. He’d seldom smelled it before, but he knew what it was. He wasn’t certain of how it could exist here, where those who died left only memories behind, but there it was. The scent of blood.

Skull Bishop came back into sight, waving one hand. “Haou-sama, I discovered what happened to the Wolf pack,” he reported, more serious than Haou thought the situation might warrant. “It seems that hunters have trapped and killed them.”

Haou frowned, not liking the sound of that. “For what purpose?” He ruled this world. He’d given no orders to have the Wolf pack slain. People should not die except by his command. Someone would have to pay for this.

“Hunters might not be the right term,” Skull Bishop corrected himself. “The evidence I found indicates the wolves were slain and skinned before their bodies faded.” At Haou’s expression, he continued. “It can be done, but it depends on how they were killed. Normally if one falls to dueling, the death and dissolution of one’s form is all but instantaneous. But done in this fashion, they had time to take their prize.”

“For furs?” Haou knew there would be trade in this world and nothing he did could stop that. That in no way meant that he condoned death without his command.

Skull Bishop nodded. “I don’t know where they are now, but I have an idea.” He turned his attention to the west. “There’s a trading post there that deals with such materials. It’s the closest one that I know of.”

Haou considered his options at this point. On the one hand, it could be considered beneath his notice to crush a pack of roving hunters. On the other, there was the simple fact that death had happened without his explicit permission. That wasn't supposed to happen.

He also had their current target to deal with. He made up his mind. “Skull Bishop. Go there and find them. Keep them until I can get there. Tell them anything you wish. I will be there after I’ve dealt with this mission.”

Skull Bishop bent his head forward into a quiet bow. “As you command, Haou-sama.” He turned at once and hurried along. Haou moved forward, hearing the soft whispers between the other Death Duelists, mostly envious at how Skull Bishop received such a delicious assignment. They would not argue, but they would be jockeying for the next chance to do something to please him.

He wasn’t sure of how much farther they’d gone before the scent of blood grew even stronger, to the point he began to look for what creature might be bleeding. A moment’s thought and he gestured to Vampire Lord to come up closer.

“Where is that smell coming from?” He asked the vampire. The other frowned, sniffing, before he gestured off to the left, in the opposite direction that Skull Bishop vanished off to.

“There, Haou-sama. It’s very fresh – whatever’s bleeding is still alive.” He licked his lips, a light of hunger in his eyes. “May I ”

“Inform me of what it is before you feed,” Haou ordered. Whatever was out there and injured might be worth saving and recruiting, or saving and having killed later. Or both. Haou could be flexible when necessary.

He slowed down the progress of the army while Vampire Lord darted way into the surrounding bushes. He did not miss that a few of his soldiers stole a few handfuls of berries from some of those bushes. He allowed it; an army traveled on its stomach. He would not eat, though. He’d done so before he left the castle regardless. He would eat again when they got back. He would be hungry after putting in the effort to destroy their target.

Vampire Lord wasn’t gone that long. He dropped to one knee before Haou, who noticed at once that there wasn’t a trace of blood on him. Very good.

“It’s a Wolf, Haou-sama. I believe it’s of the pack that lived here.” He shook his head the tiniest bit. “It’s still alive but without care, it won’t survive.”

Haou frowned. He hadn’t expected a survivor. Survivors meant the desire for revenge, to avenge those who had been lost.

Something that others might have called a hint of compassion stirred deep within his heart. He refused to consider it such. This was merely – pragmatism. As he did everything now.

“Show me.” Haou ordered, and Vampire Lord at once turned and obeyed. He left no trace of his passing but Haou followed him easily regardless. He could not help but recall Camula as he followed the vampire, and wondered if there were any connections between her people and the vampire spirits. Perhaps he would ask, when matters weren’t as serious as they were now.

The closer they approached, the stronger the blood-scent grew, and now Haou could see tiny specks of blood, faintly glimmering in the comet’s sapphire light. He pressed his lips together and fought to control his rising rage. He wasn’t good at restraining his fury, but for now, he did his best.

At last the trees and bushes thinned out to reveal a small area, into easily found except by someone who could pass through all tangles and undergrowth with the ease of a vampire. In the center of the area, by a tiny spring that bubbled up out of a rock, there lay a wounded Wolf, gray fur stained with blood, and two arrowheads lodged into it, one on a shoulder and the other in a flank. The shafts themselves had broken off, but the jagged heads couldn’t be so easily removed.

Haou moved closer, freeing when the Wolf raised its great gray head and snapped at him.

“Leave me to die, human,” it growled, lips wrinkling back from sharp white teeth. “Or I will take you with me.”

Haou raised one eyebrow. “How?” He kept the question simple. “You don’t look capable of killing anyone. Nor of saving yourself.”

Wolf snarled, claws flexing, then winced in pain. “This is no concern of yours. Either slay me yourself or let me be. I desire nothing else.”

Such a proud creature, one that he would have been pleased to see in his army. Though it didn’t seem as if the creature could duel. But Haou took a step closer.

“I have a third option.” Haou offered. “What if I can save you?”

Wolf snorted, trying to rise up and failing. “There is no saving me. Do you not see my wounds? Those hunters sought to destroy my entire pack – and they have done so. Our hides taken and used for their ill-gotten gains – they laughed as they slaughtered us. They mocked our pain and reveled in it.”

Another image flickered in the very back of Haou’s mind. He tried to ignore it, because of what else it was connected to – the thought of Johan Andersen. The hunter Geise – who slew spirits.

Johan would protect him. Heal him. Help him.

Haou knew he didn’t have Johan’s wide-open heart. But he knew vengeance in all of its flavor. He stood where he was.

“I cannot heal you myself – but I know someone who can. She will take care of you until you are healed.” Haou considered his next words. “Those who did this to you – I already have one of my warriors tracking them down. I am Haou, and no one commits crimes such as this in my realm. I offer you the chance for a true revenge upon them.”

Wolf stared at him, disbelief in every wounded line of himself. “Why would you do this? I have heard of you, Haou. They say that you care nothing for anyone who is not yourself. That your goal is to rule this entire world.”

“And so it is. And under my rule, what happened to you will not happen to another.”

Wolf didn’t stop staring. “What would you have me do for this largess of yours?” His voice grew softer with each word. There wasn’t much time left for him to decide and he and Haou both knew this.

“Serve me. Become one of my warriors – you may not be able to duel but I have many ways to gain what I want for my goals.”

Silence was his answer at first. Then Wolf slowly bent his head. “Then so shall it be. Heal me. Bring me vengeance for what has happened, and I will serve you until I am no more.”

Haou turned to Vampire Lord, who stood there in silence the whole time, eyes never leaving the wounds. “Go to the castle. Inform Holy Elf that her services are needed here and why.”

Vampire Lord quickly bent his head and vanished almost before the faint echo of the words faded away. Haou turned back to Wolf.

“I would remove those arrowheads, but I would cause more damage doing so. Holy Elf will do it when she arrives. She will see to it that you’re in it shape very soon.”

Wolf rested his head down on the ground, eyes closing. His breathing grew a little softer, but he didn’t seem ready to die just yet. Instead, he merely rested, trying his best to save his strength. Haou passed the time considering what changes this might make – he would keep Wolf close to him until the creature could be trusted on its own again. Everyone would have to be warned that Wolf was his servant as surely as they were.

Wolf would, of course, have permission to defend himself as he saw fit, just like everyone else did. He’d already seen two of his lesser servants fight amongst themselves to determine who got to serve him. The survivor did very good work.

It truly didn’t take long before Holy Elf and Vampire Lord both returned. Holy Elf hurried over, gentle hands brushing across Wolf’s blood-stained fur, checking over the extent of his injuries, and murmuring quiet words of encouragement. Then she turned to face Haou.

“He’ll have to return to the castle for the bulk of his healing. But I can get him bandaged and enough healing done here for him to survive the trip back.”

Haou nodded at once; he’d expected something like that. He didn’t know much about medicine but it just seemed to make sense that wounds of this nature couldn’t be banished with a wave of one’s hand. “Do it.”

Holy Elf turned back to her new patient and started her efforts, whispering spells under her breath as she slid the arrowheads out and tossed them to one side. Now he could see the full size of them and Haou determined that those hunters would know pain before they finally died. Super Fusion would be too good for them.

Wolf clenched his teeth together as Holy Elf worked. Haou could see the pain still reflected in his golden eyes – so much like his own, Haou realized. He and this proud creature had a great deal in common.

He turned to Vampire Lord as the procedure continued. “Go to the army. Inform them that I will join them shortly. Then the mission will continue.”

“As you wish, Haou-sama,” Vampire Lord bowed, hunger still visible as he slipped back the way they’d come. Haou would have to see to it that the vampire managed to get a good meal. He’d earned it.

Until then, he kept an eye on what Holy Elf did with Wolf. Bit by bit through her efforts, Wolf began to relax. Not the relaxation into death, but from the easing of pain and wounds beginning to slowly knit together. He took deeper, less painful breaths, and his eyes glowed with far more health.

“There,” Holy Elf said at last, rising to her feet and dusting off her gown. “He’s in good enough condition to return to the castle. Do you wish me to take him there, Haou-sama?”

“Yes. I will return there after I deal with this current mission.” As much as he might wish otherwise, he had a task to pursue. Super Fusion would not be delayed – could not be delayed.

She nodded. Wolf slowly pushed himself to his feet and shook away the dirt and leaves that stuck to him. He took a step towards Haou, carefully, as if uncertain if his own paws would support him. Then he bent his head carefully.

“I will serve you, as I said,” Wolf declared. He raised his head to meet Haou’s eyes with his own. Haou wasn’t sure if wolves could actually smile or not but the intent seemed to be the same as Wolf’s tail wagged ever so briefly.

