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physalian · 2 months ago

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“Why doesn’t the villain just kill the heroes?”

Ah, plot armor. If you want to be a real go-getter and think up a more creative way for the heroes to always narrowly escape death out of sheer dumb luck, the villain being too slow on the draw, or the villain simply not thinking of it in the moment, you have to come up with a reason for why the villain doesn’t just kill the hero.

Four examples today.

1. Zhao & Aang

In “The Blue Spirit,” Aang is captured by Zhao, a man normally not above anything to further his agenda, including murder. The Avatar is the largest obstacle in his way, second to the Earth Kingdom, and all he has to do to take Aang off the gameboard is to kill a twelve-year-old. He’s got Aang in chains, not quite powerless but harmless enough, and could do it quickly.

So why doesn’t he? Per Zhao himself, if he kills Aang, the Avatar cycle will continue, born into some random water bender that may take them years to track down. Sure, they’ll be harmless for a few years and the Fire Nation might get lucky and find them easily, perhaps even sway the new one to their side, but what if the waterbending Avatar is born into the Foggy Swamp? Or they end up having to kill them, too, and then have to track down an earthbending Avtar across the entire Earth Kingdom? Does Zhao really want to take that chance when he can just keep Aang alive? Just barely?

Of course not.

Killing the hero in this case might stop the immediate threat, but it will just delay the inevitable, thus it’s in the villain’s best interest to exploit a loophole while likely committing war crimes in the process. He gets to secure a Fire Nation victory and make Aang suffer for the rest of his life.

Ozai doesn't kill Aang until the first chance he gets, which just so happens to be the series finale. And we all know why Aang has a no-kill policy.

2. Sam, Dean & The Angels and Demons

Hahaha it’s the show known for its refusal to kill its heroes. We’re gonna ignore everything past season 5. There’s obviously meta reasons—kill the main characters and you have zero supporting cast that could realistically take over the show.

But in season 4, despite multiple deaths already for both of them, so begins the “if you die we’ll just bring you back” threat, because they’re angels and angels can do that. Similar to Aang, Sam and Dean risk a fate far worse than death if they don’t cooperate with Zachariah’s plans. He happily gives them both a slew of diseases and illnesses to get his way whenever he gets the chance and reminds them both that if they just kill themselves to escape the Apocalypse, he’ll happily revive them. The Demons won't kill Sam and Dean because they're necessary to further their own plans by breaking certain seals on Lucifer's cage, though they're not above breaking bones and killing bystanders.

Fate worse than death is a popular threat, but usually the heroes offing themselves is still a viable, if deeply unpopular, option. Supernatural removes it entirely and for such a simple little detail, it does a lot to make their survivability believable.

3. Batman & Joker

Ahh the age old furious rant by people who don’t understand Batman: If Batman killed his villains they’d stop busting out of Arkham and murdering innocent civilians, Batman has so much blood on his hands—

Babe. Babe, he’s a comic book character. By his very nature, he can’t kill his villains otherwise he’d have no rogues gallery. Comic books are like a giant board of Monopoly, going around in circles and occasionally having a timeout in jail.

But the in universe reason there’s no killing has been essayed about extensively and so has why Joker doesn’t try harder to kill him, but I couldn’t not include these two. Batman does not kill because he is not judge, jury, and executioner of his villains, most of whom have mental health issues and while they certainly know better and their crimes aren’t justified, his villains need actual therapy and help and medication, not death. Even those who he might agree must be stopped and there’s no other way except murder, Batman himself will not be the one to pull the trigger. He must remain a hero, so that no matter who he comes across in the dark alleyways of Gotham, they know he’s not here to kill them, be it criminal or victim.

Joker doesn’t kill Batman for a much simpler reason, and Heath Ledger literally says it: “I won’t kill you because you’re too much fun.” He does not need a more convoluted reason, he enjoys the game, the chase, the tug of war (most versions of him, at least) and to kill Batman would be to end his greatest form of entertainment, and the only person probably in the whole world who is neither afraid of Joker nor dismissive of him as simply a freak.

4. Optimus and Megatron

Optimus Prime and Megatron are very similar to Batman and Joker but with literal eons of history between them. In most serialized Transformers media, as opposed to movies where the plot is more urgent, Megatron both wants to win Optimus over and just can't quite let himself finally win. Who is he without his rival, after all this time?

Optimus is in the same boat, refusing to kill him because he's still holding out hope for Megatron's redemption, that there's a peaceful way to end this war (no matter how much collateral both leaders end up causing). Shit gets real whenever Optimus breaks the unspoken rules of their no-kill rivalry and Megatron gets incredibly pissy about it because he's in love.

—

Suggestions to workshop this plot hole in your own narrative:

The hero staying alive is absolutely paramount to the villain’s plan (in which case, you have to have rock solid reasons for why they keep narrowly escaping capture)

The villain is so confident in their plan that they don’t even consider the hero a proper threat

The villain doesn't really have a bodycount, but if they kill the hero, suddenly all the other powers that be will take them seriously and they'll have a huge mess on their hands

The villain is so full of themselves or so in love with their rival that it’d break their heart to have to kill them just to win

The villain is simply not capable of murder either physically or morally (perhaps because the hero is a child)

Killing the hero would make them a martyr and the villain would end up with a far bigger mess on their hands when the lone hero is replaced with an avenging army

The villain is too proud to simply kill the hero and wants to win fairly in a proper fight on the battlefield and not take the cheap and easy shot

The villain does not have a phyiscal form or real presence in the plot, acting through their minions, and their minions are incompetent

It’s simply not fun if the hero dies/the hero is the only one who understands them and they’d lose far more than they’d gain by killing them

The villain still wants to try and win the hero over and is so dedicated to this path that they regularly sabotage their own plans desperate to change the hero’s mind

The villain firmly believes in a fate worse than death and while the hero’s survival isn’t crucial to the main plan, they want the hero to watch their own failure/become the villain’s minion/ prisoner/ partner by the end

There’s a million examples out there to pull from and I could keep listing them all night. So long as whatever it is doesn’t come out of nowhere or open a plot hole of “why didn’t they just do that earlier?” you can get quite creative.

One last example that’s a personal favorite of mine to implement: In Eternal Night of the Northern Sky there aren’t too many opportunities to ask this question, but when it does arise, Villain A has Hero B as a meat shield, and while Hero B’s love interest, Hero C, is more than happy to shoot through them to incapacitate Villain A, the person they take orders from isn’t so reckless, which later leads to Drama and Issues.

#writing #writeblr #writing a book #writing advice #writing resources #writing tools #writing tips #writing villains #heroes and villains #plot holes #deus ex machina

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macgyvermedical · 6 months ago

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My Experience in Inpatient Psych

So I know a lot of people on here have talked about their experience in inpatient psych facilities, but I'd like to add mine just to give all you writers out there a writer-focused one. It's below the cut just in case you have to sit this one out for your own reasons.

To give you some background, I am 30 years old and have had hallucinations since about 16 and bizarre intrusive thoughts (someone living in my house that wasn't supposed to be there, somebody poisoned my walls, etc...) for about a decade, as well as very severe anxiety since I was about 3 years old. This is something not a lot of people know about me, even people I am friends with IRL.

The only thing I am actually diagnosed with is anxiety, which I'm starting to think is a failing of the psych systems I have been a part of. I have had counseling off and on and prior to this hospitalization I took escitalopram, aripiprazole, and gabapentin prescribed by my primary care doctor- all for the severe anxiety.

Quite frankly, I should have been in inpatient psych at least a few times before this, and it's by sheer dumb luck that I've survived to continue this blog.

On Friday, I was at home alone and made a few pretty bad decisions. I wont say what they were because frankly they're embarrassing, but they have to do with self-harm. I was scheduled to work Saturday and at about 9pm I realized that if I drove myself to work I would crash my car. Since my wife drives me sometimes, I figured I would just ask her to.

I told my wife and she asked- even if she drove me to work, since I was a nurse, would I be able to keep myself safe around insulin or other potentially dangerous drugs? I couldn't answer that question. We talked for a couple hours and came to the conclusion that I probably needed to go to the emergency department.

At this point I figured they would evaluate me and release me because I couldn't possibly meet the criteria for inpatient. I was wrong in this assumption. After telling them the decisions I had made that day, the feelings of wanting to die in a car crash, plus about a previous attempt, they recommended inpatient. Turns out, when you're a nurse, you can make some really bad life choices with the knowledge you have, and they didn't want to take any chances.

I was given paper scrubs to wear (so I couldn't hurt myself with my clothing or a hospital gown). I was also given a patient companion (someone who sits in the room and makes sure you don't hurt yourself).

They gave me the option of signing myself in voluntarily, or putting me on a writ of detention. A writ of detention is a piece of paperwork that allows a medical professional or law enforcement officer to hold someone for 3 days in a psychiatric facility against the person's will for the purposes of psychiatric treatment. Whether you sign the voluntary or get placed on a writ, you cannot sign yourself out. You need to wait until the psychiatrist taking care of you thinks you're ready to go.

I didn't believe at this point I needed to go inpatient, but I took the voluntary option because there are some perks, like being able to leave within 3 days if appropriate. At this point I was convinced I was probably going to have to call off work Saturday and Sunday, probably be out of the hospital Monday, have a few days to rest and be back at work on my next scheduled shift after that, which was Thursday.

Well, that's not what happened.

Because of some of the decisions I had made, along with bed availability, they wanted to keep me in the observation unit overnight before they sent me to psych. I stayed overnight in a unit that shares staff with the unit I work on, so I was taken care of by my coworkers. This was surprisingly not that bad. I like my coworkers and they were really professional about it.

Saturday I felt like I was in a fog all day. I couldn't watch TV. I couldn't color or write. I worked out some in my hospital room and paced the halls once or twice. Mostly I hung out with my wife and occasionally talked with my companion, but even talking was difficult. I had refused ativan because I felt like I had no hope of finding a medication that made me feel better, and I figured I didn't want to take the one medication that might actually work and then not be able to get it ever again.

Around 7PM I took a 45 minute ambulance ride to the facility. Getting my blood pressure taken is a big anxiety trigger for me, but my brain felt so scrambled that I couldn't express this well. They took it every 10 minutes on the ride there and by the time I got there it was in the 170s/100s (BP goes up when you're having severe anxiety). This was not their fault of course, but no matter how much I thought about telling them or refusing the BPs, I just couldn't do it.

When I got to the facility I was greeted by a tech who took my BP again (150s/90s this time), showed me around and looked through my personal belongings (basically just the clothing I came in with since my wife took my phone and wallet knowing I wouldn't be able to have them on the unit) to make sure I didn't have anything I wasn't allowed to on the unit. She showed me around my room and was really thorough with telling me how things worked, what the rules were, etc..

