#wondering if maybe i should shout into the void more on tumblr
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Meet The Author - Neil Breault
Who am I? Author of 4 books (as of Sept '24) with another planned book published by the end of the year. There are plans, ideas, and designs for dozens more. I currently live in Texas, though would love to move away. Father of two children. They keep me on my toes and constantly amaze me, I just wish it were for more for wonderful things.
I have been an avid fantasy and sci-fi fan since I could form my own opinions. With many fond memories of getting new books from the library and even listening to books on tape while going on vacation. Yes, on cassette tape.
Sometime in second grade, I recall writing my first stories. In fact, I have the book I wrote them in thanks to my mother saving it. They were, of course, very bad. Thankfully, at the time I did not know this and was not discouraged. Since then, I have created many worlds and characters. I have notes spanning decades. Some are simple notes of things I want to include in a story, other notes are stories I felt I could not write at the time. First piece of advice for anyone, never trash a draft, notes, or ideas. They may not be useful now, but you never know what it could become in the future.
What do I write? I am primarily a fantasy author, but I have several sci-fi story ideas. I focus on epic fantasy, though all of the sub-genres can mix together so high fantasy, sword and sorcery, dark, grimdark, etc. As mentioned before I have published four books, but I have written seven (as of this post). They are all stand-alone books, no connected universe, as of right now. Though, I am currently outlining and about to start writing my first trilogy. It is the first of roughly six "named" trilogies planned. Again, nothing in the same universe.
Why not the same universe? Well, for one, I got tired of picking up a book and finding out there were a bunch more books to read afterward, and more being written. I wanted to pick up a book/story and read or devour it without having to wait for more or forget what I had read by the time the next book came out. This sentiment may also have come about because of reading Wheel of Time prior to Robert Jordan's death. Regardless of it being finished now, at the time, it left a mark on me. I decided I didn't want to start a series until it was done, or it was being written by a machine like Brandon Sanderson. Since I didn't feel like picking up unfinished stories, I felt I could not write one either. Plus, there are less stand-alone stories than series books and I felt I could add to this dearth of single books.
Where can you find my books? Currently my works are published with Amazon, either Kindle or paperback. Starting with Bullet for a King, all of my books will have a hardcover option as well. I am sure future posts will include links, but did not feel I should include them here.
What do I hope to accomplish with Tumblr? For someone to listen while I shout into the void of life. Or to sometimes express my thoughts and ideas and interact with people. Of course, upcoming information and/or sneak peeks at what I've got planned will happen to. Maybe some memes, we'll see.
This post will also act as a AMA if any one chooses to do so.
#fantasy#writing#novelist#fantasy author#author#epic fantasy#writers on tumblr#novel writing#indie writer#self publishing#high fantasy
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I like it here on tumblr, where I can just continue to shout to the void and ignore the fact I’m being perceived. I like the silence. I like the lack of response sometimes. Maybe I am a little overstimulated by social media. Just a little.
I set things down for a little today after having a rough day. It was nice. I wish I had the ability to do that more often. I am considering making this place my official ramble zone. Perhaps I could spout my head off about the things I don’t share on my louder more spotlit plaforms. It’s nice to take a breath from where you’re constantly viewed, you know? I think I’m tired.
I miss LMK. I feel like my active public expression of interest has been watering itself down because of how much I’ve been avoiding LMKtwt. I have fun in lmktwt sometimes, don’t get me wrong. But like I said, sometimes social media can be so overstimulating. Twt especially. It seems there’s a problem consistently in lmktwt these days, so I’ve been avoiding it a lot. I keep indulging in other interests to cope with hiatus as well. And while I know this doesn’t mean I love LMK any less, it does leave me sad at the thought and fear that what would happen if I fell out of love with this show I love so dearly just bc I’m overstimulated and tired by social media? I won’t think too hard about it. I’ll let things come as they do. I’m still very much in love with LMK. Perhaps I just need a bit of a break. But I love my community and the people I’ve brought together in this community.. sometimes, however, it’s hard not to worry that eventually I will wrap things up in this fandom and say goodbye to a chapter that I hold dear to me. I worry that my audience will not stick around. I wonder if it matters to me, if it should matter at all, if I’m wrong for caring? So I’m taking my time to remind myself to love my other interests, to find value in the cherished moments I’m experiencing now rather than worrying about situations that haven’t even happened yet and might very well not… I’m reminding myself that who cares!! Who cares if people don’t stick around after I eventually move onto the next fandom, people come and go all the time in life and it’s okay to find a new audience that will enjoy my stuff. I like the peace that stepping away gives me.
I feel refreshed. Thanks for listening, silly tumblr followers. If you see me a little inactive on Twt, assume I’m busy or simply just keeping distant from it for my own sake. I’m content with the current state of my rlshp w social media and my presence on it. That is not a common thing for me. So I’m just enjoying my time.
Love ya guys, remember to put your well-being first and foremost.
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hey!
i forgot to answer you yesterday but better late than never right?
my bookshelf is quite outdated style wise and honestly i think i’m going to change it soon. the top shelf is all the series in rainbow order. the bottom shelf has scrapbooks on the left, some nonfiction books next to that and a safe in the middle (which i can no longer open because i lost the key and took the batteries out, so the code doesn’t work). to the right of that are all my pretty books eg leather or clothbound.
i think one of the books that says a lot about me is the 600+ page collection of poetry in latin because a) i do not understand latin and b) i still try to read it anyway. i think it’s says a lot about my personality in ways that i don’t fully understand. i stole it from my school library and snuck it home and it has sat on the top of my bookcase ever since. but more seriously, i’d have to go with the flower fairy books by cicely mary barker that my godmother gave me as a child, especially the season ones, because they are so beautiful and i really love them with all my heart, even though they are children’s books. don’t know if that’s what you wanted but hey :)
todays question for you is: what is your relationship to loneliness? or alternatively if you are in a more lighthearted mood, how would you spend the perfect day?
to address your question from yesterday, i think i will stay anonymous for a while longer but i will eventually reveal my identity, i promise!
sending you lots of love, have an amazing day <33
as i alluded to before, i think what you’ve said about your bookshelf tells more about you than your tumblr url or your name ever could. not in a “i know who you are” type of way, but in an “i understand how you see the world” type of way. i think both of your answers to the book question - the latin collection & the children’s book - say a lot about you in very contrasting ways. not gonna psychoanalyze perfect strangers on main, but thank you for trusting me with that response! genuinely didn’t expect an answer on that haha.
i’d like very much to say that loneliness is something that doesn’t plague me, but i’ve been wondering lately if maybe loneliness is just something i’m going to live with for the rest of my life. it feels like a stranger to me, & the status quo, all at once. but i don’t know if loneliness is such a bad thing. i’ve come to despise contentment, because the idea of not needing to search for more is a suffocating one. is loneliness the solution to that? i feel it the most profoundly when i’m with other people, but my mind feels like it’s on a parallel & distinctly separate plane. i write a lot about that feeling, in songs & stories, but also apparently tumblr posts vaguely directed at strangers.
but yeah, as far as my relationship to loneliness goes, i would call it a companion but not a friend. i don’t know what void i’m shouting this into, but i hope it understands. good question!
i’ll end this on a lighter note, since that was… heavy, haha. i didn’t mean to bum anyone out, but oh well, it’s my blog i suppose. my friends know me well enough to expect that, & strangers should come to.
but yeah, how would i spend the perfect day? the perfect day has infinite forms, because it’s whatever day i’m living. in my head, the perfect day is a warm one in july, two years ago, spotting my best friend at the top of the hill. i think today i’m going to go to the coffee shop & get some writing done, & hopefully i’ll find a friend to hang out with & stave off some of that loneliness. i’m not sure. friends are weirdly hard to come by in the summer, which i feel like is its own version of being lonely. i want to experience life & sunshine with someone today.
i hope you’re having your own perfect day, whatever that means to you! thanks for the question kind stranger, wishing you all the best <3
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ohhhh the "what could have been" angle is really interesting...... im not personally a big fan of the "yearning to be normal" variety of angst that a lot of saiki fans write so i wouldnt gravitate toward that aspect of it, but like. they are certainly a far cry from normal siblings lmao - that just isnt really a tragedy to me since neither of them are even remotely normal people. they were never gonna have a normal sibling relationship, and thats what i like about it 😅
however, since kusuo does spend a lot of time wishing for his powers to go away, i wonder if he ever thought about how that would affect his relationship with kuusuke..... well. he probably assumed (correctly) that it would make kuusuke leave him alone. but think about how much lonelier kuusuke would be....... do you think it ever made kusuo hesitate. or maybe a vindictive part of him thought his brother would deserve to be alone for always thinking of himself as above humanity. but then what would that say about him.......
and kuusuke. we never really get a good look into his psyche but given how ecstatic he is that kusuo is stronger than him, i wonder if he ever wished to be normal...... in fact, that couldve been the reason he went to such a prestigious school - in the hopes of finding someone close to his level. but it didnt work...... and theres also the fact that he doesnt exactly have like. powers. maybe he never dared to hope for a world where he could be a normal person. yeah...... theres definitely potential there
and i really like compelling dynamics that are nonromantic too (which is why i originally made this post about the dynamic between two brothers lmao), plus i have kind of a weird relationship with romance and shipping in general (as someone who is polyamorous in an aromantic way). but i find that if you want to find people digging deep into the complexities of a fictional relationship, well. theyre gonna be the shippers. thats why i said "they would be a popular ship" and not "i would ship them" - it was meant to be more of a comment on how interesting they are as a duo, and how often people ship two characters who are as insane about each other as these two are, not to say that shipping them would be more compelling or that i necessarily think more people should ship them lol (although if it means i'll start seeing more alternatives to the typical interpretation of. entirely one-sided/borderline abusive relationship where kusuo genuinely hates kuusuke and wants nothing to do with him. then yk. i wouldnt complain)
and i think because these two aspects of shipping - the desire to analyze and elaborate on every aspect of a relationship, and the desire to see the characters kiss - arent properly delineated here on tumblr (especially since often times people are exploring the former via the latter), it can make people think these two things are inherently connected, and thus refuse to write or engage with deranged meta about sibling relationships because shipping them would be icky. i even had to actively scrub the shipping terminology from the original post because thats just how im used to writing about fictional duos, even though i have no real interest in seeing any of my faves kiss (and this pair is no different). unfortunately this isnt like ao3 where theres a separate tag for platonic relationships - you either tag it with the ship and hope people see your vision, or shout into the void and hope for the best
whew, kinda went on a tangent there - that wasnt directed at you or even specifically this fandom btw im just musing about a general trend ive noticed. something something amatonormativity. fandom placing romance above all other types of relationship etc etc. and obviously my throwaway remark about how i think they would be a popular ship did not communicate this idea in the slightest (i hadnt even really articulated my thoughts on it at all until now) so no need to apologize lmao your response was certainly reasonable enough
anyway thanks for talking about this with me ^_^ i enjoyed hearing an alternate perspective on them! its way more fun to sort out my thoughts when i have something to work comparatively to...... and i especially want to thank you because i have not been subtle with the saikicest apologism, which is obviously a highly controversial topic. so im glad you were willing to hear me out on this even if its not your cup of tea <3
been thinking about the saiki siblings a lot lately....... their dynamic of "guy who experiments on you to feel something" & "guy who lets you experiment on him to feel something" is soooo compelling to me......
what if you were a genius scientist and there was only one person in the world who could compare to your talents, but he was better than you in every way and testing the limits of his superiority was the only thing that even remotely interested you. what if you were so powerful as to be considered inhuman and there was only one person in the world who understood that well enough to legitimately challenge you, and even though you know he'll never be able to beat you, maybe knowing you well enough to test your limits and take advantage of your weaknesses is close enough.
what if you were both so hyperaware of your own isolation from not only the rest of humanity but also each other that you couldnt ever leave each other alone. you reach for the person who comes closest to understanding you, and your inability to relate to each other is a constant reminder that neither of you can ever be normal. its the fucked up symbiotic relationship between a horrible monster that doesnt belong anywhere except in a lab, and the researcher who has been obsessively gathering data on it for his entire life. life was boring without you so i built a time machine and plunged the world into darkness. im sorry that being a normal person means i wont get to play with you anymore.
they can understand each other without speaking. the only time kusuo ever bleeds is at the hands of kuusuke. they have nothing in common except a shared complex about not being understood by normal people. and they hate each other. insane. im insane
#sometimes you have to bury your well articulated analysis about shipping culture 3 reblogs deep in a post about incest shipping#you know how it is#saiki k#biggie tumbles
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#wondering if maybe i should shout into the void more on tumblr#i feel like og textposts are easier to bury on tumblr than on twitter so like ig i feel less shy screaming here#also by virtue of the fact that talking in the tags feels less loud than composing a whole ass tweet#hmmmmm i think i keep clowning myself bc i say that my character development is that i no longer hate myself but then i keep entering rando#'haha Jokes i guess'#AHHHHHH theres something deeply satisfying in a masochistic way in following ur spiral of thoughts and pushing deeper into the things that#like scratching an itch but its twisting a knife instead#i feel Self Loathing in this chilli's tonight#LOL i just remembered that i have irls following me on here#maybe this is less void shouting#oh well i will just bury this with reblobs of Silly Memes and pretend i am the dandiest person on earth#i feel Awful#for no reason#jk i know the reason or at least i know what it was that set me off but its always stupid and insignificant so i feel embarrassed voicing w#no thoughts head empty#im tired of being perceived i just want to exist in a vacuum#actually no i dont bc getting lost in my own head is scary sometimes#i just wished i didnt have to think about the fact that I Exist to other people and they probably have thoughts about me#awful#fucking awful#personal#tumblr is cutting off some of my tags this is bullshit#oh well im Literally Too Fucking Lazy to fix it
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sympathy for the devil
i DO NOT consent to my works being reposted, translated, or published on any third party site or app. if you see my work posted on any platform that is not my tumblr, my wattpad (starryevermore), or my ao3 (illiterate), it has been stolen and reposted without my permission.
reblogs and feedback encouraged.
my blog is strictly 18+. by clicking on the links or read more, you are agreeing that you are an adult. any minors found interacting with my blog will be blocked.
Since the beginning of time, religion has been an integral part of our society. And because of that, prayers has always been prevalent. Whether it be to the God-with-a-big-G, or to one of the other gods-with-a-little-g, or just a shout into the void because you didn’t know what you really believed in, you have probably prayed at some point in your existence. People have prayed for themselves, for their best friends and family members thrice removed, even praying for people they didn’t even know. Yet, in the thousands or millions of years that we have existed (depending on what belief you put your stock into), has anyone ever prayed for the one man everyone blames everything on? Has anyone ever prayed for the biggest sinner in existence? Has anyone ever prayed for Satan himself?
When I ask this to anyone, they give blank stares, citing off why God, and by extension, Satan, doesn’t exist. Or they spout off reasons why you shouldn’t pray for Satan. Or they reply with a dull “well, I don’t know”. And so, I have come up with the only explanation: No.
No one has ever prayed for Satan. And no one probably will. And I don’t know why.
Why has no one ever had the humanity to pray for someone who seemingly can do nothing right? Why has no one ever sympathized with the Devil, wonder why he defied a supposed almighty God-with-a-big-G and was banished from the world’s only Paradise? Why did he trick Adam and Eve, thus ruining our chances of peace and harmony? Why did the world hate him so much that we as a species could never think to forgive him? After all, we have the ability to. We have sympathized with murderers and drug dealers and kidnappers. So, why can’t we sympathized with the world’s biggest sinner?
I have an idea as to why. If we did forgive the devil, who could we pin the blame on? Who would become the ultimate scapegoat? Had we not condemned him for so much, could we have forgiven him by now? And that made me wonder, did he actually do wrong? Had he been the scapegoat up in Heaven? Had he been sick and tired of being treated like shit, and just left without telling anyone? And because of that, a lie soon spread that he had defied God-with-a-big-G and went down to Earth to fuck shit up with humans. Maybe he wasn’t the world’s biggest sinner. Maybe he was a guy who messed up a few times, and was sentenced to a life of Hell. Maybe we should all pray for Satan, and ask for the supposed forgiving God-with-a-big-G to let bygones be bygones.
But that could never be. We were forged in the likeness of God-with-a-big-G. And I think that goes far beyond physical appearance. He has the same tendencies that we do. He has a harsh temper, and probably isn’t as forgiving as we like to think. Just as we could never forgive Satan, God-with-a-big-G never could either.
And that’s how the world ended.
Well, it actually ended because of corrupt governments and biased peoples and never ending wars. But if you put your stock in religion, you would probably agree with my previous statement and say that the world was destroyed because forgiving someone isn’t as easy as we would like to think. Everything we built crashed and burned because burying the hatchet is a lot more difficult than burying ourselves in trillions of dollars of debt. And the worst part of all? It only ended in a metaphorical sense. I would much rather had it all been destroyed in a wave of meteors or by a hydrogen bomb or, Heaven forbid, by a fucking zombie apocalypse. No, everything still stands, everyone still exists in an unethical, fraudulent, pervert world that no one could possibly fix.