“And I will bring those who slew your pack to you so you can determine their fate,” Haou promised. In truth, he wondered what kind of vengeance Wolf would want to wreak upon them. He knew what his would be – how much like him would Wolf really be?

With Holy Elf escorting Wold back to the castle, Haou now returned to his troops. All in all, they hadn’t waited more than an hour for his little side trip, and the other Death Duelists had kept them all well in line. In silence he took his place at the head of the army once again and gestured for them to move forward.

The moment that he came into view, the gossip between Chaos Sorcerer, Guardian Baou, and the Magician twins dried up. He knew they’d wondered why he was taking this tiny detour. He would explain it all later, when they weren’t off on business. He didn’t know if Vampire Lord had brought Holy Elf by them or not, but it didn’t matter. They would obey his will regardless. They knew the consequences of not doing so.

There were a few other whispers and murmurs as they settled back into the rhythm of the trip. Haou didn’t often stop along the way to mass slaughter, after all. But they died down the farther they went, and no one dare to ask exactly what happened. All for the best. He wanted no rumors to get out, no matter what.

Stomping the village into the dust didn’t take long at all. It was almost not worth all the effort. Dealing with Wolf felt far more rewarding. This was almost getting boring. There weren’t any duelists there that were good enough to even fight him, let alone give him an actual challenge. The last time he’d had a real challenge – could he count Brron for that? Too difficult for him to be certain, since that brought up other thoughts that he didn’t want to think for right now.

Perhaps when he’d fought O’Brien? Those days at Duel Academia appeared so distant and hazy. He could hardly think in the same ways now that he did then. The idea of going quietly to class, of everything being so peaceful - he couldn’t go back to that. Doing so would mean abandoning what he’d set himself to accomplish here and he couldn’t do that. He’d gone too far and done far too much to just let it all go.

So he focused his attention on what he needed to do, regardless of how useless all of those who stood before him were. Most of his warriors easily mopped up the people in the village, taking down their defenders, and soon enough what had been a thriving little village wasn’t anything more than broken stone and burning wood. With a brief nod, he gathered up his forces once more and made a division.

“The rest of you return to the castle,” he ordered. He nodded towards the Death Duelists. “Come along with me. We're going to meet with Skull Bishop.” He glanced towards Vampire Lord. “I give you permission to feed off of no more than two captives.”

Vampire Lord bowed low. “My thanks, Haou-sama.”

Haou nodded; he waited no longer before he started on the way to the trading post. He wanted to get this taken care of with all due speed. Chaos Sorcerer and Guardian Baou moved ahead, while the twins guarded his back. Normally Skull Bishop would have been there, for a slightly different configuration to guard him, but they made do with what they had. If anyone did dare to attack him, they would not survive the experience – no longer than Haou wanted them to, anyway.

The trading post took a bit longer to reach than the village had. Those of the village had probably frequented it – for all he knew, one or more of them could have chosen to purchase wolf furs there. Now that would never happen. It made him feel just a little more satisfied with what he’d done and what he was about to do.

Like with most settlements of any kind, the trading post was surrounded by a palisade of wood, and there were two guards standing outside of it. The moment one of them, Warrior Lady of the Wasteland, saw them approaching, she leaped to full attention.

“Haou-sama! You honor us with your presence!” Fear traced every single word that she spoke. “What can we do for you?”

A quick glance to Chaos Sorcerer removed the need for him to address her. His servant moved forward. “We seek our companion, Skull Bishop. Has he arrived here?”

“Yes, of course,” the warrior nodded, gesturing inside. “I believe that I saw him at the tavern, speaking with a few hunters about wolf-pelts.”

Haou allowed himself the tiniest fraction of a smile. Then with a swirl of his cape, he strode past the guards and entered the trading post. The tavern was probably one of the few stone buildings here; the rest of the space was taken up by various areas that could be taken down and put up quickly as their owners needed, allowing them to travel between posts like this and wherever else they chose to sell their wares. As he marched through the post, he could see various shopkeepers staring in fear, withdrawing themselves as much as they dared.

He gave them only the faintest of looks, moving onward until he reached the tavern. There sat Skull Bishop, with a group of rowdy men and women clad in blood-stained gear, very well armed and with the look of those who knew how to use those weapons. Two of them carried duel disks. One of them, perhaps the leader, was so involved in a raunchy joke being told that he didn’t notice Haou until the armored warlord stood right in front of him.

Skull Bishop rose to his feet as soon as Haou stood there. “Here they are, Haou-sama. What is your will?”

The one who’d been telling the joke broke off and stared. “Huh? What are you talking about?” He blinked owlishly at Haou, clearly having already had far too much than what would be good for him. “Who’re you? Did you want some beer? I’m buying! We got a great> haul!”

Haou regarded them coldly. “By which I presume you mean the Wolf pack.” Each word he bit off until it bled.

“Sure do!” The man grabbed for the cup in front of him, missing twice. “Been hunting them for months! Finally got hold of them and stripped every last one of them!”

“No, you did not. You missed one – that one now serves me.” Haou stated. He nodded towards his servants. “And you will pay for taking life without my permission – and it will be Wolf’s decision what to do with you.”

In a matter of heartbeats, all five of the Death Duelists circled the hunters, disarming them with very little incident. They might well have been more dangerous if they hadn’t been drunk – a fact Skull Bishop had no doubt been counting on. Haou suspected he’d been plying them with beer since arriving there.

He paid no attention to their struggles as he had the wolf-pelts gathered up. Those would be dealt with according to whatever fashion Wolf’s people had. As for the hunters themselves – that would all be up to Wolf. Haou looked forward to seeing what he wanted.

On some level he’d always wanted a pet of his very own. He’d never been able to have one as a child. What a pleasant situation this had become – for him at least.

The End

Notes: Haou is my favorite GX villain by far and we didn't see enough of him. Also, I will write more in this set of 1-shots for other days in GX month.

[insane-control-room]

The Sketch

Chapter Five, Segment Four

Full chapter on Ao3 here 

Previous - Next

I will not.

“Never!” Johan gasped. “I won’t!”

It was not the first time he and the ink machine had gone through this exchange, now. 

The torment of his flesh being torn apart, and then the soothingness of his body’s afflictions washing away as the pipes whispered to him promises and threats, then the pain returning as Johan refused, again and again.

He lost track of how many times the same words passed between creator and creation, he stopped counting the dizzying amount of injuries, he only waited for the void to claim him.

But the pain kept him drilled into the life he was so alone in.

He screamed as he felt his leg break in another place, a jagged pipe slamming into it and tearing at the weak meat beneath taut skin. Sometimes the pain was so great it made him black out. Sometimes his stomach heaved and he wanted to vomit, but the ink machine made sure he did not. And other times, he saw a glimpse of one of his loved one’s faces in his flickering vision, and it gave him strength to push forward, to move on. He was not his body, he was not the weakness of his mortal frame. 

Joey, please, we can work this out, soft coos were juxtaposed by the snapping of his joints into the wrong directions. The ink in his body tore it apart, far too slowly, so each and every nerve in his system was alight with the blazing agony. I can heal you….

“You’re the one who is r-rippin’ me apart like a dog in the first place,” Johan snarled, earning for his insolence naught but a broken rib that pressed against his lung sharply. Johan’s head, which had already been subjegated to a vast amount of torture, lolled on his gashed neck. One of his eyes was swollen, covered in blood, the red of his iris blotted out by the red all around it. His body felt used and useless, and air rushed from his throbbing lungs. “G-God….”

Yes? the Machine answered teasingly, sweetly, the pain subsiding for but a moment, and Johan groaned. He was running out of time, that he knew. His shirt was no longer white, his pants no longer light greenish grey, everything around so visceral maroon and bloodstained, his hair, body, and clothes streaked with gore. He felt his head pulled upright by freezing pipe work, and he shrieked as the skin of his neck was torn even more. The muscles beneath spasmed and ripped ever so slowly, like a smoldering bit of caramel dripping between two tines. The windpipe and esophagus within pulsed as he swallowed blood and screamed prayers. Your body is fascinating… there are so many unneeded parts. If only that skin there was gone, it would make it so much easier to see all the things that make you tick, Creator.

He was torn apart, completely and utterly, the knuckles of his fingers bent at all the wrong angles, his head throbbing in pain, each of his vertebrae pulled at least an inch too far from where they should have been, his hips burning with the exertion of remaining on his feet. 

God, he was tired.

Give in, Creator.

The tears that dripped into the wounds on his body stung and burned. Everything about him ached, and he was so very tired. His shoes felt slick with the amount of blood and sweat that pooled within. Twice he had already thrown up from the maiming, the third time only heaves of his stomach trying to force bile out of him, nothing forthcoming. 

Relax.

Mercifully, he was laid down in the wet puddle of his own blood, staring up at the blank ceiling of sky, blackness surrounding him, the hissing whisper of the pipes the only sounds, coupling far too intimately with his panting breaths. 

I love you, you know, Creator.

Joey sobbed as pipes that snaked to his chest tore his shirt open. He wished the poisonous words would ebb out of his hearing, but the whispers were in his ear, into his mind. The broken rib protruded in the husk of his skin at a vomitrocious angle, and Johan felt his stomach clench, yet nothing was within, and so he merely teared up with the nigh overwhelming pain. His good eye closed, and he tried to let himself drift away, the void so sweet and calling, filled with friends and family and the entire universe, and he longed to join them. The pain kept him there, kept him grounded, and refused to release him. The axe swung over his chest, cutting precisely over his sternum, slicing that area of skin in two, revealing his frantically quivering flesh beneath.

I want to see how you function when you are so broken, so flawed.

The instruments Henry often used to conduct his own experiments on Johan appeared in his flashing vision. Yet they were never used to hurt him, not once, they were used to see and calculate and… love. They were used for good, used to make sure Johan was doing well.