The rules included:

No patients allowed in other patients rooms

No personal belongings that had strings, belts, or laces, or that could be used as a weapon

No caffeine after lunch and no free access to caffeine

No personal electronics (including eReaders and watches). There was a TV in the day room and 2 phones mounted to the wall for patient use

A little later my nurse came into my room and asked me a ton of questions. Here's the thing about any hospital- you get asked the same questions over and over. By the time I'd gotten there I could give my story in under a minute. Or at least, that's what it felt like. There were only 2 clocks on the unit, at the nurses stations.

The unit itself was laid out in a "T" shape. There was a main nurse's station at the place where the two hallways intersected. At the end of the long hallway there was another smaller nurses station, a cafeteria/day room, and a "comfort room" which was a small room off the day room that had a collection of the oldest and worst donated books that have every come together on a bookshelf.

I did some pacing that night and then went to bed, but didn't sleep particularly well.

On Sunday morning the tech woke me up to take my blood pressure, which was, not unsurprisingly, still high. It was about 5 AM so I got up and paced the longer of the corridors for about an hour. Breakfast was served at 8 and the food wasn't that bad. The coffee was about the worst I'd ever drank, which I suppose helped with the no caffeine goals.

Just after breakfast I met with a psychiatrist on an iPad for about half a minute, and I'm not exaggerating there. The only questions he asked were whether I was suicidal and whether I would be fine with tripling my dose of aripiprazole in light of the hallucinations. I had had a 50-lb weight gain in the last year so I asked to switch my med. He switched the med to cariprazine. That was all.

I had a much longer meeting with my nurse later. All the nurses did an excellent job of assessing me, asked tons of questions, and it seemed like they really tried to figure out what was going on. That day I also met with a social worker, and a therapist, and a nurse practitioner. Each of them did an assessment to see what my needs were while I was there.

There was also a music therapy session where I cried my eyes out to Because of You by Kelly Clarkson.

I was really tired by the end of the day but I also didn't think I could sleep so I asked for trazodone. I should clarify that when I say "I" in this piece I really mean my wife convinced me to ask because I legitimately didn't believe I needed or deserved any of the things I asked for at this point. To my utter shock and surprise, they gave me the trazodone.

My first night on trazodone was amazing and I realized I hadn't slept well in a long time. With trazodone I fell asleep and stayed asleep until the blood pressure cart came rolling down the hallway at 5am. The second I got up on Monday morning I was wide awake.

I paced a lot Monday. I went to a goals session in the morning where I gave a goal to write 3/4 of a page. I didn't know if I could do it or what I was even going to write about, but I know I like to write and it might be a reasonable introduction to getting back to life.

I also was having kind of a rough day brain-wise. My brain was coming up with all the ways I could hurt myself in my room. There weren't a lot of them, but it was trying. I told the nurse during her assessment and she asked if I felt I could keep myself safe. I asked her what she would do if I said no. She said they could move me to a more secure part of the unit and give me more supervision. I knew what part of the unit she was talking about, and I didn't want to go there (no space to pace, and pacing was keeping me alive right then). So I told her I could keep myself safe (if anything, the idea of moving was good motivation to do stay safe in itself). I hallucinated some black and white blood cells falling from the ceiling and music coming out of my vents.

I also had another meeting with the social worker to figure out discharge plans. I voiced in the meeting that I wasn't sure that I could trust my wife, since it felt like at the time she was the one who exaggerated my symptoms to get me in here. The social worker said we had really good communication skills, since this was something I felt needed to be said in front of both of them and we both stayed really calm through the whole thing.

I finished the day with an art therapy session that really helped me turn a corner. The prompt was to draw the emotion(s) you felt right now on one side of the paper, and to draw the emotions you wished you could feel on the other side. For the first time I realized that my emotional state was actually really bad and that the suicidality hadn't come out of nowhere, and that I needed help.

When my wife came to visit later that night I was able to tell her about my breakthrough, even though I still felt a little bit like she had done something to get me in here and I still wasn't sure I needed to be inpatient.

Tuesday was a lot better. I felt like I had woken up out of some kind of fog and I had no idea how long I'd been in it. I went to goals group, a spiritual group, and group occupational therapy. My goal was to be more social and I made a friend and we paced together and worked out. I read a quarter of The Martian by Andy Weir (my wife brought it for me because the best thing on the bookshelf was Louis L'Amour). I wrote about how good I suddenly felt. Turns out, I thought, a few days of good sleep, lots of therapy, and a new medication or two will really change things.

A quick side note about The Martian. I highly recommend it to anyone who is chilling in a psych hospital but has the ability to read while they're there (I sure didn't the first few days). I don't really know why, but the first few times I read it, I felt like they had created this superhuman character in Mark Watney just so they could throw a ton of wild things at him for the story. This time reading it, as a suddenly not suicidal person, I realized anyone with Mark's skill would have done the same thing and not just died on Sol 7 to get it over with.

Wednesday I woke up not feeling nearly as good as Tuesday, but still like the fog had lifted. I was a little disappointed (I hallucinated my cat (thanks for coming to visit me, Corina), some spiders, and just felt kinda meh. But I remembered how good I felt the day before, and that really kept me hopeful about going home.

I saw the psychiatrist again and asked to go home. He joked a little about me staying till Christmas, but ultimately he said as soon as his note was in I could go. I ended up leaving at about 12:30 with my wife.

In the time since leaving I have required a lot of support from my wife. The medications are all locked up, so are the blades and anything I could use to hurt myself. My wife has me in eyeshot at all times. I can't drive due to intrusive thoughts, so she does all the driving now. I quit my job because I feel like it was a big part of why I ended up as bad as I was. As someone who has been a pretty independent person this is a big change of pace, but something that is really necessary to my healing.

Ultimately at the end of my hospital stay, I was prescribed escitalopram, gabapentin, trazodone, cariprazine, and then a few days later propranolol. I'm currently on a total of 5 psych meds and honestly I don't care one bit because its so much better than being not on them at this point in my life.

#mental health #personal #writing reference #inpatient psych #suicide mention #hallucination mention

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adreamingofguns · 3 months ago

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oooh what do you think people get wrong about hoffman and gordon??

OH BOY. Starting with Hoffman, people who characterize him as a daddy dom miss the character entirely. This man is a sub. Put this man in a dog collar immediately. in all seriousness, I also think the characterization of him being a murder maniac also feels... Wrong. We see him getting rid of everything, id and so on, and that feels... Final, to me. Like his Hoffmanator Murder Spree was not intended to be survivable, and only through sheer dumb luck did he manage to live (and because the cops in Jigsaw City are like. Very bad at their jobs). I also think that Hoffman is an extremely lonely man who WANTS to help people (his volunteers of America mug for sure, but also the fact that he comforted Corbett Denlon with a stuffed animal when he didn't have to, and the fact that out of everyone, he is the Only apprentice to target multiple white supremacists) and who only really sticks around because John was leading him with affection like a horse with a carrot on a string. We see this textually when John is encouraging Mark by touching his shoulder in a parental sort of way. I think Hoffman is passively suicidal throughout most of the series because it's the only thing that makes a Lot of his decisions make sense. Also kinda fucked up to make a suicidal guy go after a suicidal target, John.

ALSO THE WHOLE SLOB HOFFMAN THING. This man redecorated his house, this man has an ART NOOK and tasteful black leather that goes with his dark cherry or mahogany furniture. This man wears suits even when he doesn't have to. This man probably smells amazing. And he's fat. Stop drawing him skinny.

ALSO Lawrence is canonically a misogynist with a criminal record who either a) punches walls or b) fights people. This is in text, in the script and in the video games (which ARE canon). Lawrence kinda sucks and he FROM THE BEGINNING doesnt think John is a murderer, so him disagreeing with jigsaw is ooc because he canonically in the movie says "jigsaw doesnt kill people". I think also Lawrence is convinced of how jigsaw does actually help, which is why he goes to the meetings. ALSO LAWRENCE DID THE BOBBY DAGEN GAMES IN MY HEART WHICH KILLED JOYCE BECAUSE HES A MISOGYNIST. Lawrence sucks SO bad as a person, but as a character he's so compelling.

IN FACT STOP DRAWING LAWRENCE SKINNY TOO

#saw franchise #saw #mark hoffman #lawrence gordon

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a-dinosaur-a-day · 1 year ago

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Fossil Novembirb 2: The Survivors

The End-Cretaceous Extinction was one of the most devastating - and tragic - events on our planet.

In the blink of an eye, the world changed from a thriving biosphere to a decimated one. The asteroid caused worldwide wildfires, tsunamis, and the dramatic release of particles into the air that blocked out the sun.

Nothing over 25 kg could survive, because they had nowhere to hide from the devastation. Anything under that limit had to have somewhere to hide - water or burrowing worked best - and something to eat, which was easier said than done. When the plants can't eat, nothing can.

And yet, life survived - not just life, but dinosaurs themselves!

Conflicto, by @otussketching

In fact, one of the first fossils we have from the Cenozoic is Conflicto, a Presbyornithid - like "Styginetta" and Teviornis yesterday! - from Antarctica

Why these dinosaurs, and no others?

They had beaks, which would have helped them to access available food sources such as seeds and spores (plant material in a protective casing)

They did not live in trees, but usually near or with water - perfect places to hide

They were powerful fliers, allowing them to escape the flames and whatever else they needed to

Other than that? Random chance.

Much of the evolution of life on this planet is down to Sheer Dumb Luck

Tsidiiyazhi by Sean Murtha

What happened next was truly remarkable: an adaptive radiation of dinosaurs the likes of which is rarely seen

With all of those newly opened niches, Neornithines adapted quickly, so quickly we can't actually figure out how different major groups of Neoavians - aka, most birds - actually relate to one another.

After all, there was just *so much* free real estate!

Qianshanornis by @alphynix

In fact, many of these dinosaurs evolved right back into niches that their ancestors had famously lived in - penguins show up so quickly that we're giving marine birds their own day, replacing the now-lost Hesperornithines; Tsidiiyazhi and others quickly replaced the empty tree-bird niches left behind by the lost Enantiornithines; and raptors show up quickly too, already reminiscent of the lost Dromaeosaurs.

Qianshanornis, a mysterious raptor from China, had sickle claws just like its lost bretheren! In fact, it looks like it might be a Cariamiform, a group of dinosaurs including living Seriemas and the extinct Terror Birds, which often have sickle claws like Dromaeosaurs did!

Don't fix what isn't broken, I guess!

Australornis by @thewoodparable

Non-Neoavians diversified too, with fowl doing just fine across the boundary - Presbyornithids like Conflicto, as well as mysterious forms like Australornis.

Palaeognaths remain weirdly absent, but don't worry - the earilest ones will show up before the Paleocene epoch is done!