But I wanted to fix it. I wanted everything to become better so badly that I could taste it. I dreamed of a tomorrow in which you needn’t worry about politics and the possibility of another World War because you had your family and your friends and you forgave the Devil because he didn’t do anything wrong. God-with-a-big-G didn’t hate his wayward son and everything was right in the world.
But that day could never come because we were forged in the likeness of God-with-a-big-G, and if he could have allowed for terror to rain down upon us, how could we ever have the power to stop it?
And so the world burned.
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A Helping Hand
Amy has a hard time being taken seriously after Chaos destroyed Station Square. So when she has a vision of a boy stuck in a capsule who may be the key to Eggman's next big scheme, no one is willing to listen or help her. Determined to help save the day this time, Amy strikes out on her own to save the mysterious black hedgehog from her dreams
Chapter 1- Next Chapter
I saw this concept while browsing tumblr. Special thanks to mewmewhakusho and another-sonic-blog for letting me play around with this idea. I've been a Shad/Amy shipper for YEARS and I've never seen this idea play out before. Here's my take.
Extra special thanks to Nothin' Fancy for beta reading for me once again!
Visions of Grandeur
A delicate white-gloved hand hovered over a deck of cards spread in an arc on a table covered in red lace. The cards were shiny and looked almost brand new. Amy knew better- they were a family heirloom passed down from generation to generation for hundreds of years. If her mother was to be believed, they were almost as old as the chaos emeralds! The candle sat to the right of the cards- its flickering light dancing against the shadows, causing the patterns on the cards to sway with them.
A young pink hedgehog stared with green eyes bright from excitement, and glowed in contrast to the dark, ominous mist which surrounded her. The mist was thick with sinister whispers, yet the girl hardly heard or cared to listen. Her anticipation at what was in store trumped any caution she may have had.
She greedily took three cards from the deck and laid them hastily but neatly in front of her. One straight horizontal line that would reveal her destiny. Her hands gently laid them perfectly straight, over the first to the left that represented the past that she needed to know. She continued over the present that the unknown past had affected. Finally she caressed the final one on the right- the future! She twirled in place, her joy was just too much! Sure the last one tended to be fuzzy, but she could usually guess based on the first two, so it was mostly just to complete the rule of three.
Amy Rose was no stranger to tarot readings, in fact she had even used them to find out how to be with her hero, Sonic! They'd shown her Little Planet, where Sonic had bravely saved her life. They'd shown her future- a life of adventure, thrill, new friends and becoming a hero alongside her Sonic in their fight against the old, and nasty, Dr. Eggman.
A gleeful smile took over as she imagined what the cards would show her now! Their first date? Kiss? Wedding day? THEIR CHILDREN? She giggled in sheer delight at the prospects of her happy future. But even as her heart pounded, demanding she quickly reveal her fate, she took a shaky breath to calm her nerves. She wanted to retain some adult-like dignity- this was her future after all! Amy steadied her hand, and flipped over the first card on the left.
The shadowy mist that surrounded her table converged on her and turned to an unforgiving steel color. Her smile faded and her happiness ebbed away- the past was almost never this cryptic. Not unless something horrible had happened. She searched through the fog but only found a large window with thick glass and a foggy reflection. Immediately her heart began to thump painfully, and so quickly, she felt it could give Sonic a run for his money. She pressed her hand to the cold glass and listened to the horrors going on behind her. She heard screaming, gun-shots, and shouted orders over stomping boots. When she inhaled, her nose was assaulted with an unfamiliar scent, it was a sharp coppery smell, with a dark, burnt undertone to it. Her whole body hummed with fear and hopelessness, a heavy weight of despair pressed down on her from all sides.
Amy tried to breathe, and her throat seized, so desperate to help, but with no way to know what was wrong, she floundered. Even in a lucid dream, it was so hard to make out the view behind the glass. It was blurred at first, but as she strained her eyes, she started to make out small white dots within a deep velvety black. The sounds behind her muted slightly as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. And then she realized, she was staring out into the void of space. She looked down, and to her despair, she saw her beautiful home planet of Mobius being drenched in blood that was flowing from the window.
She stared on in horror- she had no way to fix this. Worse still, she hadn't seen Sonic, or really anyone who could help her. She turned back into the fog, trying to see something, anything that the fog could show her how to stop the blood. She searched but still saw nothing and only heard the same conniving whispers under the sounds of the invaders. She growled in frustration and just jumped into the fog. She cried out, "Where are you!? Please, I can-"
She heard a gunshot, one that was louder than the rest, almost as though it was by her head. That wasn't what stopped her in her tracks. No- it was a scream that was so broken and filled with such heartbreak that she'd never heard in her life. The voice was young, maybe only a few years older than her, and it was deep and gravely with fear. Tears burst from her eyes as her heart broke from the anguish in his scream.
"MARIA!"
Amy could feel herself being pulled back out of the dream but she fought it, bringing herself back to the table and looking at the face of the card. She rolled her eyes, she should have known- Eggman's emblem was plastered over the dark background of space- it's eyes bleeding down to the earth below.
"The Death Egg," she decided, shaking her head, "Like that's a big surprise."
Still, her whole body shook. She knew the terrors Eggman had brought onto the world- the Great War between mobians and humans had been unkind to both sides. Eggman, specifically, had chosen himself over either side. It was only recently that Princess Sally and King Nigel had reached out and cultivated a more friendly relationship with them. But the history between the two people was still painful. Even with Eggman as a common enemy...
"I wonder if the United Federation will be involved," she murmured cryptically.
She glared skeptically at the second card, her excitement from earlier had been murdered and thrown out into a ditch. Now she was hesitant to see what else these cards had in store for her. Her frown deepened and she squared her shoulders- she knew how her tarot worked. It would not show her the past unless it was going to have a huge impact on the unseen present.
Amy flipped the card.
This time the mist retreated entirely and she found herself deep in the heart of a jungle. Lush greenery surrounded her, and the warm, tropical wind rushed around her, making the leaves rustle in a soothing lullaby. Her head bent backwards and she saw small twinkles of the afternoon sky between the gaps in the thick canopy above. Her eyes closed for a moment, as she felt peace enter her troubled heart and chase away the horror from the previous vision. She took a deep breath, allowing the damp, warm air to embrace her. She felt light, joyful, and her feet started to move in rhythm with her happiness. As she twirled, her eyes caught the glimmer of gun-metal that froze her heart.
She fell before she could get a better look at it.
A gasp ripped out of her throat as she fell into darkness, but then there was a glow of harsh chalk on a concrete background, 'Was that red chalk?'.
Her fall slowed to a stop before she hit the ground and the writing on the wall was gone. Before her was what looked like some medical, mechanical monstrosity. She looked around to try and get a grip on where she was, but found only more rusted metal, abused cables, and neglected machinery around her. She looked up and saw the ceiling so far ahead, she wondered if she wouldn't die from the fall, normally. The walls were an uninteresting metal grey, and Amy decided to move her attention back to the console in the middle of the room.
As she got closer, she found the thing was so old and covered with dust, she couldn't quite see into the capsule. But she could see the outline of someone inside. She rubbed at the glass desperately, calling out to them. She let out a frustrated huff when she couldn't get them to respond. Instead she made her way to the console attached to it. She ran her hands over the dusty console and saw four buttons specifically that glowed through the dust on them.
"A... R...I...M..." Amy read out loud, "Arim?"
The scream from earlier ripped into the forefront of her mind and she realized the 'A' key had been pressed twice. She looked on in the capsule in sadness, "Are you Maria?"
The capsule pulsed, not in assent, but in Anger. Red mist seeped from the cracks in the capsule and the walls echoed a scream that was much older than the one she'd heard before. This was the roar of an older man- not a child like before. But before she found herself back in the room with the red table, she felt the room ring with a terrible, evil laugh- very much like the one she'd heard come out of Eggman before.
When she was back in the red room, she looked down at the card. It showed multiple strings of chains, some an old, but strong metal and others almost see-through. They were wrapped around a black arm that clung to them so tightly they practically bit into the skin. Over all of the chains was stamped what she recognized as Eggman's insignia. She scoffed in annoyance and confusion, "What the heck is Eggman up to this time?"
A small, scared part of her wondered if it would be worse than what had happened with Chaos and Station Square. Using a literal god of destruction hadn't been enough to take Sonic down. What else was that crazy old doctor willing to do in order to win against the Hero of Mobius?
Her jaw set as she looked at the final card on the table. She knew she wasn't going to get too many answers from it- the future was never truly set in stone after all. This time the main character of the cards was not Sonic or her, but Eggman. She was worried about what the future may hold, but she shook her head. Amy still had no idea what Eggman was up to and she knew she couldn't leave here without at least a tiny clue about what he was up to.
She flipped the card.
Now she was in a new, dark room. The walls were scrawled with the same crazed red chalk she'd seen earlier that seemed to pulsate with malicious intent. In the center of the room sat a lone black hedgehog, curled into a ball with his hands over his ears.
"Hey!" she called out as she ran to his side, "Are you okay?"
The ball unfurled and was on its feet so quickly Amy gasped in surprise. The hedgehog twisted around to face her and Amy was struck by what she saw.
There were dark red streaks in his fur that matched the writing on the wall and his wide eyes. A snarl twitched on his lips as his white gloved fists clenched at his sides, ready for a fight. The white puff over his heart heaved with his labored breathing. To anyone else, this creature would be terrifying. Who on earth had naturally red eyes that seemed to permanently glare into your soul? However, Amy's heart broke for him- the hedgehog was barely out of boyhood, almost Sonic's age, chained to the floor of the room by his wrists and ankles.
"Here," she reached out gently, "Let me help you."
The hedgehog's eyes widened in surprise and he seemed to lean forward for a brief moment. But the next second his sneer deepened and he swung his arms out, "Don't touch me. This is where I belong!"
Amy looked around incredulously before shooting him her own shocked look, "You... don't look happy being here."
"Tch," he scoffed as he folded his arms, "It's not about happiness. It's about what they deserve. What I deserve."
Now the walls seeped with a red mist that the boy was starting to choke on and walls rumbled ominously. Still she stared on at the shadowed hedgehog in front of her and all she could think about was how to get them out of there. She reached into her pockets and was amazed and elated to feel her fingers brush against the cold, metal shape of a key. Amy smiled- she knew this was the key to the hedgehog's chains.
"Nobody belongs in a place like this," she called out in spite of the poison surrounding them, "Come on! Just give me your hand and we can get out of here."
The boy growled and lashed out with the chains, "I said NO!"
Amy dodged the chains and now she was angry, "Stop being silly! This place is going to kill you!"
"You're too weak to stop it!" he growled out, his sneer turning into a soft but cruel smile, "You're pathetic!"
Now Amy's cheeks puffed out in rage. She clenched the key in her hands and she lunged for the hedgehog, "I'LL SHOW YOU WEAK!"
She was pinned to the ground before she'd reached him. As the hedgehog stood over her, holding her down by her throat and his other arm pressing down on her chest, the room began to collapse around them. The mist surrounded them and was only pierced by the glow of seven bright lights that circled around them ominously. The boy's red markings faded into a shadowy mist and his whole body blurred into a vague black monster that held her down and kept her from breathing. As the world faded around her, Amy saw the final card float in front of her- the earth and moon shattered against the backdrop of space.
She heard a sad sigh reverberate in her mind...
Amy found herself on her back, in her bed, with the shadow creature still trying to choke her.
She groaned lowly in frustration. This creature was not the same boy she was trying to save in her vision but some vague dark monster that would try to "choke" her while she woke from her lucid dreams.
"Ugh," she thought as she began to hold her breath, "Sleep paralysis. My favorite."
Amy held her breath for what felt like forever- even as her body shook with desperation and fear of the monster in front of her, she knew there was only one way to escape the beast. She waited as her body slowly woke from the hell, first with tingling sensations in her toes. It was not a pleasant feeling, it felt like tiny, heated needles poking into the pores of her skin. It slowly gravitated up her legs and when she attempted to move her feet to quicken the process, she found she couldn't move them.
Maybe twenty seconds later she finally felt herself wake up and she shot up from her bed with a gasp. After several harrowing seconds of catching her breath she searched the room for the shadow demon from earlier. Only when she found no signs of it did she rest her head in her hands with a groan. Normally she loved being able to consult her tarot cards, even if it always ended in her being caught in sleep paralysis. They tended to show her premonitions of hope, happiness and adventure!
Tonight though...
Amy shook her head, she knew she wouldn't get another wink of sleep tonight. She turned to the window and saw the soft light of the night just before dawn. Amy heaved a large yawn and got up anyway. She dressed in her signature red dress in the dark of her small windowed tent, bemoaning the loss of her apartment six months earlier. As she picked up a bucket from the corner of her room she dreamed about the running water she used to enjoy. She walked out into the pre-dawn landscape, swinging her bucket despite her conflicted mind and got ready for the day.
She walked out into the cleared ruins of the outskirts of Station Square. As desolate as the area was, she couldn't help but give a small smile. The tents each represented at least one person from Knothole Village who chose to help in rebuilding Station Square. At a glance, Amy counted well over three dozen tents- almost a third of the population of Knothole. Amy scanned the horizon- the work on the city was slow going but it was coming along. The water had been completely drained since about a month after the god, Chaos, had wreaked havoc to the city and the buildings were now mostly safely demolished. Despite the devastation, the Mobians were determined to help rebuild what the human's had lost to be better and stronger than before.
"Not to mention learning more about human building techniques," Amy thought with an eye roll. She'd overheard Sally bring that up at the beginning of the rebuilding project. She couldn't argue with how smart it was, and it had gotten so many more volunteers out. Amy couldn't help but feel a bit leery at the phrasing, however, "It's like people can't just help because they can."
Speaking of helping, as Amy filled her bucket from the well- a mechanical marvel very unlike the traditional wells they'd had to use in the past- she couldn't help but think back to the poor boy she'd tried to save in her dream.
"I wonder what Eggman wants with him," she murmured under her breath, "And why he's okay with it...
"If he was okay with it," she corrected herself, a sad weight clutching her heart, "What was that writing on the wall, anyway. Part of the curse...?"
"Hun?"
"I wonder if those lights were the chaos emeralds," she continued to mutter under breath with a shrug, "Wouldn't surprise me if they were involved, somehow."
"Rosie!"
"There's always got to be some sort of magic when it comes to Eggman," she sighed as she stretched her neck mindlessly, "For a mechanical genius, he sure relies on the supernatural a LOT."
"Amy!"
Amy was pulled out of her reverie and shrieked when she saw her bucket was overflowing and she was wasting so much water. She scrambled to shut the water off and turned apologetically towards the person behind her.
Bunnie Rabbot looked on at Amy with a concerned raised brow over sharp green eyes, one mechanical hand resting on her hip and the other holding her bucket. One mechanical foot tapped methodically against the silence before she pointed to Amy with her good arm. But before she could say anything, Amy gave a little chuckle,
"Hey... Bunnie!" Amy smiled sheepishly, "Sorry, I got a bit distracted."
"Y'all right, there Rosie Cheeks? It's awful early in the morning for you to be up. You sleep alright?"
Amy stood aside to let Bunnie get her water before shaking her hand in a 'so-so' motion, "Could have been better. I... I drew my cards today"
Again, Bunnie raised her brow, "Drew your cards? That a Station Square sayin'?"
Amy shot her a deadpan look, "My tarot cards? The ones I used to find Sonic? The ones that told me to move to Station Square?"
"Right, right. Sorry Rosie-Cheeks, I forgot," Bunnie shut off the water and gave her own sheepish look, "My stahs, I've been runnin' mahself ragged out here. 'Tween helping Sugah 'Twan with the soup kitchen and the main construction site I've been getting pulled in all sorts a ways..."
She giggled but then blanched at her joke, "Don't read too far into that, I shouldn'ta said that..."
Amy rolled her eyes- at twelve years old, she was way too used to hearing the older crowd telling her what she should or shouldn't hear, "Sure... anyway... have you heard anything about where Sonic is? I need to talk to him about what I saw."
Bunnie winced with a small sympathetic hiss, "Ah'm sorry, hun, but Sugah Hog left to go chase a rumor about Doctor Eggman. He left a while ago for Oil Ocean Zone just a few minutes ago..."
Amy's cheeks puffed out and her hands found her hips, "UGH, SERIOUSLY!? He didn't even say goodbye?!"
Bunnie sighed, "Ah'm sure if you called him he'd answer. Or you could talk to Sally..."
Amy's arms crossed and she scoffed, "Please, he never answers his calls. And Sally's been too busy rubbing elbows with the President. Rotor and NICOLE don't believe in my 'mumbo jumbo' and Tails has been loosing it over his stupid project..."
"Now, Amy," Bunnie chided while picking up her bucket and pointing at Amy in a scolding manner, "He helped save the city from Doctor Eggman, too, you know. He deserves a rest..."