Not what the machine had in mind, for certain.

The scalpel swept into his sight by the ink, and he felt the icy tip of the metal prod and poke at him, he hissing and wincing as the broken ribs were shoved around places they did not belong.

He could feel the cold air hitting his lung, and the wrongness of it all swelled and took over his emotions. He sobbed and cried out again, weeping for Henry, babbling like a madman as the wounds of his flesh proved too much for his mettle. But he would not give in, not here, not now, not ever. 

Give up, Joey.

“You’ll have to carve the words f-from my lips,” Johan’s spittle tasted coppery, and he registered the blood soaking his throat. In a strange, twisted way, he was grateful for it. “I’ll never say ‘em, I won’t g-give up.”

But your heart has.

Johan’s head was tilted so he would be forced to view the damage wrought on his thin and weak corse. With it being nearly detached from his neck, the machine was able to show him much more of the damage than had his head been fully connected to his shoulders. 

His legs were shattered. His hips were sore and cracked. His gut had been stabbed, fluids dripping from the crevices in the flesh. His lungs heaved, ribs broken and moved out of place, fingers twisted all wrong as well, elbows snapped out. Looking at his fingers with the detached eyes of someone looking at another’s pain, and not his own, he noticed how they were torn apart along the lines of his scars. Everything about him was shattered, ruined, broken. A broken toy, to be tossed aside when it no longer sparked the same wonder. He swallowed, and the frigid air on the exposed inner workings of his gullet caused him to cough, blood dribbling out of his lips.

Johan could see his fluttering heart through the gaping hole in his chest.

He could see the ink smothering it, the ink running through it, the ink, the ink, the… in… ink….

His head fell back, and he cried out as the sensation of falling, twisting in the air and plummeting down, down, down overtook him. He no longer was in the studio, was he? He did not know where he was, and he doubted that he would be able to tell, his thoughts so painfully muddied and messy.

A sigh filled his mind.

Was it his own?

“Poor soul… come rest.”

His eye, the only eye he could open at the time, pried itself to see the source of the words.

A rush of air passed through his lips, barely able to speak.

“H-h-hun’o’ar?” 

The entity reached toward him, and he flinched away in fear. Even if it was the guardian, the destroyer, he still was too battered to do anything but fear.

The large hands passed through without touching him, and he remembered… void… code… being hollow… and tired… so very tired….

“‘m tired,” he wheezed from his torn lungs, even as he shook with clawing coughs. Tears slipped down the corners of his eyes. “B-but w-won’t give up. Can’t… can’t give u-up.”

“How I wish to comfort you…” the being’s words seemed hazy in Johan’s thundering ears. “But I cannot reach you. Life still holds you.”

“I know.” Johan’s voice was nothing but a hollow spark of air. “I know.”

He returned to himself in his blood, his eye creaking open.

The foul stench of gore penetrated the air, and he was glad that there was nothing to eat for the past year, else it would smell all the worse.

Had he died? 

The ink in his body kept him alive even as it had killed everything in the realm of life.

There you are, I thought I lost you.

The whispers seemed all the more dangerous, even more haughty and sharp.

Johan was picked up by pipes, the metal beams careful not to tear his already broken body any more than it already was maimed and fractured. 

“C-can’t you let me die, in p-peace?” Johan nearly grumbled, wishing he were with Huntokar. He sent a quick askance to God for the messenger's help the words of prayer on his lips and heart. Johan licked his lips to continue talking. His whole body felt so icy cold, like he had been dipped into a vat of dry ice. “Or are you too d-dependant, huh?”

Johan’s figure gave a painful electric jolt, a scream echoing through the air in his anguish.

“Coward!” Johan cried out to the air. “Show yourself, y-you bitter and twisted beast!”

He felt his unnaturally stretched back arch, but the pain was already gone, he could feel nothing.

“Unneeded! Clanky! Bulky, grotesque!” with each shout of reproof, the pain grew less and less. “You monster with no k-kindness! Overbearing load of tripe!”

Soon Johan was able to stand alone, his own pooling blood sticking to his feet, his hand pressed to the wall for balance. 

His body was maimed and broken, but his soul was even brighter than ever before.

He stood tall and proud, smothered in gore, tears all over his thin frame, so thin that if he were to fall he would shatter along those breaks into millions of pieces, and yet he stood.

“I will never give up!”

[randomnotesofmyown]

Urasawa’s Monster (65-66)

Episode 65 - Johan's footprints (Or, a coming unhappy reunion)

Two of Chapek's men showed up at Nina's room. And Nina agreed to go with them.

Police showed up at Kolasch's flat to conduct a search.

Moments ago, Temma talked the survivors out of the idea to take revenge, saying revenge led to revenge, and Kolasch wouldn't have wanted that.

Temma spotted the worse-than-Johan young man leaving the hotel and he followed him to his flat.

Emerging from behind that young man, Eva pointed a gun at him and asked where Johan was.

Nina and the guards arrived at Chapek's hideout. Chapek was still alive, but had lost the will to go on. He asked to be killed quickly. 

Nina asked to be taken to where Johan was.

A flashback of child Johan and two others hiding as the killings took place at the kinderheim.

Cut to Eva. She demanded to know where Johan was. The young man wouldn't talk, so she fired at his left ear. "It won't be your ear next time, Christoph Sievernich."

Eva asked what Chapek wanted to do by getting him and Johan to know each other. Christoph replied he and Johan had been friends since they went to kinderheim 511 and emerged as the only two survivors.

Sensing Eva had lowered her guard, Christoph tossed a book at her arm, leapt over, subdued and disarmed her. Temma entered. With a gun pointing at Sievernich, he order the young man to drop the gun.

Two shots were fired.

Nina sat next to Chapek in a car. They were heading to the address Johan told Chapek.

Chapek asked Nina if she regained all her memories, and why did she not kill him.

"Your heart is full of hatred, anger, and sadness, right?" Ask Chapek, without looking at Nina.

"What are we? You knew that, right?"

"I heard...how you twins were created," said Chapek, still without looking at Nina.

End of episode 65

Episode 66 - Welcome home (Or, not you, not today) Start of the episode, a flashback: a child's voice  "Mom, don't let go of my hand please."

A narrator talked about a man who became a soldier but whose name didn't really matter, and then a woman, talented, studied genetics at a university, and her name didn't really matter.

This man and this woman met and fell in love in Prague. And this pair was just part of an effort to create a life with the brightest mind and biggest chance to become a leader.

The two of them decided to run together. They were caught and separated. The woman was placed in an isolation room. Whenever someone appeared at her bed, she would request, "let me see him". And every time she would be told that he was on a new assignment.

And there was a man who often came to see her, and sketch her. The woman realized that that man was the person behind the experiment.

Nine months later, in anticipation of a labor, she was moved to another room, where she escaped through the ventilation duct.

She collapsed right outside the facility and was brought back in. She gave birth to the twins and wanted to name them, the mastermind said that wasn't necessary.

Chapek's car pulled over at an abandoned mansion where Johan said he would be.

Cut to Temma, he shot Sievernich and tried to extract Johan's whereabout from him. Sievernich insisted he didn't know.

Temma asked Eva to make a call to tell staff at a hospital about Sievernich. After Eva left the car, Sievernich finally talked.

When Eva headed back to the car, Temma was already gone.

Nina got inside that mansion, and finally she saw Johan. 

A flashback: a fire broke out at their home at the Three Frogs. The twins went away. A couple saw them and offered them food. 

The wife suggested they adopt the twins, the man dismissed the idea and said they should call the police. 

Camera cut to Anna plucking up flowers. And she started a game of chase with Johan.

The couple were shown dead.

"Will you shoot me again like you did before?"

"Yes. I will put an end to everything."

"An end..."

"What's an end?"

Nina then said Johan didn't know the real horror and she would tell him.

Flashback: child Anna opened the door, the screen went black and a voice said, "I'm home."

End of episode 66

Comment: In episode 64, it was very likely that Johan killed the bodyguards at Chapek's hideout, and I thought Johan would finish him off like he did to Junkers and all those middle-aged couples. But I was surprised that Chapek remained alive in episode 65. So, Johan chose not to kill him. Instead, he completely broke Chapek, but let him live to tell Nina what he needed her to know. Also, instead of writing his message on the wall for Nina to read, he decided to maybe play Nina like a pawn by making Chapek, another pawn, the one to tell her where he was, knowing that Chapek would trigger strong emotional responses in Nina.

From where Johan chose to stand while waiting for his sister to show up, I saw some possible interpretations. The first was obvious, he considered himself way above his sister and he stood there to make sure Nina had to look up at him. Second, being so high up there and so far away from Nina, plus the bright sun shining behind him, Johan was making it hard for Nina to aim. So Johan in this episode looked down at Nina, and he did what was needed to weaken Nina's resolve and so she couldn't be the one to end everything.

[jane-argeiphontes]

SOMA: After the Launch Chapter One “Are You There?”

Chapter One “Are You There?”

Simon stared at the broken screen. He kept saying her name, over and over again, even an hour of being trapped in the chair. “Catherine? Catherine? Catherine? Are you there? Please don’t leave me alone.” 

He heard nothing. Just the screen displaying the same message.

Then, he looked down at his hand to see that he was holding the Omnitool. When did he take it out? It was a bit fried on the outside, hopefully the inside was safe. That Catherine was safe. He couldn’t be alone; he didn’t want to be. The screen kept displaying the same message, over and over. Even after he took out the Omnitool it kept saying the message.

CRITICAL FAILURE

Error EXT_READCTX570: Cortex Chip corrupted.

Please retry.

