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erenscoochdestroyerfics · 11 months ago

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Eren x Armin x Reader Friday Night Strip Poker (1)

words: 3.1k

concept: your good friends Eren and Armin are tight as thieves, and one night as you play strip poker, some tension arises and is resolved with another type of group activity...

contains: oral (f/m receiving), slightly sub!armin, slightly dom!eren, slightly domineering reader, threesome (MMF), cucking

y/n uses she/her pronouns and has female anatomy!

artwork does not belong to me, so creds to the artists!

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"You know, you look really nice in that new shirt." Eren smirks.

You are taken aback by Eren's forwardness. You, him, Armin, and Mikasa had shopped in Shiganshina Center yesterday, and you had gotten the shirt from a little boutique. It was a little black ribbed top with grey stitching. I might just have to fuck you right here, Mikasa had said when you stepped out of the dressing room, eliciting hearty laughs from Eren and Armin, and a flustered chuckle from you. There was always a little bit of homoeroticism between you and Mikasa, which is something you decided to put on the back burner when you noticed it a couple weeks before. Besides, she was in a relationship.

It was Friday, and tonight, it was date night for Mikasa and Annie, leaving you, Eren, and Armin to hang out at Eren's apartment in downtown Shiganshina. It was a perfect summer evening; the smell of food floated through Eren's open window from the restaurant below, and the bustle of the street below was faintly audible.

You guys decided to have a game night with some karaoke, and were currently playing Eren's favorite card game, Egyptian Rat-screw, which with these two stubborn boys, gets violent.

A queen of hearts was dealt, then a three of spades, then another queen.

"SANDWICH!" You all yell in unison, slamming your cards down onto the pile. Of course, Eren's card landed first. His fast reflexes were hard to compete with for you and Armin.

"Damn you, Eren!" you yell, and the three of you fall into a heap of laughter.

"More drinks?" Eren offers.

"Such a good host." You tease.

You and Armin sit cross legged watching Eren as he pads across the floor and into the kitchen to pour three glasses of piña colada mixer and add a generous amount of liquor to each.

"Thank you," Armin smiles sweetly as Eren hands him the drink. "My god Eren, bleh." Armin crinkles his nose as he tastes Eren's concoction.

You and Eren laugh softly.

---

Twenty minutes later, the three of you are tipsy messes, with flushed cheeks and easily elicited laughs. There is a warmth in your stomach that usually comes with drinking, which always results in you being a little too flirtatious for your own good. And you had an idea.

"You know what we should play?" You giggle.

"What?" Eren and Armin perk up.

"Strip poker!" You announce, giving jazz hands to accompany your grand idea.

Armin crinkles his nose. "I don't know if thats a good-"

"YES," Eren interrupts, "now THAT sounds like fun!"

"Eren," Armin quickly glances to you before looking back to him, "are you sure this is a good idea-"

"PLEASE pleasepleasepleasepleas-" you playfully beg.

"Yeah, c'mon Arm', it'll be fun." Eren reasons.

"Okay, okay," Armin raises his hands in defeat. "Every time you lose a hand, something comes off, deal?"

"Deal!" You and Eren agree in unison.

You lose the first hand. And the next. Armin loses three in a row, taking off his socks and shirt. Eren loses four, stripping to only his boxers.

The thing is that it was summer, and you had worn sandals to the hangout. You didn't have two buffer losses to be used on your socks, so you were in your bra and underwear. You wish you had worn cuter underwear, but your bralette made your tits look amazing, which you reasoned made up for it.

What you don't notice at that moment is Eren and Armin's frantic exchanged glances, as Armin wiggled around trying to prevent his cock from hardening. He was lucky he still had his pants on, or it would be clear as day.

It could have been the way you were cutely sitting with your legs folded under you and your hands in your lap, accentuating your figure. Or, it could be related to the fact that Armin had harbored a crush on you for years, starting in high school and lasting through college.

All that mattered at that moment, though, was the curve of your supple thighs that Armin and Eren could practically taste, and the upward inflection of your voice when you laughed, which they both had only dreamed of hearing in a less platonic context.

Armin jumped when he looked up from his rearranging of his pants to see you staring right at him.

"Shit, you startled me," his voice grew small.

Your eyes flitted up and down his figure before a huge smile of realization creeped its way onto your face; he was getting hard!

"Armin..." you cooed, voice low and sensual; "are you..." your eyes locked onto his bulge.

"Ummmmm, uh," He stammered. "I'm... I'm sorry." He looked down.

"Don't be," You felt a familiar tingle between your legs. Whether it was flattery or plain old arousal you didn't know, but this intrigued you. More than that- you liked that he was getting hard just by seeing you in your underwear. You wanted him to be all flustered and sensitive by just looking at you; It excited you. Your next thought came bubbling up out of your subconscious like an instinct, and you immediately knew what you had to do next.

You scooted closer to him. "Armin, can I...can I see it?"

How could he resist such a polite request from such a pretty girl?

"What? Um, uh," Armin's face was beet red, and the blush was creeping down his chest. "Uh, like, d'you mean, it it?"

"Your dick." You said plainly, smiling with anticipation.

Eren looked on in entertained awe, not just at the situation, but your sudden boldness. "C'mon Armin, let's see it."

"Uhm," Armin smiled nervously. "Okay, I- I guess," He slipped his pants over his hips and his cock sprang upwards, pulling the fabric of his underwear taut. You smiled wider. He pulled them all the way off and discarded them to the side.

All of that just from seeing you? Your heart swelled with pride. You needed more.

"Can I come closer?" You earnestly awaited a response.

"Uh-" Armin glanced at Eren, before hesitantly nodding. "Mhm".

You crawled the remainder of the distance to him, keeping your eyes locked on his. Once you were in front of him, you folded your legs underneath you and looked at the bulge beneath his underwear. Not many details were visible under the fabric, but one thing was clear: he was big.

"Such a pretty cock," You muttered under your breath.

"Oh fuck," he exhaled; his dick twitching in response to your compliment.

So that's what he was in to. In hindsight, it made total sense.

You laughed sweetly. "So you're into praise, hm?"

