#while i am excited for this story and ofc i am i'm interested enough to write it. i think at the end of the day it's an exploratory work

[ichorblossoms]

sitting here now that the script for when the smoke clears is basically done save for a few revisions bc now the next step is to Make The Comic

[ultraviolet-cello]

Day 8 of the tristamp analysis marathon and jesus christ i am!!! really excited to do these now because people have been adding onto/being nice abt my stuff and that's super cool. Thank you again to @tristampparty for running this! I didn't manage to join in on the book club last year so it's nice to have a fun little event all the same

[But as for next book club,,,, well. I'm extremely transgender about trimax and would love to join in]

As always, spoilers for trigun stampede and trigun maximum! Also some CWs for Vash-typical passive suicidal tendencies and discussion of his psyche

So! Episode 8! I have.... mixed feelings, on how Tristamp portrays Knives. On one hand, I definitely think that we're being lead to believe that Vash has always been a peace-loving kid and that Knives has always had those tendencies, which would set up for season 2 to break that down. I hope.

The one thing I couldn't figure out, ofc, is the Knives not needing to eat thing - My friend millions-dykes theorized a black hole/white star dynamic a little while ago [as seen in the screenshot. I'm Organ, they are Nagito Malmonella]

aaaaaaaaanyway, we still get these little instances of knives just being a kid, and it's the funniest thing in the world to me. Vash is also apparently in tune with him enough to pick up on that and it's such twin behaviour.

There's also just a lot of cases of Knives smiling or being giggly around Rem, which,,,, he's such a mama's boy like we know this but it's so nice to have it reinforced. This theory of Knives having always been cold/standoffish just doesn't track - the only time he usually seems uncomfortable is when Rem touches him or when he talks about Plant stuff - particularly when he's talking about being different to Vash. Knives, to me at least, is a tad autism-coded :]

OKAY TO THE SCENE[TM]

So obviously this has changed from when we first saw Vash tell the story. Vash's sequence of events runs as follows:

Vash walks up to the little hill that Knives is laughing maniacally on top of -> Knives says "I finally did it! It worked! -> Vash confronts him with "How could you do that?" -> Knives reassures him with "Don't worry, I left the Plant ship" -> Knives says "I even got Rem killed!" -> Knives points out that Vash is his accomplice, but does not elaborate why. "Don't get mad. You're already my accomplice, isn't that right Vash?"

Now the sequence of events in this version is provably more accurate (the same audio is used in the black box recording discovered later), and goes as follows:

Vash wakes up from the escape pod and goes "Nai, where are you?" -> He spends some time following Knives' footsteps where he sees the crashed pods and fire and Knives laughing on the hill -> Knives says "I finally did it! It worked!" -> Vash says "I can't believe you killed Rem!" -> Knives says "Don't get mad. You're already my accomplice, it was you who told me the passcode - Am I right, Vash?"

So there are several inconsistencies in these two versions of events, most notably for me is that Vash is the one to bring up Rem. If the 1st telling was correct, it would imply that Knives wanted to kill Rem, but that part is conspicuously absent, because Vash is the one that brings her up.

Vash's retelling also omits the fact that he was the one to give Knives the passcode, shifting more blame onto Knives. It's very very interesting to me. Finally, Knives mostly has his back to Vash when he dissolves into laughter again. Which is a technique often used to hide if you've been crying or are having a hard time keeping some emotional responses down.

And I'm not even done with this flashback! The scene where Vash just lies down and wants to give up is,,, Well, in Trimax, ever since Tesla, Vash has struggled with suicidal ideation - he's the one that asks for Rem to just kill him, and that's heartbreaking, but we also see a bit of that leaking through here again, where he just wants to lie down and give up. It also gives me hope we're gonna see that Tesla aftermath scene in the next season, because that'll be breaking Vash down into his more complicated, messy parts.

Okay so I do think that the subtitles Aniwave uses are... a little bit Wack, I'm pretty sure that they're unofficial and probably a bit wonky, and I'm only slightly conversational in Japanese so I have 0 idea about this, but hey I think someone should inform Wolfwood, for no particular reas- [I am dragged away by security]

[I did check the dub, which referred to Plants giving birth which I think is much more likely to be accurate. But it'd still be funny for Wolfwood to have to sit through Plant sex ed so neither of them get pregnant]

Rem really was very, very young,,,,,

There are four photos here, but only one is given to Vash. I wonder why,,,, Possibly to gauge his recognition of Knives being in the photo, or keeping the other three to learn what they can about Knives.

The night/day progression cycle here doesn't really match up with Vash's little tally, so I don't think it's counting days. Given that he apparently went to say hello to everyone in cold sleep while on the ship, I think it's a little more likely that the tally marks are for them....

Do we ever actually get to hear Rem say the blank ticket thing in a flashback? I don't recall it, but it is said to Vash after the whole Stabbing Incident in Trimax, so that's possibly why they've kept it from us.

Theeee markings under this Plant's eyes match Elendira's, which. Obviously Elendira in tristamp is part plant there's just so many little details that lend themselves to it,,,

The HAIR COLOUR CHANGE AAAA

I like the little wall of Vash baby pics in the background here, but he still didn't get any of his 3 other ship pics back :(

Finally, Vash's line of "an Independent will make up for what an Independent has done" is interesting because his guilt complex really does spiral, huh. The reason Knives telling him "Oh, you just feel guilty for the Big Fall, huh?" in a later ep fucks him up so much is because like. That is kinda true to an extent. Vash is his own kind of self-deluding, but that only really starts spiraling at about this point in time.

Alright, setting up for a Day of analysis tomorrow, because I have many thoughts and feelings surrounding Knives (I love him very dearly and I hate him a lot (affectionate)) and we Will spend some time talking about Trimax Flavour Knives because my understanding of him is fundamental to my understanding of Tristamp Flavour Knives.

Thank y'all for the fun comments and theory addons!!! I'm having a lot of fun and we're really getting into how [normal] I am about Trigun!

[mrabubu]

HIHELLO IVE BEEN STUCK ON YOUR BLOG FOR LIKE 20 MINUTES STRAIGHT I CANT GET ENOUGH OF ALL YOUR ART??

Your comic is so uueueu there's not enough words for it!! I love the artstyle OFC, plus the way you layout panels and text, but more than the wonderful art the story is super intriguing and while bad future isn't new this take on it is so!! Unique!! I'm so excited to see where it goes!

Okay actual ask now: How long does 1 page take on average if you already have an idea for the story, and do you have any songs/playlists you associate with this Heart of Stone?

Ok, first of all HHHHHGNGNGHHHHH /I'm just so happy people start to get interested of my comic/

And for the questions: 1) Honestly, I don't know xd Usually it depends on the complexity of the page, and how interested I am to draw it. I'm easy to distract. Most of the time my drawing process looks like: *draws for 5 minutes* *goes to YouTube to search for something to play on the background* *draws for another 5 minutes* *goes to check tumblr or something else or goes to search for another video bcs this one is boring* There are, of course, moments when I can draw for hours without rest when I'm really into some particular page or drawing overall, but it's rare. So, if to take the last update, I drew one page at a day, except for the last two which I finished in one day because I didn't have any other plans. It took me, maybe, a whole evening? Considering my statement at how easily distracted I am. 2) With this one I really tried to think about a playlist, but then I remembered that there is a playlist that I play when I draw the comic:

There's just something about the future turtles that gives me Horizon Zero Dawn vibes. Especially when I think of the future Donnie I always think about how he could easily take the role of Elisabet Sobeck in Horizon. If to be more precise, a few songs from Horizon ost that I associate with my comic would be: "A Wanderer's Work" (it's not present in this playlist, but you can find it on YouTube) "On Our Mother's Shoulders" "Envoys" "The Memory Of Old Walls" "The World And All It's Lessons" "This New Wilderness" "Identification" And a couple of osts from different media: Old Gods of Asgard - "Herald of Darkness" Mikolai Stroinski - "After the storm" Just in case, sorry, I don't have anything like Spotify, because I can't get access to it, and even something like SoundCloud, so, all I can offer is this...

Maybe I will have more osts/songs later, but for now this is it xd

[dovithedarklord]

Age of Monsters - Chapter Nine

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

...................................

Author's Note

Leona gets involved in an exciting adventure and receives surprising help.

Hello!

I have a few Trigger Warnings for today's chapter: Blood, violence, weapons, gore, viscera, death, and extensive injuries.

Have fun!:)

I.M.L. - Infected mammalian lifeform

I.H.L. - Infected humanoid lifeform

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Nine

..........................................

Everything is happening so fast that I can only stare in shock at what unfolds before my eyes through the binoculars. A whole dozen deformed creatures emerge from the smoke rising after the explosion, and they throw themselves among the debris of the street at such a speed, that the soldiers who took cover hardly have time to retreat before one of the beasts, which looks as heavy as a small elephant, snarls and throws itself at the wreck that has served as a hiding place for them. And it's only thanks to MacTavish's lightning-fast reflexes that the bear-like monster doesn't tear one of the scattered soldiers apart, because the Hunter appears in front of the mutant so suddenly, that I'm unable to follow him with my paralyzed brain. With his bare hands, he fights back the shovel-like, huge paw that is about to strike, so that when the enraged creature stands up on its two hind legs and attacks again, he hits the vital organs with a couple of well-aimed shots and takes the behemoth down.

However, they don't have time to enjoy this small victory, because more and more I.M.L.s appear, and as I glance at the entrance to the nest, I realize that, judging by the number of mutants constantly pouring out, they certainly won't have a chance to rejoice for a while. But if this all continues like this, it's also doubtful whether anyone will survive long enough to see a happy ending. A desperate fight begins, and the soldiers flee to get some cover behind the many ruins spread out on the street, from where they attempt to pump the monsters galloping towards them full with bullets. And I'm trying to process what happened through the astonishment taking over my limbs. The I.H.L.s walked through those fucking bombs, willingly and with great joy, to defuse them for their friends who showed up next. Not only did the I.M.L.s not kill the humanoid abominations, they welcomed them into the warmth of their nice little family, and now they even seem to be working together. Which is a fucking wild assumption, even for my imagination running rampant with stress, because so far there has been no example of this in the last fifty years. These bastards are incapable of intelligent actions, let alone outmaneuvering those who hunt them. What the hell is going on here?

"It's Hunter 0-15! Everyone stays in position! They can't go any further!" I hear Riley's command on the radio, and the raw anger in his voice is the testimony that the hell that broke loose has also caught him desperately unprepared. All calmness is lost from his words reaching my ears, and because of this, my pulse skyrockets and tries to breathe some life into me, because it slowly reaches my awareness that the situation will soon become difficult for me as well, even though I am far away from the events.

MacTavish's little soldiers continue to fire at the mutants from behind the rubble, and although they are surprisingly effective at killing the demonic creatures, and they manage to eliminate some of them, this isn't nearly enough for most of them to stay on the ground permanently. Again, a loud explosion shakes the street, which has turned into a picture of frenzied killing, and I'm also forced to close my eyes for a moment from the flashing lights. And by the time I turn back to follow the actions, the foglike smoke that has appeared lulls me into a false calm with its immobility. Because when it starts to disintegrate, it reveals the corpses of the monsters torn to pieces, but soon more of their friends arrive to take their place. It's as if they are besieged by an endless stream, and despite the soldiers fighting and shooting at them incessantly, the dozens of monsters that keep popping up create this feeling, which causes unimaginable panic to run through my every nerve fiber. As if the mouth of the nest would open straight into hell, where more and more vermins ready to kill would pour out. And the whole struggle suddenly seems like a completely hopeless suffering.

Maybe that's why the Hunter with the mohawk can decide to take matters into his hands and rush towards the beasts alone, entrusting his team's survival to his abilities. He can also guess that if even one of the I.M.L.s gets close enough to his comrades, that unfortunate person will suffer the most painful death imaginable. And although he has the repertoire with which he can take out these bastards, his lethal power is in vain if he is outnumbered by the enemy. And this isn't a good thing, to say the least.

"Cover me!" MacTavish says on the radio to his comrades behind him, who obey his instructions without hesitation and get ready in a second to target anything they can. And as the man steps out of his cover and sets off towards the diabolic creatures with a determined momentum, my stomach shrinks from some unknown unpleasant grip, because the only image that appears in my mind is the promise of the Hunter's dead body frozen in blood. And although I trust him and his experience, I'm unable to banish this simple intuition from my subconscious, which is slowly torn in two by the claws of worry and terror.