Was it corrupted? Was Catherine gone? He had pried himself out of the chair, not something the original him could do. Then again, he was over 100 years into the future at the bottom of the ocean in a dive suit with another copy of himself still asleep. That Simon couldn’t do that, that one would have thought this just a dream and gone out to a bar with Ashely...Yeah, that Simon lived a good life. He didn’t deserve to have died of his injury, nor did Ashely, he deserved to have lived to the age of 80 and died happy. But he didn’t. Ashely was gone. That Simon died with broken hope that things would have gotten better. Here was his copy, eternally stuck in the ocean. 

The ARK had been launched. Its Simon and Catherine were living in Paradise while he was down in Perdition. Hell on earth, maybe that Leviathan would eventually swallow him up like it did for Ross. Maybe he would be able to make it back to Omicron, or Theta, or Lambda, or even Tau. Any place other than here, he couldn’t stand Phi anymore. He couldn’t stop thinking about Catherine. 

Never until this point has he thought so much more about her. Up until now she was just there like it was the normal day to day thing; normally when she was gone she’d always be back not long after going quiet yet now she could be gone for good. He can’t let her go. Not like Ashely. He had to find a way to get her back. But the Omnitool was fried and he didn’t have the skills to fix it, if Catherine were here maybe she could have walked him through it but she wasn’t. If the WAU was what brought him here maybe he could get it to fix her? It wasn’t like it owned him one like Jesse. What choice did he have? What options rather than sitting here staring at the Omega Space Gun. 

“Hang on Catherine, please still be there. I can’t be alone. I’m going to make things better.” Simon slowly made his way down the stairs, through the mostly depowered Site Phi, and he stood at the exit with the Omnitool at his hip. Before he left, he found a sharpie along with a clipboard of blank paper and outlined an apology. There was a air-tight backpack that the original Ark Crew used to carry their supplies in their attempt to launch it. He saw a name printed on the front, behind some ducktape covering the name like someone tried hiding it away. He peeled back a small bit to see the name Chun. Inside he found a small logbook full of notes on the ARK, her stresses with Mark Sarang’s little cult, and the days they spent heading down to Phi. 

One of the computers was still active, one of the tabs was a Power Suit Tracker. It showed him here at Phi, Jin Yoshida over at Tau who’d be the only challenge to get past if he decided to head back up, one was at Omicron, and another was...at Omega? Someone was up there? 

Nevertheless, he marched on to the WAU, keeping Catherine close. 

“WAU!” he cried out as the door began to open. “I’M COMING FOR YOU!” With a renewed mission, he stormed off into the Abyss’ storm that awaited him following the lights that still laid out the path back. The Leviathan swam back and forth in the darkness, the body of many faced created by the WAU in its mission to preserve Humanity only added dread to them. Its red light emitting from the mouth let Simon know where it was and how close it was getting, it was almost like the thing was following him. Moments before the launch, it had been trying to swallow him up and forced him to hide within the small caves. He still did so, waiting a few moments for it to pass over before he doubled back on his initial route. 

When he came to the old pipeline leading into Alpha, he looked back at Phi, back at the Omega Space Gun, and he felt pride in the launch yet it was overshadowed by the loneliness. The knowledge that no one would greet him when he linked up at a terminal saddened him. Yet he pushed on. 

He found the WAU waiting there, it pulsated as he approached like it was acknowledging his presence. As one of its creations or just as a being before it. Johan Ross stood before it once, when he tried forcing Simon to infect the WAU when he wouldn’t then the Leviathan killed him. Or at least he hoped. The A.I. brought him back once but would it do it again knowing Ross’ intentions? It let Simon go even after he came here. 

“WAU? Can you hear me? This is stupid but here goes nothing.” He ejected Catherine’s chip from the Omnitool and showed it to the WAU. “I need you to fix this! Fix! You made her and I need you to fix her! “ 

Nothing.

“WAU!”

Nothing.

“YOU OWE ME! YOU CREATED ME AND I SAVED YOU!”

Nothing yet again. Simon’s hope began to plummet into despair. He waited and waited, time was slow then compared now. Was it an hour? Two hours? Five? He couldn’t tell, he hasn’t been able since he woke up. Even Catherine didn’t know when he asked. Maybe it’s been two days, three, or barely even that. He wasn’t great at keeping time back in Toronto and certainly didn’t improve since.  

The trip was a waste. He looked at his options:

Tau was overgrown with the WAU, they had living quarters safe away from the monster, but above those was the clinic with Sarah Lindwall. The last human on Earth resting not far from him. Now he wished he kept her alive just to have someone around. No, that was selfish. Sarah deserved to sleep after all she did for the ARK, keeping it safe all this time. 

Phi was closer, cleaner than the rest of what he’s seen so far. There were still sections he hasn’t dug up yet. But that’s where Catherine’s body was, the original one. That’s where the Omega Space Gun was. He’d rather not be back there again.

Then, he saw visions. Someone climbing the Space Gun all the way to the surface, a small platform with someone in a Powersuit lying in a chair, there was a vile of Structure Gel in a container in what looked like Ross’ room, and a cortex chip amidst the wreck of the Light Drone Simon tried using on his way here lying somewhere in the Abyss in what looked to be Tau perhaps? The last two images he saw where of the Powersuit Room in Tau and Omicron. Jin or...Simon Two. 

Simon turned back to the WAU, he wasn’t sure whether to thank it just yet. “Thanks…” was all he could manage. He started his treck back to Phi, as much as he hated every bit of it. 

[queenofcats17]

Last Meeting

After @insane-control-room‘s announcement that their Joey would change after their newest installment of The Big Picture, I decided my Joey needed a last goodbye. So we kinda rped. 

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

"Hey...Jo?" Freckle pokes his head in. "Are you...going somewhere? My creator saw something about that. I mean, the exact words were changing but...Um..." He fidgets a bit. Johan's head lifts from his desk, working on his computer. He is silent a moment.

"I think I am going to die," he says calmly, quietly, after a moment.

"What...What the Hell is that supposed to mean?!" Freckle stalks over. "You can't just die!" He doesn't mean to sound so accusatory, so angry. But he's afraid. Johan stares at his hands. 

"I don't know," he sighs, tired. "I can't see anything past a few weeks from now, at best. Like there is nothing there. Dead zone."

"But your story isn't over!" Freckle's not sure who he's yelling at. "You can't just disappear!"

"What do you mean, my story isn't over?" Johan sinks in his wheelchair. "It should have ended long ago."

"The thing my creator saw said it wasn't over." Freckle begins to pace, gnawing at his lip. "So it can't be over. You...You can't die. It's your story and it can't be over." He doesn't want it to be over. As long as it's still going on, he has a friend. He needs a friend.

Johan's thin fingers snake into his hair, and he fists his hands in an attempt to quell his anguish. 

"There is nothing there," is his hoarse reply. "It ends."

"It can't end," Freckle mutters. "It can't!" He hits the wall with his fist, then winces and draws his hand to his chest. 

"It can't." He repeats weakly.

"Freckle, please," Johan weakly says, not referring to anything in particular. He reaches to him with a scarred hand. Freckle hunches his shoulders, looking very much like a guilty child. 

"I'm sorry." He sits down beside Johan, taking Johan's hand in his.

Johan leans his head on Freckle's shoulder. "I'm glad you're here."

Freckle hesitates for a moment, then leans his head against Johan's. "I'm...I'm glad to be here. You're my friend and I care about you."

"I love you man," the young and tired man says, choking up. "I'm happy that you can... call me a friend." Freckle's expression softens. 

"I love you too." He whispers. Johan wraps him into an awkwardly angled hug, but tight and warm no less. Freckle lets out a soft laugh, returning the hug as best he can. Johan smells like cinnamon and spices as he hugs him tightly, swaying slightly. 

"If I am, somehow, still alive," Johan swallows. "Please, do come visit me...."

"I will." He replies without hesitation. If Johan is still alive after whatever strange event his creator knows is coming, he will visit him. Maybe Johan won't remember him anymore, but he doesn't want to lose him. Johan's watch buzzes, and he ignores it, hugging Freckle tighter still. He sniffles, and hides his face on his shoulder, trembling. Freckle wants to tell him that it will be alright. But he doesn't know that. And he doesn't want to make any more false promises. 

"I'm here." He says, gently patting Johan's back. Johan shudders and quakes. 

"I don't want to die," he bemoans.

"No one ever does," Freckle says without thinking. His voice is dark and his eyes far away.

"I don't want to die feeling like this," Johan corrects himself. "Feeling wrong."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Freckle drags himself back to the present. If Jo is going to die, he wants him to be happy when it happens. 

"You are now," Johan whispers.

Freckle smiles again, soft and genuine. "I'm glad."

Johan doesn't want to let go, but his hips (why is he so feminine?) are starting to ache. He still doesn't let go, but shifts a bit in pain.

"Are you okay?" Freckle feels his heart leap in panic. Why is he so afraid? Jo isn't going to die. Not yet at least.

"I'm fine," he lies as another electric pain shoots up his back, and he pulls away a little.

"Bullshit." Freckle gives him a look. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" 

"Back," Johan mutters. "From my whole... disability."

Freckle nods, standing up and gathering Johan in his arms as best he can. "You got a couch nearby?"

Johan nods and looks to it, over by the left wall.

"Alright." Freckle grunts a bit, making his way over. He is not a big man, neither in height nor weight, so it's a bit difficult for him to carry a tall being like Jo.  Johan blushes from being carried, and leans onto Freckle's chest, closing his eyes. It feels nice.

"There we go." Freckle lowers himself and Johan onto the couch so that they're both laying down. Gods, he can't remember the last time he actually spooned someone. Johan gives a small crying giggle, like a child that got a boo-boo might after being cheered up. He snuggles against him best he can with his weakened limbs. 

"Hey," he breathes, finding a patch of Freckle behind him and holding it gently. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Freckle gives him a big goofy grin. Johan can't see it... but he can tell it's there, and appreciates it. Satisfied, Freckle rests his head gently on Jo's chest. Johan's arms tighten a bit around him. It feels nice to be close.