The Cenozoic begins with the Paleogene Period, which has the first epoch of the Paleocene - this was a climatic quagmire, with frequent fluctuations at the beginning before a dramatic rise in temperatures at the end. This climate confusion would affect bird evolution greatly - and lead to the diversification of many kinds, some of which we still have today!

Sources:

Ksepka, D. T., T. A. Stidham, T. E. Williamson. 2017. Early Paleocene landbird supports rapid phylogenetic and morphological diversification of crown birds after the K-PG mass extinction. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America 114 (30): 8047 - 8052.

Mayr, 2022. Paleogene Fossil Birds, 2nd Edition. Springer Cham.

Mayr, 2017. Avian Evolution: The Fossil Record of Birds and its Paleobiological Significance (TOPA Topics in Paleobiology). Wiley Blackwell.

#fossil novembirb #novembirb #dinovember #dinosaurs #birds

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rayshippouuchiha · 7 months ago

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Ray - Kakanaru prompt.

Uzumaki Naruto had a lot of fears growing up. Fears like ghosts, thiefs, villagers, him fading away and no one noticing, him losing people he considers his family, needles, for a while Orochimaru and snakes etc.

The one fear he was never able to outgrow, a fear that unlike everything else didn't fade away or turn into a life lesson, despite facing missing nin, reanimated PPL, tailed beasts, controlled allies, sentient plant matter, and a freaking alien is the fear of ghosts.

It would all have been fine. Maybe even something the others could have an incredulous laugh on except it's not fine when this critical information is revealed in the midst of a C turned deadly SS rank mission with Kakashi and Naruto separated from the rest of the team and transported to a new place,facing what is essentially seeming to be an encounter with the paranormal.

It is certainly not hilarious when someone who is essentially the saviour of the shinobi world starts collapsing at the seams, his body, mind and chakra reacting catastrophically to a threat only he perceives. The worst part is that Kurama isn't putting a stop to his host's idioticy. (Not my personal pov. This is strictly from Kakashi's view)

Or- Kakashi is a bastard. Naruto keeps way too many things hidden. Their relationship suffered and since then never repaired when Naruto met Tsunade and Shizune and understood the true meaning of the term sensei and mentor. And Kakashi- like every other time in his life - when he saw one of the few good things in his life spilling from his hand like grains of sand didn't bother closing his fist until it was too late.

Or- Naruto has Phasmophobia and much like everything else this ties back into his shitty childhood in Konoha. Kurama knows everything. And there have always been spirits and supernatural at play when it concerned Naruto. It was not sheer dumb luck or resilience that helped him survive Konoha after all.

There is a reason children shouldn't be left unsupervised. And now the others can only watch as these forces take away what is rightfully theirs.

fuck I'd read the shit out of this

#RayRambles #Naruto #KakaNaru #prompt

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charlie-pippin-faraday · 1 month ago

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i've reached the investigation portion of danganronpa v3 chapter 2, which is the last point to which i had watched youtube content and thus everything beyond will be new to me. my chapter 2 commentary thus far:

kaito really just decided that he and shuichi were going to be best friends and shuichi didn't have any choice in the matter lol

nobody needed to tell me that kaito was the one incessantly ringing my doorbell, i knew it was him lol

i have been referring to tenko, himiko, and angie as "the girlies" and i am 100% confident that every single one of them is going to die before this game is over

lmao shuichi asking himiko "how have you survived this long?" same bro i also wonder this about her

kaito threatening to slug kokichi and then kokichi literally bolting out of the room is the realest thing that has happened in this game so far

i've made a habit of clicking on ALL the characters every free time to see if they have any fun dialogue before i choose who i actually spend free time with. on i think the first free time slot in chapter 2 i went to kokichi who said something about being scared that kaito had caught up to him because he was afraid he was gonna slug him (or something along those lines), and then when i talked to kaito he immediately said "you seen kokichi around anywhere?" implying he had indeed been looking for him to deliver said slugging. made me laugh my fucking ASS off

by sheer dumb luck, i had gotten the parasol from the monomono machine in chapter 1, so i was able to talk to tenko before doing the flashback light scene in the gym and unknowingly unlock what i later found out was one of the secret scenes (and let me tell you i was delighted by this development and that it happened naturally). and thus i was able to witness ~the girlies and keebo at the pool~. subsequently, i have SO many questions lol. tenko kind of implied that she kind of wanted just to hang with himiko, and angie was probably there because himiko invited her and tenko can't say no to himiko, but why did tenko invite keebo? lmao tenko you're such a hot mess

during the free time session i was planning on hanging with kaito first, but then i spoke to keebo and he asked so vulnerably "shuichi if you have free time would you like to spend it with me? there's something i want to ask you" and i changed my plans SO fast i would die for you keebo

"maybe someone like miu would appreciate his mechanics" shuichi you're not trying to play matchmaker are you?

lmao there was a stark difference in shuichi's reactions to that day's free time events with keebo and with kaito, both of which involved them talking about their skills/stuff they'd learned. about keebo, shuichi said "okay...he's weird and i don't understand him." about kaito, shuichi said "wow, kaito's incredible!" these were incredibly similar interactions. lol okay tell me how you really feel shuichi. you can't tell me he doesn't have at least a little bit of a crush on kaito

hm a "gyoza in the shape of a face - a dumpling that's modeled after someone you swear you've seen somewhere before." hm gee i wonder who that could be. (definitely doesn't look like makoto naegi or anything. haunting the narrative much?)

the fact that korekiyo was definitely in the top half of most reasonable people i spoke to in this chapter is a sign that the world has been flipped upside down

every one of these games has had one weird, obsessive, one-sided, and likely ill-fated romance, and i knew this time it would be tenko's weird thing for himiko. i can't believe i'm saying this but i feel a little bad for tenko. a little, at least. i get the feeling i won't be feeling bad for her in the future. for whatever reason, i get the sinking feeling that in a future chapter this obsession with himiko and her jealousy over himiko spending time with angie is going to end with tenko snapping and someone ending up dead

actually why is everyone obsessed with himiko? tenko claims to care for her and wants to support her and believe in her magic, and she definitely wants to get in her pants, and angie also wants to be friends with her and has successfully brainwashed her to her atua cult and convinced her to put on a dangerous magic show. and like, why? himiko is not that cool, she's lame and pathetic. she eats termites on accident, can barely go to the bathroom by herself, and is super fucking lazy and uncooperative. i get that she's afraid/sad and is susceptible to brainwashing (she's not the only one here easily manipulated *cough cough* gonta), that part's understandable and i'll give her a pass, but like what is she bringing to the table? i don't get why all the girlies are obsessed with her. i'm with shuichi on the "how did you survive this long?" train of thought. i'm torn between "tenko you deserve better" and "all 3 of you toxic girlies fucking deserve each other"

definitely my favorite event thus far has been miu and da boyz clowning on kaito in the casino. true teenage bonding experience. (and i mean da boyz literally, all the boys who were alive were present except gonta and keebo, who is only debatably a boy.)

"i guess you can't underestimate luck" you did it, you boiled down the entire character of makoto naegi to one sentence

but fr tho every time someone utters the word "luck," "hope," or "despair" in danganronpa games i feel myself suddenly at FULL attention, like those words aren't there by accident, there's always hidden meaning there. and i am once again wondering at the lore/secret behind this particular game, i still don't know what it is

immediately after this casino event is when i finally spent free time with miu. it was the first time i'd approached her as shuichi and she didn't threaten me. and she was even in the casino when i approached her! where we'd already spent time together clowning on kaito! so it was perfect timing

speaking of miu, she needs to get laid SO bad. maybe she'd chill out. like she acts like she's had a bunch of sex but given how much she talks about it there's no fucking way she's gotten laid, she's absolutely projecting her insecurities. someone nail this girl please it's what she needs and tbh it's what we all need. side note: kiyo telling her to stfu in the casino was fucking hilarious lol

question do the friendship fragments not carry over from kaede to shuichi? i had updated report cards from hanging with gonta, keebo, and maki as kaede, but they're not there anymore. do i not get to keep the friendship fragments that i earned from them?

another question, was i just not allowed to hang out with maki in chapter 2? every time i approached her during free time she fucking threatened me. did i the player do something to lock her out or is that simply not allowed?

bro tenko is gonna fucking lose her mind. i approached her in i think the last free time and she was just muttering himiko's name over and over again, big yikes. and then "my saliva makes injuries heal faster can i spit on you" girl what???

i think tenko needs to move on, perhaps to one of the other girls. miu, perhaps? if they could fuck i think this would solve some problems for both of them

in the bug room, kokichi said something about a "mean" difficulty and not being a coward in the killing game and i felt so called out lol, because i have all the trial action set to be as easy as possible lmaooo

keebo my beloved saved the day in the bug room and got the first major non-verbal victory in the keebo vs. kokichi war. i'm proud of him, but this will definitely not be the last of it

i do wonder what "snafu" kokichi was referring to when he was running around that caused him to be late returning to the bug room. they never addressed that, and i hope they get to it during the trial

bro did kokichi get rabies or something???? right before the magic show, gonta said kokichi wasn't there because in the bug room his mouth bubbled and then he passed out lmaooooooooooo

what were kaito and maki up to this entire time? making out? aside from ryoma, they were the only ones who were absent from both the bug room and the magic show. miu and kirumi weren't in the bug room, and kokichi wasn't at the magic show and left the bug room for a portion of time, but those two were nowhere to be seen for any portion of both events. i need some answers

noooo don't use keebo as a battering ram!!! that's so rude!!! kokichi definitely won that particular battle in the keebo vs. kokichi war, and we are nowhere near over. i want to see where this rivalry goes, 'cause tbh i think it's secretly the most tense one here

bro i hate himiko uuuuuugggghhhhh. "we need you to tell us how your trick worked so we can figure out how the culprit killed ryoma." "i can't tell you, i did it with my magic and that's the only answer you're getting" god shut the fuck up you're annoying and unhelpful and you never listen and you're actively getting in the way i want one of these dudes to punch you

i have some HEAVY suspicions about who i think is the culprit. and tbh i've held these suspicions since before i even played the game, back when i just watched some youtube content up to this murder. i don't know what will happen from this point forward, but if i'm right about who i think did it, i am gonna be SO stoked about it

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hmshermitcraft · 7 months ago

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'Who would survive in a zombie apocalypse?' is a question the hermits ask far too much for having a resident zombie.

Every hermit has their crazy made-up theories saying it'd be them (except Cleo. She has an actually good argument as to why they'd 'survive') but no one actually thinks they would.

It'd either be someone who can fly, Xisuma, Etho, Bdubs or Scar.

X and Etho have masks, they're not going to breathe zombie air. But that'd only kill them faster. Mask = Less oxygen and less oxygen = quicker death

Bdubs is small. He can get into spaces most people can't. But that has its downsides too. He could get surrounded, run out of supplies and he'd die a horrible, slow death.