Despite all the risks, he directs his weapon at the incoming beasts without a moment's delay, hitting them with brutal precision before they can get even a little close enough to attack. And when one of the degenerates, throwing itself over the defeated cadaver of its companion, comes within arm's reach of the Hunter, he frees one hand and swings his fist at his attacker, and hits the brute’s bare, skull-like head with such force that even though I can only see the image through the lens of the binoculars, but in my ears I hear the imaginary crunching of bones. The I.M.L. falls to the ground, and as it lies down in the dust, I see its blood-soaked face, mangled by the blow, in which MacTavish makes a hole with a well-aimed shot just to be on the safe side.

Even I'm amazed at the efficiency with which he exterminates the wretched swines, an although they continue to advance towards the small group with unstoppable anger, still hope awakens in me when the man I have known so far as harmless and friendly shows that it’s no accident that he belongs to S-class. Even though it seems stomach-churning, as minute by minute he enriches the road decorated with black blood and wrecks with more and more unrecognizable limp bodies, I still hope that this pace won't leave him and he sends all these bastards to the other world.

Still, when a mutant larger than its previous buddies appears and, pointing its horns at MacTavish, rushes forward, cutting through the carcasses lying in the filth, my blood runs cold. A skillful little soldier begins to shoot, but it doesn’t make a difference, for the beast charges forward furiously and unrelenting toward its goal, and when it arrives and strikes with unstoppable momentum, it's just a hair's breadth away from slicing open the chest of its victim, who is lucky enough that his vest absorbs the lion's share of the attack. Taking a few steps back, the Scotsman lowers his weapon onto its sling, then pulls himself together to grab the bone growths that are about to strike again, before it can stab him. He fixes his booted feet on the ground to hold back the enraged monster, who tries to push forward toward his chosen prey with muscles tensing under the pale, scarred skin. For a nerve-wracking moment, when the Hunter's legs slide backward in the dust, it seems that he might lose his balance and the fiend will get to him, but this horrific illusion lasts only for an uncertain second. In the blink of an eye, he regains control and pushes his attacker by its horns, then reaches into his tactical vest, grabs a large hunting knife from there and places it in the head of the mutant. The blade sinks right up to the hilt into the creature's skull as easily as if the man just wanted to cut a birthday cake, and he pulls it out with at least that much ease, so that he can continue the fight undisturbed.

And as soon as I see the large body spread out on the ground, I let out the air which I didn't know with what despair had stuck in my lungs until now. I hastily shift my gaze through my binoculars to assess the less-than-ideal state of the battlefield, because at this point the eventual outcome of this fight becomes highly doubtful. And I'm not greeted by a prettier sight from the intersection either, and although I see some of the monsters fall on the road limply, another one inexplicably appears in its place, which throws itself to the soldiers firing from their hiding places. And even my mind, confused by the chaos, knows that we have stepped into a real wasp's nest, because it has long since gone beyond the limits of a routine nest extermination. This is something completely different that we walked into completely unprepared.

I continue to observe the chaotic scene of the battle, and I'm just about to make up my mind to create some workable plan that could help me to survive, when something in my periphery suddenly moves on the battered roof of one of the ruined buildings. Reflexively, I turn my head in the direction of the phenomenon, and concentrating all my attention there, I try to assess with my sharp little eyes, what the figure slowly creeping out from the shadows and appearing almost out of nowhere could be. And when the silvery light of the moon finally envelops the stranger, my eyebrows meet in confusion at the sight materializing before me. Because for a split second, it occurs to me that I might have fallen victim to a hallucination caused by fear and stress, because I can't find a sane explanation as to why the I.M.L., with a body woven with lean muscles, appears with a human-like creature on its back peeping ever so slowly through the stumps of half-destroyed walls covered with vegetation.

But, when I understand what I'm seeing and my brain starts to work on interpreting the visual stimuli received through my eyes, a completely new kind of astonishment comes over me. It defies all known facts as the mutant and its rider stalk towards the edge of the building with almost stoic calm, and just the wording of this observation is enough to make me lean forward, holding on to the handrail, to see if I can get a better look at this impossible picture. The I.H.L. sitting on his cute little pet looks down on the events taking place in the turmoil of the street as superiorly as if it were just watching a movie, and although I can't see its face clearly, I can still perfectly measure up that its features have remained much more human-like than those of its other infected friends. While the other infected humanoid creatures only resembled their late selves in traces, and like the other monsters they took on an amorphous form littered with ulcers, growths, and superhuman muscles, which probably makes their appearance resemble a wraith from a nightmare, this individual remained surprisingly human. Only a few tumors and scars decorate its body, swollen with developed muscles, and its unwavering and proud posture is definitely different from the horrible nest dwellers.

However, I don't have time to analyze the creature any further, because when it raises one hand and points it towards the soldiers and Scottish Hunter fighting at the end of the road, I suddenly forget to muse on the events that took place so far. Because at least a dozen I.H.L.s drag themselves out of the alley that runs next to the building with slow movements, and at the silent instructions of their leader puffing above them, they begin a clumsy but all the more determined stealth towards the unsuspecting troops. And at this point, my mind finally snaps out of the paralyzed contemplation and instead postpones my further smart observations, and my hand hastily reaches for the radio resting on my tactical vest so I can warn MacTavish before the bastards can surprise them.

"MacTavish! I.H.L.s are approaching you from behind!" I shout with an almost desperate urgency, and I tensely aim my eyes at the man, who continues to fight with restless momentum against the ever-coming mass of enemies. An icy terror shoots through me when I don't see any reaction from him, and only one of the soldiers turns back for a moment to check the authenticity of the information coming from me. And when he notices the lanky figures slowly emerging from the shadows of the walls, he quickly spins around and waves his hand to the rest of his comrades who have retreated to cover.

"They're behind us!" I hear the soldier's nervous voice in my ear, and now they all think it's better to turn around and deal with the new threat that is approaching them with dangerous certainty. Even so, the restlessness of the soldiers doesn't break the Hunter from his murderous activities, and he continues to wipe out the monsters showing up from the intersection, despite the fact that by now he is doing this by himself. And I frown in confusion, since he gives no sign of being aware of the catastrophe that will soon begin.

It seems I'm not the only one who notices this, because one of the soldiers hiding close by suddenly jumps up and motions towards the Hunter, no doubt trying to shout over the noise of the active battle. And when he doesn't succeed, he hastily leaves his hideout and sneaks closer to try to warn his superior again. This message finally reaches its destination, because the Scottish man puts down the mutant coming towards him in a fraction of a second, only to look back and face the creatures that are about to pounce on them.

But then it's too late, because the monstrosities, who have been advancing calmly up to this point, suddenly find their anger and attack the small group with all their uncontrollable bloodlust, and the Hunter and his men are now forced to defend themselves from two directions. The soldiers immediately start firing, but all efforts and even the Hunter fighting at their side are in vain when a handful of people don't stand a chance against these wretches. Since when the I.H.L.s reach them, the real carnage begins, and in the blink of an eye, the hopeless struggle thus far turns into total hell. They unstoppably burst into the combatants, and as one of the deformed creatures throws itself at the man shooting from behind a chunk of concrete, it grabs its victim by the neck with indefensible speed with its grotesque, spider-like long arms, and tears off the unfortunate soldier's head with playful ease, as if it had just tried to rip off a piece of grape from its cluster. And the acid rises in my throat at the sight with unforgiving force, and holding my hand in front of my mouth, I swallow back the contents of my stomach that want to burst out, which was led toward the outside world by fear so graciously.

I can't hear it, but it's enough to see MacTavish's mouth open in agony to feel the surprised fury in the scream that leaves the man's lips. But the fun isn't over yet, as the chaos of the night that turned into bloodshed is cut in two by a bone-chilling roar that draws my attention back to the unknown being who started this whole fucking event. And that bastard climbs down the side of the building where it had been observing up until now, sitting on top of the mutant behemoth, and gallops towards the group fighting desperately with its chest out. And my hands reflexively find my radio to do something, to warn someone who knows how to prevent the horror that is slowly unfolding before my eyes.

"MacTavish! There's one more coming up from behind!" I yell into the device at full volume, and I look again for the mentioned person, but instead of responding to my call, he throws himself into eliminating the beasts with even more aggression than before, like a cornered wild animal. And the unpleasant realization dawns on me that this cannot be the work of chance, and that he is not deliberately ignoring my call, but that some accident has happened with his communication device. And this, if possible, pushes me even further towards complete panic, the like of which I wasn't lucky enough to feel even in the forest. That's why I decide it's time to tell someone else about the mess the team got into.

"Riley!" I call for the masked Hunter, ignoring the panic that mixes with my voice that breaks through the radio. Because my instincts are taking over my brain, and it screams inside my skull that if my Scottish friend doesn't get help soon, I'm going to watch with my own two eyes as that fucking beast-riding mutant bastard guts him. And this is just enough to drive my body to the verge of dizziness. "MacTavish's team is surrounded, they need help!" I exclaim, and I shift my frantic gaze to the intersection through my binoculars, just in case Riley and one of his partners appear in the heat of the madness and rush to help.

However, for a nerve-wracking moment, no answer comes, and although I can hear the soldiers messaging each other in broken voices, none of them are the deep, British-accented ones I'm looking for. And that disgusting foreboding creeps into my skull, which tells me that something terrible might have happened to the other man, which prevents him from answering. And this possibility triggers even more ominous thoughts in my brain, which is already falling into a deeper pit of stress. But, when I hear the crackling of the radio in my ear, I almost instinctively feel a sense of relief, because I wouldn't be able to process so much crap in one night.

"Roger that. Stay where you are." Comes the rather concise reaction, and while his tone doesn't surprise me at all, his words are even more so. There is such a measured indifference radiating from the man over the line as he directs this firm instruction at me, that it instantly raises my blood pressure. Because I get the feeling that, he's belittling my concerns and disregarding my observations, and ignoring my entire report, as if it were nothing more than the unnecessary squealing of a silly little girl. Although I can accurately assess the superior confidence with which the demonic monster approaches our mutual friend, who is slowly running out of space to protect himself from threats.

"Riley, I'm not fucking kidding!" I snap at the man fiercely, and my fingers tighten around the radio with such force that I'm afraid it will crack in my grip. "There's a fucking I.H.L. riding a mutant, and it directs the other bastards there and they're cornering MacTavish and his team!" I explain to him, leaving behind all my pride and arrogance, which I have been so happy to convey to him during our conversations. With this, hoping that he will also understand the seriousness of the situation and will finally rally his people, and help the Scottish man so that we can get out of this cesspool together. Because the only chance of survival here is to get the hell out of here as soon as possible. Whether this is the orderly and correct step or not.

"Continue to observe and hold your position!" He raises his voice now, informing me of his previously perfectly worded order a little more irritatedly, with which the problem so far wasn't that my brain cells couldn't process it. And I stare blankly into the distance, with my flaming eyes fixed on the man even through the ruined buildings covered with plants, because I'm unable to understand what is so damn hard to understand in the fact that without his help, his friend will soon kick the bucket. As I take another look at the battle taking place in the street, and see how the multitude of monsters and degenerate creatures are slowly closing in on MacTavish and his two companions who are still alive, my chest tightens with a stabbing pain. Too many enemies are arriving, and there is no end in sight to the bloody mess, and although the Hunter is heroically trying to stand his ground, it's perfectly clear that their chances of survival will soon be zero if something is not done urgently. And it seems that the man is also aware of this, because he nervously turns his head behind his back, looking for an escape route, so that when he notices the entrance to the small alley stretching to the left, he signals to his men to order them behind him. He keeps his weapon on the beats attacking them, trying to hold them back until he manages to fish out a grenade from his vest, and then throws the useful little bomb into the small gang of mutants. The force of the explosion causes the bastards to fly apart like startled birds, and those who are still hit by the detonation are blown into discrete pieces. It seems that MacTavish takes advantage of this momentary distraction, because by the time the dust and smoke clears, there is no sign of him and his friends. And even though I lose sight of them in this way, it still makes me more anxious to wonder how much time they will gain with this stunt before their pursuers catch up with them again.