Freckle stroked Johan's hair, humming to himself. He wanted this to last forever. He wanted to just stay in this moment. He felt his old compulsions creeping up again. The old desire to force the world to conform to his will. But he couldn't. He couldn't do that again

Johan let out a soft chuckle, not a happy one. "You're thinking too hard."

"Yeah, I guess I am." Freckle laughed weakly.

"Take it easy," Johan mumbles. "It's all gonna be alright."

"I'll take your word for it." Freckle nodded, trying to ignore the heavy feeling in his stomach. Everything was going to be alright. Their creators had a plan. It was going to be fine.

“That means a lot,” Johan whispered trying to hold on.

Freckle sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "Do you think it'll go better this time around?" He asked. "Your story, I mean."

Johan wrinkles his nose a bit. "No clue."

"Yeah, I guess you wouldn't know." Freckle chuckles. "Here's hoping, though. You deserve to be happy."

"Mm." Johan doesn't agree in the slightest, but he's far too exhausted to argue.

"You deserve to be happy." Freckle insists, pressing his face into Johan's hair. "You're a good person."

He can feel Norman's blood on his chest, constricting, pressuring, just as the man's body was in his death. He can hear Johnny's wails, Sammy's pleas, everyone's suffering. 

 "No."

"Well...A better person than me." Freckle corrects himself, realizing his mistake. "You didn't murder your whole studio just because you were afraid to admit you failed." He'd been deliberately cruel. Experimenting, torturing. Their lives had been of no consequence as long as he could get what he wanted. Look at what that had gotten him.

Johan tucks his legs up, trying to make himself as small as possible. He'd never even come to as close as good as Freckle is.

"Hey. I can feel you being self-deprecating." Freckle pokes Johan's cheek. "Stop that now." He tries a smile. It's amazing how small a seven and a half foot man can make himself. He's now nearly a hundred percent spherical, and he doesn't reply.

Freckle sighs. "I guess I ruined the moment." No wonder no one ever stuck around him. Whenever he opened his mouth he just stuck his foot in it.

"It's not you," Johan mutters. "I'm just. Bad. I don't deserve you around at all."

Freckle blinks, staring down at him. "I...You know what I've done right? The murder and the ink and the trapping? I'm not a good person. At least you felt bad about what you did. I didn't feel bad until Esther forced me to acknowledge what I did."

"You at least had a reason," Johan whispers, somehow curling even more. He's tired and cold. He still doesn't want Freckle to go. Selfish.

"It was a stupid reason," Freckle mutters, trying to distract himself from the fact that he will have to leave at some point. He doesn't want to go. What if the new Johan hates him? What if he doesn't want anything to do with him? What if he's better?

"Still a reason."

Despite himself, Freckle lets out a quiet laugh. "Fine. It was still a reason."

Johan reaches out a hand to find Freckle. He's so balled up he can't tell left from right.

"You're like a little kitten." Freckle leans down so Johan can find his face. Johan squeaks embarrassedly, exactly as a kitten might, and the ends of his fingers curl in Freckle's hair. He is very glad his face is hidden, as he doesn't know how burning dark it is now.

Freckle's smile widens. "You're so cute."

"Noooooo...."

“Yeeeees. You’re adorable.”

Johan's pout is audible in his voice. "Prove it."

"First of all, you're adorable when you pout." Freckle is trying very hard not to laugh. "Second, you're curled up like a little kitten right now. Third, your hair does this really cute curly thing sometimes where it reflects your emotions." 

Sounds indescribable escape Johan, and ironically, in that moment, his hair spikes up in surprise, and curls back in fluster.

"See? It's doing the thing!" Freckle reaches out and pats his hair. "It's like you're a cat or something."

"Most people say snake," Johan manages to squeak, his hair curling around Freckle’s fingers slowly and steadily.

"Oh yeah. There's some universe where you're a naga or something." Freckle's voice goes quiet as he watches the hair curl around his fingers. Like snakes. Like a Medusa.

"I know that," Johan smiles a little, though it's nearly impossible to see with the way he's curled. "Have you met that me?"

"No, but I know Esther has." Freckle stifles a snort. "She tried to take him home."

"Oh my goodness," Johan giggles a little. "Poor snake's never even seen a house and she planned on taking him home."

"She likes to think she's the sensible one, but she's the one who always brought home stray animals." Freckle snickers. "She's always been the mothering type."

"Mhm." Johan seems to have uncurled a bit.

“She probably embarrasses those kids of hers all the time.” Freckle laughs. His smile quickly fades though.

"Heh, yeah..." Johan smiles a bit, and unfurls some more. "Kids are like that."

“Especially Rachel.” Freckle’s gaze softens. “She’s just like I was at that age. So desperate to be grown up and mature.”

"Weren't we all?" Johan chuckles a little. "Until we grow up and want to be kids again."

Freckle nods, his smile fading. "Makes me wish I could go back and do it over." He pauses, then snorts. "God, I sound old."

"Me too," Johan says almost inaudibly after a minute.

Freckle lapses into silence, stroking Johan’s hair absentmindedly. “I hope you get to do it over.”

Nothing else is said, even when Freckle has to depart, his heart heavy. He hopes things will be better for Johan. He hopes the other man will be happier this time. He hopes he’ll still remember him.

[norsesuggestions]

please tell me about which swedish rulers I should fight, why and if I would win over them or not

because you said “ruler” and not monarch, i am going to take some liberaty and also discuss prime ministers, nobility and such like, which for the majority of swedens history often of equal influence and power than the monarch, or even during certain epochs, actually much more important to the rule of sweden than the monarchs:

Axel Oxenstierna, Lord High Chancellor of Sweden during the reign of Gustav II Adolf and Queen Christina (in office between1612–1654):

this dude was basically the actual de-facto ruler of sweden during Gustav II Adolfs wars, and during the youth of Queen Christina.

he famously given the credit for laying the foundation for the modern adminstative state appartus of sweden. among things he did, was creating the adminstrative län in sweden, a system still in use today.

was also a TOTAL DICKHEAD. during his rule, particulary the oppression of sami people increased. obssesed with starting wars. wanted to create and then uphold the swedish empire created by the conquering of Gustav II Adolf. in general a bad dude.

FIGHT HIM. if you will win? idk, but like, it your damn duty to fight axel oxenstierna if you are face to face with him.

(not saying that Queen Christina and Gustav II Adolf were blameless or something, but this dude is very much the one who held the reign for the practical politics of the swedish state during in particular the epoch of Gustav II Adolf constant warfare).

Per Albin Hansson, Swedish Prime Minister 1932–1936 and 1936–1946. leader of the socialist democratic party of sweden 1925–1946.

dude most famous for popularizing the concept of “det svenska folkhemmet”, a concept which was…. extremaly influential on modern sweden. and which i do not have space to explain here.

BUT, crucial to the ideology of folkhemmet was the the stable heterosexual couple. well amusingly so, Per Albin did actually have two seperate families, and two seperate wives, of which he never told anyone in the public eye about.

so please fight him, do it by mentioning this fact, and you will win i promise. do it!

Olof Palme, Prime Minister of Sweden 1969–1976, 1982-1986, leader of the socialist democratic party of sweden 1969-1986.

this dude was famous for being quick-witted and have a sharp tongue in political debates. so yes fight him, to make him happy, because political discoure was his fave thing.

then hug him, and tell him from me, and a large majority of swedens population, that we miss him very much ever sense he got murdered in 1986, and that we wish he was still with us (because then he could yell at the politics of the current socialist democratic party among things)

do not fight him seriously. just play fight with him, and then give him a loving hug (also perhaps ask who murdered him, we still have no idea in sweden to this day….).

Jean Baptiste Bernadotte [royal title, rarely used today in sweden: Karl XIV Johan], King of Sweden 1818–1844

the replacement for the heir of Gustav III, of which the parliement also disliked. found in a bar by the swedish ambassador by chance according to legend. the ancestor of the current royal family of sweden.

also, forced norway in a union with sweden, which was a major dick move. fight this dude, he was a general in napeolons army, so you will most likely lose, but do it anyway.

Oscar II, King of Sweden 1872–1907and King of Norway 1872–1905

some nobody swedish king who tried to win back the power for the royalty over the parliement. pffft. a doomed project! he was alive during the rise of the working class movements in sweden, which demanded seats in the swedish parliment, and also when it became totally clear for all that Norway would not be that damn forced union that Bernadotte forced them into, anymore.

of which the different dates he ruled sweden and norway gossips about.

old-fashioned grump, fight him. you will win, just like the dissolving of the union of norway and sweden, and the march of democracy won during his lifetime. you might say, why fight with someone who is already laying down? well, he has a very punschable face.

do it!

honorable mention: different irrelavant monarchs of sweden during the 20th, 19th century, 18th century who we do not even learn the names of in school, because they were tbh mostly, or entiraly irrelevant to the actual politics of sweden:

fight them. they are laying down i know. but do it. you will win (just as the politicans of sweden won over them in life).

Gustav III, King of Sweden, 1771–1792:

tried to not be irrelavant as the majority of the 18th century swedish monarchs were. well, he was not irrelavant, but failed entiraly in bringing back the power to the monarch, because he got ya know

murdered by the parliement because of it

but, well, because he is going to get murdered, it feels like a over-kill to actually fight him. look at a play with him or something instead! he was a fan of the arts, so just trick him into believing you are totally on his side.

then join the murder conpiracy i guess *shrugs*

Karl IX, King of Sweden 1599– 1604:

this is the father of Gustav II Adolf, which is what is mostly known for today in sweden. He was one of the many sons of Gustav Vasa, who fought among eachother for the swedish throne after Gustav Vasas death.

also known for, according to legend, dying because of the pure rage of seeing the danish army in the distance (or well heart-attack brough upon by rage at seeing the DANES).

this dude is therefore clearly very ready to fight, but you should not, because you will lose. he did after all win that power-battle between the sons of Gustav Vasa and ended up on top. so, WELL, he is clearly terrifying.

avoid Karl IX at all costs.