Flight would be helpful, but only while you have the energy to.

Scar would either breathe in the vicinity of a zombie and die instantly or survive out of sheer dumb luck.

The hermits know it'll probably never happen, but it's fun for them to imagine. And it ends up different every time! Once they even managed to get Cleo to be the last survivor! And the start of the infection!

It's become a ridiculous team building exercise for them. Every time somebody brings up the discussion, it turns out people have come up with numerous new arguments as to why they or another hermit would survive.

Some of the more noteworthy examples:

"Joe just would, I don't know." - contributed by Cleo

"Hypno shows so little skin, a zombie couldn't bite him." - argued that the infection could be airborne, so that wouldn't count

"Zed wouldn't even notice." - contributed by Tango, in a very tired voice

"Zed would be experimenting on the zombies." - contributed by Impulse, sounding equally as tired

"Bdubs is so short, no zombie is going to lean down far enough to bite him." - from Etho, this led to an hour of arguing (from Bdubs.)

"Mumbo would just build a vault." - from Iskall.

The addition of Joel and Skizz kept them going for weeks with new ideas. Every date night eventually devolved into 'the zombie discussion'. There was no escaping it. Just like, some might say, a zombie infection.

#hermitshipping #ask #xisuma tag #hypno tag #cleo tag #bdoubleo tag #etho tag #scar tag #polyhermits #mod 🎀#weekly theme: apocalypse

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ohnoitstbskyen · 1 year ago

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one piece live action thoughts?

It looks very much like a live action adaptation of One Piece. For better, and very much also for worse.

I mean this in the sense that it's adapted to fit a form that helps it make sense 1) in live action and 2) to a general audience which isn't intimately familiar with manga or anime, and which a broadcaster or streaming service would want to reach.

Luffy especially, at least going by the relatively tiny snippet we have seen so far, seems to have had some of his more peculiar edges sanded off to fit more comfortably into the mold of a typical young adult protagonist, which includes the... I guess what people call "marvel speak" now? The little funny quips and asides and ironic saying-the-obvious-thing-out-loud beats, which are more Americanisms than Marvel specific but I digress.

In One Piece, Luffy is most often not the point of view character, especially early on. Luffy is usually observed from outside by other characters - Koby serves this role in the early chapters, and from then on usually we see Luffy through his crew, or through whatever secondary characters they're interacting with in that particular arc.

People have observed this before, but in the manga, we essentially NEVER get any internal monologue from Luffy, he always either SAYS what he's thinking, or he runs on head empty no thoughts just vibes instinct and gut reaction.

And that... probably doesn't really work with a typical young adult protagonist. If adapted faithfully to screen, I think a lot of audiences would read him as just a reckless, inconsiderate and kinda heartless asshole, because a framing and presentation of Luffy that makes sense in a manga or anime just doesn't read the same in live action filmmaking.

Like, One Piece opens with Luffy recklessly sailing off to sea despite having no idea how to sail, getting sucked into a whirlpool and surviving on sheer dumb luck, getting picked up by some pirates in a barrel. Then he meets an abused child named Koby who has been getting the shit kicked out of him daily for months and immediately calls him a clumsy, stupid, cowardly worthless loser to his face and laughs at him.

Like, if you adapted that faithfully, how would that come across to a general audience? Imagine this scene staged in live-action, with human actors having to portray this conversation rather than stylized cartoon people. It simply wouldn't come across the same way, Luffy would come across as an It's Always Sunny character at best. Why would a general audience sympathize with him? Why would they find him compelling or worth investing emotionally in?

And I'm not saying there aren't ways to adapt One Piece faithfully into live action, there absolutely are (much like the manga, I would make everyone ELSE the point-of-view characters looking AT Luffy rather than try and present him as a Likeable Protagonist, for example).

My point is just that in any translation into live action, there are going to be concessions to the medium, there are going to be concessions to film language, concessions to audience expectations, concessions to the market conditions, concessions to the studio funding the filming, and so on. That's just the nature of the endeavour.

When it's done well, you get an adaptation that preserves the spirit of the thing while fitting its medium. Lord of the Rings comes to mind, an adaptation which changed huge amounts from its source material, but preserved the spirit.

When it's done poorly you get... well, Cowboy Bebop on Netflix.

I don't know from the tiny trailer snippet we've seen whether this show will preserve the spirit of One Piece, it very well may not, and end up another victim on the pile of bad anime adaptations. But I don't think the fact that it changed the vibe of the characters or Main Character'd Luffy alone are reasons to dismiss it, at least not yet. Those might have been necessary concessions for the show to work in live action at all. We shall see.

I'm not super optimistic or excited (because, again, I remember Cowboy Bebop), but I'm not despairing of it yet either.

#tb answers #one piece #one piece netflix #netflix one piece #luffy

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zvtara-was-never-canon · 7 months ago

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So did season 3 Zuko genuinely believe Ozai loved Azula? Is that why he was okay with ratting her out to him with no fear of what he might do to her?

Zuko is a 16-year-old boy that was a victim of abuse pretty much his entire life. It took him THREE WHOLE YEARS to realize that their father disfiguring and banishing him for speaking out of turn/against a cruel plan, and refusing to fight him, was, in fact, a deeply horrible thing for Ozai to do and it was all Ozai's fault.

Is it fair or realistic to expect him to understand that, even though Azula managed to live up to Ozai's insane expectations for his children, it was still unfair of him to put so much pressure on her and that it was only a matter of time before she cracked under it? Can we really blame him for not realizing Azula is being psychologically abused when she's in denial about it herself and actively trying to convince everyone around her that everything she does is effortless? And when the adults he actually trusts, aka his mother and uncle, are ALSO not aware of what's going on right in front of their faces?

Can we blame a child who is desperate to get even the slightest bit of approval and affection from his parent, and never achieving it, for thinking their sibling has an easier, enviable life because they ocasionally get some conditional love?

Can we expect someone who just heard their parent say the words "Your sister was born lucky, you were lucky to be born" to just casually ignore that very clear "I wish you were dead, you don't deserve to exist" and focus only on the implications of "Wait, is he dismissing my sibling's life-long attempts, and success, of living up to his expectations as sheer dumb luck, not hard work and genuine talent?"

I've said once, I'll say it again: Zuko's attempts to survive all the trauma he endured are basically the same as someone who is panicking while drowning and trying to pull under the person that is trying to rescue them because they cannot think clearly in such a dire situation.

It's no coincidence that the two main moments in which we see him having compassion for Azula (in The Southern Raiders and then in the finale post Agni Kai) take place AFTER he has turned his back on Ozai and found a group of people who love and support him. He is now watching the situation from the outside, from a safe distance, not while in the middle of all the chaos, unsure if he's gonna make it.

And for the first time, Zuko can actually see his sister. A prodigy, but still someone that is trying to meet impossible standards. A brave, fierce, DANGEROUS warrior, but also a deeply traumatized child.

There's a reason Aaron Ehasz, the head-writter and executive producer of the show, has repeatedly said that, if Avatar had gotten a fourth season, he would have liked Zuko to essentially be Azula's Iroh and help her heal and redeem herself. He is literally the only other person in the world that knows what being Ozai's child is like, even if he was the scapegoat while she was the golden child.

#fire siblings #zuko meta #azula meta

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an-idyllic-novelist · 2 years ago

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Hi, could I request for a Lady Tamayo!Reader paired with Buddha?

This reader was revived by Brunhilde to be the doctor for the 13 champions and she's loyal (not too loyal) to her bc she saved her from her punishment from being a demon.

The scenario would be that they met when she treated him after his fight and they got to know each other after that?

Please and thank you

Here it is! Special thanks to @nixes-noxes for proofreading/editing to make sure that the characters weren’t OOC. Enjoy and have a lovely day/evening!

Warnings: manga spoilers

Buddha was…a difficult patient. Despite all of the odds that were stacked against him in his fight with Zero, he won. Yet his victory for humanity isn’t an excuse to sneak out of his room to bask underneath the canopy of his bodhi tree and enjoy a passing breeze with sun shining down from the sky.

That is one of the reasons why Brunhilde had summoned Lady [First Name] [Last Name] from Helheim despite being a demon; before she had been killed by Muzan after drugging him with an elixir during their confrontation in the Infinity Castle, Lady [First Name} had been a doctor. Together with her companion Yushiro, she helped as many humans as she could with their alignments,including those who had been afflicted with Muzan’s poisonous blood and became flesh-eating demons.

In retrospect, dying to give the Demon Slayers a chance to destroy the man who had ruined her human life wasn’t a terrible thing…but Lady [First Name] had not expected to wake up in a dark wasteland teeming with demons that were just as dangerous, if not more, than the demon king himself. It was through sheer dumb luck that she had survived for so long until the Valkyrie had brought from her ‘punishment’ and offered her the position of being humanity’s chief physician in the medical wing.

It did not take the young woman very much time to give Brunhilde an answer. At this point anything was better than being stuck in Helheim. Disinfecting wounds, monitoring a patient’s health, and making sure that they are being properly fed? Yes. She can do that.

But the demon did not recall that being the ‘chief physician’ also meant chasing after a stubborn god.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Lady [First Name] walked up the steep grassy hill as best as she could in her [Favorite Color] kimono and zori sandals till she was standing right behind Buddha, munching on snacks that she specifically recalled telling him to cut back on until he was ready for the next stage of his treatment.

“Why am I not surprised to find you here, my lord?”

“Should ya even be surprised anymore, doc?” Buddha snarked back, unwrapping a candy bar and throwing it in his mouth. “Besides, do you really believe I’d miss an opportunity to get some fresh air?”

She frowned. “I never said that there was a problem with being outside, Lord Buddha. In fact, it is supposed to improve your sleep, cognition, and overall well-being rather than being confined indoors all of the time. I did, however, say that you can but it would be in everyone’s benefit to inform myself or the staff that you wish to go outside instead of sneaking out. Lady Brunhilde was quite upset when she came to the medical wing earlier this afternoon to find out that you were…missing.”

“Bruni will be fine, she’s a lot tougher than she looks, believe me. Let her focus on the eighth round. I might have won but we still need more wins if the gods’ll leave the humans alone. More importantly,” He glanced over his shoulder, a single aquamarine orb staring right at her. “Do I even know you?”

Lady [First Name] tilted her head, staring at him for a moment before smiling softly. It appears that Lady Brunhilde was not joking when she had casually mentioned just how laid-back Buddha is…or simply doesn’t give a shit about anyone. The Valkyrie’s words, not hers, thank you very much. But being a doctor secretly researching demonic transformations or performing blood transfusions did not have its own issues. She also had to handle human patients too. Inhaling a deep breath through her nostrils, she calmed her anger before answering Buddha.