"He isn't resting though!" Amy cried, "And I helped save the city too!"
"Of course you did, Rosie-Cheeks. Takin' down that Zero fella really took a lot outta you... but, we're all doing our part," Bunnie chided dismissively, "Look... I get that you had a bad dream..."
"Vision."
"Yea... that," Bunnie took a deep breath, "If it's that important to you I can listen for a bit. I don't need to check into the kitchens for a while..."
Amy stared her down in frustration before she sighed, "Yea... okay... So you know how Tarot readings usually include a past, present, and future card?"
"Can't say I do, but I believe you!"
"Okay... Anyway, the past card had me in space and... I think it was another Death Egg."
Bunnie gasped, "You don't say..."
Amy nodded, "So at first I thought Eggman was hiding in space, but that's in the past. So the present one had me in a jungle and I dropped into a cave with really creepy red writing on the walls and I thought maybe that's where Eggman is hiding."
"Right, okay..."
"But the last card, the future card, didn't have anything to do with Eggman at all!" Amy ranted, "It was a black hedgehog... I think Eggman's going to use him for something really bad..."
"Oh, really? Who was the hedgehog?"
Amy shrugged, "I don't know. I've never seen a hedgehog with red tiger stripes in their quills like that, and the way his quills bent is like I've never seen before... and his eyes... he looked so angry and sad..."
Now Bunnie gave a knowing smile, "Well I'll be, I never thought it'd happen!"
Amy shot her a confused look, "What?"
"I didn't think you'd get over Sonic so quickly, Rosie-Cheeks!"
Amy's eyes widened, "Weren't you listening? This isn't about him!"
Bunnie rolled her eyes, "Sure it isn't. Look, hun, I don't think it's about Eggman. AH think, yer getting a lil crush on someone else and you're feel'n guilty 'bout leaving Sonic behind..."
"But I'm not..."
"And y'all shouldn't!" Bunnie put her bucket down and grabbed Amy by the shoulders gently, "Yer growing up now and that comes with a lot-ah complicated feelings. It's okay ta look a lil closer and see what happens! Don't ya feel bad about chasin' yer happiness Rosie-Cheeks! Yer still so young. Don' be afraid ta go chat up your lil friend when you see him 'round the camp again. I'm sure he'd really like a nice chat with a cute lil lady such as yerself!"
"But I haven't even... I don't have any..." Amy, enraged, stumbled over her words, "You're not even listening to me!"
"Aw, Ah'm sorry I couldn't help you more sweetheart," Bunnie said glumly before gasping, "Oh, I gotta go! Sugah 'Twan's waitin' on me and I still haven't gotten myself presentable yet!"
Amy huffed and sputtered as Bunnie waved goodbye and called out, "Go talk to Sally-girl if you need more help! She'll help y'all with your new boyfriend!."
Amy shook with frustration and her cheeks burned red-hot. She gave a growling shriek and kicked her bucket of water over. Too late, she realized she would have to wait in a now much longer line for water to brush her teeth and wash her hands. As she grumbled under her breath over not being taken seriously, again, she resigned herself to a long drive to Central City and a meeting with one Princess Sally Acorn.
White House-Central City, United Federation
10:16
Amy's mood had not gotten any better after her journey to Central City. Not that she was surprised, she'd had to walk the entire way to the other city because the buses to the other cities wouldn't let her on without permission from her mommy.
Amy growled in her seat in the waiting room of the White House, practically grinding her teeth down to the root. While she'd only been there a grand total of ten minutes, each moment seemed to tick by at a snail's pace and she was left consumed in such an angry aura that no one wanted to be anywhere near her.
"I swear, if Sally keeps me waiting just one second more, this whole house is going to be nothing but rubble when I'm done with it!"
"Miss?"
Amy's eyes shot the older human man, who dared to interrupt her incensed thoughts, with such a withering look she made the rest of his group flinch in fear. She was both angered and relieved to see the older gentleman was entirely unphased by this and even seemed mildly amused by her pouting.
Amy took a deep breath to reign in her temper, but her voice still came out curtly, "Yea, what do you want?"
The man raised one brow and replied, "I was hoping to ask you the same question. Are you lost?"
Amy's pout deepened but rather than give into her rising rage, she smoothed out her dress and held her nose up at him with an air of importance, "I'm waiting to see Princess Sally Acorn. I have important information about Dr. Eggman's whereabouts that I need to share with her."
Amy raised her eyes smugly to him, only to see that man's eyes widen only ever so slightly. She was even more infuriated when he folded his hands behind his back and leveled her with a condescending look, "Oh? That's odd. We've just gotten very reliable intel on his location. I imagine you've done your own well-founded research to come to your conclusions?"
Amy's cheeks puffed out. To be honest, she didn't have a reliable source and all she really had to go on was a jungle...
But her heart never steered her wrong- she knew she had to talk to Sally as soon as she could, "Call it a woman's intuition. I need to talk to her. Tell her it's Amy Rose."
His brows crinkled slightly and Amy was struck by the man's eyes. She'd never seen eyes that were different colors- one green, one brown. Something stirred in her heart and told her to be kinder to him. She took in his clothes- a deep green, almost black military jacket with matching slacks and the shiniest black shoes Amy had ever seen. Two stripes over his left breast pocket and the numerous medals put him high in the chain of command, although Amy had no clue where exactly. He was conspicuously missing a name tag on his uniform- a bit annoying but then she could always ask.
Finally the man offered a kind smile, "I recognize you now- you were with the princess upon her arrival a few months ago. I'm on my way to a meeting with her and the President. I'm sure we can spare a few moments for you two to... have a little chat before our meeting..."
If looks could kill, the old man would have keeled over from the terrifying glare she shot his way. He had turned and began to walk away by the time she took a few deep breaths and began to follow him. Slowly but surely, she soothed her irritation as they briskly strolled through the winding corridors of the mansion. Through it all, a persistent feeling thumped in her chest- a sort of deja vu that refused to let her go. Finally she turned to the old man, "I'm... sorry, I never got your name."
"Lieutenant Commander Towers," The man said with a restrained smile, "I'm with the G.U.N."
"...The...?"
"The Guardian Unit of Nations," he answered, "We oversee the defense of the United Federation against her enemies."
Amy frowned in confusion- the feeling of deja vu was just getting stronger, "...Did you... fight in the Great War at all? I feel like I know you from somewhere..."
The man stopped in his tracks and eyed her with concern, "Did you?"
Amy shook her head, "I was only three when Eggman took over. My parents did. Sorry, I thought I'd maybe seen you or your name in one of the old history books. It's starting to bug me, actually."
The man sized her up and Amy couldn't help but straighten her back and face him head on. For all that he'd made a poor impression, Amy still wanted to measure up. Finally, he offered a sad smile and a nod, "We're almost there, right this way."
He moved, and Amy was immediately gripped by tunnel vision. Her eyes honed in on a map of what she presumed to be the entirety of the United Federation from the Western shores of Soleanna to the Eastern most tip of Chun-An up to Holoska and down all the way to the most Southern edge of Mazuri. Amy scrambled to get a closer look at the map and zone in immediately on a tiny spot of an island almost 100 miles off the coast of the Mystic Ruins. Amy was just taking in the latitude and longitude of the island when the man came up ever so silently behind her, "Ms. Rose? Something the matter?"
Amy pointed to the island immediately, "Does this island have a jungle on it?"
The man frowned in confusion before deciding to humor her. His face quickly hardened then smoothed over when he had a moment to realize what island she was talking about. Despite his brief unrest, his voice was smooth and seemingly unconcerned, "I couldn't say- I've never been."
Amy huffed then gave a small determined grin, "It's off the coast of the Mystic Ruins... it has to."
The man shrugged, "I believe you. Now, if you'll follow me, I believe you have important information to share?"
Amy pouted and folded her arms over her chest, "Yea, yea, I'm coming, Abe..."
Now the man froze completely and halted Amy with a look that was both highly suspicious and entirely ill at ease, "What did you just call me?"
Before Amy could answer, someone called from around the corner, "Lieutenant Commander! There you are!"
They both turned to see a broad, stout man with an impressive beard in a similar military outfit to Towers. He clapped the tall, lanky Towers on the back and started to guide him away, "Abraham, you won't believe the progress the young princess has made in her little country, and so close to enemy lines! My dear, Knothole village has been in very impressive hands!"
"Thank you, Commander Thunderstrike," Amy heard the smooth, but very tired tones of Sally's voice and her heart lifted in relief, "That is very high praise coming from..."
She turned the corner and her eyes widened in surprise, "Amy! What are you doing here?"
If Amy had been the type to look before she leapt, she would have seen Sally was in no position to entertain any surprises. The princess looked tired, her hair, while not technically out of place, was drooping. It was clear to almost everyone that Sally had been in the middle of meetings with barely a chance to change clothes before the next stage of plans. All for the sake of having a mutually beneficial relationship with the humans that the mobians hadn't seen in literal centuries. It was clear that such lofty goals bore a heavy price. As determined as Princess Sally was, she was at the edge of her good graces.
It was a shame Amy caught none of this. She pointed immediately to the map, "I know where Eggman's hiding!"
Sally frowned in confusion while Amy lunged towards her and grabbed Sally's hand. The Commander and Towers looked on as Amy dragged Sally to the map.
"Oh? Do you, young lady?" Now the Commander turned his amused gaze to Sally, "Another savant in your entourage? Wonders never cease with you young critters, isn't that right Towers?"
Towers only gave an uneasy nod as Amy pointed to the island she'd been so fixated on moments before.
"There! Right there! He's on that island!"
There was a pause just before Sally gently massaged her temples and the Commander began to roar with laughter, "Oh, there's a good one. Trust me, my dear, no one is on that island."
"I know Eggman is!" Amy retorted, "Or at the very least he plans on being there soon!"
Towers' frowned down his nose at her, "And your sources?"
"None," Sally groaned, "Amy, please. We don't have time for this. We're in the middle of planning something. Go back to Station Square. We have everything under control here."
"Sally, please, you have to believe me! Something is going on on that island and we have to send Sonic there to check it out!"
"No, we don't," Sally countered, "We know where Eggman is and he's not on some desert island-"
"Jungle island."
"-WHATEVER island in the middle of nowhere!"
"Then let me go and check it out!" Amy begged, "Please, I know I can handle it, and I can at least see what's going on!"
"Absolutely not!" The Commander thundered, "Your Highness, I can allow some modicum of freedom within the country but..."
The Commander began to stumble over his words as he realized he couldn't very well explain how he knew Eggman wasn't there in the first place. In answer to his prayers, Towers took a step forward and offered, "This is within our sphere of influence and if Ms. Rose's information is even remotely legitimate, it's worth at least a cursory investigation. Allow us to look into this on our own while we work together on our separate venture to bring Dr. Eggman to justice."
Sally sighed, "Thank you, Lieutenant Commander. I appreciate your diligence and kindness in this matter. I suggest we consider this settled."
She shot Amy a look that made the pink hedgehog's blood run hot with embarrassment, "You don't believe me, do you?"
Now Sally's eyes flashed with anger and she grabbed Amy's arm roughly in turn.
"Excuse us for a moment gentleman, I'll return for the second meeting shortly," the princess said hurriedly as she dragged Amy around the corner into a room.
The room was filled with a series of maps and blueprints on it. The room had only two others in it, another tall man that Amy recognized as the President of the United Federation, and a white bat, with bright teal eyes that looked on in the barest hint of interest. Sally let go of Amy just long enough to grab a small pile of papers and slam them in front of her. Amy looked down, her heart frozen in shock as Sally revealed the pictures of a clearly reactivated Eggman base in the middle of Oil Ocean zone near Shamar. As Amy's hands gently hovered over the pictures, at one point even hovering over one of Eggman himself, Sally spoke to her in low but harsh tones.
"I understand that you want to be a Freedom Fighter. I admit we've given Tails a lot more leniency and responsibility that we've given you. And I promise once this is over we will be taking your training much more seriously than we have in the past-"
"I don't need training, I need you to listen to me!" Amy growled, "There's a boy who needs our help! A black hedgehog with red eyes!"
Sally continued unimpeded, "You're being incredibly childish and nearsighted if you really think you're the only one doing anything about all of this."
"Eggman has to be tricking you! Just let me go with them to the island and I can..."
Sally's fist clenched and she barely stopped herself from slamming it on the table. She took several deep breaths behind clasped hands before she tried again, "I believe you have visions. I believe you have insight into things that we don't. But this is hard evidence that anyone can see while yours are just vague apparitions that we can't analyze the way we can with these. There are only so many resources we can spare and frankly- I can't focus on some unknown black hedgehog, and Eggman, and rebuilding at the same time. So please… just..."
Now Sally drew close and her voice was now a harsh whisper, "Go back to Station Square. Stop throwing a tantrum and help where you're needed."
Amy stared into the cold, hard blue eyes of the princess, and she felt tears begin to burn at the corners of her eyes as she realized that once again Sally insisted on treating her like a small child. Sally put her hand on Amy's back and opened the door to the room, and with a gentle push, ushered the young girl from the room. Mortified, she saw the commanders had been right behind them, faces pale but unmoving. Amy only started down the hall when the door was closed softly behind her and she was left alone and with a pounding sense of anger and determination.
Back inside the room, Sally took several more deep breaths before she addressed the President directly, "Forgive me, sir. That was one of our trainees. She's... very excited to officially join our ranks."
As the President waved off her apologies, Sally failed to notice the stoic, almost fearful silence between the two commanders of the G.U.N and the bright, interested look of the President's mobian guest.
Mystic Ruins-Tails' workshop
15:22
Tails was in the middle of the most peaceful sleep of his life. For days before this, he'd stayed up late into the wee hours of the night- tinkering with the chaos emerald he'd been awarded for his part in saving Station Square. It was all worth it. If everything went as planned, the days of Eggman getting the jump on them or someone using the chaos emeralds for their own nefarious purposes would be a thing for the history books. He dreamed of being awarded the World Genius prize, the parades in his honor, and best of all- the thumbs up and hair ruffles he'd get from Sonic. He could practically hear the magic words come out of his mouth, "I'm proud of you, buddy!"
Just as he was about to get the key to the world and a solution to grow four, no, FIVE inches taller- he heard a frantic pounding at the door of his house. He gave a loud shriek as he was pulled from slumber and jumped from his bed. He fell, in a tangle of blankets and tails, to the floor below him. His eyes were so heavy, he could barely keep them open as he wrestled with the fabric prison that kept him from shutting the incessant pounding up. He groaned pitifully as he stumbled his way through his house and towards the door. He opened the door and was immediately blinded by the light of the summer afternoon. Tails adjusted his eyes and found, not Sonic, or a key to the world, or even a tiny emergency. To his dismay, he only found one Amy Rose at his doorstep with a wicked smile on her face and a full backpack behind her.
"Hey, Taaails... whatcha doin'?" She said in a cloying sing-song voice.
Tails glared at her pathetically before rubbing his eyes, "What'dyou wan'?" he whined.
"I need a faaavor~"
"I'm not driving you anywhere and I don't know where Sonic is," Tails quickly ground out while rubbing his poor blood-shot eyes, "Tools are over there, take whatever you want, just let me sleep and don't break anything."
Amy frowned, "You sure? I need to..."
"Please... Amy," he shot her a look that was practically in tears, he was so exhausted, "I... need to sleep. I don't even care if it's the Tornado. Just bring it back when you're done and let me sleep..."
As Tails stumbled into the wall a few times, Amy gently took him by the shoulders and guided him back to his room. Tails whined under his breath but allowed her to tuck him in and tousle his hair gently, "Sleep tight, Tails. And thanks for your help!"
Tails yawned and grumbled something under his breath before snuggling into his pillow with a smile. He was snoring by the time Amy marched back through his kitchen and into the basement area that led to his garage. She turned on the lights and was amazed by the absolute armory this kid had in his hangar. The walls cut deep into the cliff side, using the natural formation of the cliff to provide protection against the elements. Cables and rebar laced the walls from the ceiling all the way down to the water and they were lined with tables laden with gadgets, and experiments. The water, at high tide at that moment, was snaked purposefully around the machines like a moat. When she looked up to the ceiling, she saw the outlines of trapdoors that would open and lead up to the runway just outside his house. She ooh'd and aww'd over the planes for a moment before she stopped and frowned.
"These are great... but I don't know how to fly." She grumbled a little bitterly. She hadn't asked for flight training, but then Tails' hadn't either, if she remembered correctly. The empty promises of the princess, the Freedom Fighters, and even Sonic to teach her the basics mocked her at the edges of her mind.
"Why does Tails get to learn all the cool stuff? He gets to go on missions, be involved in planning… but I'm the one too young for that?" She thought, a little jealousy bubbling to the surface.
Amy shook out those miserable thoughts. Now wasn't the time to wallow in self pity or petty jealousy. She had a mission to complete. Someone had to look out for that haunted boy from her vision, and if everyone refused to help, she'd do it herself.
"Just like Birdy, and his family," she decided with a resigned nod.