Armin was taken aback at how quickly you figured him out, and his blush grew even deeper. "Oh, uh, I mean, I don't really kn-"

"Kiss." Eren interrupted. His voice was commanding and low- this was a side of him you hadn't seen before, but you didn't dislike it.

"Just shut up and kiss already." He cleared his throat.

Although Eren was sat about three feet away from you and Armin, his voice sounded like it was right next to you, which sent a spark of electricity to your lower stomach.

You and Armin glanced at him with surprise initially, before seeing the expression on his face. His cock was semi-hard, and his eyes were dark with lust. You looked back to Armin, whose eyes were already on your face.

You cupped his left cheek and brought your lips forward, stopping just shy of his own before closing your eyes.

A moment later, you felt him tenderly kiss your bottom lip. You reciprocated, beginning to kiss him softly. You climbed onto the edge of his lap, straddling his lower thighs, and wrapped your arms around his neck. A moment later, you felt his tongue; he was hesitant at first, but grew more confident each second that passes.

You groaned lightly.

Kissing Armin felt so fucking good; so much better than you ever would have expected. It's not like he was unattractive by any means whatsoever; in fact, he was an objectively beautiful person. You had thought about him in passing for as long as you could remember; sometimes imagining him late at night when you were alone in your room. You imagined kissing him; feeling him below you; kissing his neck; getting him hard; and making him come. But you could never let it become a full blown crush, because he was your friend. Attraction between friends is normal, you had told yourself. You just need to keep it under control. However well you managed it, you had always felt a twinge of jealously whenever he would hook up with other girls in college.

Now, you were kissing him. In real life. And it was so damn good. He kissed you like his life depended in it; like you were his one true love, and he had waited a century to taste your lips. He kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world, and it was making you dizzy.

A minute or two later, you were sat further up his thighs than before, your hands were in his hair, and your tongue was in his mouth. His hands moved from your waist to your hips to your thighs as he played with the soft flesh.

You two hear Eren groan, unable to stop himself from audibly expressing his arousal at the sight before him.

"God, you guys, that is so. fucking. hot." Eren breathes.

Armin groans; partially in response to Eren's confession, and partially in response to the fact that you had scooted further up on his lap, to the point where the tip of his dick was pressed nicely onto your clit through the fabric your guys' underwear. You rolled your hips once, pulling another noise from each of you.

It was like that for a little bit; you and Armin swallowing each others little noises as he guided your hips in their steady rotation, while Eren sat to the side, watching slack-jawed as he palmed his dick through his boxers. The little ball of white hot pleasure in your core was starting to increase in intensity with the friction of his cock pressing against you so nicely.

"Wait, we gotta stop, I'm- ah- i'mgonnacuminmypants," Armin manages to say in one breath, the end of which tended towards a whine. He stills your hips with his hands. You stayed on his lap for a second, clinging to him while you caught your breath.

"I guess it's my turn." You hear Eren propose. Always the problem solver.

"C'mere," Eren guides you up off of Armin's lap by your forearms and leads you to his bed. You feel his mattress pressing the back of your legs, and he lays you down gently. "Come sit, Armin."

Armin comes to sit on the bed next to you as Eren climbs on top of you, with his right knee in between your thighs, pressing against you. The friction on your clit as he moves around to settle sends a jolt of electricity from your sternum to in between your legs and makes your vision fuzzy.

"Ah," you moan softly at the stimulation.

"Already?' Eren laughs devilishly. "Armin, you really got her all hot and bothered, huh."

"Uh huh," Armin responds, sounding a bit dazed from the highly aroused state that your make-out session left him in.

"Can I kiss you?" Eren speaks lowly right up against your ear. You can feel the rumble of his chest as he does, sending another dose of arousal to swim around in your lower stomach.

"Please" You lament.

From the moment your lips meet, one thing is clear. Eren Jaeger is a damn good kisser. As a kisser, he is slightly more energetic than Armin, but not at all rough. He takes his time with you, licking and swallowing you up as you come undone beneath him. He makes you go cross eyed and limp with his magic tongue, and you feel close to coming un-fucking-touched.

One of his arms moves from beside your head and cups your waist, squeezing and kneading the skin. His knee between your legs presses so nicely up against your soaking cunt that you could cry. Or die. Or both. All that you know is that you could not possibly feel better than you do in this exact moment.

It is a couple seconds later that you are proven wrong.

"Can I play with your tit?" Eren breathes.

"Mhm" Your saccharine sweet voice slides like velvet past the ears and straight to the cocks of Eren Jaeger and Armin Arlert, leaving Armin groaning next to you two as he watches intently.

With his free hand, Eren cups your tit, massaging it and swiping his finger over your hard nipple through the thin fabric of your bralette. The sensation has you squirming and writhing beneath him, as he dips down to kiss your neck. He kisses down your neck, to your chest. Then your navel, to your belly button, to your lower stomach, before stopping.

"Can I go down on you?" Eren almost whines, his voice heavy with arousal.

"Oh god yes, please." You feel like you will explode if you are not touched soon.

"Armin, kiss her and play with her tit, hm?" Eren positions himself right in front of your pussy, placing your thighs on his shoulders. He presses his nose to the wet spot on the fabric of your underwear and inhales, before groaning and releasing a string of curses under his breath. God, you smell so fucking good, he whispers before beginning to practically make out with your throbbing cunt through your underwear.

"Oh- my- god!" You moan loudly in response to Eren hungrily licking at you. You vaguely sense Armin lean over you to kiss you, more sloppily now than before, as one of his hands snakes underneath your bra to play with your nipple.

"Let's get these off, hm?" You hear Eren say. You lift your hips in response as he slides the lime green underwear down your legs.

Armin's relentless swiping of your nipple has you dripping, and his lips on yours are making a wet, sloppy kissing noise. Which sends electricity straight to Eren's dick.

Eren runs his hands up your calf and pushes your leg up and out, kissing the crook of your knee as he does so. He squeezes the flesh of your thigh for a second, slowly making his way higher, before settling into the same position he was in before, with your legs over his shoulders and his face sitting pretty between your thighs. Armin had stopped kissing you to begin licking at your right nipple, while continuing to palm the left, giving you a clear view of Eren as he gazed at your cunt, slack jawed and breathing heavy.