“All you need to know is that my job is to ensure the mental and physical health of all humanity’s champions, Lord Buddha. It goes against my oath as a doctor to force a patient to do something against their will. In this scenario, however, I offer…an ultimatum.” She paused, staring at the blonde-haired deity. Since Buddha didn’t interrupt nor look away, the demon took this as a cue to elaborate.

“I will speak to the staff and allow you to lounge outside here or in the greenhouse until a fixed time. When that time is up, you must return to your room and rest. Yes, this is a curfew, but this is the best that I can offer you right now. You may no longer be in critical condition, though there is a chance that your health or recovery might have some setbacks.”

She could tell immediately that Buddha wasn’t too thrilled with this restriction. No one likes having someone hovering over their shoulder or counting down the minutes until they have to go back to their room when all they want is a little time to themselves before running through medical tests for the nth time of the day.

“Is there any chance you can include snacks-”

“That will be taken into consideration once your bloodwork comes back, Lord Buddha.” Lady [First Name] chuckled, witnessing one of the most powerful gods pouting petulantly like a child. Shaking her head, she decided to do something that she hadn’t done in all of her years of practicing medicine: she sat next to him under the bodhi tree, paying no heed to getting grass stains on her kimono as she stared up at the floating islands of Valhalla in comfortable silence.

He did not say anything….that was progress. Maybe?

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #kny tamayo #snv x reader #snv buddha #request #my writing #tamayo!reader #lady tamayo #tamayo demon slayer

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wisteriainslumber · 1 year ago

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"Get me out of here!"

aka the twst girlies surviving an escape room in honour of me being the most unhelpful person in escape rooms

warnings: swearing and book 6 spoilers in regards to ortho

first years

has the highest possibility of succeeding

it sure wouldn't look like it though

in the middle of their allotted hour, they suggested to sacrifice grim

which yuu stopped by distracting them with a loooooong story of how they are a long lost octuplet

legit no one knows if yuu is being FR or not bc it sounds so unbelievable but their facial expressions suggest they're being so deadass abt it

unanimous decision to push ace into the coffin and started holding hands and chanting

low and behold, the weight in the coffin triggered a mechanism and they accidentally solved the puzzle into the next room

here's another example, where there was a bunch of clocks on the wall w/ different times and epel joked that it looks like the heartslabyul dorm (bc of the million staircases)

and while deuce and ace were telling stories about the amount of freshmen that fell off those staircases (rip), jack stared a lil harder and figured out a password for a lock that way

the first thought that occurs is to pick the locks

they got the shit scared out of them from the game master's voice in the walkie talkie telling them to solve it properly bc dude... don't do that??/

ortho detects hidden walls and rooms before the game even starts but he doesnt speak of them

he'll always be hovering around them though and stares directly into the security cameras

sebek is so stressed bc this space is so small and so hot. AND HES GONNA BE STUCK HERE FOR AN HOUR

jack is infected by the stress radiating off sebek for the same reasons but also bc he can hear jamil and riddle going awfff on their group in the other room and it is really freaking distracting

ortho picks up the most useless, disconnected keyboard and started carrying it around for funsies (its like so outdated and he wants to show it to idia to laugh at it) before the walkie-talkie kindly asked them to put it back because it's not a clue

epels mind is in the right place, trying to find patterns in the titles of the bookshelf, but they're really just there for decoration

grim's floor sniffing habit comes in so handy rn bc he's finding things under beds and in drawers

there is a piano in their room and aside from grim stomping on the keys, epel played hot cross buns, thinking he was the only one who knew how to play, then yuu, our champion, comes in playing some classical backing music

it shocked sebek so much that yuu was practically a music god, then asked them to play some mozart, and again, got the piss scared out of them

a loud thunk and bam, accidentally unlocked another hidden room

ace and deuce were in a competition of who could find the hints the fastest and tragically they were the two that didn't find any hints at all

in short, it was sheer dumb luck that got them out

8/10, if only it wasn't for sebek breaking down near the end of the hour because he got his hand stuck in a box and started panicking

because they were the first to finish, they were allowed to look at how the second and third years were doing and damn, they had such a big laugh about it

aka it turned into a dorm thing

second years

there are many brilliant minds in this group which would make them a very good contender for getting out

unfortunately they are smart individually but extremely dumb when together

they started handcuffed to each other and surprisingly no one really minds it

like, it's not maaaajorly distracting like they can get things done without too much struggle

and silver insists that its good to have a buddy system in case they get lost, you know, inside a very unspacious room

only downside is that sometime there will be some squabbles about someone yanking too hard but overall they're very peaceful

ruggie will be carrying all the random objects they manage to uncover in case they're needed (aka azul keeps passing over random objects for ruggie to hold— he thinks that they are clues)

mostly because kalim was supposed to, but he left them all over the place and forgot about them while trying to solve puzzles

jade, his handcuff buddy, is seeing all this happen but does he grab the misplaced items? no lmao

instead kalim's the button pusher bc he wants to be useful but sometimes he presses the wrong buttons because its so dARK, WHY IS IT SO DARK???

jamil gets so pissy that u practically couldn't see shit, so he climbed on floyd's shoulders to go fix the fucking lights

floyd complained a lot because jamil's constant reaching felt like he was personally trying to tear his arm off by the socket

silver gets so into the scenario that the escape room assigned so he's on Full Survival Mode

constantly gets on the floor to look for clues underneath things too

everyone should pray that there aren't live actors jumping out or anything because he hears Person In Distress and it's actually on sight because he has a duty to protecc

riddle is hella mad about being constantly dragged onto the floor because OW???

azul and ruggie are constantly ransacking the room for items that may be useful

what was that? useful to the puzzle? absolutely not. they're looking for things that are useful to themselves; being useful to escaping is only a bonus

the severed prop arm ruggie found was probably of no use but he's carrying it anyway just because he can

riddle and azul are the (self-proclaimed) 'designated' logic problem solvers but they overthink it way too much

its actually jade and ruggie that do most of the problem solving bc they actually know how to work in group settings

but don't be fooled, jamil finds out first, but he never explicitly states it. he just nudges people in the right direction

being trapped in a room with the most insufferable people he's met? no thank you. he wants to gtfo as fast as he can w the least attention to himself

kalim and floyd just press and touch everything and somehow end up solving a puzzle together

silver ends up solving the puzzles pertaining to colour or order

riddle makes the most comments about how none of these things are historically accurate, but also ends up being the least helpful sjdhghjk

he keeps getting hooked on the wrong detail and that derails things

azul takes a dig at how riddle is focusing too much on a useless thing but ends up being equally derailed by the wrong detail

if given flashlights, kalim keeps fidgeting with it and is happy to be everyone's lamp

they could be in the middle of solving a puzzle and at the same time, someone will be revealing a childhood story and they all end up bonding

until someone decides its time for a Jokey-Joke and end up revealing some craaaazy trauma story and the whole group goes quiet for a little bit

(aka kalim did this unknowingly)

after getting out, the staff informed the group that they couldve freed themselves from the handcuffs by following the first clue

(they started from the second one because azul unknowingly swiped the first clue for ruggie go hoard ajdkkvkf)

also the staff thanked jamil for fixing the lights and a few mechanisms and gave the entire group a discount ojhfkkdlf

so sorry jamil, even more attention has been drawn to u

6/10 teamwork makes the dream work but they're only good at being friends not teams

third years

everyone and their mother knows this group does not make it out (alive)

when they're ushered into the room and told the premise, lilia, cater, and leona are already laughing and making fun of the scenario

as soon as the group is told to open their eyes, rook, malleus, and vil start commenting on the decor and atmosphere

idia just wants to win but he and trey both agree that their current group is doomed

(also no one knows what the scenario is bc they kept talking over it)

trying to get the keycard out of some locked box was their first puzzle

malleus is three seconds away to tearing the door off his hinges when rook gleefully proclaims he's found the key in one of the prop toilets

when everyone starts looking for clues, there's constant insults being flown around of how 'the drawer is out of bounds, stop trying to open it' or 'stop looking there, we're supposed to solve this puzzle first'

and yes they use their only clues on the first freaking puzzle bc no one knows what the hell is going on and then in later puzzles they keep blaming and arguing that SOMEONE used up all their clues on the first freaking puzzle

any sort of corpse or decaying statue will have at least two people pointing at it and claiming 'its you'

in fact, cater starts carrying the supposed possessed doll because it kinda looked like lilia

idia was laughing his ass off at this before mal got pissy at him & twisted off a mannequins hand and freaked out both idia and cater with a severed hand

rook ends up cuddling with the horror prop before lilia wanted a turn

at another point, he yanked off a bolted lock since it was getting in the way, and about half the group freaked out bc why??!? why did you do that?!?!

cater lap dances the statue, which then vil criticized by saying "put more back into it"

the weight shift caused the statue to light up

when finally being presented a clue that they had to crawl a tunnel to get to, everyone told lilia to get down, and ofc he just squatted and this LOUD crack came from his joints so trey felt bad enough to the point where he crawled in instead

then rook starting carrying the prop skeleton everywhere. it's his ventriloquist arc

the counter for the most 'IDIOT's being thrown around goes to this group

seven forbid there is an old computer that pertains to a puzzle because malleus would suggest to use magic to shock it into working every ten seconds

lilia and leona end up trying to guess the password while everyone else was looking for clues

idia would insult the computer like how is this fossil still up and running?

they were supposed to find the keyboard but idia Knows His Stuff and used the on-screen keyboard to push in the password

around half an hour in, malleus got bored and started speaking in his mother tongue

lilia started communicating in hisses and clicks, which the rest of them believed was a response to malleus (its not, but mal responded in the same fashion although no one, not even the speakers, knew what the other was saying)

in the other room, you will hear rook and cater singing a duet just to have something to do and every time a new song starts, a shoe will be thrown at the pair

i'd give them like a 2/10 because, honestly, they only solved like 2 puzzles, and that's only because of cater fooling around for one of them, and the other was because leona & idia were so freaking mad at being stuck in the first room that they solved it just to get a second room to themselves

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unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240 · 1 year ago

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So here I am, unable to sleep again, because of the horrifying attack on Israel.

The stories keep coming out and for every new detail I find out, another part of my soul shatters.

[***massive trigger warning for the rest***]

I feel like I'm living in a parallel world to everyone who is not affected by this situation. It's been surreal to go about my work day and regular life as if the images of blood-soaked cradles, burned corpses, raped and wounded women, captives of all ages being taken away on vehicles, video of a small child being taunted for crying for his mother, body bags lined up in rows on the ground, torched cars and homes, and the raw grief of the surviving family members aren't burned onto the backs of my eyelids.

One account I read from a family member of the deceased was that she was beaten, raped in multiple ways and sticks shoved into each place, and left for dead. Another I came across spoke of a small child being forced to watch his parents tortured, killed, and hacked apart. Still another I saw was a report of several children bludgeoned to death so as not to "waste the bullets."