Göran Persson, Socialist Democratic Party, Prime Minister of Sweden 1996–2006,

Carl Bild, Moderate Party, Prime Minister of Sweden 1991–1994,

Fredrik Reinfeldt, Moderate Party, Prime Minister of Sweden 2006–2014

the triangle of evil and in general horrible swedish prime ministers of my own life-time. please fight all these guys and their neo-liberal reforms of swedish politics!

FIGHT THEM! (well not with violence literally, because these guys are all still alive, and saying such things would be threath according to swedish law i think. but you know, fight them with words and politics).

(our current prime minister, the socialist-democratic Stefan Löfven is not listed because i have not yet made up my mind about him as a person. these other 3 dudes i have a personal vendetta against!!! we will see with Löfven, if he ever shows enough personlity for anyone to figure out who he is).

Final words

so that was some of them! making this kind off list is hard for sweden, we have existed as a nation for several hundreds years. when we should start count the start of sweden remain in debate, but well, often we calculate the state of sweden from the reign of Gustav Vasa, with start in1523, but ALSO, we often include medieval sweden in our calculations and and…. its complicated? yes?

my point, there are so many people to list in the category of “rulers of sweden”, so haha, this is just a selection of some of them. we are missing the majority of them on this list!  

[booksanditsseriesormovies]

Starting ep. 141. This anime keeps getting more and more depressing and it keeps breaking my heart.

Seeing Judai so absolutely broken beyond recognition inside his head is truly disturbing. I haven’t seen that much anime, but from what I’ve watched this is so unlike a regular anime protagonist. Fascinating, but heart breaking at the same time. 

The duel with Jim broke me. It’s no secret that I lean more towards Johan, Jim and O’Brian as Judai’s friends than Sho, Asuka Kenzan and Manjome. But Jim was probably the only character whom we had no development with Judai in terms of becoming friends. Up until now where we see they were actually good friends and Jim saw Judai was a good person thanks to Karen reacting so well to him. Seeing him trying to reach Judai so desperately, all while trying to duel the Supreme King. It was very emotional to me not gonna lie.

And having O’Brian, arguably the most badass character in the series, just ran away from the castle, screaming in fear. It really put into perspective how menacing the Supreme King really is, even if it’s Judai in the flesh. 

(Was it Ironheart the one who gave Jim the Orichalchom eye? If it was, kudos for the awesome nod at DM. I know many hate Waking the Dragons and I agree it doesn’t make sense but it’s my guilty pleasure okay)

Just started off 141. And after all those truly depressing episodes, I am glad we started off with Edo and Ryo being the badass mf they are. I miss their almighty decks and power so it was a treat to see them obliterate the servants as if they were nothing. I wonder now which allies they will recruit. Given that half of the cast is dead and O’Brian has PTSD now, and Sho says he holds no interest in dueling anymore, I can only think of Echo, Amon (is he still a thing?), Chronos, and/or some new character. 

(Someone please tell me if Johan is really dead because he is nowhere to be found and if he really died I will scream at my computer screen. And Edo basically implied Johan’s death was the catalyst that made Judai fall into darkness. So someone please tell me Johan is alive and can set Judai back to normal...please?).

Seriously this season is dark af what is going on. I am watching the sub version but just out of curiosity I have been watching a few episodes here and there in english dub and LA Spanish dub. The English dub is a definite no no no no for me, the Latam Spanish dub has some pretty good voice acting...the thing is that the dialogues are not taken from the original but from the eng sub which makes it shitty. I have seen that many epic or dark scenes fail to live up to the original in the dub version. Either due to a change in music, dialogue or voice acting. But everything has been so dark since that duel vs Brron that even the dub is dark as hell.

[theimpossiblehandbook]

Play Journal #2

I remembered real fast why I don’t like playing video games so much as watching my friends play them. Monotony. 

Papers, Please really tapped into my soviet Russia cold war soul through the establishment of having a job that includes checking the travel documents of people going in and out of a country. Quickly I understood that this game was in itself an ordinary establishment. Other than the opening scene of Man from U.N.C.L.E. running on replay in my head, this game was oddly boring while wholesomely intriguing. 

Huizinga discusses the need to acknowledge that “all play is a voluntary activity” (102). Although I started off somewhat forced to play the game due to the assignment, I eventually found myself completely ingrossed and startled to find that I had played the game for nearly 80 minutes without so much as checking my phone. I was disappointed to have to close the laptop and move on to my next class. The repetitive nature of the game and hard to find the menu button made it extremely easy to fall into the pit of continuous play.

This game certainly exists in the category of mimicry as it is a game of entering an imaginary universe although I’m operating a desk job. I’m ridiculously stuck in a state of irony about the fact that I’m thoroughly enjoying playing Papers, Please. 

I don’t think the game offers much agency, especially in terms of what I have for expectations and what I am able to do through motor functions. I understand that I am supposed to stamp the passports, and when I tell you that I hate every single time the stamps would return to their original position. 

Clicking that each time is awful. But no, it must return to that second fault each person that I interact with. This made me want to hone in on the motor skills that much more efficient because it meant that I stamped more passports and made more money which leads to my next problem.

Although I would aspire to be an explorer within video games, I am without a doubt an Achiever, or someone who plays video games with the intention of accomplishing everything (Bartle). At the end of each day, I did my best to have the most money that I could hoard, and I had absolutely no issue with letting the uncle and mother-in-law die within days. I was a little disappointed that my son died, because he was the only one I was willing to spend money on to make sure he stayed alive. Alas, I was only stuck with my wife. Because of my want to hoard and make the most money possible, I really had a hard time enjoying this game in that aspect because other than money, there was really nothing that I could continue to hold on to or keep between days that I deemed valuable.  

General consensus? I plan on trying to finish this during Spring Break.

Works Cited: 

Bartle, Richard. Player Types.

Caillois, Roger.

Fullerton, Tracy. Game Design Workshop: A Playcentric Approach to Creating Innovative Games (4th Edition). CRC Press, 2018. Pages: 53-76

Huizinga, Johan. Homo Ludens. Reprinted by permission of Beacon Press. 1995.

Notes from Dr. Suzanne Scott’s lectures.

[theunknown-ericfanfiction]

Chapter Fifty.

The Unknown Chapter Index.

Unexpected Chapter Index

Morgan heard the tires screaching and retreated back, further into the building.

The gunshots began to resonate outside the building.

Morgan couldn't leave Aleks to go out and fight, but she couldn't let anyone get in the building.

"Make sure all entrances are covered, in this floor and in the upper one, if the floor upstairs is covered we move to higher ground" Morgan said.

The people inside the building were mostly woman, but that didn't mean they weren't trained the same or harder than the men. Everyone got on their feet and started to do something, Morgan watched as a group of them guarded the kids in a little corner and used their bodies to protect them.

Morgan's chest tightened when the thought of leaving Aleks alone came to her, but she didn't have a crown just because she was Eric's wife, Eric was out there fighting with the other dauntless and so would she.

She approached the woman and handed Aleks to one of her, giving her a determined look that didn't require any more words or commands from her.

She heard Aleks whine but she quickly stepped back and walked to secure the upstairs.

When she reached the next floor she made sure she could move everyone upstairs. When she walked to the windows to look outside she watched the trucks of the resistance, people hiding behind them and taking fire.

Morgan jogged downstairs and instructed the woman and children to head up.

She was walking away from the group and helping secure the last door, she was near the girl that was finishing with the barricade when she was blown backwards, blood spurring out of her chest.

She fell on her back, Morgan stumbled back, then a man came into the building with his gun raised. He hadn't seen her, and when he pointed to another girl to his side Morgan quickly charged and kneed him in the ribs, taking the gun, he didn't let go, Morgan kneed him again, but he didn't stutter. He threw the butt of the shotgun to her cheekbone, but Morgan didn't let go.

She heard her name being called, and in the split second she let her guard down, the man raised his gun to the side and shot.

She didn't get hit, but it was almost as if she was. Creed stumbled back into a wall and fell down, a spur of blood painted the wall behind him and a trailed down to where he now laid.

Morgan kicked again and in a fast move she moved the barrell of the shotgun to the man's face and shot.

The two proximity shots deafened her bad. When the guy fell after having his face blown off with a shotgun blast, she fell to her knees next to Creed.

The blast got him in the shoulder and a good portion of his neck, blood was spilling non stop. She pressed her hands to the wound and didn't know if she was talking or screaming, she was definitely crying, her chest was tight like no other time before.

She felt a hand take her by the shoulder and making her turn to whoever was grabbing her. Another dauntless was talking to her, she could faintly made out that they were okay to start transportation in the vehicles, dauntless' and the resistance's.

Morgan didn't left the grip she had on Creed's wounds, she helped get him into the truck and got a quick glimpse of Aleks as he was being taken in the truck with her. He was crying, but at that moment she allowed him to cry a little if that meant it was going to save Creed's life.

He had a faint pulse, Morgan could feel it when she pressed her hand hard enough on his neck. Her hands were covered in blood, she still couldn't hear herself, but she knew that the whole way down to Erudite she was whispering "please be okay, please be okay".

"Guard 18 in Erudite come in" Eric felt the voice in his walkie.

"Eric, come in, do you have a visual?" Eric was with Johan taking care of holding the force in the gap in the South entrance in the city and as of now, they were holding off okay.

"I have a visual on the baby"

"What? Where's Morgan"

"Hold on, they're coming down the truck. Oh shit" the guy whispered "uh she's fine but the blonde guy she's with, he's in a bad bad shape sir"

Eric lowered the walkie and looked at Johan.