Me mumbled something under his breath that you couldn't quite make out, something involving pretty and god and so fucking wet. He rested his head onto your left thigh like a pillow, while reaching out with his free hand to brush his fingers along the length of your outer labia. There was stubble, since you hadn't shaved since a couple of days prior, which heightened your sensitivity to the dragging of his fingers.

You were a moaning mess at this point; Armin's relentless stimulation of your nipples and Eren's teasing right next to where you needed him most had you choking back sobs of desperation.

"Eren, please!" You whined. You needed him to touch you and you needed it now.

You heard him chuckle and were about to reiterate before feeling him lick up through your folds, starting below your entrance and landing on top of your clit.

"You're so fucking wet," he mumbled, before beginning to lick at your clit. And it felt so indescribably amazing. You felt like you were on top of the world. On top of the universe even; you felt so good and full of white hot pleasure that you would burst if you didn't start to give some of it back. So thats what you did.

With your left hand buried in Eren's hair, your right was free to give some release to the trembling blonde boy hovering over your chest who was groaning at this point. You snaked your hand in between your bodies and down his torso until you felt him, rock fucking hard, beneath your palm.

As your hand made contact with the head of his cock he gasped, shock reverberating through his whole body. This was such a strong reaction from the smallest of touches. Seeing hearing and feeling how badly he needed you had you visibly smiling.

You began to sloppily jerk him off, and he was a blubbering mess, completely unable to do anything other than fuck himself sloppily into your hand.

Eren seemed to take notice of the blonde's reaction, quickening his tongues pace. You felt the tip of his middle finger dip into you shallowly, teasing for a moment, before going deeper. Once his knuckles were flush with your hips, he began tapping the sensitive place on your upper walls. White hot pleasure flooded your veins. This was so much better than when you did it yourself- he could reach deeper than you could, and was hitting the spot so perfectly that you knew you wouldn't last for more than a minute like this.

Everything became too much- the color in the room increased in saturation, the cacophony of sound around you- from the two boys, Eren's AC, and the street outside- became a symphony. The heat in your core climbed and climbed until it reached its peak.

You cried out in ecstasy as you came, with Eren groaning into the space between your thighs in response the sweet sound of your moans, and Armin letting some whines out as well.

You felt Armin tense up and come as well from the increased stimulation from your shifting around.

Fat tears rolled down your cheeks and your legs and torso spasmed as you rode out the high- with the help of Eren, who never faltered. As the waves of pleasure began to grow less intense and further apart, Eren dipped his head up to look at your face. He looked so pretty like that, with messy hair and his mouth and nose covered in your release.

He laughed, surprised at your tear ridden cheeks. "So you're a crier huh? Or was it just that good?"

"I don't usually cry," you lament, out of breath.

Eren smiled to himself at your indirect compliment.

You turned your head to look at Armin, who had slumped down onto your shoulder.

"Was that good, Armin?" You lightly patted the top of his head.

"M-hm." He nodded lightly.

Eren sat back onto his calves, which revealed his still rock hard cock pulling the fabric of his boxers taut.

"We gotta do something about that, huh?" You quipped.

"We don't have to, its okay-" he began.

"I want to." You gazed at him through your eyelashes.

"She's right, Eren." Armin piped in. "Let us help you."

You and Armin shared a knowing glance, before sitting up.

"This is going to be a long night isn't it." Eren muttered darkly.

"Yes it is." You said as you climbed onto his lap, with Armin close behind you to watch.

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Note: Okay this was a little rushed towards the end, but it was getting way too long for one part, so I guess this is part one of the Eren x Armin x Reader Friday night fun one shot!!

Also the use of Arm as a nickname for Armin is so unserious but I thought it was hilarious.

Anywaysss hope u like!

#eren x reader #attack on titan #armin x reader #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #eren x armin #eren x armin x reader #eren smut #armin smut

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mistypsych · 1 year ago

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ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 8

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after not writing anything at all. Please keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty at times. Comments and thoughts are well appreciated. Don’t hesitate to ask questions, state your thoughts for me to post up and have me add you to the tag list!

Sorry it took me a while to post this chapter. It isn’t too long but I didn’t want to leave you all hanging without anything. I had a lot of things to handle - family visit threw the holidays as well as I met someone and got into a relationship - first time since a couple years. Work has also been busy so I hope you guys will forgive my absence! I will try and post more frequently now! Please comment. Your words always are motivating!

The dead toned beep of the ended phone call rang in your ears mercilessly. Taking a couple seconds to compose yourself after Yoongis brutal truth, you looked at the mirror and took in a deep, sharp breath. Shaking your head, you grabbed at the bridge of your nose. This was all getting chaotic and you did not like that fact at all.

You’ve always lead a quite composed life. Yes your work was complicated and very intense at times but outside of that you lead a peaceful life up until now. Up until you got dragged into this fucking mess by your best friend. Up until you found out your fiancé was a liar and cheater. Up until you screwed Agust-D, or should you say - it was more like he screwed you.

Walking into the hot shower you tried to get rid of all those invasive thoughts. Your brain kept playing scenes of the black eyed gangsters lips attacking all of your skin, all of those sensitive parts, all the places that mattered. Your hands wiped down your face as if trying to toss off all the images together with the water droplets. This was not going to be an easy task. Sleeping with the long haired brunette just made your already complicated situation even more messed up.

Once you were wiping your body off with the soft towel you let out yet again another frustrated sigh. Knowing you had to get out of the bathroom and face Hoseok angered you. All you wanted to do was punch him in the face and break his perfect little nose. The vision of having to keep this relationship going for the greater good and to put his ass behind bars wasn’t in any way ideal for you. But it had to be done. You knew in the long run this was they only thing that would make up for all the heartache he put you threw.

You let your still wet hair drop on your shoulders. Wrapping yourself up in a comfortable bathrobe you walked out hesitantly. The smell of freshly made breakfast, deliciously tickled your nostrils. Well at least he was good for some things - you muttered soundlessly to yourself.