How can I possibly begin to process this?

These people look just like the people in my communities and the friends I've made across the sea. They have my Hebrew teacher's hair, my rabbi's cheekbones, they sound like the shinshinim kids we have each year. They look like the baby nephews of my fellow congregants. I could have davened next to any of them and never known. It is only sheer dumb luck that I don't personally know someone who has died or lost close family.

There has been a pit of dread in my stomach since Shimini Atzeret that will not go away. I find myself on the verge of tears at all times, yet have not been able to actually cry (which is not a good sign; an inability to express sadness in tears is a known post-trauma response for me) and I cannot rest normally. Sometimes I can distract myself for a bit, but the pain and grief rush back in immediately when I remember.

I can feel, in real time, this Jewish cultural trauma sinking into my bones.

And you might think I might be able to separate myself from it since I'm not there and don't have family there. But I can't, because I don't want to. I can't, because some tether bound me forever to the land as soon as my feet hit the ground there, and some part of my soul stayed behind when I left. I don't want to, because these are my people and so they are my adoptive family, even if I do not know them. I am my brother's keeper.

And so here I stand, half a world away from the danger, nervous and scared and grieving, searching our perfectly blue sky for signs of missiles that are not falling here and being startled constantly by the normal and unbroken landscape. The lush beauty of Midwestern autumn woods is juxtaposed in my mind with Middle Eastern walls painted in the blood of my people and their broken bodies beneath them. I see it in the waking light of day as clear as anything in front of me, and walk around like a person divided, in both places at once yet not being fully present in either. I cannot unsee it.

How can I possibly explain this? To myself? To the people actually having to live this nightmare? To the other people removed from the immediate physical danger but who do have blood relatives and/or other family there that they're just praying stay safe and come home at the end of the day? That they are constantly checking their phones for updates or even minimal signs that they're still alive?

The words fail me, but I the closest thing I have to an answer is love. I love my people and I would rather absorb this pain with them and carry it in my soul forever than look away from Jewish suffering. That is a promise I made by joining this people, that my fate would forever be bound up in the collective fate of klal Yisrael. Wherever you go, I will go; wherever you stay, I will stay; your people shall be my people, and your G-d my G-d. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried. Thus and more may Hashem do to me if anything but death parts me from you.

אַל־תִּפְגְּעִי־בִ֔י לְעׇזְבֵ֖ךְ לָשׁ֣וּב מֵאַחֲרָ֑יִךְ כִּ֠י אֶל־אֲשֶׁ֨ר תֵּלְכִ֜י אֵלֵ֗ךְ וּבַאֲשֶׁ֤ר תָּלִ֙ינִי֙ אָלִ֔ין עַמֵּ֣ךְ עַמִּ֔י וֵאלֹהַ֖יִךְ אֱלֹהָֽי׃ בַּאֲשֶׁ֤ר תָּמ֙וּתִי֙ אָמ֔וּת וְשָׁ֖ם אֶקָּבֵ֑ר כֹּה֩ יַעֲשֶׂ֨ה יְהֹוָ֥ה לִי֙ וְכֹ֣ה יוֹסִ֔יף כִּ֣י הַמָּ֔וֶת יַפְרִ֖יד בֵּינִ֥י וּבֵינֵֽךְ׃

[רות א]

I do not take that lightly, and I feel it in my bones. Some core part of me shattered at the same time as the rest of my community.

I cannot, and I will not look away. I will not close my heart or shield myself from this tragedy. And I will not forget.

עַ֥ל נַהֲר֨וֹת ׀ בָּבֶ֗ל שָׁ֣ם יָ֭שַׁבְנוּ גַּם־בָּכִ֑ינוּ בְּ֝זׇכְרֵ֗נוּ אֶת־צִיּֽוֹן׃ עַֽל־עֲרָבִ֥ים בְּתוֹכָ֑הּ תָּ֝לִ֗ינוּ כִּנֹּרוֹתֵֽינוּ׃ כִּ֤י שָׁ֨ם שְֽׁאֵל֪וּנוּ שׁוֹבֵ֡ינוּ דִּבְרֵי־שִׁ֭יר וְתוֹלָלֵ֣ינוּ שִׂמְחָ֑ה שִׁ֥ירוּ לָ֝֗נוּ מִשִּׁ֥יר צִיּֽוֹן׃ אֵ֗יךְ נָשִׁ֥יר אֶת־שִׁיר־יְהֹוָ֑ה עַ֝֗ל אַדְמַ֥ת נֵכָֽר׃ אִֽם־אֶשְׁכָּחֵ֥ךְ יְֽרוּשָׁלָ֗͏ִם תִּשְׁכַּ֥ח יְמִינִֽי׃ תִּדְבַּֽק־לְשׁוֹנִ֨י ׀ לְחִכִּי֮ אִם־לֹ֢א אֶ֫זְכְּרֵ֥כִי אִם־לֹ֣א אַ֭עֲלֶה אֶת־יְרוּשָׁלַ֑͏ִם עַ֝֗ל רֹ֣אשׁ שִׂמְחָתִֽי׃

[תהלים קלז]

#personal post #not trying to claim that I am in any way affected at the level others are #most other people are way more directly affected than me and I don't intend this to take that focus away from them #this is more of a diary post than anything #but I'm posting it anyway because I suspect others feel similarly and I do think it's one (of many) conversations that should be had #ארץ ישראל #jumblr

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fleet-of-fiction · 11 months ago

Text

Jake Kiszka // Female Narrator

Part Three

After a blinding light eradicates mankind, you're left in a desolate and empty world. A year of solitude eliminates all belief that anyone else was left behind. Until a chance encounter on the side of the road. Jake is injured and fighting for his life, but his presence brings a renewed sense of hope. Touch starved and lonely, you need him. And undoubtedly, he needs you too.

"It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

Explicit sexual content Sex (penetrative & oral) /Foreplay /Blood / Injury / Hunting. / Intense emotions / Death.

Day 410 ~ Jake

Her eyes drifted up from the board. An air of concentration furrowed between her brows and the tip of her tongue which sat delicately at the edge of her teeth.

"Check mate!" She announced, knocking my piece off the board with a look of devilish satisfaction.

"Beginners luck." I replied, sending a hand to my ribcage to rub an ache I suspected would always trouble me from now on.

The snow had fallen in earnest. A blanket of dazzling white covered the ground, powdered flakes falling off the canopy of trees around us made for a spectacle when the sun peeked out from behind clouds. It was the first real beauty I'd taken note of in what felt like a very long time.

"And what if I told you that I was a secret master? That I'd been dumbing down my abilities all this time just so that I didn't demasculate you over a game of chess?" She gloated, raising an eyebrow as she waited for me to make my next move.

She reminded me of a sunset. With a touch of copper in her hair and those damned freckles on her nose. She had all the hope of a beautiful end and that it would bring something as equally beautiful in the morning.

"I didn't have you down as a liar." I replied, scanning the board for something that would knock her off her winning streak.

She folded her hands beneath her chin and leaned her elbows onto the edge of the kitchen table. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Jake."

I didn't doubt that. But I was sincerely grateful for the things which I had learned over the past few days. She'd carefully guided me around the entire place, shown me how everything worked and where the source of all the power came from. How to maintain all the power sources and what to do in the event of any of them breaking down.

There was a bank of solar panels on the cabin roof, flanked by a couple of small turbines. They were hooked up to a battery which powered the entire place. There was a small out house around the back, a few old generators were sat in there gathering dust in case of an emergency but she assured me the solar and wind provided more than enough for the entire place to run off for another decade.

These were things that I felt as if I should've known. Things that felt fundamental to survival. As if somehow it'd been wrong to live in a house that was attached to a network that relied on manpower to keep going. The foolishness of it.

Even the polytunnels where the vegetables grew made me feel as if I'd been missing the point entirely every time I'd walked into a grocery store. There were chickens kept in a coop, and there were two horses in a small stable on the other side of the trees. Because, apparently, someday the fuel was going to turn bad. She talked at great length about how she had no idea how to get the horses to mate, in the event of their untimely deaths she didn't want be left without transportation.

These were things I hadn't considered. Things which made me feel a little stupid when she pointed them out to me. My eyes widening in slight horror at the sheer expanse of pickled foods and canned goods kept in what she liked to call the "store". It was a small shelter, dug into the ground and covered in mossy earth to the untrained eye. But inside there was every non perishable and medical supply you could think of. Put there by her Grandma, in the event of the government falling to into it's own pit of destruction, or so her Grandma explained it.

The stark realisation that my life had been filled with convenient privilege was not lost upon me. I watched her muck out the horses and feed the chickens, tend to her plants and make sure the store was stocked up making mental notes of each little thing she did. Hoping that when the time came, I'd be able to be of some use to her.

"I know you're not a chess master." I hummed, tipping over her Bishop with my Queen. "Check mate?"

She leaned back in defeat. Chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tried not to react. The board looked a little chaotic now, with pieces in places I had no idea what to do with. I had minimal knowledge of the game and I suspected she was trying in vain to keep it going.

"You're a dark horse." She ruminated, trying to step over the impasse we'd arrived at. "I can't imagine we'll complete this before sunrise."

What did it matter? Time was our greatest thief. And yet, it was slowly becoming our greatest asset. We had time to sit and play chess, time to sit and read. Time to take walks in the woodland and drive into the empty streets of Roanoke to go in search for supplies.

The world was gently eroding back to nature. Something I'd barely noticed over the passing of the last year. Maybe I'd been so hell bent on finding another living soul that I'd forgotten to take in what was around me. With Amelia, it was starting to feel like I had woken up from a deep and dreamless sleep.

I was about to consider my next move when she shoved the board aside.

"How about that whiskey?" She asked, a flash of mischief in her eyes that I'd never seen before. "You're done with your antibiotics now."

The wind howled outside. Another flurry of snow in the air. The animals were fed and watered. I felt a churn of something deep within, like the stirrings of Christmas morning as a child. Like everything was precisely as it should be.

Everything was ok.

"You might not like me when I'm drunk." I warned, allowing a hint of playfulness to slip out. "I have this terrible penchant for speaking in a British accent."

She grabbed a bottle of something dark from the cupboard beneath the sink. Hooking two small glasses between her fingers from the cupboard above.

"That's the alcohol influencing the broca's area of your brain." She explained, pouring out two generous shots. "The part which perceives speech is impended. Although the accent thing is weird, I'd quite like to hear it."

There was a little curl in her lip as she clinked her glass against mine.

"You're so smart." I told her, "You make me feel like I was just travelling towards a destination with my eyes closed."

Immediately she brushed a dismissive hand through the air. Curling up her legs to sit with them crossed in the little dining chair, nursing her glass as she watched the brown liquid roll around the crystal edges.