She huffed in frustration but eyed the ATVs and the two cars Tails built and her frown deepened, "Those won't work..."
Her eyes feel on a three half-built boards on display over his workstation that sent her foot tapping in frustration, "I could boogie board my way there, I guess, but once I get to the island I'll be too tired to spy on Eggman!"
She pursed her lips and looked around the garage some more before she leaned against one of the cars. To her horror, the car actually started to slide. Before she could stop it, she had fallen over and the car had slipped and crashed into the moat of water around its display. She scrambled to try and get the thing back out of the water. As she pulled it back she realized that rather than sinking, the large car had started to float?
Upon closer inspection, she realized the car had a point in the front with a white bottom and bright golden yellow stripes on its sides. The seats were shaped like regular seats in a car, but the bottoms were now exposed so they could swivel and the floor was replaced with a hard wood deck. The clear black writing on the side declared this vessel to be dubbed, "The ROS Tsunami MKII". There was a lot of room to move about the cabin turned deck and Amy's smile grew brighter. She clapped and squealed with glee as she threw her bag inside and climbed aboard.
"I can't fly. But I can drive!" she crowed, "A boat can't be much different than a car! How bad could it be?"
She looked over the console and studied the buttons before her eyes fell on something that made her gasp, "A chaos emerald?"
And there it was, in all its golden yellow glory, sitting in the center console under a glass display dome that secured it into the boat. She smiled at this, "Great! No need to worry about running out of fuel! Now... where's the... AH HA!"
Amy found the button that displayed the map and fumbled through putting in the coordinates that she remembered from the map. She gave a victorious whoop as the engine roared to life and jerked towards the exit of the workshop. Her whoop turned to shrieks of fear as she barreled headlong towards a wall of rock. Just before she hit the solid wall she lunged towards the bow and summoned her hammer. She swung against the wall with all her might, opening a gaping gash that led out to the ocean. The boat sped out over the waves, leaving Amy to melt in a relieved puddle on the bow. She crawled back gingerly towards the captain's chair and practically slid into it. She wiped her brow and watched the console as it revealed the map to her destination.
"Okay... just a slight bump in the road," she murmured warily, "I can fix that when I get back. Tails never has to know. I can take some pictures, prove that Eggman is on the island, figure out what that capsule thing is and maybe find that boy stuck in the curse room! Easy as pie..."
Little did she know that pie is just... an absolute bitch and a half to make.
#Amy Rose#Shadow the Hedgehog#havenofear#Amy Rose is here!#Sonic Adventure 2#coming of age#just a side story from One Hundred Moments#A helping Hand
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Birthday prompt #4
(I’ll have them all posted in a couple of hours, she’d said. AH! Such naivety. Guys, I swear. Formatting nine stories on tumblr and on Ao3 is killing me xD)
Read on Ao3 Birthday prompts masterlist
@siszx
[Happy coming B day! Yay! (why am I so excited...) I’m thinking it might be a good idea to have behind scene POVs from both Cris and Agnes from ep 6-10 on how they became closer to each other...It might not be difficult for Cris to care about people as it is who he naturally is. But an intimate relationship? I bet he hasn’t been there with anybody for quite long... Well, is it too much to ask???]
Or: Cris and Agnes' relationship is complicated, it's weird, and it's worth it.
The first time they sleep together – the only time, so far – Cris knows Agnes is not just making a mistake. She calls it that, sure – rather unflattering, although he later comes to suppose that it has more to do with her being worried about hurting him than the other way around.
But it’s not just a mistake.
It’s a move. (It’s her trying to fill the void inside, to heal the terrible wounds Oh and her own actions have left on her soul. It’s her trying to distract herself from the fact that she’s just killed her once lover. Maybe it’s her trying to prove that she isn’t a praying mantis. Cris doesn’t know that the first night. He just knows it’s a move.)
They explore each other that night, but their souls remain off-limits. Agnes’ hand strays to Cris’ many scars and there’s a little bit of fear in her eyes, something not quite like horror, or disgust, but something unsettled. “Why do you even have scars?” She would ask if she dared, because her own skin is unmarred, flawless – because dermal regenerators are a thing and some of the scars are way too big and too bad not to have required one.
He wouldn’t answer even if she asked. Cris likes Agnes. He likes her shy smile, and the way she’s so tiny against his chest right now, the way she rambles when she’s nervous and often tries to annoy him into putting down his books. He likes how she’s so much lighter than the rest of them – except maybe for Elnor, although the kid knows death like few do, so maybe he isn’t that light after all.
What Cris doesn’t like is that he can see through the sunshine and the babbling and the cute smiles and make out the frayed edges, the anxiety that shouldn’t be here when you’re adorable and smart and sheltered like Agnes P. Jurati.
It could just be a one-night stand. That’s what they tell each other, that’s what Agnes desperately hopes for as Cris runs a gentle hand on her cheek and pushes her hair out of the way. They’re in her quarters, of course. He wouldn’t have sex in his own. That comforts her, in a twisted way, tells her he’s not actually letting her in. No broken hearts to worry about, then.
It also makes her feel empty, because Cris is so caring and so amazing and so anxious to meet her needs that it makes her wonder if the tough Captain thing isn’t all an act. She knew some of it was crap, sure. She knew that Cris cared. She’s just realizing how much.
And it’s not just about her either. He’s not in love, not at all. She clings to that while they have sex, remind herself that he won’t hate her in the morning. But she’s not that special. Cris just has a big heart, and so much room to fill.
That’s the mistake, in the end. Trying to feel better by sleeping with a guy she could care about. She asks him to leave when they’re done, and he doesn’t look upset. She feels terrible about it, and Elnor picks up on it the next morning.
Cris picks up on it too. He knows she’s not being honest, he knows proper little doctors who have never been to space and laugh in amazement at things like “romulan warrior nuns” and say “I’ve watered your plants” to make conversation don’t just decide to sleep away the pain.
She’s not the type, it doesn’t feel right. Cris is a pretty good judge of character, and when she sends him away he can see the despair in her eyes, the aborted hand motion that betrays her wanting to hold him there.
He leaves anyway, because if Agnes P. Jurati thinks sleeping with him was a mistake, that’s Agnes P. Jurati’s problem. It’s not his first one-night stand. He hasn’t invited her into his quarters anyway, it’s not like this is a heart thing.
He sees the signs when they approach the cube. The way she’s disappointed about not going aboard, tries to tell them it’s relief. Cris doesn’t buy it, because he knows people, he gets them without even having to try. That was part of his job as XO, really, the part that he’s pretty sure Emil inherited and he himself managed to retain. It’s not the same as being good with people, that one trait is a bit more damaged.
When he sees Agnes freaking out, when she says she’s done and that the Romulans will kill the robot girl and good riddance, he’s not sure what to do. He’s sure what to think though. Agnes throws up the cake and the Romulan snakehead is still tailing his Sirena (a snake trying to catch a fish, really, how stupid is that?), and he decides that they need to chat.
He really should have talked to Raffi before pressuring Agnes into admitting she’s the one with the tracker. He really shouldn’t have had the faintest sliver of suspicion towards Raffi at all, because she’s Raf, his big hermana Raf that he holds when she’s crying and stupid drunk, she’s Raf who’s been there for him and who he doesn’t even remember meeting because it’s been close to ten years now. He entertained the notion that maybe she had no choice, maybe she was being blackmailed with that kid of hers – it was dumb. It was dumb and he shouldn’t have.
It’s Raffi and he’s still not trusting enough for about half an hour, on the off chance that he’s wrong about Agnes, and it all goes to hell. He tells himself that he has to. He has to be cautious, because when he gets overconfident people get hurt, and he can’t add that to the blood that has painted the inside of his eyelids red. He can’t add to the nightmares.
So he doesn’t tell Raffi, and he goes to Agnes without realizing that Raf was onto her as well, and between the two of them they manage to push and press until Agnes completely shatters. Fuck him, so proud of himself for making her spill it, smiling at her like it’s an inside joke when she tells him it’s not Raffi.
Fuck him.
When he runs to sickbay, his EMH somberly tells him that another person has tried to kill themselves because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, and that’s enough to make him shatter bark at Picard when he asks for an ETA. It’s enough to make him avoid sickbay and to shove the memory of his night with Agnes in a dark part of his mind that he only visits against his will – every time he sleeps.
Then there’s not-Jana, and it’s all too much. It’s Raffi who’s there to hold him together when his broken pieces splinter and crack into smaller ones, crumble into dust and leave his soul bleeding and raw. It’s Raf who is family and strokes his cheek and hands him coffee, and it’s Raf who gets to hear that fucking story he’s never told anyone.
When he tells Raf about his P— his Captain, not his dad, never his dad, he has completely forgotten about Agnes P. Jurati and her own shipload of problems. Agnes, he likes. Agnes, he cares about. Raf is his shelter, and there’s no comparing the two.
But when he’s done crying and Raf is done holding him, and he feels the tiniest bit like he can try and be the composed starship Captain again, the caring overflows. It’s the only thing he can do to fix his messes, isn’t it? Caring about the people hurt along the way, and helping them through it. That’s the thing his Captain failed at, opting out of the cleaning up when Cris desperately needed him there to make sense of things.
Cris has failed enough to fail on that.
He gives Soji french fries and ice-cream, asks Agnes if she’s okay, and talks about the Ibn Majid. He lets Soji steal his ship to save her family – and really, what else can he do when he watched the person he cared about most blow is own brains out? – and he lets her risk la Sirena to get to synth planet faster.
He gives and he gives, because every time he tries to get he fucks it up so badly that he’s known for a long time now that he’s better off never wanting anything from anyone ever again.
It’s kind of a relief to know that it wasn’t really Agnes’ fault. It’s enraging to know that the one officer responsible for destroying his dreams and his family is the one who ripped Agnes’ innocence from her. It doesn’t feel fair, and he hates that the universe had apparently enough of a sense of irony to make them meet.
Really? He wants to shout to the stars. Really? Her life couldn’t suck on its own? Everyone’s trauma on this goddamn ship has to be linked to that one time we beamed two synths aboard the Ibn Majid and I gained a lifetime’s worth of nightmares?
That makes him care ever more. It’s not fair and nothing has ever been, and he puts his heart on the line once again and decides that he’ll protect them, all of them. He’ll protect Agnes the brainwashed murderer he slept with, and Picard the grand heroic ass who can’t see beyond his next move and his redemptive mission, and Soji the synth girl he can’t look at without aching and who could possibly be the death of them all, and Elnor the brave kid they thought they’d lost and who looks at them like the hang the stars in the sky. Seven and Raffi can take care of themselves, not like this rest, and he can count of them to have his back as well.
But that stupid crew? He’ll jump between them and phaser bolts, and he’ll grab not-Jana n°2’s hand right as she moves to touch Agnes’ face. Never mind that she’s probably ten times stronger than she is. Never mind that looking at her makes him want to sob, that he won’t sleep for two weeks after this. Never mind that Agnes says it’s fine.
He’s not fine with it, he’s not fine, Agnes is not fine, and he cares.
And then Agnes has a cat in her arms and asks him not to forget her, and she speaks Spanish like she does everything, carefully and looking very cute, and he strokes her cheek. She’s inolvidable, like the rest of that stupid crew.
Maybe, just maybe, Cris regrets not inviting her in his quarters. Maybe that was his mistake. Maybe they could have had something before the world burns, as it might still happen. Maybe he regrets leaving that night instead of holding on to her.
She’s light and she’s cute and she shines like the stars, and perhaps he shouldn’t always settle for the easier relationships, for caring from afar. Maybe his heart needs to start taking risks again, when his body has no problems doing so.
When it’s over, when they’ve managed not to die – except for Picard, oh god, Cris is not sleeping for a month after that – and when it’s time to mourn and to let their guard down, Cris opens up to Seven. They’re so much alike and she reminds him so much of Raffi that it’s not hard. After all, opening up to Agnes was just a maybe.
She’s in that lab anyway, tinkering with Soji and Soong and he doesn’t want to know why.
Then Picard is back. Because of course he is. Of fucking course. (Cris is not sleeping for a long, long month. He can’t bear to close his eyes and see his pops alive and well only to wake up and to remember that people don’t come back to life. Not unless they’re Jean-Luc Picard, too good and too saintly for death.)
Agnes and Soji and Soong bring Picard back, and then it’s all ancient history, and everybody kind of shyly asks Cris for a ride home, and then adds that they don’t have to go straight away, that they could make a few detours here and there.
“If you want to stay, you could just say so,” he tells them.
His voice doesn’t shake, his hands don’t either, but his soul certainly does – because what if they don’t want to?
They all want to.
He maybe cries a little once he’s alone with Raf. And then he remembers another maybe, a more important one. Cris doesn’t want to fall in love. He doesn’t want to play into the worn-out romantic tropes, doesn’t want to risk losing Agnes’ affection over something so trivial as sex or the label “boyfriend,” doesn’t want to risk falling out and making her hate him.
(He doesn’t think she would.)
All the same, they’re a crew now, and as an XO he’d never have pursued a relationship with any of the other officers. He tells her all of that before they leave Coppelius, the two of them huddled beneath that tree where he talked to Seven. Agnes pulls a face.
“We… We don’t have to,” she murmurs. “The sex, and the boyfriend-girlfriend thing, I mean. We don’t have do that, not right away.”
That gets him to tilt his head curiously. Agnes feels shy and nervous and like she might be about to cry, but it’s kind of in a good way. Kind of in a way she’s only ever felt for Bruce, and that she knows was wrong in that particular case but isn’t wrong now. She doesn’t want to mess it up either, not after almost fucking up their crew and miraculously being granted the others’ forgiveness.
She doesn’t want to burn with desire for Cris and promise him her whole heart and soul, and feel too much and too strongly when they’re all so exhausted. She wants to rest. And she wants to rest in Cris’ strong arms, her face hidden in his neck, and she wants to breathe in the scent of la Sirena and aguardiente and real cigars on his skin, and forget everything else.
She wants this to be soft and caring, and nothing like in the holos where people pull each other out from the brink of despair by kissing passionately and making great love speeches. She just wants to rest, and she wants Cris to care about her, and she doesn’t want much more.
“We could just take it slowly,” she clarifies, and there are no butterflies in her stomach because this isn’t some sappy young adult novel. Her skin tingle, but that’s just a hormonal reaction to being this close to Cris, and that’s not love. “I’m don’t think I want to be in love with you.”
He nods. He doesn’t want her to be either. He holds her close, presses a kiss to her temple and blows on her face to get the hair out of the way.
“I just want to love you,” she feels compelled to add. And because she’s nervous, she rambles. “I want to see this grow one day at a time, and I don’t want to rush things or make a mess, or make everything awkward for everybody else by fighting and breaking up and making up and making out and ruining what we have. I want to wake up in my quarters and go eat cereals with Elnor and Soji and everybody without being annoyed at you not being there or waking up too early or too late. I don’t want to worry about any more broken hearts, and I don’t want to see you as just my boyfriend.”
On that, they are agreed. Cris smiles at her and lets her rests her head on his shoulder, and he kisses her temple again, and he tells her that they could make it work. He asks if just kissing is okay, because he’d kind of missed it, and Agnes’ skin is unmarred and flawless and so very soft. She says yes, but not big passionate kisses, just soft ones like he’s giving her now, and that’s great, because that’s just what he had in mind.
He feels great about not being girlfriend and boyfriend yet, and he feels great that she too knows they’re still too raw and too clumsy and too out of practice with that kind of things to make it work. He feels great that this is still going somewhere, and that this somewhere might be a real intimate relationship one day. He feels great that she wants to love him. He feels great that what they have is going to be inolvidable, and not just another one-night stand or a lover that goes wrong.
He feels great that he loves her.
He feels great.
#my writing#birthday prompts#save tag#cristobal rios#cris rios#cristobal/agnes#agnes jurati#agnebal#star trek: picard#star trek picard
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Where I've Been and My Relationship with Social Media
Do I think anyone actually cares about this and missed my presence online? Well yeah. I have friends on here so I would like to imagine they did. I had one amazing and lovely soul sending me memes during my break and I love her for it! Am I screaming into the void in a way to work out my own emotional state? Well, yeah. This isn't for notes. This is for me.
It all started about two years ago. One of my best friends in the whole world, who I will refer to as Amy, messaged me one day before school and told me that she was stepping away from social media. She was deleting snapchat, Instagram, facebook and any other various profiles she had. At the time I felt like King George in 'I Know Him', I wasn't aware that was something a person could do. Why would this gorgeous, college age student want to get rid of her social media? Didn't she want to be connected to the rest of the world? Didn't she want the validation from her peers? Didn't she want to just be able to look up someone and know everything she ever needed to know about them? Keep in mind this was the time where I considered myself something of an internet sleuth for my friends, family and occasionally teachers (Shout out to Mr. Hunter). But she was my friend. And I was going to support the hell out of whatever Amy wanted to do.