My concerns are soon answered, because the mutant-riding I.H.L. stands only with immeasurable calmness at the edge of the scene of destruction, only to retreat for a fleeting moment, surveying its sweet little beasts with quite deceptive apathy. It gives the impression as it runs its milk-white gaze over its remaining bloodthirsty companions, as if it would just count how many chess pieces it has left, which it can mobilize in order to inflict maximum damage. And when it’s convinced that there are still enough scumbags that it can unleash on its victims, it once again directs the dozens of monsters towards the escape route used by the Scotsman with that eerily sensible gesture, and the brutes throw themselves onto the designated path with murderous enthusiasm. But it doesn't stay idle either, no. As soon as the last of its kind is swallowed up by the darkness of the side street, the monster below it suddenly moves and dashes after them with amazing speed. And it doesn't take much logic for me to figure out that this is going to be a hide-and-seek with an easily fatal outcome. And this gives me enough justification to try asking for help again.

"Riley!" I call for the man again, and I know that there is real desperation and anger in my voice, but the urgent feeling that with every passing minute, we are getting closer to the bloody highlight of this whole nerve-racking mission doesn’t let me rest. And when a few painfully long seconds pass and there is still no answer, my teeth clench so nervously that my jaw almost aches from it. What the fuck?

"MacTavish has left his position and is now being chased by a herd of mutants. If someone doesn't help them, they will most certainly die." I try again, now perhaps more impatiently than necessary, emphasizing each word separately. But again, I don't get any reaction, from which I can directly conclude that the man is probably swimming up to his knees in the carcasses of the beasts, and thus he can be in exactly as dire of a position as his friend with the mohawk. Because I know he wouldn’t deliberately ignore my warning about the suffering of his dear friend, considering how fiercely he defended his little unit from my harmful little scheming.

From this whole helpless situation, the image of MacTavish's mangled body, lying in the dirt swimming in blood while a beast feasts on him, flashes before my mind's eye inexplicably. The vision projected in my imagination seems so real that the pressure, which was benevolently suppressed by the compulsion to follow the events, once again returns to its well-accustomed place in my throat. Just the thought that the life of the man, who effectively sneaked into the corners of my dark little soul even during our fleeting time together, would die in such a violent and painful manner fills my limbs with unbearable pain.

And as I take in the sight of the gaping nest at the intersection and the monsters rampaging around it through my binoculars again, the very definite idea begins to take shape in the winding paths of my gray matter, that maybe it's time to leave my position that lulls me into the illusion of safety. Although all my survival instincts protest against the idea, I still have the best chance to rush to the aid of the Scottish Hunter, because his other comrades, just like him, are still fighting desperately for their lives. And this simple fact seems like such a logical step, which nevertheless sufficiently triggers the raging waves of adrenaline in my body. And the smile that makes its way to my face breaks out of me almost hysterically when I realize how far I have strayed from the selfish little ideas of my former self at this moment. Because while previously no one could have persuaded me to commit such a stupid and irresponsible move, now the voice in the deepest part of my skull is reviving, which drowns out the sounds of my selfishness, and which screams for me to pull myself together and finally do something. I've never been a coward, I've always been manipulative and calculating, so it's time to act before the terror in my stomach wins. Shit.

"I'll go after him." I announce my sudden decision with surprising ease, as soon as my fingers find my radio again. It's quite obvious that even though I could flee in silence and maybe even survive, every cell in me is furiously protesting the fleeting idea, as if the suggestion itself were a disgusting disease. And thinking rationally, I'm most definitely not going to get out of here alone tonight, so it would be best if I would actively do something so that I and my little friends can get through the night. Even if I put my own skin at risk.

"I told you not to leave your position! This is a command!" Riley's voice suddenly echoes in my ears, and I find it quite funny that breaking his instructions is what finally prompts him to react. I'd like to think he's sounding so aggressive over the radio because he's worried about my safety, but I know he probably just wants to avoid explaining how I died if I would actually bit the bullet during my rescue operation. And while my realistic self understands why he insists to idle my time away here, the fact that he would rather keep me at this fucking observation point than let me do what I'm willingly offering helps the poison spread through my veins. Now is not the time when he can flaunt his dominance, because once I have a rock-solid determination, very little will distract me from it. And the role of the strict Hunter is not one of them.

"I couldn't care less about your order, Riley." I throw my remark at him determinedly, and although I know that this will probably only fan the flames of his temper even more, unfortunately, this die is already cast. "I won't let him die." I explain to him my brief reasoning behind my sudden decision, and before I can even wait for his answer, my hands glide with automatic movements towards the communicator hidden deep in the side pocket of my pants, and with my clever little fingers I call up the map of the whole damn city so that I can look for the man with the mohawk on it. And when the little red dot marking him with his call sign appears, as he flees diligently heading west, then I already know what the target direction of my little action will be.

"Woods! Stay in your fuckin' position!" The masked man reprimands me again, but I only deal with this matter with a sarcastic snort, because at this point he already should know that he won't stop me with this, because he hasn't been able to divert me with his threats so far either. And only a hidden corner of my consciousness grasps the unknown and impatient tension, which until now I haven't heard in his deep voice, but I don't pay any importance to it now. After all, at this moment, the interpretation of his behavior, unfortunately, fell back in the order of priority. And because of this, I decide that I'd rather not waste any more words on this futile verbal battle, because I will get to where I need to be that much later.

"I'll let you know when there's a new development." I send him one last message, so that I can finally surrender to the impatient nervousness in my muscles, which pushes each of my limbs towards action. And although panic is still actively working in my veins, my realization gives me enough impetus to finally move. I push myself away from the handrail that has provided me with firm support until now, and sliding my binoculars back into their holder, I turn my back on the active battlefield, where the sound of loud gunfire and inarticulate howls still fills the space. I grab my assault rifle slung over my shoulder and start with hasty steps towards the stairs leading down from the overpass, crossing the broken concrete road. Even I'm amazed at how springy my movements are, as I take the steps in twos, only to start running immediately after a final check of my communicator.

I decide that I might have better luck avoiding the monsters whose after MacTavish if I try to approach them one street up, because the mutants are definitely working on cornering him. And if the beast-riding bastard is there with them, then unfortunately for the Hunter, but to my luck, maybe his trashy friends won't wander away from there. Because, even though I was suddenly promoted to a one-man relief army, my common sense and will to survive didn't leave me. I run across the wide road, from the end of which the sounds of the battle still reach me, and even though I still hear the memory of Riley's deep voice filled with anger, I only take one last look at the events taking place at the intersection. I will care about the man's rage when everyone is back in the safe and calm confines of the base. Maybe I'll even be happy if he scolds me.

A narrow stretch of road between ruined buildings appears in front of my eyes, and when I realize that the next part of my journey will lead to it, I double my speed and throw myself into the side street surrounded by crumbling walls. I'm greeted by nothing but ominous pitch darkness, and my nose is suddenly filled with the smell of wet vegetation and gunpowder traveling on the back of the wind, but I'm not deterred for a moment by this archival horror movie environment. It takes some time for my eyes to adjust to the world of the alley dominated by shadows, and for the few seconds until this happens, I continue sprinting without waiting, because my heart beating in my ears and the adrenaline bubbling in my veins tells me that there is no time to hesitate. But thanks to fate, my pretty little eyes overcome this obstacle after running a few meters blindly, and from then on I continue on the desolate road with full confidence.

My lungs are filled with decades of dust kicked up by my steps, and the fine crumbs of plaster peeling off the crumbling walls slowly fill my mouth, but even in spite of this, I hurry along the narrow and ridiculously long street. Sometimes I jump with the elegance of a gazelle over the many abandoned belongings and objects lying on the ground that are rotten beyond recognition, and my mind, focused on the task, doesn't stop to think about what a piece of cloth of dubious origin or an obscure outline that appears suspiciously might be. And I'm terribly grateful for that, because now I don't feel like getting into that kind of nostalgia.

When the claustrophobic feeling from wandering in the depths of the alley would finally start to get on my nerves, my small path suddenly ends and I get to another wide concrete road, in the middle of which an overturned large vehicle is lying still. And although most of the paint had peeled off, there are still a couple of yellow scale-like remnants left on it, from which I can deduce that it must have been a school bus once. And I prefer to direct my gaze to the hologram glowing in blue on my communicator, rather than to the windows that look like many screaming mouths, through which I catch the decaying frames of the torn seats for a moment.

I search for MacTavish's blinking little dot on the map again, and when I find it three streets down, pulsing unmovingly in one place, worry fills me. Because the fact that he decided to take a rest in the middle of his escape can mean two things. Either he managed to kill all the mutants, or something is actively preventing him from leaving. And if it's the latter, then I have to hurry because it could lead straight to his death.

I quickly identify the small, one-way street where I will continue my way, which is located one street directly above the position of the Hunter, so that I can leave behind the haunting ruins of the school and begin my frenzied sprint once again. My whole body continues to be doped by the ever-growing waves of adrenaline, which drives away the dryness that bites my esophagus, the burning tension in my muscles, and every other sensation, and pushes me further into the emptiness of the seemingly endless street. The moonlight colors the once serene surroundings in silver and lends a quite eerie atmosphere to the silence, which slowly envelops everything. The sounds of the battle in the combat zone behind me had long since disappeared, and nothing remains but the dull noise of my boots pounding on the concrete and the sound of my hurried breathing.

Every minute, I return to the map looming in blue with my eyes, and as the red dot marking the man with the mohawk, still blinking frozen in place, gets closer and closer, my heart rate soars to dangerous heights. Because I have a strong suspicion that my first hypothesis was correct, and that the being leading the mutants really directed all of his minions towards the Hunter, and that's exactly why MacTavish has been stalling in the same place for minutes, and that's why luck has so far spared me from running into stray I.M.L.. And this realization is a sufficient warning for caution, because at this point it becomes clear that I will have to come up with a tricky little tactic if I want to save not only the man and his friends, but also my own skin.

And when I finally see the end of this damned street, I rather take back my momentum, because I hear the unmistakable deep, rasping and definitely otherwordly grunts and growls, the likes of which only a single lifeform can emit. With cat-like steps, I sneak closer to the end of the street to look for a temporary hiding place, snuggling up against the side of a building dotted with decaying old plaster. I slowly and silently slide my communicator back into my pocket, as I suspect it will be obvious where the Scotsman and his companions have been confined. Resting my palm against the wall, I lean out of the my hideout, and when I see the mob of beasts, my eyebrows nervously furrow. Because a good thirty meters away, they are peacefully huddling in front of an alley, from which the muffled sounds of fighting are heard. And they have every reason to be calm, because the mutant-riding I.H.L. does the same, and observes the events of the battle that emanate from the dark alley with deep indifference. As my gaze glides across the gathered herd to assess how many of them are there, I see a small group of monsters circling the ground with great interest. And as soon as one of them moves, I can finally see what occupied them so effectively. Although there is only a blood-soaked, mangled corpse lying on the ground, I only need to look at the uniformed leg dangling from one of the beast's sharp, needle-like teeth to know that by now MacTavish may be the last survivor of his team. And I thank the stress hormone working in me for kindly suppressing the first friendly waves of nausea, because I don't want to be caught just because I do a technicolor yawn.

And before I can analyze the situation further, I hear a loud bang of a gun firing, which is followed by sick silence. It seems that the little fucker riding the beast could have been waiting for this, because it seizes this opportunity and decides to join the party, raising an object that looks terriby close to a spear in its hand. My chest suddenly tightens as my brain takes in the facts, and then the decision is born in me that I have to act now, or the Hunter, who may have run out of ammunition and weapons, and may be injured and exhausted, won't be able to stand his ground against this scumbag. Even if every fiber of my being hopes the contrary.

And this, instead of causing me to fall into despair, in some inexplicable way rekindles the bubbling energy in my veins that I last felt when I locked eyes with that fucking wild boar. And although I thought that my body wasn't shaken for a moment by that faithful meeting, I'm still glad that this image is etched in my memory. Because now at least I will benefit from the unquestionable determination that once again overwhelms me, and now even though not my survival depends on it, I let this unknown force lick my insides with angry flames. And my brain in a heightened state magically comes up with the plan that I have to implement. And for some reason, I have no doubts about its success.