"I think we were both entirely different people before." She said warmly, "If we had known what was to come, would we have lived our lives any differently?"

I sank my drink and leaned my hand out for a refill. "My life wasn't ordinary, even back then."

There'd been so many reasons why we hadn't talked like this before. Her initial reluctance had taken time to thaw. The silence we'd become accustomed to seemed so much safer to dwell in.

I was starting to lose count of the days I'd been with her. I was entirely distracted with surviving and being of service to her. Getting myself well enough to pitch in and not be a burden. The way she had given me purpose again made me want to live in this empty world. It made me not want to be anywhere else, with anyone else.

"I guess we haven't really touched on that, yet." She replied sheepishly, almost as if she didn't want to go there. "It almost seems irrelevant, doesn't it?"

She sank back another shot. Wincing as the burn slid down the back of her throat. Her nose wrinkled, all those freckles converging. For a moment I could forget that once there'd been another woman in my life.

"We both lost people we loved." I countered, taking the bottle for myself and pouring my glass almost full. "It's not relevant now, but I still miss them. I don't know how to stop missing them."

She didn't say anything for what felt like too long a period of silence. Where usually it was solidly comfortable, I could feel her unease at the presence of the ghosts of those we loved. Their names on the tips of our tongues.

"I don't think we're meant to. I think we're meant to miss them for the rest of our lives. Maybe that's our cross to bear. For whatever this life now brings." She replied, our mutual sadness at that thought evident in the way her eyes glossed over.

I didn't want her to cry. I couldn't bear to see her cry. It made me want to throw all my resolve away and take her into my arms whether she would have me or push me away. It made me want to make a fool of myself.

"I don't think we should play chess anymore." I suggested, "It makes us melancholy."

I clocked the bottle and it was already half empty.

"I don't think it's the chess." She slurred a little, gesturing to the snowy expanse outside. "I don't think I've seen this much snow for this long in my life, ever."

I could feel the heat of the whiskey in my blood as I stood. Taking my time to stroll over to the kitchen window. Trying to make myself appear steadier than I felt.

"Maybe the climate is changing."

Her face remained still. It took me a moment to notice that she wasn't responding. When I chanced a glance over at her, she was chewing the inside of her cheek. Lost in a thought I couldn't follow her into.

"What is it?" I dared to ask.

"They won't be here to see it." She replied quietly, a solitary tear betraying her. "They won't be here to see any more sunrises. Or the way that grass is starting to grow in all the pot holes that were left. And they'll never see the snow on the ground again. I hope..."

She swallowed hard, taking the bottle and foregoing the glass entirely. Swigging it back, like she couldn't stand to measure it out anymore.

"What do you hope?" I asked.

There was a longing there in her face that wasn't there before. Subsequent tears spilling down her red cheeks. Her skin all blotchy from the drink and the roaring fire.

"Wherever they are..." She sobbed. "I hope there's snow."

If we didn't speak their names, how could we honour them? If I was doomed to spend the rest of my life missing them, their names would never be forgotten anyway. They deserved to be spoken. They deserved to be memorialised. If they were dead, we couldn't go to their graves and weep. If they were alive, there were no roads we could find that would lead us to them. Speaking of them was all we had.

"Josh loved snow." I offered, returning to the table as slowly as I could. "We used to get a lot of it in winter where we grew up. Our parents used to make us go out back and chop wood and we'd have these huge bonfires and burn all the crap we didn't need for next summer. When we got a little older, our little brother Sam would have to come with us and we'd make him do all the hard labour. And he'd stand there and complain that it wasn't fair and we'd spin him a yarn about how he used to get to sit in the house all nice and warm while we did it and he wasn't a baby any more. Our sister never had to it, though. Her name was Veronica. She would sometimes come outside and hang out with us, though. She was cool like that."

I hadn't said their names in so long it was like resurrecting them. When I looked up from my faraway gaze, she wasn't crying anymore. There was this look of inherent surprise. Like she hadn't expected me to offload a childhood memory so freely. I could see a glimmer of hope where the tears had once been.

"Josh was your brother?" She ventured.

"Twin." I nodded, "He and I were the eldest. Then Veronica. Then little Sammy."

I probably shouldn't have, but I let her slide the bottle over towards me. Enough left for one more sip. I could feel myself on the fringes of being drunk, I knew one more would tip me over the edge.

"I had two brothers." She sniffed, wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her t-shirt. "I was the middle child. My older brother, Deacon, he was like eight years older than me. I'm not sure my parents planned on having more than one but I guess nothing really goes to plan in life, does it? My little brother, Charlie, he was only two years younger."

Charlie. The little toy chest in my room still had his name carved in it. For her, they weren't just names to be said in remembrance. They were real, solid echoes still bouncing off these walls. I felt this uncontrollable need to close the distance between us. To hold her like I had when she'd screamed in the night.

"It didn't stop us from fighting, though." Her eyes lit up. "Deacon would always have to be the voice of reason, but every now and then he would come down to our level and bicker with us about something until our Dad had to step in. Our Mom was always a little more laid back, I think it was because she was raised here at the cabin. My Dad grew up in Silicon Valley. He had vacations in Europe and country club memberships. My Mom had yearly road trips to Virginia beach in a beaten up Volkswagen my Grandpa drove into the ground. Deacon was the first person in her family to graduate college."

And just like that, the fire went out again.

"So your Dad was rich?" I poked at the embers, hoping to see the spark in her come back.

She shrugged. "His family were. All surgeons and lawyers and ceo's. I think he probably would've lived that textbook rich white guy life if he hadn't met my Mom. She kept him grounded. We were never allowed to exploit our wealth, we had to do volunteer work and give generously to charities. We had to go to college and get our own jobs and careers, there were no hand outs. But I guess you could say we were privileged. But never spoiled. Not when we used to spend summers here, with our Grandparents."

I could have listened to her all night. "What was that like?"

She uncrossed her legs and inspected the empty bottle. Her eyes were half closed, lids fluttering up and down slowly in a drunken haze.

"It was like fucking Disneyland." She smiled, then. "My friends all went off to ski in Aspen or whatever. We got sent here to hunt squirrels with my Grandpa and bake pies with my Grandma. And toast marshmallows on the fire every night. They'd let us go swimming in the lake until sunset, taught us everything we needed to know about living in the woods. And every time we had to go back to California, it always felt like I was stepping back into something I didn't really feel a part of."

She looked up at me from her inspection of the empty bottle. As if she'd forgotten that I was sat there at all.

"What was your life like?" She asked, scuttering off to the cupboard under the sink, falling almost as she slinked off the edge of her chair.

She waved a bottle of red wine at me, her lips flattening into a straight line as she settled on the floor.

"We don't have any wine glasses." She said flatly, "Can't drink wine without a wine glass."

I would have gone to her and picked her up off the ground. Helped her back to her seat, made her laugh if I could. Let her fall asleep on the couch in a delicious drunken heap, wrapped in the blankets she'd left me in when she'd saved my life. But she stumbled to her feet, giggling softly as she realised how quickly the whiskey had gone to her head.

"You need some help, there?" I asked, reaching out my hand for her to take.

"No, I'm good." She lied, "You just tell me your life story while I pour."

She filled our little crystal glasses to the brim, taking care to leave enough space at the top to allow for spillages. All regard for needing a wine glass dissipated.

"I was just a boy with a guitar from Michigan."

She stared at me with those hooded lids. Keeping her drink propped against her mouth, like I was weaving the most interesting tale she'd ever heard.

"Where's your guitar now?"

I hadn't anticipated how much that question would sting. I knew she noticed the way I backed away from it. She reached over the table and placed her palm on my forearm. Her thumb making soft movements against the scar which ran down the centre of my flesh.

"No...not without Josh..." I stammered, "I can't play..."

There was a real sympathy in the way her brows knitted together, squeezing my arm a little in silent comfort. She stayed like that, touching me innocently, as I tried to compel myself to bring together the story of my life. It felt like I was entirely detached from all of my memories somehow. As if recalling it from something I'd watched rather than experienced first hand. Like a fever dream.

One thing I knew for certain. One thing that struck me as the alcohol coursed through my veins. It didn't matter how many thousands of people I had played to. It did matter how many awards I'd won. None of it mattered a damn thing without my brothers. And I'd sworn never to play without them again.

Day 413 ~ Amelia

The rain began that night. Lashing against my bedroom window, forcing the snow to retreat. A part of me was relieved. That the snow would wash away and all the earth beneath it would be able to breathe again. Bringing a renewed hope for the coming spring. But it kept me awake. The deafening pitter patter against the old glass felt as if it was break at any moment. The rattle of the wind like ghosts through the cracks in the old wood.

Jake had been a formidable drinking partner. My head still aching somewhat from a hangover that had lasted three days. I bore no regret from it, though. The whiskey and wine had afforded me a courage I couldn't have found on my own. And the nightmares had been kept at bay too. Sleeping far too deep for any of those demons to penetrate.

My mouth was dry. Frustrated by the noise and the insomnia and the lingering consequences of my booziness I crawled out of bed and slipped into my robe. On soft tiptoes I crept out into the hallway, certain that the wind and rain would shroud my movements. But staying quiet just in case.

Down the hall Jake's bedroom door was ajar. A shard of low, golden light striking the hall in half. I'd expected him to be asleep, coming to know his sleeping habits in the days he'd been here. He was a night owl, often hearing him slip into bed hours after I'd retired. It was almost dawn, but still pitch enough that it felt like the dead of night.

It was in my mind to go downstairs and fetch a glass of water, to mind my business and leave him be. But the soft whimpers that cried out above the din of the wind called out to me. And I crept on silent feet down the hall, moving against all the intricacies of the floor boards I knew would creak and alert him to my presence.

It sounded like he was in pain. The way he'd recovered so quickly had been unusual, part of me had wondered if he'd tried to save face. If, when in private, he'd allowed himself moments to feel the pain of his healing injuries where I couldn't see him. But it wasn't pain.

It was pleasure.

I stood in the crack of his door. Sinful sounds coming from the bed. A rush of blood to my head made me weak at the knees. His hand was moving vigorously beneath the bed sheet. The sound of his voice, like that of a man who had known truly how to love a woman.

I closed my eyes and began to imagine hearing those melodic moans above me. A reminder that I'd long forgotten what it felt like to simply be a woman. In survival mode, there was no allowances for arousal. It had been gone from me, the desire to even touch myself. Every night I'd laid my head down and tried to rest until the sun came up. Never allowing myself to fall into that trap of desire. I was forever alone. There was nothing but grief each time my hand had travelled across my breasts. So I'd abandoned it. All hope that I'd ever feel want again.

Despite my eagerness to uphold his dignity, I couldn't find it within myself to move. Even when he grew too heated under the covers, kicking off his blanket to reveal the line of his body. I held my breath. Took note of the way his chest moved as he breathed harder, his stomach rising and falling. And the way he wrapped his hand around himself. Making gentle strokes that pulled on his shaft, revealing the flex of the muscles in his forearm.