Stepping in the kitchen you saw the cheater himself hovering over some pans, while humming some tune. You used to love this view, you used to watch him quietly with a big smile on your face. These gestured used to matter. Now all they did was poke a deep hole in your heart. You could not help but feel as if dead inside towards the one you thought you’d end up spending your life with.

As if on queue Hoseok turned to you with a plated meal and a sweet smile on his face.

“Sit love” he said with a hum while placing the dish on the table. You felt you stomach clench while you braved yourself to put on the best fake loving face you could. “Thanks… hun…” you said a bit hesitantly, what he picked up right away.

Sighing loudly he looked at you with sad eyes and said “Hey… I know lately it has been rough… and I work a lot… and I don’t give you the attention you deserve. But that will change soon babe, I promise…” he whispered while leaning down to kiss your temple.

It took all of your impulse control not to push away from him. Forcing yourself to take the kiss you said quietly “Yea… it has been rough…”. After your words fell, he gave you a worried look. Knowing you well he decided not to continue this topic. Instead he gave you another peck and told you to eat up while he makes coffee.

Your eyes turned to the back of his head as he brewed the caffeinated liquid. You wished you could burn a hole in his skull, purely by your gaze. Giving up on that ridiculous thought, you focused on your food. You had to eat. You had work this afternoon. You didn’t want to feel weak and tired. Work was about the only thing that still made sense in your life. All the rest seemed to be going down in flames.

Once your fiancé put a cup in front of you, you gladly grabbed at it. Keeping yourself occupied and your mouth full was the best option to avoid senseless talk. You were only willing to answer what you had planned for the day. You really didn’t want to force the conversation. Thankfully Hobi seemed to think all the tension was coming from his lack of time and his hectic work schedule. Who were you to correct him? Even if you wanted you couldn’t. You had a deal with Jimin. The vision of the cheating bastard in front of you, being set behind bars was the only thing that kept you sane.

When you finished up your meal, you decided to do the dishes. You didn’t want to seem too upset. It was a usual with the two of you. When one cooked the other took care of the dishes. The brainless action made you zone out. The bubbles on your hand felt oddly relaxing. As you were about to calm down from all the anger your felt a pair of hands wrap around your waist.

You took in a sharp breath and get tense right away. It was something you could not control. It was just a natural reaction of your body to the touch of someone who you saw as a traitor. “Are you that displeased with me?” he asked, his lips almost touching your ear. Anxiety was attacking your nerve system mercilessly. You had to swallow the big ball that formed in your throat before you spoke “It just had been very awkward between us… that’s all…”.

Shaking his head slightly he kept on hugging you “I know baby… and I wanna fix it… you know what they say… good sex can cure many arguments…” hearing those words you felt your stomach flip. The last thing you were feeling up to was going to bed with this asshole. But did you have much choice? This was your thing. You guys used to use the act of desire take over you when in disputes. You didn’t want to raise red flags and have him suspicious of your behavior. There was so much at stake.

An idea popped in your head. You could use the fact he clearly wanted to sway you, please you. This was your way to get threw this. Turning around slowly you gave him a dark smile. Your brain automatically switching to imagine someone else was standing in front of you. “Is that so? You want to fix the situation?” you asked with a deeper voice and he nodded in agreement.

“Then get on your knees and please me. Since you didn’t have time to give me attention lately… today will be all about me…” you voice was sultry and tainted with a darkness you never let out yet. Hoseok was clearly taken aback for a second, completely not expecting such a thing from you. But you were right, he did want to sway your mood. So he smiled gently while dropping down slowly to his knees.

His long fingers grabbed at your shorts and pulled them down. You closed your eyes imagining it was those digits covered in rings doing this to you. At this moment you were great full for having a good imagination. You needed it to survive this, to take pleasure from it.

When you felt the hot breath hit your core, you bit down on your lip, visioning it was the dark haired mobster in front of you. The image of Agust-D on his knees made you soaked in seconds. “God you’re getting wet…” Jung gasped, his voice distracting you a bit, so you shushed him with a “Get to it then…”.

Once you felt his tongue on your clit you almost jumped. The next movements and sucking making you almost moan Yoongis name. He was right. You would be thinking of him… fuck you were already and this was the only thing making you enjoy the moment. It didn’t take you long to jump over the edge. Biting down on your tongue you made sure to not scream the name of another.

Luckily for you, your fiancé was so out of it all and happy with himself, he believed everything between you was ok for now. The fact he had to head out to work soon, was just the cherry on top of the cake. You on the other hand had time to get ready for the afternoon and think about how Yoongi read right threw you. His words from your last phone call echoed in your brain. Shaking your head you mumbled to yourself - Stop. This needs to stop. I am just gonna use what happened to imagine things, to survive around Hoseok as long as I need to.

The little pep talk was supposed to set you straight. You decided you would never give into temptation again. You’d never jump into the arms of a gangster. You couldn’t. He was bad news. Or maybe bad news was him. It was hard to decided which of the two was correct. But the fact was - this man was danger and it was best to stir clear of him. So that is what you planned on doing.

Work was going well for you even tho you didn’t get to have the shift with your friend. But maybe that was better. That way you could focus on the job and not risk falling into discussing the whole gang situation. Your phone was silent as well. No messages from you soon to be ex. No one to bother your. No one to disturb your flow.

You were telling lucky to have a couple of light surgeries scheduled. They were just basic procedures. You did not need to think too much about what you were doing. You were great full that you enjoyed your job. That it was left undisturbed. That it could be your anchor to sanity. You could lose yourself in it. Forget about all the other chaos. Just be present in the moment. Just focus on your hand work, on what needed to be done. Nothing else mattered then and there.

The wrecked mood from the morning switched to a content and relaxed on. The evening was nice. You decided you’d take a walk home. You lived not too far away. Some exercise would do you well. Taking out your phone you thought for a moment and texted Jungkook. You wanted to check if maybe he was out drinking in some of the bars close by. You’d gladly join him then.