My fingers nimbly fish out the flash grenade resting on my vest, and its other two much more destructive brothers, because it seems much more logical and poetic to shred these garbage into confetti, as they did with the unsuspecting soldiers. I emerge from the cover of the wall for the last time, and I see that the monsters are still waiting for me at their dinner table, stuffing their faces, and this suddenly makes me want to kill them even more. My body moves almost by itself, and I aim my weapon with automatic movements, then throw the flash grenade between the gathered mutants with such precision as if I had been doing this all my life. I quickly hide myself behind the wall again, and the bastards don't even have time to process what's happening, because as soon as the sneaky little gadget hits the ground, the blinding light that escapes from it momentarily covers the entire ruined street. And when a deafening whine-like sound erupts from them, I know that my vile little distraction was effective.

I grasp the opportunity, and I don't give them time to recover from this, but I activate the two companions that are more powerful than the flash grenade, and I send them flying on their destructive journey straight between the paralyzed, frozen creatures. And although I once again retreat to the protective shield of the building, when the hand grenades land, they explode with a well-known boom, after which nothing remains but the air movement and the mass of dust flying with it. Thus, even in the shelter of my hiding place, I hear the wet splashing of torn bodies of the beasts and the sharp thump of the debris hitting the ground, and I take this as the sign that I can finally make my entrance on the blood-covered stage.

I step out onto the concrete road with every inch of my body filled with determination, and I see, through the dispersing smoke, that my little surprise has indeed achieved the necessary effect. The remains of bodies mutilated beyond recognition lie on the ground, and even the luckier ones, those who are still moving and writhing on the mangled leashes of their own limbs, will no longer pose a threat. I briskly cross the street that has become the site of bloodshed, and my boots clatter with a disgusting sound in the dirt soaked with dark body fluids, but instead of being repulsed by the whole sight, a small joy awakens in my soul, because they all deserved it. Each and everyone of them.

It doesn't take long for me to reach the entrence of the alley, and when I arrive, I lose momentum for split second, and I pause to survey the scene unfolding before me. MacTavish might have been able to struggle heroically against the enemy until now, because the narrow street is covered by the many lifeless corpse of I.M.L.s, and it must have been a miracle of God that he survived in this hot water until now. But now, backing towards the end of the dead end alley, his hands are pressed to his stomach, where the remnants of his tactical vest and T-shirt hang in jagged pieces, giving a clear view of the long, claw-like cuts that run across his torso. A painful moan escapes the man, and his gaze glowing with weak red light is fixed on the beast towering over him, and on the deformed creature sitting on it, who is preparing to finish its cruel work with its spear raised high. And this awakens such anger and hatred in me, the heat of which burns my insides alive, and along which the energy burns even more strongly in my veins, sending a single message to my brain. Kill it. And it doesn't have to be said twice.

Before the scumbag can even make its next move, I grab my assault rifle and aim it without hesitation to pump the bastart full of bullets. My gun fires with a series of loud bangs, and I manage to surprise the mutant, because by the time it realizes what's happening, the fired bullets are already piercing through its body, and maybe even Riley himself would be proud of how efficiently I take I.H.L. down with my sharpened senses. A shrill scream erupts from it, then with a dull thump the human-like creature turns from the throne it had occupied until now, and as soon as it sprawls on the dirty ground, its pet also notices that something is very wrong. The mutant turns with such fervor, as if it were genuinely enraged by my intervention, which it might be. But I'm not frightened by the way it snarls and focuses all its attention on me, because when it lunges towards me and wants to get up on two legs to throw itself at me, I deploy my mean little rifle again and shoot the fucker with deadly efficiency, focusing on its chest, because the useful wisdom that I learned during my training appears in my brain. And I know from this that if I cause enough damage, it will fall to the ground. I don't have to be disappointed in the knowledge I've acquired from my teachers, because when a bunch of bloody gaping holes cover the brute's broad chest, it falls in the filth next to its master. As I unwaveringly walk towards it, and when with its last breath, the milky white eyes resting on its wrinkled, tumor-distorted head look up at me, then I decide to take pity on it and free it from its suffering, and I present it with one last bullet to its skull. It takes a few seconds for me to realize that it's over and I've killed both of them. And then the murderous red fog clears from my mind, and all my attention shifts to the Hunter kneeling at the back of the alley.

"MacTavish!" I shout, and I don't even try to get rid of the worry in my voice, because my nervous system is too overloaded to be able to work on such stunts. Instead, my body moves almost automatically, and I hurry through the narrow alley covered with corpses, shoving my weapon over my shoulder. And the closer I get, the more my anxiety increases, because this way I finally have the opportunity to measure the man's not-so-rosy state in detail.

"Woods... " He moans, and as he looks up at me, and the reddish glow in his eyes suddenly dissapears, which prompts me, when I finally reach him, to stumble and fall on my knees next to him, frantically directing my bright eyes at the injuries on his stomach and chest. “Why are you here? " He asks the completely logical question, yet impatience awakens in me from the way he is trying to question my actions through his pain.

"I came to save you." I tell him quickly and matter-of-factly, pushing his body back towards the wall of the alley with trembling hands so that he can rest while I assess the damage. The large cuts on his suntanned skin show off in an angry red color, from the deep furrows of which crimson blood gushes out, soaking what is left of his clothes. And as soon as I see the characteristic texture of the raw meat emerging on his belly, I don't hesitate any longer, I pull myself together and finally get to work. I can now perform what I was brought to do. Fuck!

"Leave me here..." He pleads with a his face distorted by pain, and as he closes his eyes, his head falls back and connects with the bricks with a soft thud, then I place my palms on his wounds without any delay, and fixing my gaze on his body, I aim the tensely bubbling waves of my energy towards him. "Go... Run..." He starts again with the martyr, self-sacrificing speech, and my teeth clench with such force from frustration that I feel my jaw ache from it.

"Shut up, Soap!" I glare at him, and even I myself don't notice what's slipping out of my mouth, but it's just enough to grab the Hunter's languid attention for a moment and snap him out of his self-pity. Only the beginnings of a cheeky smile appear on his lips, but before he can share his witty comment with me, suffering takes over his features again. And I take advantage of his silence to focus all my attention on healing, and as the complicated system of blood vessels, muscles and organs appear in my brain, and then the gaping cuts running across them, I close my eyes and cling to the damaged tissues with my own energy. In my mind, I watch how the torn blood vessels slowly but surely connect again, and I see how the torn fibers of the tissues intertwine, and gradually everything takes on its original, undamaged and flawless state. As the gashes of his wounds slowly disappear under my palms, the muscles that have been tense from agony also relax, and when a relieved sigh escapes from the man's mouth, I know that this will be enough for now. He probably won't die now, and although he still will be weak from the blood loss, he's just well enough to make a break for it. Because my womanly intuition tells me that my entrance was so radical that it will soon attract the scumbags who might have been idly looking around the area until now.

"Pull yourself together, MacTavish, we've got to go!" I warn the man in a firm voice, and shuffilng next to him I reaching under his arm to help him stand up by spreading my hand on his back. Surprisingly, the Hunter obeys my request right away, and hisses as he struggles to a standing position with me, putting his weight on me until he manages to pull himself together ready to go. "We have to get to the cars!" I tell him the facts, which represent the only possibility for survival, and which our other comrades have probably already set their sights on.

MacTavish acknowledges my proposal with only a weak nod, then sets off with me towards the entry of the alley as fast as he can, and I hastily lead him over the cadavers of so many beasts lying in the dust. As we pass the monster-riding F.H.L., I take one last look at its lanky, frighteningly pale body. And so, up close, it's even more unnatural how humanlike the mutation of the virus left it. I can't think of a reasonable explanation for this phenomenon, but since now is not the time for scientific reflection, I will save the whole problem for a later date. In my small room at the base, after a warm shower, I will stretch out in my bed and create hypotheses.

But when we reach the opening of the alley, the demonic growling sounds reach my ear canals again, signaling the approach of another fucking difficulty. These damned bastards never seem to run out, which awakens the suspicion me, that by size of the nest here, something really shady is behind the whole operation. Because it's quite certain that it wan’t the magically accelerated development of the virus that caused this whole tragic circus.

But before my thoughts can go any further, we step out into the street, and with that, we come face to face with the reception committee, who, breaking out of their mourning over the remains of their dead comrades, fix their eyes on us. And when the angry bloodthirst flares up there, I already know that there is still one more obstacle to go before we can even get to the end of the whole pile of shit. I push MacTavish's body against the wall of the building lining the side street, and he just leans against the hole-filled plaster with a weak groan full of suffering. He tries to say something to me, but before he could even start his sermon, I already have the gun in my hand again, and with all my remaining concentration I try to shoot down as many of the beasts swinging towards us almost simultaneously as possible.

And when life intervenes, and after a few shots I run out of ammo, I reach for the supply on my vest with hasty movements, but when the new magazine is just in my grasp, a beast appears in front of me, and I reflexively jump back before it could cut me open with its knife-like claws. And even though I thank the reflexes of my kind, my joy doesn't last long, because during my little maneuver, my foot skillfully finds one of the many pieces of debris lying on the ground. And as the piece of stone drifts under the sole of my boot and knocks me off my balance, I fell on my ass in such a beautiful curve that under other circumstances I would surely get a funny remark from my Scottish friend. But he holds into against the brick wall, hovering on the edge of unconsciousness, and doesn't pay attention to my clumsiness.

I fix my eyes on the monster attacking me, who has now been joined by a couple of its no less-dangerous friends, to end my life together. And I, keeping my eyes on them, reach for another magazine, because I cleverly dropped the previous one in the middle of my landing and released it somewhere among the other rubble. But by this time, the stress makes my movements properly uncoordinated, and although my mind is clear and continues to urge my body to act, my fingers suddenly become clumsy, even though I have already done this a thousand times with my masked trainer. It shouldn't be a problem for me to change a magazine, but as my brain takes in the mutants who are menacingly stalking towards me, waiting to pounce, then almost a short circuit occurs in every corner of my head. And the sly little voice in the back of my skull tells me that the effect of the adrenaline is diminishing, and that the energy I spent on healing the Scottish man is slowing me down at the moment.

However, after a few torturous seconds, my hand finally succeeds, just as the beast that wanted to slice me up gets tired of the slow, sinister stalking and swings towards me, springing into the air. And I aim my weapon at the monster as fast as I can, but before either of us can succeed in executing our attack, a metallic flash appears out of nowhere and hits the monster's head with such force that it splits apart with a gut-wrenching crack like an overripe melon. The dark blood of the mutant splashes on my face, but I'm unable to deal with it, because my mind is much more occupied by the very sinister figure that appears behind the beast falling to the ground.

It takes me a moment to comprehend who has come to save us, and when I finally realize that it's Riley, an indescribable shock washes over me. Because despite the fact that I voluntarily put my life on the line against his firm orders, I'm sufficiently surprised that he's still here. And as his furiously widened, red-glowing eyes survey my form sprawled among the debris, and then move on to his friend, who has fallen to the ground along the wall behind me, dirty with blood, then such a dangerous, ice-cold fury begins to flow from him that it freezes the blood in my veins. And although only the pale shine of the moon gives us some light, I can still clearly see the strained line of his broad shoulders, which makes him look quite like a predator ready to pounce. Even though for a fleeting moment it seems as if he wants to say something, he turns without a word in the direction of the mutants who are still carousing here, and then concentrates the poison that is surely raging inside him on them. And that's when I manage to observe what did he use so skillfully to free me from the bastard attacking me, and his makeshift weapon makes my eyes widen in an almost comical way. Because he lifts the traffic signpost with such ease, as if it were a twig, and with even more effortlessness and faster than that, he hits the devilish creatures leaping towards him with the piece of concrete at its end. And when I understand that this guy tore a fucking traffic sign out of the ground with his bare hands, in order to continue fighting with it, then, in addition to the surprise, something completely different reaches my nervous system, which is struggling to process the events. Because there is something quite animalistic in the way his body pulsates with power as he kills his enemies with the brutal strength and unstoppable momentum of a big cat. I feel a dull tingle in my stomach in an irrational way, and my mouth besomes dry in a fucked up manner as I stare at his strong figure rampaging and killing.

And scolding myself, I divert my attention from the massacare unfolding in front of me before I can even analyze how artistic I find the line of his broad back in the middle of the fucking bloodshed, as he beats down and degrades the I.M.L.s that come in front of him to pulp. Instead, I break out of my observation and get up on my feet again to hurry with quick steps to MacTavish, who is now lying limp at the bottom of the brick wall, immersed in the beneficial darkness of unconsciousness. My fingers carefully slip on his neck, and as I feel the slow, even pulse under the urgent searching of my energy, I calm down and turn back to our savior.