To this day she is still off social media and she is happier than ever. And that freedom she felt from society constantly throwing all sorts of unachievable standards in her face all the time? Slowly became more attractive to me as I got older. A while ago, maybe around the same time Amy deleted everything (I really can't remember) I uninstalled Facebook from my phone. It was so freeing? I didn't have to see all the negativity on there and the politics from my father's side of the family. It was so nice. That's when I got my first taste for it. This freedom. But that's about all I did until my first year in college.
December - February were weird months for me. Specifically when I was at school. Looking back on it, some of the reasons why it was so weird seem trivial. But at the time they meant everything to me. It seemed like I was losing some irl friends and a few online ones. Not to mention college chemistry and accounting made me breakdown about 10 times total. I remember calling another one of my best friends, Ellie for the sake of the story, sobbing. I felt so genuinely alone. I felt like all the people up at my school either just barely tolerated me or hated me. I think that's the loneliest I've ever been.
You might be wondering why this has anything to do with social media? Well. Let me tell you. This emotional breakdown of mine happened after I saw a photo posted of two of my friends out getting doughnuts from our favorite place without me. It's so stupid. But I was in a very fragile place. I was trying to figure out a lot of things. Classes, friends, sexuality, past trauma, self worth, whether or not I should have gone to therapy. Looking back on it, Jesus Christ I wish I did. It was just a lot. So in a brash decision I deactivated my Instagram. Didn't tell anyone. Didn't think anyone would care. People did. So after about a week I reactivated it. I couldn't stand not knowing what people (aka Tom Holland and Taylor Swift) where posting. So I chugged along.
And then a fucking Pandemic happened.
It's nice to be home. I'm a total mama's girl and am attached to her at the hip. Which is another reason why I wasn't doing so hot at college looking back on it. But all I was doing at home was my class work and scrolling through the toxicity that is Twitter, the pretty photos of Instagram or Tiktok. I would get frustrated at the people not wearing masks or that people were still going out in public. And it slowly worked at my nerves.
Before I knew it, Black Lives Matter was in full swing because of the disgusting murder of George Floyd by the racist police officer. There are two things you need to know about me: I am extremely empathetic and I have seen some shit. I have never been so distrusted or viscerally affected by a piece of footage in my whole life. After that, I was on Twitter reading and retweeting everything I could. Signing every petition I saw pop up. Trying to educate myself. And I did. I will be the first to admit, I still have a lot to learn what it means to be a good ally. But the negativity and guilt I was feeling, was coming from me. Nothing I did felt good enough. I wasn't able to attend protests because of online classes and I was only able to donate about $20 dollars to charity because I am not working right now. It just didn't feel good enough in my eyes. I wanted to do so much more. And for the record I still want to do more. I'm looking into ways that I can help the BLM movement, even though I am currently off social media.
And that's when something happened that I wasn't expecting. I was rewatching an old episode in Jacksepticeye's animal crossing series where he went off on a tangent about social media and mental health. I was making breakfast while I was watching it. I stopped dead in my tracks and listened to what he had to say. And I kept it in my as I watched the current state of my YouTube life get turned upside a few weeks ago.
That's when I realized social media was really hurting my mental health. That day I deleted Twitter from my phone and deactivated Instagram again. At this point I had already deleted Tumblr from my phone because at the time I thought this site was the soul reason I was unhappy with my relationship on the internet. This was the first time I purged myself of all three of these social medias at that the same time. Also I stopped looking at snapchat stories and privated a lot of my boards on Pinterest. And it was so good. I have been so much happier since cutting the negativity and helplessness I felt out of my life. I was calmer. I allowed myself to focus on the things that made me happy.
I was getting to hang out with my friends a little bit more. I started playing DnD and am in love with my character. I started taking more Polaroids. I was taking drives. I'd sit at the park with ice cream and enjoy summer. Dancing alone in my house. I was writing again and developing characters that I've had for years that are desperate need of a face lift. Baking and cooking again. Watching things that made me happy. I was living for me and finding positivity in my life again.
And I still am. It's still a work in progress sometimes to be happy like I want to be. But I'm willing to put in that work. It just so happened that cutting social media and that tie to society was what I needed. It was a small step, but it put me in a good direction. I've decided to come back to Tumblr and take my blog back for me and ignore some of the personal reasons why I got rid of it in the first place. This was a power move for me, and I'm happy to be back.
I've been debating about making a new Instagram account, to follow a select number of friends but probably not. I'll be damned if I ever redownload Twitter on my phone again. So if you're one of my mutuals and you want to talk outside of tumblr the social medias I still have are: discord, pinterest, and snapchat.
TL;DR: I got really sad and frustrated. So I pulled a Taylor Swift pre REP era and disappeared. I'm doing pretty good and am still working on achieving my definition of happiness. And if I had to give advice, I guess I'd say that take a week break from social media see how you feel. Who knows, you might not even miss it.
Remember: Drink water, moisturize, wear a mask, Black Lives Matter and Always Keep Fighting
W/ Love,
Laura
#bruh#idk if anyone is going to read this all the way though but i needed an outlet.#who knows maybe I'll just write make this a proper blog or something#whose to say#anywho!#positivity#l.speaks#screams into the void
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Did You Miss Me?: Darkiplier in 2018
For the most part, 2018 was a quiet year. In contrast with 2017, where we were gratified to see Dark's monochromatic visage throughout the year, 2018 carried playful hints and teasing of the elusive entity's presence but no confirmation. There were thumbnails and quick flashes that indicated He was continuing to pull strings, ensuring that His presence was felt but His face never really seen.
Throughout 2017, He'd show up during what us mere mortals consider major holidays or important events. Valentine's Day. Easter. Even Cinco de Mayo got a nod. And of course, the infamous Friday the 13th late in the year.
But 2018? He apparently decided to stay home in the void during our days of revelry, with the possible (though not confirmed) exception of the decidedly strange Fall in Love with Markiplier video for Valentine's Day. And for the TWO Friday the 13ths in 2018? He was a no-show. In 2017, He'd returned to shake things up in our safe little lives... and in 2018, He left us wanting more, like the skilled manipulative seducer He is.
Getting Over It, Part 8 included a thumbnail with Mark's dour expression and a suspiciously familiar colour scheme. The thumbnail for WATCH OUT!! had Mark reaching for us in a state of panic (which belied the contents of the video itself).
Try Not to Smile Challenge #3, while the smile-free serial killer laugh is creepy, it's not a Darkiplier moment. Though, him joking near the end of the video that people who didn’t smile at some point during the video are "soulless demons" does seem to be a Darkiplier reference of some kind (or maybe a Devilplier reference, since the Cuphead song was released just two months later)?
In Madison, when his game character watches a television that glitches and fades to static, Mark fearfully squeaks, "Darkiplier, is that You?!" While in the description for End My Suffering, just ten days later, Mark wailed, "What malevolent being did I piss off to be cursed like this!"
Brother Wake Up promised "I’ll try to help in whatever way I can but you have to wake up!" Which, while it fit perfectly with the title of the game, the description also fit pretty damn well into the channel lore too. And Umfend's description was likewise ominous: "You shouldn't have forgotten about me... I'll make you remember..."
Meanwhile, the title for the video of Welcome The The Game 2.0 doubles as a callback to an earlier Darkiplier moment: "Don't Play This Game". Horns of Fear did it one better, with the thumbnail featuring many eyes staring out at the viewer (again with an all-too-familiar colour scheme), while the title warned us "DON'T LOOK AWAY..."
In the Warframe playthrough late in the year, Mark's camera briefly freezes. But in 3 Scary Games #9, his camera freezes repeatedly before glitching back to normal, and he implies that "there's something else" messing with the camera. In 5 Nostalgic Games, when Mark gives the definition of ubiquitous and bares his teeth while saying "We're learning today!", the video suddenly glitches.
The thumbnail for Markiplier has fled the country had Mark lunging at the camera, his face completely darkened by shadow. And the thumbnail for 3.75 Scary Games blatantly toyed with the fandom with text shouting "DARKIPLIER?"
And the fanbaiting didn't stop there. More thumbnails that hinted at Dark included a hand bathed in blue light reaching out to the viewer for the fittingly titled The Devil Haunts Me, and a cartoon of Mark cowering away from Dark's furious glare for You're Perfect.
Markiplier's Tour: The Movie featured the improv teacher stating that Markiplier wasn't at the shows. "I don't know who that guy was, but it wasn't him." Even the Markiplier Animated short I've Got Boobs?! features a brief scene of a shadowy Darkiplier rising from a well and whispering something unintelligible.
For the most part however, the teasing came directly from out of Mark’s mouth.
In 3 Scary Games #5, Mark jokes that a ghost (clad in the classic white sheet and glitching somewhat) is Darkiplier. 3 Scary Games #13, the first (jokey) game called "Death Trips" features RGB text and Mark narrating in an echoing voice. In Midnight Shift, a game where Mark is memorably being chased by mannequins, he jokes that an RGB poster on a wall is "expricitly [sic] Darkiplier". In SCP Containment Breach #57, Mark jokes when he sees the intro screen of a pretty lady in 3D with an open third eye, "Look at this Darkiplier ass thing... it's like Celine, straight out of [Who Killed Markiplier?]".
In 3 FNAF Fan Games, he even chortles that the game has “Darkiplier letters.” In Devil Daggers, he scoffs, “A high-pitched ringing in the darkness. That’s always good.”
[Image captured by me, on June 3, 2018.]
Just before midsummer, I received a pleasant surprise. In Imscared: Steam Edition, Mark says "I gotta go get back into the Shadow Realm, the Upside Down." Which, personally, made me very happy at the time. Since I first became active on Tumblr in July 2017, I've been referring to Dark's void dimension as the Shadow Realm, while Mark has referred to it in the past as the Upside Down, making the link fairly clear in this statement. (Somehow, whether by happy accident or serendipity, my terminology and its proper context made its way to Mark. As a fan, I can't describe how pleased that made me, to know he might have actually seen something I’ve made.)
(But enough about me. I’m just an obsessive Darkiplier fangirl. So let’s get back to cataloging all the hinty goodness!)
By this point, you’re probably wondering, “Okay, so all those hints are decent. But where the hell is Dark in all of this?!” But that’s the point, my friends: He was there the whole time. In brief flashes of imagery, in hints and innuendo. Unseen, but his presence clearly felt as our expectations were played with by our channel host.
We expected a wild ride at the beginning, when Mark made two brief livestreams on January 5th, wandering through the theatre he was slated to play for the You’re Welcome Tour.
The first of the two, “What’s Going In?!”, he showed us the back area of the Paramount Theatre, using only improvised narration and acting to build an atmosphere of dread. He claimed the theatre was haunted, and that he could smell “the scent of death”, ultimately vowing to protect those who would be visiting the theatre to see him that night. He also declares the EXIT a trap, before being pursued by an unseen entity.
The drama continued with “...” (a title that is impossible to find using Youtube’s search options), that begins with an eerie quiet. Tyler eventually finds Mark’s dropped phone. He asks the viewers where Mark is, before going on a search. He’s eventually attacked from behind and the stream cuts off, leaving those who weren’t at the show that night to wonder how the matter resolved.
In Simulacra, there's a brief flash of Mark in his Big Mood outfit with text saying "WAKE UP". When the simulacra changes the colour of the cellphone's display and begins to speak in a calm, creepy voice, Mark reflexively responds, "Darkiplier?" and sounding unnerved at the mention of "behind your black mirrors", then being stunned as the screen appears to crack.
At the end of Simulacra, he gives an uncharacteristically downbeat speech, declaring that "We're all just digital copies of ourselves, idealized in a digital form. And maybe that's the way that life is just supposed to be. Maybe we should all just roll over and accept it, because there's nothing that we can do to change our fates, after all. And who's to say that it's not better for us just to wear the masks that are our digital personas, and live our lives as those? Maybe that is for the best."
The How To Make Slime video goes from harmlessly silly and takes a twist for the stabby. Mark declares "In order to appease the Dark Gods..." then he instructs the viewer to slice their palm and "whisper the words of power." The words in question? "They shall rise. They shall consume. All will be lost when they rise from the darkness of the ocean. Madness opens up to everything." When the making of the slime is concluded, he adds that "We all get to enjoy three years of peace before the Dark Gods consume us all."
I have no idea what that means, but I’m pretty sure it may involve Cthulhu chomping on my kidneys. (Then again, Darkiplier is a Lovecraftian monstrosity Himself. So, if it’s Him who’s one of the Dark Gods? He can have a kidney from me if He’s really that hungry. Kidneys are a redundant system anyway, so you really only need one.)
April Fool’s Day brought us the gag gift of The Official Markiplier Rock, with a suspiciously deep voice informing us that the rock is available in white. Additionally, the video warned to alert the SCP Foundation if the rock appears to start talking! (What? My rock has been talking to me since I got it, and there’s nothing wrong with me!)
Baldi’s Basics: Secret Ending featured an explanation about attaining the secret ending, with Mark’s otherwise normal voice echoing slightly with subtle white noise effects. (Hmmm...)
In December, for the charity livestream and archived in a video called Santa Spills The Tea, a Santa Claus that sounded suspiciously like Wilford Warfstache declared that Dark, the master manipulator and Big Bad of Mark’s channel, was a “sweetheart! He shouts a lot, but he’s just a big ol’ pussy. He can’t even possibly… he didn’t hurt anybody! He didn’t kill one person! If there’s anybody who’s on my naughty li— uh, on my list of people who’ve been bad, he’s the only one not on it.” (And mind you, in 2017′s Markiplier TV, Wilford sang a little ditty about how he killed Santa Claus and the kids wouldn’t be getting any presents that year. And Dark still convinced us to shoot someone in A Date With Markiplier, while apparently feigning regret. But heck, use your own judgement.)
Mark also dropped one heck of a hint of things to come in, of all places, Markiplier Tries Korean Beauty Products. There, the descriptive intro to the following year’s DAMIEN animated feature can be heard at one point. “Snow blankets the field, a pristine meadow of untouched white. No animals call. No birds cry. Only the steady rustling of wind through dead trees accented by the impact of his axe. A crack-like thunder rings out as the ancient pine finally succumbs to his murderous assault. The old giant crashes into the ground. Dami-”
Wilford Motherloving Warfstache was, of course, focused on the mustachioed entity. But there were elements to the short film that felt like Darkiplier was watching along with us. Particularly the VHS-style glitch at the end of the film.
Of course, there were only three videos that year that potentially contained Darkiplier himself.
One candidate is Fall in Love with Markiplier. Yes, the name on the title is Mark’s... but is it really him? The entirety of the film is a fourteen minute staring contest with Mark, as he lovingly (and somehow also creepily) gazes at the viewer in different settings -- by the ocean, at a dog park, and in a bubble bath. The only spoken words are in the intro, over the strains of the music from A Date with Markiplier: “It’s scientifically proven that you can fall in love with someone simply by maintaining eye-contact for an extended period of time. So now, you can fall in love with Markiplier all over again in these three locations. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
The second candidate is World’s 5th Quietest Let’s Play, released just 5 days prior to the Let’s Have a Romantic Staring Contest video. Unlike the previously mentioned video, there’s more going on this time around. The game to be played quietly this time around is Bennett Foddy’s infamous rage-inducing creation “Getting Over It”.
He threatens the developer with the words, “You will see the inside of your entrails, when I drag them out of your abdomen and show them to you.” (Ah, how romantic.) He goes even further than that, saying soon after, “This is a representation of My sins... You will be purged in the fires of absolution, along with all of your ilk. I will burn the heretics that you are harbouring inside of your soul... I will destroy you.” (Now there’s the smite-happy Hellgod we all love!)
But He doesn’t stop there, snarling under His breath, “You will burn in the fires of My own hell! And I will choose your pain to last eternity!” However, He is ultimately defeated by the game, departing our company with “Alas, I leave you now, to slumber amongst the ancients.” (Aww, poor guy needs a hug. And I know just who’s ready to snuggle with Him...)
But the last of the video to potentially contain Darkiplier is... the four-hour long play through of Hearts & Heroes. Is it canon Dark? No, probably not. It’s a fan game, though the words of dialogue are acted out by Mark himself. But rather than simply recounting key phrases for you, here’s the Boss Battle between Mark’s team and Dark, edited by the lovely icedpinkpeebles (Mark’s goofy character names and all!):
youtube
So, what does all of this ultimately mean? Why did Darkiplier fade into the background in 2018? And, most importantly, what is He up to now?
The truth is I don’t know any more than you do. I can only guess.
But I can tell you this: We don’t know Darkiplier as well as we all think we do. Many of us (including me) fully expected Dark to raise hell following the events of the jokey Darkiplier vs Antisepticeye video in 2017 (because He did mention how He hates being mocked!). And while we did get more Dark at the end of that year, it was in the form of an origin story.
Whatever Dark’s planning, we’re not going to see it coming. Because He’s playing a long game. And when you’re immortal like He is, you have all the time in the world to get what you want. Be it for love or revenge, Darkiplier remains a force to be reckoned with.
But here we are, in the eye of the storm. Only time will tell before the final wrath of the hurricane makes landfall.