While walking and awaiting and answer from your coworker, your turned into one of the allies to take a shortcut. It was still not that late and usually the are was safe. All seemed to be the same this time. That was until a black SUV appeared at the other end. Stopping in your tracks you felt the flight or fight mode sweep over your body.

Clenching your hands on the purse strap you were thinking on what to do. Once the doors of the car opened, you were ready to run. But suddenly the well known gravely voice hit the air.

“Didn’t your parents teach you allies tend to be dangerous?” he chuckled a bit at his own words clearly enjoying he gave you a scare.

Your feet became heavy. It was as if the got cemented to the ground. A shiver ran over your spine. Standing there you stared as the brunet slowly made his way to you. The heels of his elegant shoes clicking over the ground. The sound bounced off the bricked walls. It all seemed just like in the movies. The hunter walking over to his helpless prey.

As he came close he tossed the end of his cigaret to the grown and blew out the last smoke your way. You felt your knees becoming weak. This guys was something else. Everything about him was screaming danger, but somehow you couldn’t move, you couldn’t run, you just stood there, your eyes glued to him.

“I told you we’d meet again Y/N… and you owe me a morning…” clearing your throat you finally spoke “Do I? I don’t recall anything about spending the mornings with you in our agreement…” the words made him leans his head back and laugh. “What a mouth you have…” he spat out and grabbed your face with his hand. Pushing down on your cheeks. His black eyes piercing right threw your soul. “I have better use for it then starting up discussions…” his voice was low and coated with something you could not put your finger on. Was it desire?

The next thing you knew, you were pinned to the cold wall, his face inches from yours. As you were about to speak, he silenced you with his lips.

tags: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @nochook @kootieful @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @xjiminsthighsx @danielle143 @llallaaa @idkjustlovingbts @darcyw16 @missusally-blog @honsoolgloss @nochuel @kaitieskidmore1 @starrlo0ver @geek-lara-nerd @jwnghyuns @xyahrinx @acquiescence804 @prettytaesworld @i-have-three-feelings @citypop-princess

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theflyindutchwoman · 1 year ago

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And you're so concerned about my love life because? Because I don't want to drive around on patrol with you while you are moping about screwing this up. Look, if you like this girl, you should listen to her.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 4.10 - Heart Beat

For a scene that is supposed to be about Tim and his relationship with Ashley, it is very interesting how it actually highlights the bond he has with Lucy… Something that is made perfectly clear with the way it parallels this moment from The Bet : 'Why do I care if Tim dates? […] You just want everyone to be happy'. (2.03) This exchange completes this scene so well, showing how this is really all about these two. How they just want the other to be happy. How she has often helped him in his relationships, how he has always listened to her and this, from the beginning. Lucy may not be particularly fond of Ashley but Tim is and that's all that matters to her. That's why she basically runs after him.

There might be a slight hesitation at first, where she realises that she might be overstepping a bit here, but she also knows that he needs to be made aware of her conversation with his girlfriend. The fact that Ashley felt more comfortable talking about her fears with her, instead of Tim, already speaks volume. And while Lucy might have joked around in the shop, I think that phone call shed a different light on the situation and made her understand that Tim didn't fully get what was going on. That what he interpreted as a dislike for Kojo is instead a fear of him. And she is so taken aback by how cavalier he is at first. I don't think she expected him to react this way. Though that is a thing with Tim : he can be dismissive but he listens. He takes the time to reflect on his own behavior so he can change it. Like when Lucy called him out for the way he treated the gardeners in the pilot or when she was upset that he was getting the credits for her hard work. And this is what is happening here, he's following that same pattern… He needed to hear this. More specifically : he needed to hear this from Lucy herself. Which makes her statement later all the more ironic.

This is really in-character for Tim to deflect a bit. But there's also a genuine curiosity when he asks her why she cares so much about his love life. They're still in this space where they're testing each other in some ways. It says a lot that he doesn't even think of biting her head off for interfering in the first place, like he used to. They are so far passed that. And it is a very good question… One she asked herself after setting him up with Rachel. And yes, this is who she is : she wants the people around her to be happy. But this is different. We have yet to see her set up anyone else on a date or try to help them mend their relationship the same way. Even when Jackson was having issues with Sterling, she simply offered a shoulder to cry on. That little extra is reserved for Tim, and Tim only. That's what makes this parallel so good in my opinion. Because he himself didn't even question it back then. But now that things are changing between them, he is. Their hug, that almost-kiss, their blatant flirting at work… The fact that he needed her at his side when he confronted his father… This is all adding up and there's an awareness that is starting to grow… But what makes this parallel even more special, is how it underlines their selflessness. They have always helped each other in their respective relationships, regardless of their opinions and feelings. The other's happiness is what matters to them. Even here, it's hard to know whether Lucy is aware of her own feelings for him at this point, but either way, she simply sets them aside to help him - consciously or not.

And like I said earlier, her advice is full of irony : 'if you like this girl, you should listen to her'. Because he does already follow this to the letter… with HER. She is the one person he always listens to. The one that makes him want to be better. Tim being offended at her implication that he mopes is downright hilarious - especially in light of season 5a. Her little smirk when she walks away… His epic eye roll… The more things change, the more they stay the same.

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #4.10 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

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yourdeepestfathoms · 1 year ago

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TADC Playing D&D

(ALL PLATONIC/FAMILIAL.)

Caine is the DM obviously

Pomni plays a Firbolg Warlock (but her Firbolg’s design is the one that looks like a cow. y’all know the one. it’s the only valid design for a Firbolg)

Jax plays a Tiefling Rogue (obviously)

Ragatha plays an Aasimar Cleric (also obviously)

Zooble plays a Changeling Barbarian

Gangle plays a Gnome Druid

Kinger plays a Warforged Artificer

And then Caine reveals the plot twist: it’s gonna be irl dnd, and they ACTUALLY PLAY their characters

They’ve got costumes and their character traits and everything! Like, Ragatha gets angel wings, Jax has horns, Pomni gets a tail (because, again, cow-like Firbolgs are the only right way to design Firbolgs, and you can pry that from my cold, dead hands)

The terrain also changes into the same terrain as wherever they adventure to

Antics ensue!