Riley takes care of all the mutants present with surprising speed, and then, when he has mutilated them all beyond recognition, he casually throws away his weapon and it lands with a loud crash on the street, which has now turned into total bloody chaos. It seems that he was able to release the accumulated tension, because when he turns his gaze to us again, he looks far more relaxed, and he strides towards us with confident steps, sizing up our little couple with his eyes. And when he stops next to me, he bends down without comment to throw his Scottish comrade on his back with a rather light movement, as if the well-built man was nothing more than a rag doll. And this is probably the case, if I only consider the way he got his previous weapon.

"Let's go. The others are waitin' for us at the edge of the combat zone." He says briefly, and even I'm surprised at how flat his deep voice sounds, despite the fervor with which he began the slaughter just minutes ago. And I'm not going to present him with an apt remark, but with a silent nod, I agree to his suggestion, because I also can't wait to finally be able to leave this fucking place. And if he hastened so enthusiastically to save us, then I won't talk back to him, thanks to whom my head is still in place. At least for a while, for sure.

The smoldering eyes of the masked man scan my face for a fleeting second, as if searching for something, but then, after a brief nod, he sets off in the direction of the road back, and starts running as fast as if he hadn't fought for half the night and wasn't weighed down by the one of his companions. And certainly, for a Hunter belonging to the SSS class, all of this doesn't pose any particular difficulties, yet for the first time, I'm amazed at the cold professionalism with which he handles this whole situation. After all, it occurs to me that this whole mission ended in a complete disaster, which no one could have predicted. The responsibility for this rests on his shoulders, despite the fact that even he can't predict the future, and even his super-sharp Hunter senses couldn't foresee the series of mishaps and sad accidents that would follow each other during the night. And the fact that we are now in the ruins of the deserted city, fleeing together towards the edge of the combat zone, is also only thanks to the immeasurable benevolence of fate.

We get back to the road we marched down at the beginning of our operation surprisingly quickly, and I'm filled with immeasurable gratitude that I can finally leave this godforsaken pile of ruins behind me, which only enriched me with a lot of new and quite pleasant experiences. Without a doubt, I overachieved the task imposed on me in a quite reckless manner, and I have no doubt that because of this, the man who continues to advance steadfastly in front of me will have an unsolicited word or two for me. But that's the least of the problems I experienced during the night, because his small punishment is dwarfed by what I saw. Because here something quite large had slipped by the wayside, which even Laswell's omniscient little information couldn't have avoided. And suddenly I remember the camera still merrily recording on my chest, and I thank my foresight and her clever procuring skills, because if Price doesn't see with his own eyes what MacTavish and I were able to experience in this goddamn place, then he won't believe it. If someone were to tell me that the I.H.L.s and the I.M.L.s united under their mutant-riding leader and surprised a team of trained Hunters and soldiers who had been through dozens of missions, then I would also offer that person a special medicine to stop imagining things. But this was different. This was reality. And nothing proves it better than the unconscious Scottish guy traveling on the back of the masked Hunter, who suffered this story firsthand. And the dull throbbing in my limbs, left behind by the long-gone adrenaline, is a very nice reminder that I, too, was lucky enough to admire this horror on several occasions. And although, for now, my brain can't dwell on this, I'm sure that I will have a thousand assumptions while watching the nice little recordings. Because we need to find an explanation for this.

When we finally arrive at the edge of the combat zone, and the waiting vans appear in front of me, my heart beating in my chest finally slows down a bit. The members of the Watcher team anxiously survey our arriving small group, and I look at the handful of survivors who remained from the original fifteen-person team that sneaked into the city with a similar gloom. And these four unfortunates have also seen better days, and even though all their limbs are intact at least, I know that as soon as we return to the base, I need to treat them immediately, because they have plenty of injuries to take care of. And this is another cruel stab in the festering wound caused by the events.

"Start the countdown when we leave. We don't leave it up to chance." Riley gives his first instructions to one of the soldiers left behind, who with a quick nod pulls out his remote control and then jumps into one of the vehicles with his companions. And I follow the masked man, who opens the back door of the other car with fast movements, and then, entering, lays his friend on the ground as carefully as if he were made of glass.

None of us waste any more time waiting, because the next step is to escape from here. We also get into the van, and after I find my seat, I lean forward and slide my hand on my patient's neck again, checking his vitals in a quick second, which flickers reassuringly steadily under the curious touch of my energy. Fortunately, I arrived in time to save him, and thanks to Laswell's pampering, I came here full enough to be able to save the man's life. But if I got there even a minute later, or Riley didn't come after us to help my stupid self stuck in the corner, things would be different now. And now, for the first time, I don't find it difficult to admit that even though I don't regret for a minute that I defied him, my dark little heart beats gratefully that nevertheless he rushed to our aid. Even if his efforts were more for his partner than for me.

And instead of brooding, I decide that it's time to regenerate the man with the mohawk a little, because by the time we get back, he should be alert enough to stand in as a witness to tell the story of what happened tonight. I gently place my palm on his neck and direct my force in even waves toward the unconscious MacTavish to breathe life into his exhausted body again. And when Riley throws himself down in front of me after the van takes off with full throttle, my troubled gaze meets his now familiar chocolate-colored eyes. And with an almost habitual sense, I decipher the thoughts swirling in them, which now pose even less of a challenge. Because in his stare, there is exactly the same grim restlessness that has settled in my head.

For a moment, an orange light paints his face as the bombs left behind explode in the distance, and none of us need to say a word to know that tonight is just the beginning of something terribly messed up.

[kiraversee]

Hi! In your magical girl svsss AU, how are the magical girls chosen?? Is it like a birth thing, or does it happen at some point when they are already a certain age?

Because if it is the second, I want to imagine a scene where SY is hanging out with some demon friends and suddenly he is chosen to become a magical girl (be it through a cute creature telling him or just sudden transformation) and both he and his demon friends start to panic because what????

I also want to know if, in the case SY becomes a magical girl (which I just realized could or could not happen), he could try to join a CQM to change the image people have of demons from the inside!

Sorry for the long ask, I just saw your post and got really excited about it!! ✨️🎍✨️

YOU LITERALLY DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW EXCITED I WAS FOR THIS ASK!! LIKE I WAS SO EXCITED(and shy) THAT I COULDN'T READ IT! I HAD TO HAVE MY FRIEND READ IT FIRST THEN TELL ME WHAT YOU SAID!! I AM SO GLAD YOU WERE INTERESTED IN MY LITTLE AU! AHHH I'M SMILING!! also to answer your question, it is from birth and being chosen! Let me explain with a little storytelling:D.

(ps theres a short version of this story under the cut since ik some people like to get to the point:D)

The first ever magical girls were lovely people who fought demons and saved the world countless of times, even though they had to fight demons multiple times even almost risking their lives! They still had time to be in love~ as they grow older they married their now spouse's in a grand ceremony.

In the far future the angel helper that was sent to help the magical girls warned that if a magical girl decided to retire and have children, the power they have now will be distributed upon the magical girls children, leaving the magical girls without magic anymore (ofc if they decide to have children). As the children of the magical girls grow up, they also fall in love and the cycle continues for as long as that magic last. Once many generations have been passed, the magical girls power will be so faint that you will not even be able to do any simple magic spells

If a magical girl does not wish to have children, they will not grow old like the normal humans because the magical girls power is from the heaven's itself, as long as they have their powers they will grow old and slowly die of old age without any health problems.

There was less and less magical girls in the world. The heaven's thought it was a problem because the demons, without strong enough magical girls were reeking havoc again! The heaven's held a meeting and decided to send down angel helpers once in a while to give powers to the most qualified humans the magical girl powers.

Boom done storytime! (Heres a shorter version so u don't have to read all that) So if the magical girls has children, they will inherit the power and the cycle of childbirth continues until the magical girl power eventually just goes poof bc theres so little of it! If a magical girl doesn't want to have children they will grow old and die slowly bc.. powers!!! Once in a while the heaven's will like send an angel helper to give humans magical girl powers.

Actually i do wanna touch on the magical girls power giving thing bc its actually really interesting to me off course!

The heaven's sends out tiny angel helpers to give humans magical girl powers by giving them accessories that pierce into your body, (like an earring) energy will start to invade your immune system and slowly merge with your cells while slowly changing them to be different from a human cells! So technically if you want to like donate blood you can't anymore bc your blood ain't no type A or B anymore, its Type SMG or what it stands for, SPARKLY. MAGICAL. GURL.

Also (i say also a lot) your shen yuan idea is amazing! Like omg! Like that would be so cool if one day its just like

SY: *hanging out with demons then a very sparkly light falls from the sky*

Demons: "what the f-"

Angel: "WAHHHH THAT FALL HURT! I SHOULD'VE USED MY WINGS 😭"

demon's and SY: *extremely confused????One demon sneaks up and hits it with a pan, Rapunzel style!*

(I'm not very good with skits so if any of y'all have a better skit ideas, share em! I would love to read em!)

Boom that short skit of how i imagine that scenario would go! I've decided to give SY clingy angel helper bc rivalry with binghe why not.

Oh yeah to answer your question, I could definitely see SY joining CQM bc he wants his demon friends to live freely in the human world!

Also i very very veryyyy much appreciate your ask! It was also very fun to read how much you enjoy my au!! I'm terribly sorry if there is any grammar mistakes😅 or if my explanations are very confusing! English is not my first language... (its my 3rd language)

[inventedfangirling]

Nanon + Khao in 55:15 Never Too Late appreciation post

I had been wanting to watch "55:15 never too late" for the LONGEST time. For several reasons not least among them was that it featured two of my most favourite thai actors - nanon & khaotung. And pls the premise of five 55 year olds returning to their younger 15 yr old bodies in order to make some changes to their past selves and the hijinks that ensue is interesting enough. But ofc the prime reason i was there was to watch the acting masterclass that i knew nanon and khaotung would deliver. I'm only 3 episodes in but im already bowled over.

Nanon especially. I don't know if there is any role that he can't do. he just becomes the role he is doing. It's virtually impossible to see nanon in the role he is playing.

This scene where he is hiding from prim. What shook me was just how much of childishness nanon was able to convey in this scene. He's playing a 15 year old after all. And he does an excellent job of it. Not at all in a forced caricature sorta way. In fact he was so convincing i had to replay several scenes multiple times. It was so very impressive.

And look at that. That's pining personified and you cant even see his face. He is just THAAAT good.

His body language, his micro-expressions, the delivery of dialogues, everything is just pure perfection.

Look at him absolutely nail the look of a lost hurt child who doesn't know who or what to turn to. He really has no business being this good!?!

I was in a bad mood when i was watching that episode. But Nanon is just so good at his job that by sheer force of his acting brilliance he turned my mood around.

His dimples helped for sure. of course.

i mean LOOK AT THEM.

This scene was especially fantastic. Really fun to watch.

But i meant something much more intangible.

You know that feeling when you feel better just by seeing certain works of art, a painting or a sketch, or if you're looking at the sky, or listening to a piece of music, just knowing that such beauty exists in the world by itself enough to lift you up?

Watching Nanon do his thing in this episode felt more or less like that!

Especially this scene that took my breath away.

How was he just 20 when he did this??? it's so mind blowing!

I'll never not be beyond grateful that i decided to watch bad buddy, cos 1. it gave me patpran and 2. it gave me nanon! one of the finest actors i have seen in my entire life. EVER. And he's just 22? I really can't wait to see what all he does over the course of his acting career!

Episode 3 follows the adventures of Khaotung's character "Songpol". I loved his story the most out of all 5 of them. No surprises here. How it's about an adult closeted gay man decides to stop suppressing his identity and live out a life he had denied himself all along. How he has known that he was gay for decades but because he hid that part, he still remains a sorta baby gay at the age of 55, and how this time/body reversal situation gives him a second chance at a more free life.

And while there were fewer opportunities for moments of acting brilliance, he did amazingly well in whatever there was.

And more importantly there wasn't a single second where he was on screen where my heart wasn't brimming with affection.