#markiplier#darkiplier#markiplier fandom#darkiplier fandom#iplier egos#dark egos#2018 recap#vid: simulacra#vid: how to make slime#vid: santa spills the tea#vid: fall in love with markiplier#vid: world's 5th quietest let's play#hearts and heroes
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Howdy Kim! How can we best show our love+ support for you and the wonderful things you write?
Well, I guess... I guess responses of any sort are fine. A few words with the tumblr reply function, tags of varying amounts (doesn’t need to be a full on tag essay), reblog, likes, the usual things people do to interact here. Reviews, if you mean the material I put up in AO3. Commissions, maybe, if there is a specific something you’d really like me to write/translate/work on. Anything, really, that confirms there is a point in me producing my work.
Does that make sense? Is it asking for too much? ... I honestly don’t know now. I remember I used to be insistent to the point of belligerence when it came to receiving a writer’s due, but I stopped because it made me look like an awful and impatient human being. Does asking for any of the above make me a bad person? I feel like a bad person. I just don’t know how to ask for those things anymore in a way that doesn’t make me seem like an attention seeker. I don’t know if that’s possible. I really wonder if I should just give it up sometimes. Not writing itself, not completely (it is my primary hobby after all, has been for years and costs exactly £0), but the platform. Maybe I should just give up fanfic altogether. I do want to publish at least one book in my lifetime because I know I can write something good, maybe I don’t have an earth-shattering masterpiece in me but I know I’m a damned good writer, maybe I’m just shouting into the void when I could have more support elsewhere. But then I remember the bigger fandoms I’ve been in, where I had more active fans than I have now, and I honestly don’t know if I was happier being in those spaces. I don’t think I was. Too much drama. I’m happiest when I can create at my own pace and time while also getting a steady, varied stream of feedback at the same time... but that’s a massive investment, isn’t it? That requires a lot of people to support me constantly. That’s not reasonable. Not in this economy. That’s frankly a galling thing to ask when I’m just a random anonymous writer who’ll probably just fade away into fandom history never to be seen again. Maybe the solution is original writing, except I would have to start over entirely from the beginning to build up anything like a fanbase or supporters with original writing, and I’m not sure I can handle starting over again. I just don’t know what to do or ask anymore I’m sorry this doesn’t make a whole lot of sense this is probably not the answer you were expecting. Normal methods of support are fine. People who I regularly talk to on here are 100% people who already contribute to my work and well-being, so they’re fine. The usual. The usual is fine, is what it boils down to.
I’m just. I’m just very tired and demotivated
#you're fine anon you just hit upon a question people haven't asked in a long time#and my feelings are in a mess because i haven't organized them in eons#thanks for checking up on me though whoever you are#Anonymous
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Hi! As a fanfic writer myself, I wanted to ask you if you've ever thought about just... not writing anymore. Because I'm blocked and it seems like it would be a lot easier to quit than to keep pushing myself when I don't have motivation.
Hey, thanks for stopping by :)
So, here’s the thing. I’d love to say that no, I’ve never considered stopping writing. I’d love to say that I’m always feeling inspired and motivated and all that good stuff. I’d love to say that I can always see myself still writing fic in a year or even two or five years. I’d be lying to you if I said those things.
Writing takes so much energy. It takes time to come up with an idea, to sit down and write it, to edit, to publish, to fret over. If you’re a perfectionist, it takes energy to examine every word of your piece. Even if you’re not, it takes mental energy to put words onto a screen in the order you want. Writing takes even more energy if there are other energy-sapping things going on in your life or in your brain.
Writing fic can be exhausting when your work doesn’t get as much feedback as you’d hoped for. It can feel like you’re shouting into the void, and no one is even noticing your efforts. It can make you question your own skill, or make you fear for the fandom (what if no one else even puts in effort anymore?).
Writing takes your time away from your friends, your family, your pets, your life. I finished undergrad in May, and honestly, there were times during my last semester (while I was posting a huge multichap) where I wondered if it was worth sacrificing my limited time with my friends in order to write. I’m often tempted to quit or at least take a break from writing at these times, for the opportunity cost of writing.
I’ve considered quitting writing fic more times than I can count. There will be times I’ll look at the fic ideas and prompts I have lined up and just feel so uninspired and bored with them that it makes me wonder why I should bother. Other times, I’ll come on Tumblr and see only minute amounts of content and become discouraged that the fandom is lulling--so why bother? Other days, my brain just doesn’t want to cooperate and isn’t being nice. Over the last week, I’ve moved across the country and am starting over in grad school with no friends in close physical proximity, and that has taken a toll on my peace of mind and desire for creativity. Your anon could not have been more aptly timed, actually, because even just today I’ve debated quitting fic writing so many times that it makes me feel a little ashamed.
So, yeah, I’ve considered quitting. The thing is, though, that once you start writing fic--once you open that part of yourself--it doesn’t fall away without a fight. Writing takes energy, but it is also incredibly rewarding to have a completed piece in front of you, whether it’s 500 words or 50,000+. Writing can be exhausting without feedback, but just because people aren’t commenting or reblogging or whatever doesn’t mean they aren’t enjoying your work. People are shy, and readers are not always writers--they might not know what to say. If you’re putting out work into a fandom, I can guarantee that someone out there, even if it is just one person, is reading it and enjoying it. They are thankful that you wrote it, even if they don’t know how to tell you. Focus on them. Writing takes time, but if can also be managed. Write for 20 minutes instead of watching a Netflix episode. Take longer to write a WIP in order to spend time with people you love. Manage your time writing, and don’t be consumed by it. Go outside for a while. It takes practice, but I believe in you.
And when your brain won’t cooperate, well, it’s probably because it’s tired. Take a break. Take time for introspection; maybe you’re not writing what you actually want to write. Maybe you’re too stressed this week. Maybe you’re in a bad mood now, but in a few days you’ll be feeling better. Take breaks, whether days or weeks or even a month or two. In my experience, I do my best plotting and “reviving” when I stop thinking about writing for a few days. The brain needs rest.
Take breaks if you need, but try not to quit if writing still makes you happy, even once in a while. Don’t push it, but only write when you want. Every time I’ve considered stopping, I realize that not writing would be more painful than writing is.
So I’m not about to quit, and I hope that you’ll join me in not quitting. Keep writing. I think you’ll be glad you did.
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i'm not sure if you ever dealt with this but how do you deal with things when the graphics or gifs you post get less than 100 notes? I know i shouldn't validate myself through note count but i tend to do that a lot and feel like making graphics is a waste of my time even though it's a process that makes me really happy and i don't really know how to get my stuff to be noticed more and i feel really embarrassed to tag blogs. thank you for reading this i really am thankful for your kindness
Hey anon, I am so sorry you are feeling upset!! I think most content creators on Tumblr/any other platform can sympathize with how you feel - it can be very disheartening to see something you’ve put a lot of work into go unnoticed. I definitely understand how you feel. There is no shame in how you are feeling, so don’t put yourself down! I’ve been on Tumblr for many years and I think it has gotten a lot harder for content creators to share their graphics but also to reach people with them. I personally believe there are many reasons for why that is, but that doesn’t really matter as we can’t change anything about it :/ But I do believe there are some ways to help!
KEEP ON MAKING GRAPHICS. The most important thing - don’t stop because you feel like it is a waste of your time! If it is something that makes you happy and that you enjoy doing, DO NOT GIVE UP! Especially not because of something silly as notes! But I’ll get back to that!
Tagging your posts is the most important thing, I guess. As much as having a lot of followers/mutuals/etc. might help, exposure through tags is what enables others to find your graphics at any time.Keep in mind:- Only the first five tags show up! If you want other people to find your edits you need to make your first five tags as specific as possible. - I always make sure my first five tags are tags that are used by a lot of people. For almost any fandom there are tags like ‘_edit’ or ‘_graphics’ (e.g. ghibliedit) that anyone can use. Make sure you use these, as a lot of people will check them out regularly! You are also not tagging anyone specifically if you are too shy to do that (which is absolutely fine!). So for example, I recently started creating edits for Stranger Things. I tried searching for the tag ‘stedit’, which does indeed exist and from there I looked at how other creators are tagging their posts. Tumblr does also recommend similar tags, so make use of those as well. See which ones you feel comfortable with using and make sure you tag your creations with them! - If you are too shy to tag specific users, maybe consider tagging an update/daily fandom blog that is run by a lot of members. They rely on us content creators helping them keep their daily content coming, so never feel too shy to tag them! Most have specific tags they created just so they can easily see your content! You can find their specific tags in their blog description most of the time. You absolutely do not need to feel shy, plus your edits will also be exposed to a huge audience, as most of these blogs have a lot of followers. I’d definitely recommend giving it a go, there are multiple ones for almost any fandom and as I said, content is what keeps them going! - If you feel too shy to tag others, you can always tag me!! I would be more than happy to see everyone’s beautiful edits and I would never judge anyone. I don’t have a tag yet, but #pentragons or #userpentragons should work perfectly! You are always welcome to message me, tag me, whatever
There are people saying there are specific times when you should be posting as more people will be online, though I don’t know much about that myself. You can read more about it here, for example. I have always (and that’s a lot of years by now!!) posted my stuff on Friday evenings, sometimes Saturday evenings (European time!). Make of that what you will, I personally do it because it’s the most convenient time for me :D
As I said, please don’t stop creating! I’ve had ups and downs myself and there were years where my blog went completely silent. I didn’t create anything new for years because as you said, I was wondering a lot: what’s the point? I have a bit of a different viewpoint now and have honestly never created more things than in the last few months. I am doing it because I feel inspired and because it’s fun. And that’s it. And as much as a lot of notes can make you feel happy, they are not what should keep you going!A) Recently, a wonderful anon messaged me and told me I was “brave” because I was making “things just because you are inspired by that content not for material gain or anything”. And I sat there for a moment and thought - heck yes!!? I’ve never seen it that way but it is a brave thing to expose your art to others. And it is a brave thing to do it out of honest enjoyment and inspiration, not for any gain. Content creators and their bravery to share their works are what keep this website going. I think you are wonderful, brave and an inspiration to many with your edits and it does not matter if there are 100 notes or 1000 because you were brave enough to post it and that is worth more than any notes! YOU are constantly evolving and getting better at what you are doing, YOU are having fun creating something, YOU felt as excited and inspired by something to try to create something - that is beyond amazing!! And I do believe that there are many people out there who are just as excited about what you created as you are - that’s what the tags are for!B) I always try to picture every note as a person that I am meeting to share the fandom love with. Now imagine 50 people standing around you right now. Isn’t that a crazy number?! 100 people - they wouldn’t even fit into my house! I don’t even know that many people in RL so imagine how crazy that is!! We always tend to make ourselves feel small because numbers can be crazy on social media. 10.000 likes here, 5.000 notes there. But when you get back to what these numbers mean, that these are actual people being excited about your edits, then I think every single note is worth so much. I know it’s not really any help but it might make you feel less like you are shouting into a void.
To sum it up: using the tags wisely + creating with a lot of passion is all you can do. There isn’t any magic to it, no secret tricks I know of (if anyone does, please share!!)… but it helps. And if it still doesn’t, then please, don’t feel discouraged - your creations are wonderful and you are so amazing for sharing them, no matter the notes you get. Thank you for trusting me enough to send your message and thank you for being so sweet and honest. I am sorry if this isn’t of much help! I only hope you never ever stop creating!
#sorry if this isn't helpful!! i tried but honestly tumblr can be so difficult sometimes#keep creating and stay amazing!#replies
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>Cyberneticlagomorph is live on Caster! 🔴
>the stream opens with Jack leaving his little ranch house out in space, he nearly stubs his toe on a mammoth pile of seedlings and farming supplies that someone has delivered right to his door. He silently moves the items to the nearby empty barn while the chat starts to fill up with regulars and strangers alike
>"kingofsteves: yooo two streams in two days? It's like he almost has a schedule [emoji of a very smug looking turnip with eyebrows but no eyes]"
>jack isn't saying much, he's likely ignoring the stream or else lost in thought. Several people are yelling about space and want Jack to do some kind of tour but he probably has something else planned
>after all the items are stored he does numerous flips through the cold, thin air, aided by the lack of gravity, much to the chat's overall delight. While turning lazily in midair he just sort of watches everything swirl by
>"Today we're on the hunt for stardust at the request of one of my newer Tumblr mutuals, if you aren't following my blog already you really should as I am way more active there. "
>some kind of fancy graphic shimmies its way on screen and proclaims the urls of his other social media in true streamer fashion. Jack gives a shout out to his cousin for making said graphic and promotes her Caster channel.
>He's flying again now, swooping through the void on those strange leathery wings towards the coral market and all the wonders it holds. He is met by a chorus of curator song, the place is abuzz with activity. But instead of swooping into the market proper, he swings around to land on the deck of Mr Spirits' ship, the Skintwister.
>he is met by the usual shanties and rough-looking crew peddling their wares, those he bought the boat and fishing rod harpoon... thing from give him updates as he passes. He is looking for Mr Spirits.
>he finds the old bat deep in the belly of the Skintwister, conversing with a thick, brick shithouse of a bat. She is dripping with jewelry and fine fabrics, lounging upon a pile of gold and treasures, curled ever carefully around several very large eggs
>as old as she is, she's still very beautiful and powerful, with jaws that could easily take someone's head off. The entire chat wonders if she's single.
>"internmarce: PLEASE TELL THESE TWO BATS THAT I LOVE THEM MORE THAN I THINK I'VE EVER LOVED ANYTHING IN MY WHOLE AFTERLIFE??? [Several amorphous emojis that radiate a deep pining and thirst for affection but don't really have a shape that makes any kind of sense]"
>Mr Spirits escorts Jack back to the deck, asking him what he's come for, if he is interested in items from Mr Treasures' hoard. Mr Treasures being the bat seen just earlier. Jack asks the old skyfarer if he knows where to find stardust.
>"Ah, bold little thing you are, to hunt for something as grand as that. For the right price I can have one of my crew take you to the place you seek, but be warned this isn't an easy task." rumbles the old bat
>the chat is flooded with affectionate emojis and thirsty proposals of marriage. Jack accepts the terms and Spirits calls over another curator, the one that sold Jack his fishing rod.
>they speak in Correspondence, the language of fire and stars. It kinda hurts to see and hear but jack is doing his best to bleep it out and translate it on screen which is no small feat. According to the subtitles both captain and crewbat are discussing taking jack out to hunt 'fallen stars' , and after a few moments preparations (which jack spends bouncing around the market, window shopping), jack and the crewbat set off in a smaller vessel, out into the Lawless void yonder
>not a lot happens for quite awhile, just sailing, sometimes in silence, sometimes with odd little shanties sung by the crewbat. They call themself Mr Hooks, they're young for a curator. Maybe the species equivalent of 20 or so. They seem very sweet.
>jack isn't paying much attention to the scenery anymore, just sprawled across the little boat's deck with his head back, watching things go by. The roar of the Wilder-winds is near musical here, it tents the sails and urges the boat along at impressive speed.
>Mr Hooks slows the boat to a crawl suddenly and urges Jack to stand. It points at something in the distance, Jack has to adjust the zoom on his eye in order to see it.
>it's a long streak of light, serpentine and golden, behind it is a trail of glittering dust like glitter but base boosted. Upon further inspection, it appears that the streak of light is some sort of creature, it's a bit like a fish, a dragon, and a snake all rolled into one, with a great fiery mane around it's head and face
>"our prey" says Mr Hooks, steering the vessel back into the winds, the chat and jack both are bursting with excitement. Most of the chat wants to marry this strange glowing creature, the rest is loudly pleading that Jack not hurt it.
>the creature turns suddenly and makes a beeline for the little boat, much to everyone's alarm.
>soon its upon them, the creature now curling around the ship and by god is it MASSIVE. A titanic stellar serpent, covered in blazing eyes, and countless soft feathers. A huge fin runs the length of its spine and its head is wreathed in sun-fire, yet its eyes burn somehow brighter
>Mr Hooks gently, but firmly, grabs jack by the back of his neck as the creature begins to speak in a voice without gender or langue, a voice somehow understandable by anything and everything. Musical and clearly amused as it circles the vessel like a shark
>"hello little lost star, won't you sail away with me? Can't you hear the Wilderness calling to you? Come, chase comets and taste stories with me. Lose your Lesser skin and be a star again, won't you? Please? "
>thanks to Mr Hooks firm grip, jack is unable to move, he hesitantly, sadly refuses. The great star-thing doesn't ask again, but seems to pout, huge eyes studying the ship and its passengers.
>"til we meet again then, little star." it uncoils and zips away, leaving a thick cloud of shed feathers in its wake. They soon turn to glowing ash without the warmth of their host to keep them lit. Mr Hooks fetches something like a large ladle on a very very long pole and a simple jar from the supplies they've brought.