"Blonde guy is Creed?" Johan asked. Eric reluctantly nodded and let out a sigh "we can hold off, go"

Eric hated strongly every disgusting feeling that came with the choice of letting someone in. He hated having this pit in his stomach as he traveled down the Erudite. The fun, the gathering, having beers, talk, all that he enjoyed. But everything else, situations like the when you could be told the person you cared about was no longer going to be with you, in your life, that part he hated.

He knew no one in the faction was going to let Morgan or Aleks get hurt, he knew they were protected and going to be fine, but a friend as unconditional as Creed was was going to be hard to find if he died.

He pulled into Erudite with a jolt and hopped off the truck towards the entrance. As soon as he stepped feet into Erudite it was chaos, medics and nurses were running around, people were screaming in agony or crying out of desperation.

Even though he was a leader no one was going to stop to give them directions to where Morgan was, so he walked straight to intense care where Creed should've been taken, and there they were.

Someone he didn't know was holding a still crying Aleks, and Morgan was sitting in the floor, legs bent over and her elbows resting on her knees. Her hands were filled with blood that ran down her arms.

He walked quickly to Aleks and at the same time he was relieved he was fine his heart broke when the little one reached his arms to him. Eric held him and pulled him close to his chest, holding him tightly. Aleks cried in his chest while he tried to shush him, kissing his forehead and telling him everything was going to be fine.

He was mad at Morgan, but when he saw her face, lost, tears and blood smeared on her face from cleaning said tears, he knew he couldn't ask much of her.

"There's an optometrist coming down to check them, Morgan took two close proximity shots and is still deafened. And aside from the psychological trauma, Aleks is fine"

"He's not making memories, hell be fine, any news about Creed?"

"No one has come out, there's got to be at least five of six people in there working on him"

Eric sighed and looked down at Aleks, he touched his head and ducked down to look at him in the eyes. Fortunately he had stopped crying.

He looked back at Morgan, still sitting there, not realizing or caring that Eric was there, one of her hands was holding her head up while the other was balled into a fist.

Eric left her be, knowing that Aleks needed him a little more urgently.

He walked down the hall and into one of the rooms they had prepared with food in cases like this. He took a bottle and prepared baby formula for Aleks.

The little one grabbed the bottle with both of his chubby hands and tilted it up to eat away.

Eric was worried sick, and tried to stay away as far as he could from Morgan and the room where they had Creed, that whole area meant bad news and he wasn't sure if he was ready to deal with them.

Instead he headed down into the secured areas that had been built a long time ago to secure the population in case of an attack in the city. Aleks was still eating when he heard the noise coming from one of the rooms.

Eric knew that there were planned activities and roles everyone in the different factions should take. He knew that Amity was supposed to take care of the children and tend the wounded in this situations. He also knew that Amity had been decimated, being the first faction that got hit, and the people who were alive were the ones who weren't in their compound when the attack happened.

What he didn't know, or rather couldn't understand, was how on Earth, after the death and destruction had gone past their faction, the members of Amity were still happy and cheery, singing and dancing to the kids they were supposed to take care.

Aleks began to bounce on Eric's arms at the rhythm of the songs they were dancing. Eric couldn't help to smile and kiss his chubby cheek while Aleks kept being drawn to the environment.

He wiggled to be put down, Eric obliged and let him down, taking him by the hand and leading him in.

One Amity girl approached him happily and silently asked Eric for permission to take Aleks.

Aleks couldn't be bothered and easily switched his grasp from his dad's hand towards the Amity girl. She took him to the other kids and another song began.

Eric didn't know if he should leave Aleks behind, but then again, Morgan wasn't in shape to take care of him either.

He decided to leave him for an hour. When he headed back upstairs to where Morgan was, he deviated towards a bathroom in Erudite, he damped a towel and walked to where Morgan was.

Now, she was sitting in the chairs nearby, balled up on her own stomach, elbows resting on her legs and face hidden in her hands.

He walked to her and bent down to her level, placing a hand on her head and making him look up at him, Morgan was crying again. Eric didn't wanted to hear the end of it.

"Any news?" He asked weary. Morgan cleaned her tears again and took a deep breath.

"The doctors told me they couldn't give Creed the serum"

"Like hell they can't"

"Yeah, that's what I told them. They gave me some bullshit explanation" while Morgan continued talking Eric ran the damped cloth on her hands, cleaning the blood off her hands and arms. "They told me that the shards from the shell casing of the shotgun embedded deep into his muscles and if they gave him the serum, the tissue would start to heal fast, and if they caught another shard they didn't take out before they would have to start cutting in already healed tissue. They're waiting to get everything out before giving him the serum. But then he's also losing a lot of blood, being open like that"

Eric could understand the procedure, but he also wanted to get everything done and over with.

He finished with her hands and turned the cloth to a clean spot, then ran it in her cheeks, her forehead and part of her neck.

Morgan had been avoiding eye contact, but when Eric finished cleaning her up she looked at him, knowing the second she did she would start crying.

"I don't want him to die" she whispered, her chin trembled and she looked away to stop her self from crying again.

Eric sat down next to her and pulled her to his chest, running his hand down her back, then up to her neck. Morgan cleaned her tears and laid her head on his shoulder. Still, Eric could feel his shirt dampening little by little.

Of course, Eric didn't wanted Creed to die either, what worried him was the state he would end up when he survived, because he was going to make it. One way or another, by his own or with Eric's and Morgan's help. He wasn't dying.

[hellv1ra]

The Cruelty Of Fate: Chapter One

Word Count: 2955

Pairings: Eventual Bucky x OFC

Warnings: None.

Summary: Picks up right after the battle of Azzano right before Steve’s rescue of the 107th.

A/N: This is kind of an introductory chapter for my OFC and other original characters, and part of the dialogue is taken from Captain America: The First Avenger.

Prologue 

Nov 3rd 1943

   “Colonel Phillips?” She Saluted him.

“Yes” he says glancing up from his task

“I have another stack of letters for you to sign” She could see the sadness in his eyes as he grabbed the file from my hands.

“Lieutenant Jones?” he says turning back to his task at hand.

“Yes Sir” she chewed at the inside of her mouth

“Why is it that you’re delivering these to me and not my secretary?” he didn’t even glance up from his desk, still signing paper after paper.

“Boredom I guess? I’ve got some down time until my next assignment. I know that what you’re doing right now isn’t an easy task. She had a stack that was finished and I was already on my way out here, figured I could cut a little time for the two of you to make this go process go quicker.” She knew that this was one of the shittiest parts of war, informing the families of fallen soldiers that their brothers, sons and husbands weren’t coming home.

“Thank you” He sighed “Have they to-” he was interrupted by a man approaching the tent

“Colonel Phillips” They both glanced over at the large man and Agent Carter standing in front of his desk.

“Well, if it isn’t the Star-spangled Man with a plan, and what is your plan today?” he deadpanned. ‘Ah’ she thought looking at his outfit, this must be Captain America. she’d seen his posters around base. She stepped back from the colonel’s desk giving him and Agent Carter more room.

“I need the casualty list from Azzano sir” The colonel raised an eyebrow in his direction

“You don’t give me orders, son” The insistent look on the large man’s face was saddening.

“I just need one name. Sergeant Barnes from the 107th”

The colonel glanced over at Peggy and pointed his pen at her

“You and I are gonna have a conversation later that you won’t enjoy” Lieutenant Jones shot a sympathetic grimace her friends way.

“Please tell me if he’s alive sir. B-A-R” The increased octave in his voice did little to hide his desperation

“I can spell” The colonel stood and filed the papers away “I have signed more of the condolence letters today than I care to count, but the name does sound familiar. I’m sorry.” For the briefest moment, the look of exhaustion from the day creeps into the colonel’s features. The sadness and grief in the captain’s eyes is heartbreaking.

“What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?” The colonel’s stony gaze returns, his features hardening.

“Yeah! It’s called winning the war”

“But if you know where they are, why not at least-” The colonel interrupted the man exasperation evident in his voice

“They’re thirty miles behind enemy lines. Through the most heavily fortified territory in Europe. We’d lose more men than we’d save. But, I don’t expect you to understand that, because you’re a chorus girl” The captain’s eyes hardened

“I think I understand just fine”

“Well understand it somewhere else. If I read the posters correctly you have somewhere to be in 30 minutes” as Colonel Phillips turns his back to the captain, he stared at the map on the wall before turning and leaving the tent.

Colonel Phillips was looking over documents on a table and without breaking conversation he pointed to Agent Carter

“If you have something to say, now id the perfect time to keep it to yourself”

Peggy scurried off after the Captain.

“Sir, I don’t you think you were being a bit harsh? He clearly lost someone close to him” She said approaching him.

“Ma’am, it’s not our job to coddle people, this is war”

“Chester, showing compassion isn’t coddling, it’s called human decency” She put her hands on her hips expressing immense displeasure at the situation.

“Lieutenant, don’t you have a mission to attend to!” he asked her agitatedly at her.

Spying one of her men out of the corner of my eye with a large manila envelope in his hands.

“As a matter of fact, I do. Have a good day sir” he waved her off as she left the tent to meet up with one of my officers.

  “Miller” She nodded at him.

“Ma’am, we got the orders” he handed me the folder.

They walked to the tent of their unit, as they entered the tent she saw her men sitting around and laughing amongst themselves. Sitting in a chair behind the desk that encompassed most of the space she began examining the documents provided to her. Everything seemed standard pictures of their target information on his rank within the Third Reich, coordinates and aerial photos of where they were heading.

I grabbed my bag that contained my gear and uniform, I slung it over my shoulder and headed towards the flap in the wall of the tent that lead to my quarters. I stopped short of entering my room.