I especially am LOVING this gay uncle and supportive niece dynamic. We usually see it the other way around so loving this twist on the usual trope. Also khaotung does SO well in this scene where he is occupying his 15 yr old body but his facial expressions reveal the maturity of a 55 year old uncle of his niece who he is talking to.

Also LOVING the way he fanboys over "Jaya".

His devotion is so visible. It's unbelievably endearing. I would make a home for him in my pocket if i could.

Like that's MY baby. A whole cutie patootie.

And also he is SO so handsome i could just watch him just existing for hours.

Gorgeousness🤌

I'm so excited for him to be living out his happy dream gay life. He deserves it so much. Pining for decades and then finally going to confess and then finding out he has found somebody else yet again, just next level of pain. He needs his happy ending. And he better be getting it. I am really looking forward to it.

What i'm not looking forward to is how the multiple love triangles the show has already set up is going to blow up in everyone's faces. It's such an annoying trope. But ANYTHING for a show featuring Nanon and Khao. And for the most parts i am LOVING this show, hopefully i will love it till the end :')

[honestmouse20]

I am Back from vacation! Thought on new ninjago season under the cut :)

First off, I just wanna say that I watched it at 6am in my hotel room with headphones while my friend slept next to me lol. So I watched it all again yesterday too. Turns out I'd missed a Lot.

I really loved the pacing in this! Each character to me felt like they all had something to do and it all went towards the plot. Wildfyre learned to slow down and let herself heal, Kai and Nya both learned the paitence and tecnique to do Rising Dragon. Lloyd OFC got a Lot to do with his visions and panic attacks! I really liked how they handled his mental health in this one. Cole being back didn't feel forced! he was there bc Bonzal was essential to Ras' plan. Sora got a ton of development and I do wonder if they'll have her learn spinjitzu in part 2. And of course, Arin. Boy is Going Through it. It's a nice parallel to Lloyd also having a rough time. While Lloyd is haunted by possible futures, Arin is terrified of not being Good Enough to contribute to the team Or to make his parents proud.

This post would be hella long if i rambled about everything i loved in this season But I wanna highlight Some of my favs!

Cole and Geo Constantly holding hands and leaning on eachother (and geo's flashback to s1 being changed so they're holidng hands More)

Bonzle's whole arc and how she's a person now! Hella trans implications and also just a really sweet story when they show that she Does have agency and her creator Does recongnize and care for her

Sora and Arin's dymanic continues to be Really Good! I like how the initial excitement for being a ninja has worn off and they're starting to struggle.

Speaking of Arin, I stg that scene of him and Ras fighitng in the last couple episodes makes me think we're gonna get a dark Arin arc. Maybe he won't Stay evil (I don't want him to be a villan but they Could go that way if they want) but seeing Lloyd's reaction to his student turning sides would be very angsty and Very good

Also Lloyd in this was So good! Even tho he's trying very hard to be a Master and the keeper of the monastary, he's struggling and these visions are only making it harder on him. I'm sure we havn't seen the end of these visions and I'm sorta hoping they'll come to some big breaking point for him in part 2. Where he'll have to drag himself back up and Never Quit despite everything falling apart just like the visions said it would

Once again this show made me like kai again lol. HIs relationship with Nya and Wildfyre is So good and you really can see the similarities in how he interacts with them!

lloyd's power confirmed to be life????

why is no one talking abobut that ? did i read it wrong???

Onto some things i didn't Quite like but definatly didn't hate!

Ras' master is like 90 percent gonna be the Overlord. I'm aprehensive on this bc he's not really my favorite villan. Plus like he was Just the villan in crystalized so i feel like it's too soon for him to come back. once again gonna give this show the benefit of the doubt bc they've done a lto of stuff Really Really well. I'm just sorta hoping it's Not the overlord. Plus the powers were golden and that's Not the overlord's colors

what is timeline?????

i thought the shorts were two years after s1 and that s2 was gonna be between the shorts and s1???? but now the shorts are at the Beginning of the season and ryu is a teenage dragon? how long has passed? If it's been a couple years since season 1, it's a little less believable that arin and sora havn't progressed much fruther in their training. also no one Acts like it's been years?? But if it's Not a couple of years and Ryu just Grew up like that it's still a bit iffy. Ik they probably won't tell us exact times but I hope it's implied or Something bc im hella confused

so, tldr: This half of the season was Fantastic! From the animation being Incredible and the relationships between the characters being super interesting and realistic, this season was a ride from start to finish! I'm excited, and a bit scared, to see what part 2 brings!

[saintarmand]

IWTV Ask Game

2. How did you find out about or discover it?

i'd seen the movie before and when the trailer came out i thought it looked really good so it was on my radar before it came out. but the reason i actually started watching was that i was disappointed in house of the dragon bc daemon and rhaenyra weren't a toxic enough couple when they actually got together and i wanted to watch some toxic romance. lol

ok long version of the story! (sorry if you don't care about hotd lol)

i was really excited about hotd after the trailers started coming out and like the freak i am, i was especially excited to see the insane uncle/niece incest grooming go from gross to fun when they eventually marry and fight a war and everything goes wrong and they're both crazy and toxic and evil. that's my idea of a good time. this shot from the trailer in particular had me excited for this dynamic:

and the beginning was so promising, their scenes when she's still a teenager played by the younger actress milly alcock are very intriguing! creepy but intriguing.

but then episode 7 happens. i knew ahead of time that the plot of the episode was that daemon's wife has just died and at her funeral he fucks his niece, as you do, and then suddenly rhaenyra's husband also dies and they get married for succession war reasons without permission from her father the king who would fucking hate this. insane sequence of events! and i'd heard that the marriage ceremony was going to be valyrian rites with blood and stuff. for the uninitiated, valyrian refers to the (mostly) lost civilization of blond people who ride dragons and do incest and they're rumored to have done blood magic and stuff. so i had high hopes for this whole valyrian marriage rites scene. a blood sacrifice? some animal or...? an altar with LOTS of blood! their dragons take to the air! they should fuck on the bloody altar while their dragons fuck in the air! either way the visuals will be insane and amazing!

yeah, so the episode airs. and i'm BORED. they made this shit boring somehow. the dialogue is bad and so is the directing. they have a bland conversation about their respective marriages and then have some tepid sex. it just doesn't look like they're that into it even. was that intentional? i cant tell. other more interesting stuff happens and then close to the end of the ep shes like uncle i need you so i can win the eventual war that everyone knows is going to be break out so we should get married. hes like hmm ok. but shes already married so they fake her husband's death so he can sail into the sunset with his boyfriend. toxicity and evilness toned down as much as possible. then they marry and the valyrian ritual is just like. fine. no dragons. they cut their palms so there is blood. if i saw it without prior expectations i'd probably think it was kinda cool but i had built it up in my head to be way cooler so.

in the next episode they kinda just act like a normal couple. despite the whole incest age gap uncle niece grooming shit. i wanted them to be screaming. i am sad about it.

im on tumblr and i see a post with a jacob anderson quote saying iwtv is basically a show about a married couple slamming doors on each other. i'd seen some gifs and ofc i'd seen the trailer months ago but this makes me go !!!!! THIS could be the toxic marriage i was looking for! i go watch it immediately. two episodes have aired so far but it only took me one to fall in love! new obsession unlocked! louis de pointe du lac is my truest love!

at that point im barely able to give half a shit about hotd anymore, i dont even watch the last two eps until days or weeks later. (in the last episode daemon and rhaenyra do get more interesting as they have some tension over him acting like he's in charge even though she's the queen and he's just her consort. he also strangles her a bit when he gets upset, which is very unsurprising from a misogynistic violent man who murdered his first wife (of 3) but some people were shocked. insert iwtv comparison here.) (i've also rewatched hotd with new eyes recently and enjoyed those episodes a lot more when i didnt have my own expectations clouding everything. i WOULD recommend the show for anyone who thinks family drama leading to a literal war feat. dragons sounds like a fun time. it is good and hopefully will be continue to be! also that quote from the showrunner saying daemon wanted to marry his brother and his niece was the closest he could get to was fucking life changing. ryan condal said gay targcest rights. also rhaenicent<3)

anyway iwtv becomes my #1 obsession from episode one and has stayed that way ever since!

iwtv ask game (sorry for mostly talking about a whole different show here lmao)

[mipwrites]

WIP TAG GAME

Thanks @isahorcrux for the tag!! I love WIP games, and it is nice to check in and let everyone know where youre at in terms of writing! I have a lot in the pipe I haven't even hinted at for writing lmao

Guide:

1. List the titles your top five priorities for WIP updates (link your fics for new readers!)

2. An upcoming scene, event, or detail in each fic that you're looking forward to writing

3. Bonus: make a poll for your followers to vote on which top 5 WIP they are most excited to see an update on!

4. Then tag 10 writer friends!

Titles

A Court of Snow and Shadow Chapter Four -- ACOTAR, Azriel/OFC multi-chapter.

2. Sermon Chapter Eleven -- Batman, JasonEra!Robin Jason/OFC multi-chapter.

3. currently untitled Teen Wolf fic -- Derek Hale/OFC multi-chapter

4. ACOSAS Sequel A Court of Song and Flame -- ACOTAR, IC!Children fic, multi-chap

5. currently untitled Reacher fic -- Reacher (TV series), Reacher/Roscoe whatif! fic - possibly a one shot, more likely short multichapter.

Spoilers Abound Ahead! Turnback now!!!

Upcoming Writing

1. I've been incredibly sick for the last few weeks, so my goal to get chapter four out by the end of February likely will not happen, but I am so excited for this chapter. We're getting into Nyra's POV here, and diving deeper into Winter Court dynamics and her feelings on everything that happened. Her internal monologue has consistently made me laugh while writing, she's hilarious lol.

2. Sermon has been my white whale since 2017 lmao. I took two years (!!!) off because it stressed me out so much just staring at that document, plus everything else going on in my life. But I'm determined to finish it!! and now that actual plot is happening and all the exposition is over, I think that will be a lot easier. I love my lil babies cannot wait to finish their stories lmao.

3. So this one came to me once the Teen Wolf movie came out and uh....I had some issues with it. Namely how this entire series treated Derek. But I also was really interested in the idea of Derek being a parent, and all the questions around that - like who was Eli's mother? Where is she? What would rebuilding a werewolf pack like the Hales *look* like? I delved into it and sadly never found anything concrete enough to plan around, but I may rewatch the series again to get some inspo if there's enough interest.

4. Okay, so yes, I haven't even finished ACOSAS yet, why am I thinking about a sequel lol. Honestly, I just got really interested in what the Inner Court's children would be like, and quickly found myself pulled under lol. A Court of Song and Flame focuses on [SPOILER] Azriel and Nyra's daughter, Aella, and her relationship with a certain son of an Autumn Court Prince. It sort of turned into a buddy cop/romcom/mystery and I really, really love the idea. Just gotta finish ACOSAS!!!

5. I. Love. The. Reacher. TV Show!!! I found the first season so fun and compelling, and just absolutely fell in love with Roscoe. I had this idea of "what if, after leaving Margrave, one day a blonde teenager comes calling to find a father her mother only had stories of. Chaos ensues. I only have the first threads of it but I hope to expand it later.

Tagging a whole host of people that I'm sure might have already been tagged: @thequibblah @clare-with-no-i @emeralddoeadeer @sunshinemarauder @noneedforbloodpressure @acourtofwhatthefuck and anyone else who'd like to do the wip tag!

[chaos-and-recover]

Sorry for all the info dumping but when I reread my asks and your answers I realized I did kinda make the story seem like this big crazy exciting tale but mostly it's just cringe. But I have a healthy group of friends now and a part time job at a daycare center, I'm dating a woman who has a few Real Person Ships in a normal healthy way. I didn't ever talk to my therapist about Larry bc I lost interest in it due to everything else going on, but I've talked about it with her and she's taught me how to healthily engage in fandoms whether fictional characters or real people. So everything worked out.