>jack and Hooks take turns scooping up the ash, the stardust, and pouring it into the jar until it's full to the brim. Jack holds the thing up to his face so the chat can see, his awestruck smile distorted in the glass
>"mission accomplished"
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Grimwatch Kinktober - Day 8 - Hex
Blood/Gore | Junkrat x GN Reader
Warning should be self evident but if wounds and blood make you squick please avoid this! Putting this under a read more for those who are squeamish. If you can’t access this due to Tumblr mobile being a dingus please send us an anon and I will find another way to get this to you!
also i know i’m behind pls bear with me i’m trying to catch up
It's rare enough to come across a proper house in the Outback. Rarer still to find one that hasn't yet been picked clean by other scavengers. You haven't looked in the windows yet - but the powerbox is intact, which means no one's stripped it for the copper, even though you can clearly make out the footprints coming and going. Two sets - or, one and a half, rather. One set bigger, deep marks in the dirt from heavy duty boots worn by a heavy duty man. The other one scrawny, small holes in place of a right foot.
Junkers, likely. Strange that they'd have a cache this far out from Junkertown - even stranger that they'd keep it well maintained like this. It's practically an invitation for scavengers.
Still, you're careful as you creep around the lot, circling, getting tighter and tighter with each round you make, scanning the dirt for anything suspect - traps or triggers, bombs waiting just under the surface. But you find nothing.
The sun beats down on your brow, sweat beading on your forehead and crawling down the side of your nose.
You check again.
----
The door has nothing rigged to it that you can figure out, but your heart still skips a beat when it creaks open. One breath. Two. There's no sound of a hidden spring. You slip past it gingerly.
On the inside, it definitely looks like a junker home - there's an odd mismatch of things scattered about the place like makeshift furnishings - one part of the living room oddly tidy, small teacups set down in a circle. The rest of it looks like something out of the omnic crisis; gears and grease and parts littering every available surface. It's not pretty, but there's an opportunity here that you can smell over the stale scent of oil and unwashed sweat.
If you can find their stash.
It's the only reason you can think of for them to be so far out here.
----
There's only one room left to check, and it's not the one you'd hoped for. You've spent a good part of the last twenty minutes combing carefully through each and every square foot of the small shack, but outside a disturbingly large collection of stuffed animals, you'd found nothing even remotely of value.
Which is why you find yourself staring down into the black void that awaits you - a cellar of some sort enshrouded by dark. You have to squint just to see the damn steps, but after a quick test for any tripwires, you descend. You spent a good while checking this place, and you'll be damned if you're leaving empty handed.
Unfortunately, it takes a few seconds too long for your eyes to adjust to the dark.
As your foot lands on the bottom step you hear a click and then a snap, and it's the sound of it that resonates with you when you fall, screaming. The distinct crunch of bone going up against metal, the victor decidedly not your shin. You swear. You curse and cry and shout while you writhe, fingers prodding gingerly, trying to work out how to get your leg loose while your brain sabotages you with panic, flooding your body with adrenaline that makes your fingers shake.
"Fuck!"
You suck in a breath, trembling from the effort of holding it in, trying to keep it together long enough to free yourself from the fucking metal monstrosity. You're so tense you can hear your teeth click against your jaw.
Tick tick tick.
Wait.
A bell goes off.
The detonation isn't big - more of a small, controlled explosion - but it's not the heat that gets you. Metal rips through your chest; small fragments that bury into your flesh and tear another scream from you, wetter this time. The ones that miss ping against objects in the dark - glass breaking where you can't see.
Your vision blurs with tears, your fists clenching and unclenching by your sides, breath wet hisses between teeth gritting so hard you feel like your jaw might snap. When you try to move, pain shoots through your body, your clothes sticking to you. Everything hurts - a struggle just to breathe when each shaky gasp seems to shift the metal inside you.
I'm going to die here.
The thought grips you with sudden clarity. You're in the middle of fuck-all nowhere with no way to get out. Your leg caught and shattered. Your body losing blood.
I'm going to die alone.
The sobbing doesn't help, but maybe at least this way, you'll bleed out faster.
----
"I told ya it'd work." Sharp. The voice pierces through your skull about as bad as the shrapnel had. Something scuffles by close to you - the scrape of a boot on wood and a quick 'thump, thump' to follow. "Didn't I tell ya Hog? I told ya, didn't I?"
There's a long-suffering sigh, echoey and muted, like someone talking from behind their hands. Your eyes crack open, unfocused, a dull ache littering points in your skin. Beady eyes peer down at you, sickly yellow, and for a moment you're certain you're face to face with a demon. But then he grins, backs up into the light and what you thought was a head shrouded in flames is just wild hair lit up by the sun.
"Had a nice kip?"
He licks his teeth and you're struck with the image of a hungry dingo; the irradiated ones in the far south, missing patches of fur and growing far too many teeth. You try to speak, but it just comes out as a wet rasp, the taste of metal filling your mouth, sending you into a fit of coughs that wracks your body with pain. He laughs, high and delirious.
"Iiiii wouldn't do that if I were you." He says it sing-song, bouncing up onto his toes, looming over where you lay. There's soot and grease smeared over his face, and an odd smell. Almost sweet. "Took ol' Hog long enough to get ya wrapped up, but you're still fulla holes."
You don't need a demonstration, but he gives you one anyway, pressing down on the dirty bandages now wrapped across your chest - red blooming alongside the hot burn that feels like it's searing you from the inside. Your scream comes out as a broken gargle, and he giggles in response, easing off the wound. There's a snort from your other side, but you're too busy trying not to aggravate the pain to look, your fists clenched right. It's only now that you realize they're bound - unable even to find some comfort in your own touch.
"Make sure you clean up."
That muffled voice again, then heavy footsteps, and your scrawny captor gets a look in his eye that makes your gut churn.
He springs up again when the door shuts, scrambling onto the edge of the worn mattress and jostling your mangled leg, and you grit your cry behind your teeth, the vein in your neck straining with the effort of holding back.
"Please..." you manage to rasp, at last, but he's far too busy inspecting the bandages wrapped around you, picking at the edges with metal fingers. You hiss as he brushes against another wound, and his head shoots up, wild eyed and grinning.
"Y'make some pretty sounds dontcha?"
It's strange - the steadiness of those hands when he peels back the sticky cloth, carefully unraveling the layers until he gets to bare skin. He stares at the small, pink wounds like he's fascinated. Then, eyes on you, brushes a thumb over the biggest one.
Your jaw clenches and you nearly break your teeth with how hard you grit them, the rough, low shout grating up your throat filling your mouth with more metal, your hands jerking against their binds. That look in his eye clouds, and the manic grin curls into something more contemplative.
"I like it."
He licks his teeth again. You watch the front of his shorts tent with a growing horror. It takes him just one movement to land himself in your lap - and you forget the pain in favour of thrashing, panic overriding self preservation. But with one leg useless and your hands struggling against the rough rope, you don't have much in the way of leverage.
He might look lanky - but there's dense muscle there that ripples when he curls over you, and he weighs enough to keep your hips from bucking him off. That cold seeping dread has your breath coming in short, shallow huffs, your eyes flicking about the room, instinct looking for a way out. He skims his hands up your sides. You close your eyes and wonder how long it'll take for you to die.
"Gotta get the scrap out." Your eyes shoot open. He's grinning, a finger poised over one of the bloody holes in your skin. "Get ya fixed up."
He presses his finger down and in, and for a moment your vision goes black. When you come to, you're already screaming, the feeling in your hands lost to the way the rope cuts into your wrists as you pull - nothing compared to the excruciating pain of him scratching his way down to the shard of metal buried in your gut. When he finally pulls it out, blood pools over the surface of your belly, forming thin rivulets that run down and drip over your side.
"Got one."
You're lightheaded, face wet with tears, and teeth stained red from the screaming - but he just continues with that thin, reedy laughter, flicking the metal off to the side. His palms smear the blood across your belly and up over your chest, and he drinks in the sight of his work like a painter inspecting his life's work. There's a noise in his throat, and he leans forward - putting his weight on your injuries, the jut of his cock clear as your blood soaks through his clothes - and he swipes his bloody finger across your nose.
"Y'know mate..." The sound of his voice is growing muted as your brain struggles to process through the constant pendulum of agony. Your wounds throb when he rubs his hands over them, but you can't even manage a whimper at this point. His breath is hot and sour over your face. "I really think red's your colour."
#ugh sorry#this isn't great#i've had a very bad day and am struggling to catch up#grimwatch kinktober#kinktober 2018#blood play#gore#wound tampering#gn reader#mod hex#junkrat
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I was sitting in my room eating a slice of pizza when all of a sudden…
Fandom: Sanders Sides
Word Count: 5207
Warnings: Deceit, Near Death (nobody dies I’m not that mean lol), Falling, Kidnapping, Snakes, and uh I think that’s it
Who are you?! What is this?!: Hi! So this was a creative writing prompt for school and I just thought ‘hmmm, i’m new to tumblr what do I post to show what I can do...how about this one!’ I hope that this was the correct story to choose to introduce myself! <3 I’m kind of on a creative block right now, however, I’ll still post stories I have written in the past before. Hope you enjoy!
I was sitting in my room eating a slice of pizza when all of a sudden, a dizzy feeling hit me. It was slight a first, and I continued on eating, but soon it was full on nausea. I dropped the slice on my plate and put down my pencil as I gripped my forehead. I watched my pencil roll off my table and slowly travel across the floor of my bedroom. As it traveled, a figure entered my peripheral vision, and I quickly glanced upward as I felt myself fall to the floor. The figure smirked and waved at me as everything went dark.
"Patton, could you pass me a napkin?"
"Sure thing, kiddo!"
It was about 6:30 pm, and me, Virgil, and Patton were eating dinner. On the table were plates upon plates of pizza, garlic knots, and breadsticks. Usually, I did not partake in such unhealthy meals, but Patton had convinced me to join him and Virgil after we finished our most recent video. Roman had declined and traveled to his bedroom.
You see, me, Virgil, Patton, and Roman are not human. We are aspects of one human; Thomas Sanders. I am Logan; Thomas' logical side. I usually am the one who makes sure Thomas is up to date with information, and I keep him on task. Patton is Thomas' morality; he helps Thomas make the best choices in life, and he also is the Thomas' heart. He encompasses' all of Thomas' feelings. Roman is Thomas' creativity; he gives Thomas' new ideas on videos to make. He also is Thomas' self-esteem, and he frequently helps Thomas out with romance. Then there is Virgil; Thomas' anxiety, the fight-or-flight reflex. There is more of us, but I'd prefer not to mention them. Especially...
Anyway, all of us make up Thomas Sanders; famous Youtube and Vine star. After Vine 'died' (as Virgil said, but it doesn't make sense since a phone app cannot physically die), Thomas moved onto Youtube, where he compiled a following of approximately 2,800,000 subscribers. After that, he introduced us in a series called "Sanders Sides" (per Roman), and his channel grew from there.
"I wish Roman ate with us more often! He's been so stressed out recently with all of the videos we’ve been doing..." Patton mumbled, pouring me another glass of water.
"That prep needs a rest," Virgil said as he picked at his pizza with a fork, "He's going to break soon if he doesn't stop."
"I agree. Perhaps we should check on him?" I asked. Normally, I wouldn't have tried to encourage such a task, but recently I had seen Roman's mental state deteriorating. He seemed more tired, his smiles seemed faker, and he lied much more often. He tried to pretend he wasn't, but it was very obvious.
Patton gasped, "We should! Oh, I feel bad for the poor kiddo! He has seemed so sad!" He leaped out of his seat and quickly started towards Roman's room. Virgil and I stood up and fled after him.
"Roman? Kiddo?"
Once Virgil and I got to Roman's room, Patton was already there, knocking on his door, "We just came to check on you! Hello?"
"Is he not responding?" I asked, walking up beside him. I cringed looking at Roman door. Ugh, so many Disney stickers. Who even needs that many?
"Yo, Romano! Open the door!" Virgil exclaimed, walking on the other side of Patton.
Nothing.
"That's... strange," I said, "Normally, he would have opened the door by now."
“This so isn’t fun to watch.”
The three of us jumped, and turned, “Deceit.”
“Oh, you know my name. Such an accomplishment.” He said, walking up to us. In the words of Roman, Deceit is a “snake.” He represents the part of Thomas that lies; he makes Thomas lie to himself. He first appeared in the “Sander Sides” series when he pretended to be Patton for the whole episode, and I feel ashamed to admit I didn’t realize it until the very end.
“What are you doing here?” Virgil snarled, his eyes glaring.
“I’m simply strolling by. Is there a problem?” Deceit said with a sly smirk as he leaned up against the wall.
“What did you do?!”
“Tisk tisk, Virgil, don’t always expect me to do something wrong. I’m not all bad.” Deceit said. Of course, that’s a lie; everything he says is a lie. I don’t even think he is physically unable to lie. I sighed, ignoring him. I quickly summoned a hair clip and put it into the keyhole. After a few moments, the lock clicked and the door swung open.
“When the heck did you learn how to pick a lock?” Virgil asked in wonder as I made my way into Roman’s bedroom; nobody.
“It seems like Roman is not here. This is odd…” I mused as I walked further into Roman’s room. I spotted the slice of pizza he took before he left for his room on his desk. I also saw a pencil in the middle of the floor. Patton, Virgil, and Deceit were still talking behind me, but I ignored them. Perhaps Roman is in the dreamscape, where all of Thomas’ dream take place? No, it’s only 7:00 pm, Thomas would not be in bed by now… Maybe he is with Thomas right now?
“What did you do with Roman?!” I turned around at the sudden shout to see Virgil pinning Deceit up against the hallway wall. Patton looked conflicted on what he should do.
“W-We can solve this without violence, kiddos!” Patton stuttered.
“What do you mean, ‘What did you do with Roman’? What did he say?” I asked, walking up to the two of them. Virgil turned to me.
“This disgusting piece of trash told me, ‘Oh, I didn’t do anything with Roman.’” He said with a grimace, and my eyes widened.
“I didn’t say that.” Deceit said, and I’m pretty sure Virgil would have punched him in the face if Patton hadn’t taken hold of Virgil’s hand. “Don’t be so aggressive, Virgil,” Deceit smirked, “I won’t tell you anything.”
Virgil glared, “Spit it.”
“I’m not the part of Thomas that makes him lie to himself. I’m not the one who lies to him and gives him negative thoughts. I don’t give Roman negative thoughts since he is not Thomas’ self-esteem. I didn’t decide to get rid of him altogether.” Patton gasped and Virgil strengthened his grip on Deceit, “What did you do to him?!”
“I didn’t trap him in the dreamscape.” Immediately, Patton and Virgil started running towards the direction of the dreamscape, and I blinked. As I started running after the two of them, I swear I heard a voice behind me say, “Bad luck.”
Usually, during the day, the dreamscape was empty. When Thomas is not currently dreaming, the dreamscape is simply an empty white void. However, once the three of us got there, it wasn’t an empty void. Instead, it was a lush forest; the latticework of branches creating a myriad of shadows on the leafy forest floor. A large castle loomed in the distance atop a dark hill. On one of the plethora of trees, a note was attached; ‘I didn’t tell Thomas to retire for the night early. You don’t have until the morning.’
“We have to save Roman in a world that looks it came out of a Disney movie with a cliche conflict that looks like it came out of a Disney movie. Great.” Virgil grumbled as he started along the gravel path that paved a section of the forest floor. Patton and I followed after him.
“How did Deceit even take Roman?” I asked after a while of silence (and the occasional, “Roman? Kiddo? Where are you?” from Patton) and the others looked at me. Suddenly, Patton gasped.
“What if it was the pizza?!” He worrying exclaimed, and I was tempted to roll my eyes before I stopped to think about it.
“It could be possible that Deceit somehow poisoned or drugged it,” I said, and Patton gasped, but Virgil just rolled his eyes.
“Seriously? How would he even do that?”
“He could have sprinkled some crushed up Flunitrazepam, an intermediate-acting benzodiazepine, onto his pizza, which may have caused him to grow weak and unable to move. You may also know Flunitrazepam as C16H12FN3O3, or the better-known slang term, ‘roofie’.”
“No!!” Patton said, covering his mouth.
“Stop scaring Patton!” Virgil said to me, and I raised an eyebrow. “I was simply supplying the information you asked for. Is there a problem?” I asked, and Virgil sighed, not saying anything. After a moment, he spoke,
“Even though Roman is a dramatic jerk, I still hope he’s okay.” Patton and I’s eyes widened in surprise. Normally, Virgil never said things like that, especially about Roman. Virgil turned around and glared, “Don’t you ever tell him I said that.” “Wouldn’t dream of it, kiddo!” Patton said happily, skipping ahead. After a while of us walking, I was starting to think nothing was going to happen, but then we came upon a chest of sorts.
“Oh! A box!” Patton exclaimed happily, running over to it. I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose.
“Wait! Don’t open it!” Virgil said, and the two of us made our way beside Patton. I took a better look at the chest and it looked like it needed a key.