I had no right to see this. I was the worst sort of voyeur. The sort that never made their presence known. If he had known would he have been angry? Humiliated? I couldn't tear my eyes from him. It was wrong, and it troubled me. The way I stood there and allowed the sight to make my core begin to throb. A heavy beat making me wet and swollen.

I stood there until he came into his palm. An agonizing groan signalling the end of his endurance. I watched the white, sticky mess spurt from his tip and spill down his fist. My hand pressed against my mound, not daring to trespass further. Not even underneath the fabric of my pyjama shorts. I was quietly hyperventilating, almost light headed from it as I watched him drag a hand towel down his softening cock and the back of his hand.

And just like that, he flicked off the lamp at his bed side and plunged the room into darkness. And I felt my own shame begin to rise in my cheeks as I stood there peering into the pitch black. Allowing the thunder which gathered overhead to shroud my footsteps as I retreated back up the hall way.

It was still raining when the sun came up. It drenched the daylight in a darkening grey and it didn't really feel as if the sun had come up at all. I busied myself with throwing down some chicken feed into the coop and gathering up some of the eggs which had been laid. I mucked out the horses and let them roam a little while I put down fresh bedding. Trying to keep my mind from returning to the thing I had done that morning.

He was a man who had been alone as long as I had. Clearly with a thirst which begged to be quenched. I was throwing down the bedding far more aggressively than I ever had before, torturing myself with thoughts that were unwelcome.

I didn't want him to kiss me, but why hadn't he tried? I didn't want him to fuck me, but why hadn't he tried? Why hadn't he even hinted at it? Or was his own hand a more preferable means to an end? Did he find me unattractive? Did I find him unattractive?

I cursed him as I shovelled the last of the bedding in, throwing my spade down as it clanged against the stable door. I hated myself for thinking such despicable things. All we had to do was survive. Nothing more. What did it matter if he satisfied himself behind a door I wasn't meant to be standing behind?

"There you are."

I spun on my heels. His hair was dripping, his shirt so wet that I could see right through it. A curious look on his face, like he'd been searching everywhere for me.

"Oh, hey." I replied, as nonchalantly as I could.

He looked into the clearing at the horses milling about, with no regard for the rain. They seemed to be enjoying being out of their confined space. And by all accounts, so did he.

"I woke up and you weren't there." He said, rain dripping off the tip of his nose.

"Yeah, I had stuff to do." I had already done it all, but I tried to make it appear as if I was still busy.

He watched me for a moment, his hair sticking to his collar bone and that stomach of his concaving as he breathed against the drenched shirt.

"Is it terrible that I didn't like it?" He asked, "I've grown fond of seeing you there drinking coffee at the kitchen table every morning."

How had I let this happen? This thing I swore I'd never let happen? How had he become so necessary to me and I to him? When he couldn't even bring himself to kiss me? Was it nothing more than a platonic fondness borne of this unwanted necessity? Was I a replacement for his mother or his sister?

"I've got shit to do, Jake. I'm sorry." I dismissed him, passing him as coldly as I could to fetch the horses in.

He would wonder why my temperature towards him had dropped. But I couldn't help it. I wanted to rid myself of this gnawing churn in my stomach that was forming each and every time I looked at him. Least of all now, when I knew the curve and shape of his cock and how he liked to stroke it so perfectly gently and firmly.

"Amelia..."

He would have one kind word from me.

"Jake, I don't have time for this nonsense." I spat, leading the other horse into shelter. "We're running low on fire wood and I need to do a supply run for toilet paper. There's two of us here now, you understand?"

I'd been initially standoffish and he could forgive me for that. We didn't know each other or our intentions. But it was clear I'd let my guard down somewhat, and I knew the way I spoke to him was a bolt from the blue. He couldn't understand my switch.

"You know I'll do anything to help." He said so apologetically my heart almost broke in two. "I can do more, now. I'm starting to feel stronger every day. And I promise... soon you won't have to do all this stuff on your own. I'll pull my weight. I'm sorry..."

I couldn't bear it. The way he looked at me. A solemn pleading in his eyes as I latched the stable door shut and we stood in the pouring rain staring each other down like a duel at high noon. The rain hit the canopy above so hard it sounded like static when the tv didn't have any signal.

"Why are you staying here, Jake?" I demanded, raising my voice above the crescendo of rain. "What is it for? Are you afraid to be alone again, is that it?"

He blinked at me. Water rushing so hard it even poured off his eyelashes. Torrential and hard, we stood there like statues letting it shower over us like it wasn't even there.

"Of course I'm afraid to be alone again, aren't you?!" He snapped back, drinking rain as he spoke. "But that doesn't mean I'd rather be with anyone else?! I don't want to go back out there and carry on looking, I've found what I was searching for! Don't you get that?!"

Someone to take the edge off his solitude. Nothing more and nothing less. And why should I be anything more to him? I didn't want him crawling under my skin any more than he already had. We would ride out this error in humanity's timeline. Help each other to survive. That was it.

"I don't know." I confessed, " I was fine before. I was doing just fine! And then you came along, literally crashed into my life! Like I needed the distraction? The pull on my resources?!"

I didn't mean it. I could feel myself filled with regret even as the words came out. He was shaking his head, his hair so wet it barely moved. The dark circles beneath his eyes seemed deeper somehow. And I knew that I'd hurt him by the way he couldn't seem to get his words out. He could only look at me and feel the knife in his back that I put there despite standing right in front of him.

"If you want me to leave I will leave."

And now because he wanted to. He would leave because I wanted him to. And now I wanted to scream at him and fall into his arms and throw away all my pretence and beg him to kiss me. Beg to know why he hadn't kissed me before. I hated feeling like this, I had never felt like this before. Not for a man, not for anyone. He stole all my resolve and I hated him for it. Hated myself for allowing him the strength to take it.

I could feel the sting of tears begin to spill over my lashes. The salty warmth of them in stark contrast to the cool rain.

"If you stay, you'll only grow to hate me." I sobbed, "You'll see that I'm not capable of letting you in."

"That's not true, Amelia." He replied, taking a bold step forward, reaching out for me before pulling back in case I rejected him. "I've seen your warmth and compassion. You're not cruel. I don't understand where all of this is coming from?"

I backed away. "I can't do this, Jake...I wont do this."

I retreated into the trees. Running through the mud and rain, letting it lash against the backs of my legs. I could scarcely see in front of my eyes, but I knew the way back blind. I could hear him calling out my name, unable to keep up with me. But he pursued me, regardless. With his healing bones, he ran behind me Begging me to stop.

"Amelia! Please!!!" He called, his voice fading out beneath the falling rain. "Stop! Please, don't do this!"

I reached the clearing at the front of the cabin. My body burning from the exertion and my breath caught in my lungs. Before I had chance to regain my composure, I felt his body against mine. Wet and solid. Heaving breaths as he spun me around, forcing me to look at him.

"Don't you run away from me like that again!"

He was furious. A rage the likes of which I'd never known could exist burning in the delicate tremble of his lip. I was too weak to protest.

"If you ever do that again I will always follow you, do you understand me?!" He shook me, hands wrapped around my shoulders as I gazed at the fire in his eyes. "I swear it, I'll follow you to the ends of the earth woman!!!"

Still, he wouldn't kiss me. Just let the rain fall upon us as he held me close. Breathing into my parted lips. Our shared breath turning to vapour in the freezing cold air.

"Because there's no one else to follow?" I said, my mouth desperately close to his.

"No." He replied harshly, turning his head to get a better look at me. "I had a girlfriend before all of this. We lived together in Nashville. She travelled with me when I had to go on tour. We were together for years. Maybe I would have married her, if I'd been given the chance."

"Why are you telling me this?!" I didn't want to hear it, I didn't want to hear about the way he had loved another.

"Because." He swallowed hard, "Even if she came back, even if she appeared to me right now like none of this had ever happened....I would still follow you."

I couldn't feel my fingers, or the tip of my nose. A flash of lightening streaked above, illuminating the darkness on the ground. For a moment his face lit up and I could see the conviction there.

He meant it.

But still, I wouldn't have it. "You don't know what you're saying."

"Oh, don't I?" He clenched his jaw. "You don't know a damn thing about what I know. You don't get to tell me how I feel. I might be afraid to be alone, but I'll do it if that's what you truly want. I'd leave just make you happy."

Nobody had ever held me like this. So securely. So aggressively soft. Like he could shake the life out of me if he so desired, but wouldn't.

"You wont even kiss me." I replied so pitifully, speaking so quietly a part of me hoped that he wouldn't hear me over the mounting thunder.

"And have you slap me across the face for taking such a thing?" He replied, almost laughing at me. "Would you have kissed me back if I had? I might not have kissed you yet, but I've imagined it. At night, when I know you're on the other side of that wall. And in the morning when you're sat at that table. I wanted to kiss you the other night when we got drunk and I could have used it as an excuse. Every time you wrinkle that nose and those freckles connect I want to kiss you. When you curl up by the fire to read, I want to kiss you. When I see you going out there to make sure the animals are safe, I want to kiss you. Ok?"

"Ok." I breathed, not an ounce of fight left in me.

He kissed me in the rain. In the storm that was brewing. His lips covered in raindrops and mine in tears. A kiss so desperate, so forcefully full of need I let him wrap his broken body around mine. I let him clutch me to him, whether it would hurt him or not. The heat of his tongue against mine was like the lightening had descended from the sky above and struck me where I stood. The gentle murmur of his whimpers in harmony with mine. I could feel his palm against my cheek, his thumb trespassing a slow stroke across it. I'd never been kissed like this before. Like I was in a black and white movie, my knee bent just a little to keep me from falling. He kissed me like he was starved. With gentle intention, but intensifying pressure as his tongue slipped further into my mouth. Until I was sucking on it, grappling at his shirt to tear it from his flesh.

"Fuck, ahhhh..." I stopped myself. "No, no... we can't..."

He was panting as he pulled away, his lips a little swollen from the pressure of being against mine.

"We don't have to, just don't push me away. Please? Don't do that... Sssshhh, come here..."

My eyes flitted over towards the store. Of all the medical supplies I'd sequestered, none of them included birth control. Something I never would have given any credence to before. But now I was dulled with the thought and the fear of him spilling inside me and putting a baby where there didn't need to be one. Not now.

"No, it's not that..." I clung to him. "I stopped taking my birth control. I didn't think I needed it..."

His face washed over with realisation. "Oh."

His smile was going to lead me down a murky path. I knew it. I would've died for the way he smiled at me in that moment. Like I was the sweetest thing alive.

"Not tonight, then." He whispered, his mouth moving against my ear. "Tonight, we can do other things."

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