“Let’s lock and load ladies, we leave in the hour” Lieutenant jones smiled as she went through the “door” leading to her adjoining tent where she slept, the cheers and jeers of the men fading as she closed the flap.

Changing out of her standard skirted uniform into field clothes. She was dressed no differently than the men of her unit. In the field, they dressed as equals no gender identifying clothing. Sitting on her cot she laced up her boots. Grabbing the tactical belt she’d modified to hold her rifle, ammunition and various knives. She walked over to the mirror above the wash basin in her tent. Taking a wash cloth she removed all traces of makeup from her face. Looking at the dark hair framing her face, Shame I gotta ruin a good hair day she thought tying her hair in a not at the base of her neck.

She grabbed her weapons and strapped them around her body. She nearly forgot the thigh holster she’d recently made to giver greater ease and access to her hand guns, the last item being my bolo knife, it was impractically large but she’d grown attached to it and it had saved her ass on more than one occasion.

 Shoving open the flap of the tent she entered to the murmuring room of her unit dressed and ready for action.

“Alright boys, let’s go kill some Nazis” She smiled, and slapped miller on his shoulder as they all cheered and headed for the jeeps that would be taking them to their next mission.

 November 6th, 1943

 The sun had only just begun rising when they were finally making their way closer to base in the early morning hours. they had received intel that a high-ranking Nazi scientist was hiding out in Croatia. The mission was a success. The target in question a Doctor Johan Wagner was cuffed and gagged in the backseat of the jeep following me, they didn’t want him trying to off himself with some cyanide pill like some of other Nazi cowards they had tried to capture in the past.

The five of them make up a small, lethal team, that officially didn’t exist. Unofficially however, they worked for the Strategic Science Reserve, after being lent to the organization by the US Army. The only people on the ground who know who they are and what they do in an official capacity are Colonel Phillips, Agent Carter and Howard Stark. What the team does is very secret and very off the books. There will be no written history of what they did. Their names will never grace the insides of history books for the work they’ve done. Especially not mine. She mused thoughtfully driving the jeep down the winding path back to base. Hell, even the name that I go by doesn’t even belong to me. It was the name they chose for her so that she wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

  Their objective as a team was a simple but dangerous one, capture their targets, take any data or intel they may have and bring them in for questioning. What happens to them afterwards wasn’t their concern. The current piece of garbage we obtained had been working on weaponizing a new and deadly strain of anthrax. One that is set to be resistant to any of current treatments. Samples of the work were obtained before torching the underground bunker, effectively (they hoped anyway) destroying the work the doctor had made.

 The team made it out mostly unscathed, Second Lieutenant David Miller will have a new scar running over the top of his left eyebrow, thanks to the butt of a Nazi guard’s rifle. Warrant Officer’s John Davis and Tom Andrews have a few bumps and bruises nothing so far too bad has happened that will make their wives hate me. Chief Warrant Officer Richard Taylor however got it the worst, shot twice in the arm because he decided to be a hot shot.

Hitting a bump in the road, Taylor moaned and whined from the back.

“we’re almost there Ricky, you big baby” She called out from the driver’s seat. “You’ve got no one to blame but yourself for your injuries.” He had decided to run into an unsecured room guns blazing and is now paying the price for it. Lieutenant Jones shuddered at the memory. It could have gone much, much worse. He could be dead.

He wasn’t the only on hurting from this mission she had personally taken a bayonet to the side while they had made their way through the facility. The bastard who stabbed her had gotten an up close and personal view with a .45 caliber bullet between the eyes.

“what ever happened to women being maternal and nurturing?” he whined

“Do I look like your mother?” she asked him incredulously.

“You don’t look like anybody’s mother, you Sheba” She could feel the flirtatious waggle of his eyebrows burning in the back of her head.

“Easy there dream boat, save it for the share crops you seem to be so fond of.” She turned her head to glare at him.

“Don’t be such a fuddy-duddy” He teased her “it’s not my fault they can’t keep their paws off me, I have a reputation to uphold”

“A reputation as a skirt chasing Casanova pig” I sneered at him “Keep it up with that bullshit and I’ll make sure that they keep you in the infirmary until you’re fully healed, so you won’t be able to show off to all of the pretty girls when we get base leave”

“You wouldn’t” he sat up wincing at the pain from his arm.

“Oh, you know I would, and I’ll make sure that it’s the ugly nurse too, with the big forehead, and that she’ll be the who gives you long luxurious sponge baths” I laughed.

“You’re a monster” he grumbled at her as he lay back down.

“Damn right I am” she chuckled, they remained silent for the last 20 minutes of the drive back to base. Only stopping as they approached the makeshift gates of the base.

“Good morning Private Smith” she said to the young bright-eyed man who waved them in.

“Good morning Lieutenant Jones” he saluted as I drove through.

They were met by immediately met by Military Police and the medical staff as soon as they were parked. A flurry of busy bodies tending to the prisoner and the wounded Taylor dramatically flung his arm over his eye trying to earn sympathy from the pretty nurses who met us.

“Don’t be gentle with him ladies, he’s just playing it up” Davis laughed as he pulled our prisoner from the jeep and shoved the him into the waiting arms of the MP’s.

As she started making my way towards the tents to change my clothes before meeting to debrief Colonel Phillips on the mission, watching the hustle and bustle of the camp. She stopped dead in her tracks, from the looks of things there were hundreds more men in the camp.

 “What? Where did they all come from?” She said to no one.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Miller said coming up from behind her.

She looked at him like he was crazy “Where do you think? I’m gonna go clean up and head to the Colonel for debriefing”

“Like hell you are” he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the medical tents “Not before you hit medical to have that wound tended to”

She sighed pulling away “You know I don’t need it.”

He stopped her from leaving again looked her in the eyes “I know you think that you’re invisible and indestructible but making sure that they didn’t pierce any organs with that stab wound won’t kill you. We can’t afford to lose you.”

“Fine.” She agreed glaring at him.

He just smiled and bowed with outstretched arms leading the way to medical. She glowered at him and begrudgingly marched over to the awaiting medical staff. An hour later she was stitched up and cleared of any major damage being done to her body. She and miller were told they were off duty for the next two weeks and Taylor wouldn’t be cleared for at least a month.

She left the medical tent and headed off towards the tent Colonel Phillips was current seated. “Colonel Phillips” She saluted him

“At ease Lieutenant, you here to debrief me on the mission?”

“Yes, sir.” He nodded,

She continued “Mission was a success, the target, his files and his experiments were obtained, we had no casualties on our end and a few of us only have minor injuries.”

“You call that stab wound on your side ‘minor’?” He said eying the bloodied hole in the side of her shirt.

“I’m standing here in in front of you, aren’t I?” he chuckled at my statement, motioning for her to sit. He seemed more relaxed than usual.

“And the bunker?” She gingerly sat down in the seat across from him.

“Annihilated sir” She looked around at all of them men now walking outside. “Chester where did all these men come from?”

“They’re the rescued troops from the 107th.” He stated frankly

“What? But how? I thought you said that there was no rescue mission? If you I recall correctly your exact words were ‘Yeah! It’s called winning the war’ when did that change?” He gave me a pointed look

“You gonna stop asking questions long enough for me to answer?” She looked down at her hands and he continued “I didn’t order the rescue mission, Captain Rogers did it on his own”

“Captain who? I’ve been here for months I’ve never heard of him.” She knows she would have remembered a captain in their ranks.

“Captain Rogers, you might remember him better as Captain America?”

“The chorus line guy?” She asked him incredulously “How?”

“Stark and Agent Carter took it upon themselves to drop him over into enemy lines.”

“But how was he able to manage this?” She asked pointing at the now full and bustling camp. “He did it by himself?”

“Do you remember Dr. Erskine?”

“Of course, I do.”

“Project rebirth ring a bell?” Her eyebrows raised curiously and nodded he reached behind him and pulled out a file and handed it to me. The tab said ‘Rogers, Steven Grant’. As she looked over the file seeing all his 4F rejections from the military. The medical history of this man was terrifying, it truly was a wonder how he even made it through adolescence, let alone to adulthood. She read over Dr. Erskine’s notes on him, the words brave, courageous and selfless were used with frequency. She spied the picture of a very small and thin man, in disbelief she held up the photo.

“This is that guy?” she asked pointing at the USO poster featuring Captain America.

“Yes.” She looked at him in disbelief.

“THAT-” she pointed at the poster again “is THIS guy?” she asked shaking the photo in here hand back and forth.

He gave her a look that would have had a weaker man cowering.

“Holy mackerel!” he rolled his eyes at her exclamation. She can only imagine how proud Dr. Erskine was of this achievement. “I can’t believe it really worked” she whispered under my breath. “why hasn’t he been active duty if the serum was a success?”

“The whole idea of Project Rebirth was to create an army of super soldiers, not just one.” She looked at him like he was crazy

“All this time Chester, what the hell were you guys thinking? Were you even thinking? Do you know how much of a load someone like him could have taken off my shoulders? We could have used him, hell I-”

“It wasn’t just my decision, they told me to scrap it, so I did, and it’s all moot point since he’s active duty now” he interrupted

“Excuse me Sir” A soldier came into the tent, saluted and then handed the Colonel a telegram.

“Thank you” he said dismissing the private “Are your men cleared for travel?”

“Yes, but only Davis and Andrews are clear for any kind of combat. Jones and I are two weeks out minimum and Taylor is at least a month out.”

 “We’re not heading out for any kind of combat just yet, you will however need to pack your things. We’re headed for London.”

“London? I’ll let them know. Anything else sir?” She asked standing up.

“No, just be ready to leave in two days.”

“Yes, sir.” She saluted the Colonel as she left his tent and headed for her own feeling a renewed sense of excitement over finally being able to have some leave from this god forsaken war.