Zooble is the tank

And they can instill the fear of god upon man

But you know who else can be scary as fuck?

Ragatha

Have you ever fought a Forge Cleric before? Did you know those bitches can wear Heavy Armor?

Combat is WILD when they’re actually acting it out

Though, it can barely be considered “acting” because Caine has somehow made magic possible????

Kinger asks to make the most wild shit because he thinks it’s fun

Gangle once got downed, got to two (2) failed Death Saves, was brought back up, and then was IMMEDIATELY downed again

Pomni gets anxiety over even the most mundane of rolls

She was asked to roll Perception, and she was sweating buckets, afraid to fail and screw everything up, and it was literally just to find a nice bakery in the city they were at

Jax asks to pickpocket orphans

Ragatha: Pomni, why is your Strength a seven???

Pomni: i don’t want to talk about it

Her Unarmed Strike literally does zero (0) damage

She never uses her weapon ever

Only Eldritch Blast

She also uses other spells ofc, but Eldritch Blast is her go-to

“Doll Face, i’m down” “Pomni’s having a panic attack” “okay, and? i’m downed”

Jax and Ragatha have beef the Whole Time

“why did you think you could hide in an empty arena??” “because i’m a Rogue, and they have Advantage on hiding!” “IT IS AN EMPTY ARENA WITH NOTHING BUT SAND.” “I AM A ROGUE WITH ADVANTAGE TO HIDING.” “THE ARENA IS EMPTY. THERE IS NOWHERE TO HIDE.”

Despite being a Firbolg, which is considered a race of Giant, Pomni is STILL considered as a Small creature (due to her own height)

Because of this, she can ride every single other person in the party, as the Ride rules in dnd state that a willing creature at least one size larger than you and has appropriate anatomy can serve as a mount

This has started a “technique” the group has named “War Horsing”

In which Pomni sits on someone’s shoulders and spams Eldritch Blast non-stop while the other person wrecks house

(She usually sits on Zooble’s shoulders and Cure Wounds them whenever they take too much damage)

She’s also called the “cannon” of the group because she’ll sit on Zooble’s shoulders and use Fireball

Speaking of Fireball!

The gang once found Beads of Fireball, and Jax, wanting to be a boss bitch and show how much better than everyone he is by single-handedly killing this super hard boss they were fighting, thought that because he’s a Tiefling and Tieflings have Resistance to Fire Damage, he could easily survive a blast.

Anyway, he ended up taking 80d6 Fire Damage after he threw all ten (10) beads at once.

Even when the damage was halved, he still died instantly.

Ragatha considered if it was worth it to Revivify him.

Pomni uses Speech of Beast and Leaf to speak with plants, and the plants just cuss her out.

Zooble: can i roll to pick up Pomni by the ankles and swing her around as an improvised weapon?

Pomni: ?!?!?!

(Caine said yes)

(Zooble ended up doing five whole damage with Pomni’s body)

Caine once rolled 200d8 Bludgeoning damage because Kinger fell off a mountain (he was Revivified by Ragatha after)

“COUNTERSPELL THIS, B[@&$%]” -Zooble, right before decking an NPC straight through a wall

When fights get too hairy, Jax will Disengage and leave the party to fend for themselves

There was once this HORRIFIC chase scene the party had to try to survive

Zooble: *polymorphed into a mountain goat by Pomni, sprinting as fast as they can*

Gangle: *Wild Shaped into a mouse, desperately hanging onto Zooble’s fur*

Ragatha: *flying away while holding Pomni*

Pomni: *clinging to Ragatha like how a baby sloth would cling to its mother, shooting Eldritch Blast at the monster every turn in a desperate attempt to slow it down, screaming*

Jax: *already 200ft in front of the others because he ran off way before them*

Kinger: *wondering if it’s a good time to tell the others he has Longstrider prepared*

Jax got maimed by a Mimic because he couldn’t help but not loot a chest he found

He then proceeded to get maimed by ANOTHER MIMIC in the VERY NEXT ROOM because he also tried to loot that, too

Zooble: does a 22 hit? 😏

Caine: no

the entire party: 😟

Pomni got bitten by a werewolf and failed the Constitution saving throw, so she ended up becoming a werewolf. During her first transformation, she lost control after failing the saving throw and immediately started mauling Jax.

Everyone just kinda stopped and watched in awe for a moment before they realized they should probably help him.

“He needed the humbling” -Zooble

Kinger crafts Pomni a gun and gives it to her

Caine: so you all see the werewolf pull out a Tommy gun

The party had to fight this giant frog, and they all thought it would be a walk in the park, but then it swallowed Pomni, and the simple encounter turned into a fight for Pomni’s fucking life because Pomni was actively suffocating inside of it, and Jax wanted to blow up the frog with a magic grenade he had, despite Pomni being in there (he was well aware that she would also take damage), and Ragatha was trying to see if she could heal Pomni from inside the frog, and Gangle ended up Wild Shaping into another frog and begging it to let Pomni go.

Pomni was traumatized.

Caine: who’s done a good job at roleplaying recently?

Kinger: well, Pomni did have a panic attack

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9800sblog · 7 months ago

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hybe tarot reading

public perception vs people involved

public's perception

3 of pentacles reversed, 8 of pentacles reversed, ace of pentacles reversed, the hanged man reversed, 7 of cups reversed

talk about tainted perception, all cards reversed screams volumes about how ignorant and illiterate most people are about their rights. the public has all the information, they know everything that is happening but keep not wanting to connect one thing with the other, they're just trying to feel important and like they matter in a grand scheme. they see the world as a bunch of isolated things and people, with no connection, the justice system doesn't work, nobody is really doing their jobs and no industry, organization or system really works. trying to push a classic tale of "rich vs poor", instead of "people vs life", they see hybe as old money and creating narratives to control people. they think most people, all artists and others involved are simply dumb, and can't see they're being controlled. just flip the script, like the hanged man reversed looks kinda dumb reversed in this spread, flip it to it's right position and "damn how does he balance himself like that? is he playing with the punishment he received? how is none of his clothes falling off? that rewuires a lot of physical strength, knowledge of anatomy, physics, astronomy, wow this is an impressive ugly man" etc.