Here's the story and why I will eventually have to send out apologies but idk if I will be able to bc most of my friends and much if my family cut me put. My moral OCD mixed i think with my "justice brained autism" and ppl will think oh that's great but it's not. In high school ppl thought it was great I led GSA groups and parades, but whennthey git to know me personally it would end in screaming matches and sometimes even physical fights and I always left thinking they deserved it and I was the Good Guy and they were the Bad Guy so I did not need to introspect. I git kicked out of GSA and expelled from school but still felt like I was in the right. I would tell a very twisted up version of events that was basically a lie BUT I didn't realize I was lying because that's how I "felt." I got kicked out of GSA and expelled bc I sent the VP to the hospital bc she "thinks women deserves rape" bc she shipped Spike/Buffy. (I'm showing my age here.) I did not tell my parents my evidence, just that she loved watching men rape women and openly thought women deserves to be raped. Based on the fact she shipped a ship. I made a hella leap and thought that was fact. I genuinely believed that was all the evidence I needed. So ofc my parents believed me and supported me bc obviously if she denied it she was lying. Not like me. I'm a horrible liar. (I am. I can't lie to save my life. But I was very good at convincing myself what I thought and felt was true and therefore not a lie.) This repeated throughout my life. I moved away to go to college. Ans lo and behold not a lot of ppl want to make friends with ppl who genuinely believe someone is evil based off random criteria. If you listened to Michael Jackson, I would accuse you of support pedophilia. If you listened to The Beatles, I would accuse you if being a wife beater. If you watched South Park or Family Guy or It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia or Bojack Horseman, guess what? You were literally evil and anything I did to you was deserved. Bc justice. I got kicked out of college and put in jail bc I threw a punch at a professor. My choice was a fine or community service. I chose community service.

Job as a waiter? Fired within 3 months bc while i made hella bank bc I could be very sweet "if you deserved it" all it took was a man who appeared older than his wife calling her Princess for me to dump his meal in his lap and call him a pig. Gas station attendant? Mother snapped at her child bc her kid was making massive scene. I refused service and tapped the sign saying I could bc she was a child abuser. She spoke to the manager. Dishwasher? I did lots of dishwasher jobs bc ans now I know it's lack of human contact that made those last longer than others. But someone would watch Game of Thrones or watch Sherlock (sexist) or Supernatural (homophobic) and I'd end up having a massive blowout screaming match. I'd do it enough that eventually that third write would come. During 2020 i got unemployment but when I had to get a job again it was hard bc I had so many terminations under my belt. It was a dishwasher job. Fired within a month. I used to be a big HP fan, ofc I burned all my books when we all figured JKR was a terf. One of the cooks had a DH tattoo and even though he said he hasn't bought any merch since, he didn't burn the books or remove the tattoo so I spent the next two weeks just verbally harassing him. He never said anything back. Pulled into HR. Fired for harassment of a transgender man. Had to be escorted out. Somehow got a job at a local coffee shop. Nonbinary and tran woman, both HP fans. Fired within a month for harassment of trans ppl. At this point I was evicted bc moratorium ended, had hacked up insane debt, and moved back home. We talked frequently but ofc I always told them MY truth. And when I moved back in they introduced me to a friend that had made and I, based off the fact they mentioned wanting to watch a Quentin Tarantino film they hadn't seen yet but liked his other stuff, demanded they leave my house. Made a scene. My parents sat me down and had this really hard conversation where they've been noticing a pattern in my life. I of course screamed and said they were evil people and fought my dad in the living room. They didn't press charges but gave an ultimatum. Therapy, or find my own place. Saved my life, tbh. I'm on medication and it isn't always easy but life is getting better. Moral OCD and "justice autism" sound so awesome on tumblr and ppl on tumblr especially trigger it and even encourage it. It's hard to explain about "having really intense morals and obsession with justice" is a bad thing esp when your online friends amp it up like damn u r a true hero!!1 and say they wish they had the guts. Well now I keep thinking about how many times security had to escort me from somewhere bc someone wore a Snape/Marilyn Manson/David Bowie/John Lennon shirt and i made a scene, or how many of those online friends eventually blocked me and warned everybody else about how dangerous I was, or how my mom had to write my cover letter and fill out my application for me to make it palatable to my current employer. I will be 40 soon and I feel like I'm in my early 20s bc I've lost my years to mental illness. I even hesitated to send this bc I feel like ppl will be like lol oh sure, silly little fandom drama, nobody cares, but i imagine Larry Shipper felt that way too bc "fandom drama is so dumb" like it's Not A Big Deal, and Nobody Cares That Much. And that's partly why I got as bad as I did bc ppl around me didn't think I was being serious. But in junior high I actually shoved someone down a small flight of stairs bc I found her ff.net profile and saw she wrote dramione fanfic. Nobody saw me do it and I thought it was the universe congratulating me. That or some ppl might post that good for her gif. Bc I got sent that gif a lot. They always think its great. Until I find smth about them. And there is ALWAYS smth.

Well this was a surprise to find in my inbox today, but anon I'm glad you sent it because I feel like the way you describe the consequences of moral OCD is really important. I've kind of wanted to grab a few followers/mutuals by the lapels and say "hey I think you might have moral OCD!!!!!" for a hot minute now because I have Seen Some Shit so I hope some of em might recognize themselves in this. I also have some mutuals I think who've been on the receiving end of this kind of thing.

Not that it will help because I'm not any kind of professional and don't have moral OCD myself, but if you (or anyone reading this who might recognize themselves in the story) take a moment to offer the benefit of the doubt, it can help. I know many people who have not fully and actively denounced JKR and HP and instead of believing they endorse her shitty, shitty views I just realize "oh. They're just not terminally online." Because lbr if you're not on Tumblr or Twitter you probably haven't seen all the bullshit she keeps saying and doing and might legitimately not know she's a full mask-off TERF.

Anyway idk how helpful that is. But also, I'll be 40 in a few months and also feel kind of "behind" without any major mental health setbacks. I almost feel like for our generation we straight up don't have the same trajectory our parents had. Most of my friends of a similar age aren't "where they should be" in terms of where our parents were at that age. I know like, three people in their 30s who actually own a home, and a lot more who struggle to find a job that a) they actually can tolerate, b) pays enough to live on and c) they can stay in long-term, whether because of their own health or just because employers are trash.

I'm not sure what my point is here except that I think you're doing fine and as long as you're taking care of yourself. You'll figure it out!

[findroleplay]

looking for a TGCF (Heaven Official's Blessing) OCxOC MxM RP!

˚.⋆ ✶ THE BASICS:✶₊⊹

i'm 17 years old, semi-lit/lit, past tense and 3rd person, 4-6 paragraphs but i mirror (and sometimes break discord limit a bit) but ofc it depends on the context of what is happening in the scene i reply at least once a week but usually twice-thrice depending on how busy i am, i'll make a private discord server for organization, i like to plot HEAVILY OOC before starting an RP, so i'm looking for someone to get excited with over our OCs writing samples will be exchanged just to make sure we are both s good fit for eachother! i'll warn you i have quite a bit of OC info spam to spam—i've just been cooking this idea in my head for a while! i'll have separate channels for us to put character info in but my OC detailed bio freak does not need to be matched 😭 you can check out the private discord RP part of my CARRD here <3

˚.⋆ ✶ THE PLOT:✶₊⊹

i've read the first two books, watched the donghua and i'm on and off reading the manhua—though i have been spoilered, hyperfixated and researched enough myself to basically know the whole plot of the novels anyway, LMAO. the RP would follow vaguely the timeline of the novels, and it would follow my OC (a somewhat cold and not very loved martial god of new beginnings and revolutions) and your OC (an another martial god?) off on heavenly official adventures! the RP would mostly focus on them, though we can play CC here and there if they are needed for the plot. and as i said at the start, i do like to plot fairly heavily before starting an RP and each scene, just so we both know vaguely where we are starting and where we are heading off to. as for your OC—it can be anyone! free reign, have fun! TGCF is quite the dark story, so of course darker themes will pop up—triggers and such will be discussed if you have any!! i'm also VERY down for slowburn and angst!

˚.⋆ ✶ if interested, please DM with a bit about yourself/your RP and/or ideas/oc! we'll chat like that for a bit just to discuss, and if everything is a good match we'll move to discord! ✶₊⊹

-

[minnowtes]

Okay, so I do want to start with: Amazing job writing Urianger's dialogue. I find that he's the hardest to really write due to his usage of language and you nailed it!

It's interesting to me to see Vivi interacting with the other Scions bc I think this will be the first time we really get to see their dynamic with him and how he behaves around them. I recall you mentioning that he's very much like a mirror, and ofc that never changed in him, but the person in front of the mirror isn't always the same. I'm excited to see what that'll be like!

I can already see it in how he talks to Urianger here, he's mellowed out quite a bit. Urianger isn't always high energy, and being in his presence for a while I feel like Vivi is adjusting to match him after having all that fun in Il Mheg.

I love how indoors always is so dim and warm because the shots going outside with Vivi's 😑 face are both really funny and useful in showing us the intense change in lighting. I remember how it aches a little to be in the presence of super bright light after being in dim lighting for so long. There are no words, but seeing Vivi's expression, I feel like he's thinking "Ew turn it off" in some capacity which

Big mood.

Alisaie is here!! Her eye colour looks so nice ;w; I love the way you colour your works idk if I say that enough.

Once more, no words are said but I feel that between these two they don't need too many, at least not right now. Sbdks Vivi bracing for a punch but he's still ready for a hug, and also I love that they start off their reunion with a hug. Alisaie isn't very physically affectionate in game and, while I'm not sure if that's changed in your story, I feel that it's very impactful that they do hug here. Or at least she hugs him. Because to me it shows that they're both comfortable enough with each other to some extent, enough for hugs anyway.

Also I'm reminded of Episode 12 where she says "he makes me look stupid for caring about him" because she Does care about him and I think he knows that. Compared to Thancred's response "I don't know Vivien Rell", I wonder if Alisaie is one of the few Scions who Does know, even just a small part of him. Especially because she's pretty honest and open about how Much she cares about you.

I wonder if his relationship with Thancred will change at all. Thancred has a huge arc finish in Shadowbringers that I think wraps his character really nicely, I wonder if that'll do anything to change how these two are with each other. Ik I said it a lot, but I really am excited to see what you do with them.

Does Vivi accept physical touch from any of the Scions? I'm sure we'll see, but this feels like the first time we ever see him receive a hug? Like an "I'm glad you're okay" hug. He deserves hugs.

I love how you draw his smile when he sees Alisaie. He didn't smile during his talk with Urianger, and Uri only smiled like he was tired. I also love how his smile disappears when she starts walking towards him sbdjs also because you wrote that he's preparing for anything.

Alisaie is on a Mission.

Smaller details: I love how you drew Alisaie's step towards Vivi. The separation of the sand, the impact and the weight of her whole body in that one step, it's really cool how you did that. The shadows on her face, the way they're both in the shade, it makes the mood feel almost somber or bittersweet even. Vivi doesn't mention the other Scions much, but given his smile from earlier it looks like he really was concerned for them. The sin eater dissipating looks really pretty with all the sparkles and the light dust particles. Vivi's hair moved in a little gust of wind, from when Alisaie landed on the sand? Also the way their hair moves when they move is really nice! It must take a lot of work to be able to put down small details like this.

Also Urianger is smoking a pipe? I love that detail. Something abt it feels so cozy. That quiet moment before the inevitable storm that is the Entire Shadowbringers Expansion.

I put a lot of energy and comments into thinking about Alisaie and Vivi specifically, but it's energy and words well spent. I love this episode. Not much is said but there's so much to see in every line you make and I love it all. Thank you for sharing!

✧✦✧ “Fragments” - episode 26 ✧✦✧

Ah, there she is. Vivi's happy to reunite with Alisaie, but he routinely prepares for anything ranging from hugs to punches.

New reader? Start here: @ffxiv-fragments

[whaleofatjme1920]

Headcanons of Desmond's life on the run? :)

Demond's Life on the Run

Sorry this took so long, I have been immensely busy. Anyways, here's Demond thoughts.

Most assassins have to grow up immensely fast. It just comes with the territory, y'know?

However, when Desmond decided that enough was enough, he made the decision to run off and pursue his own happiness and dreams.

He grew up IMMENSELY fast.

Honestly having the skills of an assassin at such a young age really helped him lmfao. Those really came in handy.

He was honestly,,,, a little shady,,,,,,,,,

I think he already had traits of his ancestors in his habits. Ezio's charm, Altair.... Altair. Edward's wit, Haytham's class (even though it was really, really shoddy class lmfao), and Connor's strength.

Ofc, we know that he hitchhiked for a while before finally getting referenced to NY.

He met some wild people, had a lot of good life experience. Honestly, I think Desmond kinda liked being a vagabond.