“Seriously? We need to find a key? Where the heck will we find a key? Oh, let me guess, it’ll be on top of a magical rainbow guarded by unicorns-!” Virgil spoke, but before he could finish, I had already picked the lock and opened the chest. Virgil sighed and Patton jumped excitedly as we all looked to see a… bottle?
I confusedly took the bottle out of the crate and held it in my hands. It was clear, and inside was a blue liquid I could not identify. On the side of the bottle was the words ‘DRINK ME’ in bold letters.
“Seriously? Now we’re in Alice in Wonderland?” Virgil said as I took the cork out of the top. The liquid smelled strangely similar to blueberries.
“...Should we drink it?” Patton asked.
“No!”
“Yes!”
Virgil and I looked at one another and he glared, “We’re not drinking it. It could be a trap.” He snatched the bottle out of my hands and put the cork back on the top, “How could you possibly think we should drink it?”
“It says ‘DRINK ME’ on it. Plus, we don’t know if it is a trap. It could possibly be something that could help us.”
“Why the heck would Deceit leave something to help us?”
“It could be that he assumed us to think it was a trap, so he assumed we would not drink it. For that reason, he could have made this drink good.”
“But Logan, we don’t know that!”
“Well, I think we should at least try it.”
“What if it’s a trick, and it does nothing?”
Virgil and I turned to look at Patton, “That… is actually a good suggestion, Patton. Thank you.”
Patton laughed, “No problem, kiddo! I just think we shouldn’t get worked up over it. Now come on, let’s go!” Then, he started skipping down the path, and Virgil and I followed.
“Ugh, how long have we been walking? We found that bottle like, ten hours ago!”
“It was two hours, forty-three minutes, and-”
“I didn’t mean it literally.”
“Oops. My apologies.”
“Roman?! Kiddo? Where are you?!”
By this point in our journey, I was growing tired, Virgil was beginning to become more stressed, and Patton was getting more anxious by the minute. There was still no sign of Roman anywhere, and we hadn’t even gotten to any major obstacles yet (besides a spider web which I quickly got rid of). Like before, I was starting to think nothing was going to happen.
That was until we heard a roar.
“What was that?” Virgil asked, and we all spun around, trying to find where the sound came from. I thought I would be able to recognize the sound, but unfortunately, I was unable to. I continued to glance around, trying to find the sound, when my eyes landed on the castle.
“U-Uh..” Patton and Virgil followed my gaze and their jaws dropped. There, perched on the topmost tower of the castle sat a dragon. A dragon. It’s purple scales glistened in the faint moonlight, it’s claws holding onto the tower in between its bricks. It’s glowing green eyes glanced around the forest, it’s wings adjusting to its position, trying to keep itself upright. The dragon also had a purple ‘witches’ hat on its head. After a moment more of the dragon looking around, it tilted its head, and it a flash, it was gone.
The three of us stood, shocked for a moment.
“Welp, that’s it, I’m done. Roman can save himself.”
“Virgil, no!” Patton grabbed Virgil’s arm before he could turn and walk away. I still stared at the castle, my mind reeling.
“Dragon witch...”
“What?” Patton and Virgil turned to me.
“It’s a dragon-witch. Roman spoke of it once before,” I looked at them, “It’s a combination of a dragon and a witch, to my understanding.” I sighed, looking at the castle again.
“And I think it’s guarding the castle.”
It was silent for another moment, “No!”
Virgil and I jumped, looking at Patton, “No! We’re not giving up! Just because some mean dragon is here doesn’t mean I’ll stop fighting! We’ll get Roman back! Now, come on!” Patton started forward again, and Virgil and I followed. There is no stopping Patton when he is determined.
The gravel and dirt shifted under our feet as we continued forward. It was nearing midnight, and I have to admit I was growing tired.
“Should we rest?” I asked the group.
“No. We need to get the Roman as fast as possible.”
“But, Virgil-” Before I could continue, we suddenly heard a… hissing? Suddenly, before we could react, a snake jumped from out of a bush near us, and Virgil barley missed being bitten. I immediately recognized it as a king cobra, the world's longest venomous snake. My eyes widened, and I took a step back. I spun around again as I heard more hissing behind me. We were surrounded.
“W-What do we do?!” Patton asked frantically.
“I-I am unsure. King cobras normally aren’t so aggressive.” Suddenly, one of the cobras started at us. Slowly, at first, but then it leaped right at me. I knew I didn’t have time to move, and I suddenly knew that would be the death of me. I’d die being bitten by a snake, and Thomas would never be logical ever again. I thought when people said your life flashed before your eyes, they were lying, but at the moment, all of my past memories flashed back to me. Of when I was first formed in Thomas’ mind, when Thomas graduated high school when Virgil first told us his name. I shut my eyes, and I heard Patton’s scream-
What?
I slowed opened my eyes when I realized I was, in fact, not dead and very much alive. I spotted Virgil in front of me, and in his hand was the uncorked bottle filled with the blue liquid. About a third of it was gone, and on the ground was a dead king cobra covered in blue. The other snakes quickly scurried off, seemingly afraid. I realized then that, whatever was in the bottle, was some kind of snake repellent. Virgil turned around to me, “Are you okay?”
“I-I’m s-satisfactory…” I said, still shocked by what happened. Patton seemed shocked as well, not having moved yet. Virgil nodded and turned around, and he continued walking.
“Why would Deceit give us a snake repellent?” I wondered, catching up to him.
Virgil shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. Stupid move if you ask me.”
“Maybe he was hoping we would drink it and die...” Patton mumbled. We were all silent for a moment,
“Now, should we rest?”
“I still think it’s a bad idea.”
“I don’t think we’ll even be able too…” Virgil and I tilted our heads and looked to where Patton was.
We had reached the castle.
The huge, wooden doors for the entrance looked old, the lock on them broken and nearly falling off. The grey bricks making up the castle held a multitude of scratches, and the tall towers at the top of the castle looked destroyed. I took a deep breath, and I opened the castle doors. It was a lot… quieter, then I was expecting. My footsteps echoed throughout the castle as I looked around. We seemed to be in some kind of lobby area, a staircase going off in two directions on the back wall and long hallways on the sides walls.
“You know, I was kind of expecting there to be a big dragon in here or something,” Virgil said, and I nodded my head, agreeing.
“Should we split up?” Patton asked, and before I could say anything, Virgil shook his head.
“No. People who split up in horror movies always die. We have to stick together.” I found that reasoning quite silly, however, he still made a good point.
“I agree. We should explore the first floor first.” I said, and the other two nodded. The three of us turned to the left and traveled into the long hallway. When we got to the end of the hallway, we found ourselves in what looked liked to be a dining room. There was a long table, with maybe thirty or forty chairs, and on the back wall, there was a door with the word, “KITCHEN” on it. I suddenly had an idea and I quicked headed into the kitchen. When I entered, I saw the old pots and pans on an old probably not sturdy shelf. I saw some knives in a holder and I collected three. I turned around to see Virgil and Patton in front of me and I held out two knives to them, “Weapons. Even though the obstacles that we have faced up to the point have been absolutely ridiculous, that doesn’t mean Deceit is stupid. We need to be ready just in case something happens, and we also need to be wary of that dragon. There is probably an armory in here somewhere, but for the time being, take these.”
“Wow. Okay.” Virgil and Patton took the knives and we headed out of the kitchen and dining room.
I assumed correctly in thinking there would be an armory, so the three of us collected swords (for some reason there was no armor and exactly three swords). We explored the whole castle, and by the time we were in the last room, it was nearing 4 AM. I remembered Thomas told us that for the week he was going to wake up early to get more work done, so we only had around one hour left.
“Please be here, Roman…” Patton said under his breath as he opened the door.
And there he was.
“ROMAN!”
Roman spun around from inside of the locked cage he was in and his face brightened, “Oh thank goodness, you found me! Why did it take you three so long?”
“Wow, we save your life, and you’re asking why it took us so long. Thanks, Princey, We really appreciate the sentiment!” Virgil grumbled, but I could tell he was thankful we found him. I quickly rushed over to the cage and summoned another hairclip and I started to pick the lock.
“Wow, I didn’t know you could pick locks,” Roman said.
“How did you get captured?” I asked, ignoring what he said (I didn’t even know I could summon things until a few weeks ago, but here we are).
“Ugh, it was dreadful, I have to tell you!” Roman said as I opened the cell door and he stepped out, “That snake snuck into my bedroom and did something to my pizza! Pizza! Who would even do such a thing? Anyway, I collapsed and he brought me here. It’s so boring up here! I only have one window, and I can’t even open it! All I can do is look at these cell bars! It’s the worst! Anyway, how did you three find me?”
“Well, Logan nearly died, but overall it was pretty boring.”
“He what?”
I sighed, “What happened was the three of noticed your usual absence at dinner, so we went to your room. Deceit was there, and he told us he trapped you there. When we got there, we found a bottle that had the words, “DRINK ME” on it. Later, we encountered some venomous snakes, and one nearly bit me. Thankfully, Virgil threw some of the liquid from the bottle on it and it died, causing the others to scatter. We got to the castle, and then we found you.”
“Oh, that makes sense!”
Patton suddenly perked up, “Oh, Logan forget to tell you that we saw this really scary drago-”
RRRRRROOOOOAAAAARRRRR!!!!!
“What was that?!” Roman frantically asked, and suddenly the roof of the room crashed down on us. We all ducked, and thankfully nothing hit us. After the roof fell, we all looked up. Now, I forgot to mention earlier that the room we were in was actually at the top of the castle in one of the towers. The very top. So, that’s how the dragon-witch flew down and tore the roof right off. It started back down at us, and we screamed. Patton, Virgil and I held up our swords while Roman cowered behind us, him not having his.
“RUN!” Virgil screamed, and Roman did not hesitate to run to the door and head down the stairs of the tower. The three of us started to run after him, but before we could, the dragon-witch flew in front of us, making us unable to leave. All of us didn’t really know what to do. Roman was the only one out of all of us who could fight with a sword, and we had just told him to flee.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Virgil asked, and at that moment I couldn’t help but agree with him. Suddenly, Virgil's eyes widened, and he spun around and faced the window. I had completely forgotten about it. I followed him and we managed to bust the window open with our swords. We looked out of it, and we knew that if we jumped we would instantly die if we hit the bottom.
“HEY!” Virgil and I turned around and we gasped. Patton was still staring up at the dragon, his sword still tightly grasped in his hand, “I won’t let you hurt my family! If you try, you’ll have to get through me first!”
“Patton, no!” Virgil shouted, but Patton didn’t listen. The dragon witch looked down at him and stared for a moment.
Then, it attacked.
It swung its claw, and Patton managed to get away with only a small cut on his cheek. Instead, it’s claw swung and hit the wall, destroying the side of the tower. Patton quickly lunged forward again, and he stabbed it in the stomach. The dragon witch screamed and Patton dropped his sword and ran towards us. The dragon witch swung again, taking a step forward, and Virgil managed to nick it’s claw slightly. I looked around the dragon and I saw there was enough room for us to get to the door. Virgil and Patton noticed too, and we all made a run for it. Virgil and Patton raced through the door, and I ran after them-
But then the door slammed shut before I could get through.
I immediately panicked and pulled at the doorknob, but I couldn’t open the door. My eyes widened and I spun around. The dragon witch was staring at me, looking ready to attack.
“Having fun, Logan?”
I glanced behind the dragon-witch and see Deceit, casually sitting on the broken wall. I realized he must have been the one to shut the door; I don’t know how, but he did.
“Let me go, Deceit.” I snapped at him, and the dragon-witch growled. I took a step back, and I bumped against the door.
“Sure.” He said, and he hopped down from the wall and strode over to me. He smirked, and he raised up his hand. The dragon witch growled again, and I then realized that he must have control over it. I looked back at him.
“Deceit, please let me go. We can resolve this if you just opened the door and let me leave.” I said, trying to convince him, but to no avail. I thought I may have heard faint yelling of my name, but I couldn’t tell with how loudly I was breathing.
Deceit laughed, “I’ll totally let you go, Logan.” Then, he walked past me, and with the flick of his hand, the door opened. I stared for a moment, This has to be a trap. Deceit only lies.
“Come on, Logan. The door is open. Just walk through.” He said, and I stood for a moment before walking to the door.
I felt a force pushing into my side, and I felt myself fly for a moment.
A-Am I falling?
I blinked, and I saw the top of the tower slowly become farther and farther away.
Yes, I am indeed falling.
I wasn’t too surprised, really. Deceit always lied, and there was a big gap in the wall just a few feet away from me. I should have known I would have been pushed off. The situation felt sort of familiar, very much like when the king cobra almost bit me. This time, however, I had a few seconds before impact. Time seemed slow, one second felt like an hour. I tried to think of something to do, but I knew I couldn’t do anything. I could summon a hair clip, but barely, so I wouldn’t be able to do anything bigger than that. Roman could of since he is creativity, but he probably was too weak. I was done for. I heard screaming under me, probably the others. I knew I’d miss them. I shut my eyes, and suddenly, I saw a flash of bright white light.
After a moment, I opened my eyes. A-Am I dead?
“OH MY GOSH, LOGAN!”
I saw three figures above me. I couldn’t really tell since my vision was quite blurred. Wait… Roman? Patton? Virgil?
It suddenly came to me, and if I was standing, I would have stumbled back from the realization: Thomas woke up.
When Thomas woke up, the whole dreamscape reset, and our positions did, too.
“Oh my goodness, Logan! Are you okay!? Please tell me you’re okay!!”
“W-What?”
“Oh thank goodness!” I slowly sat up, Virgil and Roman helping me. I vision finally cleared, and I could see the three of them clearly. They all looked terrified.
“Heavens, Logan, you nearly died! It was horrible!” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil glared.
“I think he knew that, Sir-Sing-A-Lot.” Virgil spat.
“I’m satisfactory, ” I said, standing up. I was still in quite a state of shock, so I didn’t bother to say anything further. I turned my head, and I saw the door to exit the dreamscape. Deceit was nowhere in sight (I didn’t know if I should be thankful or not at this fact). Patton saw where I was looking, “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get going.”
“You feeling any better?” Patton asked, and I took another sip of my water. We were back at the dining table, the food long since becoming cold. Once we exited the dreamscape, Virgil sunk down to tell Thomas what happened and the three of us went back to the common room.
“I’m fine,” I said as Virgil rose back up.
“What did Thomas say?” Roman asked.
“To say the least, he kind of freaked out. Because we were in the dreamscape, Thomas saw everything that happened. He told me that his dream ended right as Logan fell. I told him you and Logan were okay. He wants to talk to us all later.”
“Okay. I feel so bad for him! He must have felt so powerless!” Patton exclaimed, and the rest of us nodded, Virgil taking a seat at the table.
I turned to Roman, “How are you doing?” Roman blinked in surprise, slightly shocked to be addressed.
“I’m fine, nerd! I’m not hurt! Don’t worry about me.” He said, smiling. I suddenly remembered what Deceit told us before we went to the dreamscape; “I don’t give Roman negative thoughts since he is not Thomas’ self-esteem.”
“Roman, are you okay?” I asked, and Roman snorted.
“I just said that I was!”
“No. Tell me honestly. Are you okay? Because Deceit told us earlier that he gives you negative thoughts.” I knew I had struck some kind of nerve since Roman flinched and looked down. I could tell by Virgil and Patton’s that they remembered what Deceit had said.
“I-I..” Roman stuttered, and he finally sighed, “No. No, I’m not.” The three of us waited for him to continue. He sighed again.
“Once we started making videos for “Sander Sides,” we had to do a lot more work. I had to plan out things for us to say, I had to help Thomas design props and filming a video every month or two is draining. I was feeling really bad about myself, and once Deceit came along, it just got worse. It was harder to pretend to be happy, and I even considered ducking out a few times like Virgil did when he thought we didn’t need him anymore. I really thought about just not being creativity and self-esteem anymore, because if I left,” He laughed, “Well, what difference would it have made?”
I nearly screamed when Patton leaped across the table and tackled Roman in a hug, sending them both to the floor, “Oh my goodness, kiddo! I never knew! I’m sorry I never noticed! We love you so much!!” Virgil and I stood up and we walked over to the two of them once we stood up.
“Yes, Roman. Even if it doesn’t seem like it, we care. We think your ideas are amazing, and you do so much for Thomas.” Roman smiled a real smile for what looked like the first time in ages and he looked and Virgil.
He sighed, “You’re good… I guess.” Roman shrugged.
“Well, that’s the best I’ll get.” He looked at all of us, “Thank you. It means so much to hear that.”
After that, we all finally went to bed. The next day, we talked to Thomas about what happened and made sure to cut down on the work for Roman's sake. Once we got to the mindscape, we saw Deceit again, and we tried to talk to him. He didn’t listen, but Patton said he would come around sometime. That’s where we are now, really. We’re all doing better, we’ve all recovered from the incident, and as cliche as it sounds….
We are happy, and for now, that’s the only thing that matters.
#sanders sides#fanfiction#virgil sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#roman sanders#deceit sanders#fantasy#dragon witch
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