perception of people involved

the world reversed, 7 of pentacles reversed, ace of cups reversed, 9 of pentacles, the fool

literally screaming to the public "shut the fuck up!!!!!" they see how the perception is all damaged, and people are trying to use the perceived bad situation to prey on them, which is ironic since their poor vision is what lacks them see how protected these people, systems and organizations actually are. like law works 😐. nothing new under the sun, but they're definitely taking advantage of this situation to fix things that are actually broken, literally universally involved, like this spread literally screams climate change. public is really trying to not connect one thing with the other, not use logic and pretend they're the village in "it takes a village to raise a child". people are literally ignoring the fact that you need to pass the police system to be hired, get a contract, this whole thing is not about min heejin, did yall forget kpop is a public part of korean government? [politicians: "this is how we want the world to see our country", kpop industry: "yes, sir! 🫡"] did yall forget kpop is literally anti censorship and control? did yall forget how much horror, science, ancient cultures, spirituality/religion/witchcraft references they make on a DAILY? something I often say fits perfectly with this spread, "it's better to ask offensive questions than stay ignorant". public is playing detective while actual detectives are at work, chill.

what it's actually like

3 of swords, king of swords, judgement, 9 of cups, 2 of cups

this needs no explanation, it's literally what I just said. if this was a matter of pedophilia against people that are seen universally, it would have been fixed already, it's not hard to put someone in jail. all cards are connected, and yall pretend to know nothing about daily life. like when I say universally, I mean, songs play on your phone and you post things on social media through satellites, like stop playing dumb, this isn't an isolated situation, if you feel unsafe in front of this "feud", you're already screwed, fear is almost useless towards human evolution, what could actually kill us these days? this does involve science, politics, astronomy, everything kpop talks about. again, stop acting dumb. yall think aespa songs sound grainy why? they're breaking sound barriers like these people are smart as fuck

#kpop tarot #hybe labels #kpop #tarot

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tenpintsofsundrop · 1 year ago

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I just watched the trailer for Saw X and I literally have tears in my eyes oh my fucking god.

I have said this before - and I know it might sound so weird to some people, but if you get it, then you fucking get it. But the Saw series, especially Saw III in particular, is the only piece of media that involves themes of 'medical horror' that has genuinely helped me get over my medical trauma and has helped me cope with my medical trauma.

Every other piece of media ever - not just horror media - from Grey's Anatomy to random thriller movies, to literally any horror movie with a medical themed environment, finds some way to trigger my medical trauma, because they paint illness in the most ableist way possible.

Hospitals are scary. Being sick is scary. And they use illness and sick people as a concept for horror without being empathetic towards them in anyway, or by magically curing their diseases in a convenient 45 minute episode (which would never happen in real life).

John Kramer is a character who flips the script on conventional ableism in medical based horror because he does something revolutionary - he showcases the horror from the perspective of the sick person.

And right from the moment I first got to see him in Saw II, giving speeches while coughing and having to ask someone else for a glass of water, tied to an IV pole (that was incorporated cleverly into the plot) - someone being the most menacing and powerful man in the room when he couldn't even stand, he instantly captured my attention as a horror villain for the ages.

Unlike Chucky, or Jason, or Freddy, or fucking Michael Myers - John is fragile. He died on screen and went through an entire detailed autopsy on screen. And yes, people are gonna make memes about how the producers are gonna squeeze the character's 'before death' era for all its worth, but I would much rather have flashback's that make sense (cough - fucking Jigsaw) rather than continually saying that the dead character 'somehow returned' just because the filmmakers want more money. Plus, they screwed themselves when they killed off the best apprentice early on instead of just handing the series over to her - as it should have been.

But anyway, my point is - John is a sick person. Having the series be from the perspective of a cancer patient is a radical act in my opinion. Everything from the symbolism of poisoning people to the fact that he is terrifying and controlling while dying in a hospital bed shifts the series from potential medical trauma to something that (personally for me) is healing when it comes to medical trauma.

So the fact that this new film is specifically about targeting a corrupt medical system (which some of the others have touched on, with having Lawrence and Lynn as trap victims and the entire insurance plot in Saw VI) - it gives me chills. I couldn't help but get genuine tears of joy while watching the trailer.

The idea that doctors will promise people happiness and healing and no delivery, steal their time and energy only for them to end up back at square one - it something I relate to so much, and I know seeing this film will be so cathartic for me. I am so excited for this that I could scream.

#NOBODY TALK TO ME #I'M SHIFTING INTO SAW MODE #oh man the urge to make my blog themes modelled after saw rn #ooof #sundrop speaks #saw #saw x #the saw franchise #the saw series

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fanfic-inator795 · 7 months ago

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I've talked a lot on here about my favorite characters, but what about some of my LEAST favorite characters?

Honestly, I don't have too many characters that I just hate with a burning passion or anything like that... but there are def characters that truly get under my skin. So let's have some fun and rant for a bit, shall we? Starting with least hated to most:

Sadie Miller (Steven Universe): Gonna be honest, a big reason why I dislike this character is because of her voice. No disrespect to Kate Micucci, but MAN her voice is just so grating to me personally (tbf, I feel the same way about Greg Cipes). As for the character herself, she's just incredibly whiny and annoying imo. I couldn't really relate to her frustrations with her mother, and that whole mess with her and Lars was just... yeah. Still can't really overlook the whole Stranded Island incident. Say what you will about how terrible Lars can be, but at least Lars can be funny and interesting sometimes. I just don't care for Sadie at all.

Mo Morrison (Lightyear): Laying out my biases here, I really don't like Lightyear in general, it's a very frustrating and agitating film to me personally, I could honestly rant about that movie for hours. But beyond the story/plot issues, Mo is just a very annoying character to me. They try SO hard to push him to be the comedy relief, and it just does not work. Then, when they try to push him as the team screw-up, they push too hard and just make him frustrating to watch since he literally can't do anything right and doesn't get a win until the payoff with the stupid spacesuit pen. Literally every scene with him just ends up making me go "goddamn it, Mo, why are you even here??"