Desmond learned so much about the world outside of assassin and Templar business by traveling with other people. Those are some precious stories he'll never forget.

He thinks the badlands are beautiful, no, I am not taking any questions. There are days he'd spend the mornings just gazing out at the scenery, see some tumble weeds, listen to the breeze and feel at ease.

After being recommended to NY, nothing was really the same for him. It excited him, and next thing he knew, he was there.

The lights of the city at night are some of the most beautiful sights in his opinion.

Again, this boy was shady as all hell. He had to do some interesting things to survive. Steal, different identities, not keep one singular backstory, it was a tad mentally taxing for him!

Yes, he did miss his family and friends.

Anyways, Demons was a handsome guy growing up. It's why he got hired at Bad Weather, or at least why he thinks he was hired.

Desmond was surprisingly a natural at bar tending.

He liked to experiment with different types of drinks before finally making his signature "Shirley Templar".

I think Desmond is a natural social butterfly. He was the most friendly bartender and always good for conversation. He had a sunshiny attitude, kinda dry humor and wit. He was just really, really fun.

Y'know, I also get the vibe he was paranoid of certain patrons at the bar. That's probably where Altair's traits fit in. He was always observing, never resting.

One time, he saw someone that looked like his dad and had a panic attack. He couldn't breathe, thought he'd been discovered. Every now and then, he thought he saw a familiar face walk in and he'd have the same reaction.

He would never be able to look those patrons in the eye.

Desmond liked just blending into people while living in the city.

He was friendly, but also kept to himself. Ezio energy.

The hustle and bustle suited him really, really well.

I know everything else says he was really gruff and cynical, but I refuse that. Deadass refuse that. I think he was a natural people magnet and made people laugh to some degree.

He's a bit sarcastic but most people took that as charming. Every now and then, he would rival Edward's wit.

A little sadder, but I think he was so incredibly lonely. People knew about him, but no one really, really knew him. I mean, there was one woman, but even then that was extremely surface level. So surface level, that he didn't even know about Elijah.

Anyways, Desmond would sometimes stare at the ceiling in bed and watch as the lights danced over head, remembering looking at the stars when he was a child.

He wondered if his dad even cared.

Desmond really shouldn't be left alone with his thoughts, if I'm being honest.

I don't know is Desmond ever really planned to live a long life or even if he felt he had much purpose despite feeling relatively comfortable at Bad Weather.

Was he glad he left the farm?

Yeah, he was. But, sometimes you get homesick.

That feeling never really dissipated, regardless of how hard he tried to shove it to the back of his head.

[animagician]

Hello hello! I'm writing research paper for school about the DSMP and it's possitive effects on pop culture and people and I was wondering if I could use you as a source as someone who has gained positively throughout the rise of the DSMP's popularity and has actively benefited from its popularity (I'm ofc gonna talk about SAD-IST and Derivakat but I can only really go off my bias for them as there aren't other papers I can cite). So when life gives to lemons you make potato salad and I'm just basically going the extra mile and creating my own source to cite. If you say no, it doesn't matter all that much to me, I'll just go back to plan A but I thought of this while writing and thought it'd be a cool idea./gen

I'll ask the questions in anon because I don't want my teacher to find my Tumblr lol.

How did you get into the fandom?

You have, as if writing this, 91.6K subs on YouTube with your too video at 1.1M views by just talking about a Minecraft role play server, did you think you'd get that popular or was it more of a passion project?

What about the story or server inspires you?

Is this just a steping stone or do you think you'll continue making Minecraft centered content for a while?

Thank you for your time! ^_^

hello school is a bitch and so i am more than happy to help (if this is the person's teacher reading this i am so sorry for swearing. iw ill be continuing to do so however)

I got into the fandom via Wilbur! I'd become a fan of Soothouse just before it died (RIP) and was fairly active in the preDSMP Minecraft fandom, watching HermitCraft and nothing else. Then, as my interest in Minecraft gradually waned, Wilbur started to make Minecraft videos again (though I confess, I wasn't around for the EARLY early stuff), and this reignited my interest in the fandom. Wilbur led to Tommy, Techno had always been an interest of mine though (as I said) Minecraft content had started to take a backseat - and all of these things culminated in me being so goddamn excited about this dumb minecraft roleplay server that i *had* to make a video about it, even though all i really did at the time was make SMP survival let's plays.

honestly? i never even expected to get 10k, and that was my end goal when i started youtube. making content is, was, and will be incredibly fun for me, i do it in my free time and the channel is a passion project in the purest form of the word. HOWEVER, once the channel started to really do well, i set my sights FIRMLY on 1 million and will not be truly satisfied until i, as the kids say, hit that

as for what inspired me, it's just the storytelling ability that these creators have as well as the genuine feeling that they managed to convey through a medium that looks and feels anything but real (i actually am probably going to elaborate on this in my 100k video for a long bit but in the meanwhile this is a good summary)

honestly, i just want to keep talking about the shit that excites me. i want to have the creative freedom to think of an idea that makes me wanna get out of bed and actually be able to do that - a great example could be the clips channel video, or talking about the wilbur songs. those topics were genuinely incredibly fun to research and talk about, and if my interest remains within minecraft, yeah, i'll be making minecraft stuff for a while. if not though, i'm gonna try and pivot and hope to god that an audience as fickle as mine cares enough to join me on a journey that really, only i will be able to navigate.

hope that helps!

[ivyaugustetc]

hello!! i'm giving you pure creative freedom here, do whatever you please!!

i'll try my best to describe myself, as that is my fatal flaw. i have green eyes and messy brown hair. my classic scent is marine water and driftwood. im a entp, aquarius, and slytherin. i use the pronouns she/her. i'm extremely stubborn, i have a good sense of humor, and i love learning. i also love to argue/debate, and i'll do anything to win [even if I'm wrong, but i'm never wrong ;)]. i probably need glasses, but alas, my stubbornness kicks in so i'll never admit it. my favourite hobbies are reading, writing, researching, and baking. i love learning about all types of mythology + astrology. i have a knack for history, and i'm super into foraging, although I don't get to practice it much! i play many sports, some of which including ice hockey, baseball, and volleyball. i would describe my aesthetic as a mix of academia, cottagecore, and goblincore. i have an extremely flirtatious personality, even when i don't mean to come across that way. my friends say i have an old soul- they also say i'm a nerd but we don't talk about that. i was on our schools honor roll and I received two other awards, one for my academic achievement and one for my leadership skills. i am a die-hard romantic, although i'm the person you least expect it from.

hopefully this information will suffice!! I'm excited to see what you come up with :)

hey!! this is so much good information omg i love it i have SO MUCH, this one was so fun to write. okay okay here we go:

ship: i ship you with cameron + you would be besties with meeks and stick!

notes:

you're like a more adventurous version of cameron, and that's something that simultaneously draws him to you and give him a healthy fear of you ;)

allow me to elaborate: he's convinced that he can get good grades and keep himself stable whilst keeping his head down and doing his work—you manage to do both of those things while being an absolute firecracker of a person

and besides just school, you're into so many other forms of learning and all these other athletic pursuits that he's just like how can one person do all these things and be great at it???

little bit of enemies to lovers coming up here

at some point in class you'd get paired up for a debate and spend a lot of your time socializing with your group mates and having a good time, which cameron, in all of his smug hard work, thinks is a good thing because he'll be able to crush you in the debate

long story short, he does not

you end up in a heated debate in the front of the classroom, both of you just throwing knowledge back and forth at each other with so much aggression and of course you wipe the floor with him and win the whole thing

you just brush it off because duh, ofc you won you're always right, but cameron cannot stop thinking about it

it haunts him for so long that he eventually goes over to your dorm, knocks on the door, and when you open it he asks, "how did you do it." "what do you mean?" "the debate."

and so you invite him in and show him how you planned out your argument and stuff and he's like "...it's oddly simple?" and thus you introduce him to the fact that you can be smart and do well without being wound up so tight that you might spontaneously convulse ;)

he still doesn't believe you, so you take it upon yourself to show him the magic of not giving a shit while also giving a shit

you encourage him to have fun and think more freely rather than within the rigid guidelines of how the school teaches you to think

you show him that there's more to life than just work, something he probably wouldn't have been able to figure out on his own

and he starts to enjoy not just the new mindset, but hanging out with you and getting to know you :)

onto you and meeks!

you and meeks are similar in the having an old soul, he gives me really smart old man trapped in a teenager's body kinda vibes??

but you always want to be grouped with him for projects and stuff because you get the info dump and he makes it neat and organized

and at some point when cameron asks him about you, he describes you as someone who's really nice and fun to be around

i firmly believe that meeks loves mythology and astrology as well and therefore you would have conversations about it that would last HOURS about everything pertaining to those subjects

like a teacher would say something semi controversial and you'd lean over to meeks and whisper "that's very scorpio of him to say" and he'd be like "i was thinking the exact same thing"

onto your partner in crime (and my future husband but whatever), stick!!

this boy represents your chaotic side,,,, sO WELL

i have this weirdly specific idea that you would meet because you could simply not see the board (but again, you're too stubborn to get glasses) and you would ask to borrow his for a second and he would just. go with it.

and now every time the teacher writes something on the board, he just hands you his glasses long enough for you to write down the info in your notes

i just imagine you two walking down the hallways together, cackling over your own jokes and thinking you're the actual epitome of comedy (which u are, duh)

he would listen to your sports talk because he doesn't play sports but his brother does so he knows all about them

he gets the flirtatious personality and he also has one lmao which leads to some,,, interesting conversations that piss cameron off

but as i said, you're this free spirit that makes everyone around you smile, even richard "stick up his ass" cameron ;)

[in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather]

Oh Silky,

You're wiser than me I know that to be true, and I don't see myself as someone who could advise you when it comes to writing. It's one of those things that just flows out of someone, a deeply personal process.

However, I think I should share sth I heard in the TikTok sphere that at least made what was happening across a lot of platforms make sense to me. The new saying goes: "Shein sells quicker than Chanel." (No disrespect to either brand consumers ofc)

I just find it as a nice way to understand why sometimes the good things in the world remain underappreciated (have less of an audience) while other mass produced digestible content thrive. It's as simple as that. One is inheritally meant for mass consumption and it's no surprise it does well it that area. And by no means can the success of the digestible content take away from the quality and the impact of another. (Quite the opposite actually.)

I understand how frustrating it could be to see sub-par work get recognition.

I was fuming when seeing the quality of a few Reylo fics that were in publication as I skimmed through them believe me , but it only made what you were doing more grand in my eyes.

If you ever wonder if someone is excited for a project you're working on, you can automatically know that I'm at the other end of this blog literally frothing at the mouth for it...sorry for the visual but it's true.

I really have love and awe for you in my heart and want you to be happy, so know that as long as you are happy to write, we are happy to read. I guarantee that.

We have spoken about how I feel about this God forsaken platform. It's an echo-chamber the size of a match box, so I beg you to never determine your worth based on the greatness of echos here.

I don't know if you will write your own novel or screenplay or anything else one day, but you're probably one of the few fic writers that have the ability to do that in them and I'll read that too happily.

I also want to mention that yes I'm guilty of reading undercooked plots and themes and nsfw alphabets and prompts from time and time too, but all of them go in from one ear and out from another. They don't stick like your stories do. They never make me wonder and question.

Don not feel like you're losing to them bc it's simply not even a competition between you.

I tired to keep this honest, away from the amount of praise I want to give, to make you know that I mean it entirely. I hope I have been successful.

Love,

Ariadne.

My beloved ❤️❤️

I have cherished your every word ever since you were kind enough to leave your thoughts on my dad!Sackler fic.

You are so thoughtful and insightful, it blew me away 💗 And since then, I've been so grateful to have found a kindred spirit who is so tender and honest, not to mention patient and supportive 💗

That's truly been one of the few bright spots of venturing into this space.

*

That's a very interesting point to consider and it would be wonderful to be able to discuss it further, but as we know, that's impossible here.

I do want to thank you for this sincere and deeply touching gesture - I am taking it into my heart 100% and I'm on the verge of sobbing, to be perfectly honest 💕💕

When I write and consider posting, it's because I hope there is someone like you out there who will dive into the story and let themselves feel something beautiful and that part makes me feel absolutely amazing 😍

Sending you every last bit of my love 🤗🤗