Mr. Herriman (Foster's Home): As a kid who was a big fan of Frankie growing up, it shouldn't be surprising just how much I hate this rabbit. I think what really gets me is how callous and unfair he can be, with stuff like "Imposters Home for uh Make-em-up Pals", "Crime After Crime" and "Setting a President" showing him at his absolute worst. An all-around VERY frustrating and unsympathetic character to me, worse so than Bloo or any of the show's actual villains. Honestly, it makes me sad that we don't get to see more of his softer side - i.e. the life-long friendship he has with Madame Foster/the stuff that makes Madame Foster love him - as that easily could have saved his character. But for the most part, he just comes off as a huge jerk.

Stickler (The Cuphead Show): Similarly to Herriman, I think I just get incredibly annoyed with characters who put rules and procedure above everything else. What makes Stickler worse though is the voice they gave him, as while it's kinda funny in his first couple appearances, by season 3 I'm cringing just as much as Devil does whenever he pops up. They also amp up his jerkiness and pushiness in the later episodes - and while I get WHY they need to, given how distracted Devil gets, it's still a tad annoying imo.

Dr. Owen Hunt (Grey's Anatomy): Literally my least favorite character EVER. This guy... he really is just the WORST. And yes, I know there are in-universe reasons for how he acts, but when he continues being a shitty person to his wives and others, I stop caring about those reasons. He's a huge hypocrite on most things, has a 'my way is always right'/'My way or the highway' mentality, and he's just such a baby whenever he doesn't get his way or when he has to face consequences. YES, I KNOW, on Grey's pretty much everyone is a shitty person in some way because it's a dramatic medical soap opera and they need drama, but Owen really does just get under my skin the most with how stubborn and 'holier than thou' he acts a lot of the time.

...That being said, if any of my followers actually like these characters, no disrespect to you. In fact, I'd love to know WHY you like these characters, as perhaps I can get a new perspective on them.

#personal crap #random thoughts #venting #also if anyone ALSO hates these characters feel free to also comment haha

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gwenbrightly · 1 year ago

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(Re)Building the Future: Chapter 2

Thank you to everyone who read, commented, or reblogged for the first chapter! Here's the part where we all pretend like I know anything about first aid... I mean... Chapter 2!

As she clears the last of the elevator's wreckage away, Roxy steps back to examine her work. She doesn't understand how this happened. Yes, the elevator was clearly not very stable, but it made the trip down perfectly fine. What went wrong on the way back up? She was too busy with It to truly pay attention to what was happening elsewhere. And now… All she can do now is hope the crumpled body in front of her isn't already dead.

Just now, Roxy isn't sure having eyes again is a good thing, because she can see every cut, bruise, and twisted limb. She may not know much about human anatomy, but she's seen enough kids to know that there is something very wrong with Cassie. Probably several somethings.

First things first. She leans over the small girl and holds a claw to her neck. Okay. Roxy is going to assume that the slight fluttering she can feel there means the kid is still alive. That's good,she tells herself. That's promising. Next, she examines the girl's face. There's a pretty substantial gash on Cassie's forehead, but that should be fixable - right? It's not like her entire head popped off like the Driver Assist bots. The cut isn't deep enough for her brain to fall out. Humans are pretty resilient from what Roxy has seen.

"Oh, ewwww," Helpy interrupts her thoughts, "I don't think her leg's supposed to bend that way!"

Well. There goes her attempt at positive thinking.

"And her arm doesn't look so good either! That sure is a lot of blood!" Helpy continues.

Yeah, the positive thinking route has officially gone nowhere. It might be time to panic now.

"Do- Do you think it's safe to move her?" Roxy asks worriedly.

"I meannn… she looks pretty rough... But if we leave her down here much longer, she's gonna die anyway."

"Right. Okay. Let's get her out of here, then," Roxy decides, "What's the safest route to the surface, Helpy? I don't think I can carry her up this elevator shaft."

~~~*~~~

Maybe it's the sense of urgency. Maybe it's the added weight of Cassie in her arms. Whatever the case, the return trip feels like it takes a lot longer than her mad dash into the sinkhole had earlier that night. By the time Roxy reaches the surface, the pinkish light of dawn greets her through a hole in the ceiling high above her. She surveys the wreckage of her beloved race track for the first time. Furniture is overturned. Piles of garbage cover the floor, which has caved in in several places. It's even worse than she'd imagined it might be. Ruined.

There used to be a first aid station over by the Information booth, if she's not mistaken. So she climbs over more rubble to find it, being careful not to jostle Cassie too much. She can't risk injuring the girl further.

All for nothing, ultimately. All that remains of the first aid station is an empty stall equipped with even emptier cabinets. The human staff must have cleared it out before they abandoned the building. Abandoned her. There have been juvenile delinquents and thrill seekers, sure. But there hasn't been anyone to care about the animatronics living here in a long, long time. Until Cassie. Who is an innocent child and shouldn't be here to begin with. One who has already been through so much. She deserves better than to die in this forsaken place.

Roxy mentally goes through her list of options. If her first aid station has been cleared out, it's unlikely any of the others are still intact. Freddy is long gone, screw him. He was supposed to be the leader. The one with answers. But he left them all behind as soon as he had the chance. She's got no idea where Chica and Monty are. Or if they're in any condition to do anything useful. They probably wouldn't be much help anyway. None of the Glamrock Band members were ever given much programming in first aid. There were other bots for that. Bots she's pretty sure have been deactivated; she hasn't come across any signs of them in her wanderings. The Nurse Bots used to bring her updates about the kids who injured themselves doing stupid stunts at the Raceway. But now? Nothing. Silence.

Is there anyone left to help her care for this broken girl?

Wait… there's one other animatronic she hasn't ruled out yet. Someone who is almost guaranteed to be equipped with first aid protocol as part of his programming. Roxy just has to hope he's in the mood to help.

~~~*~~~

"You're sure he's been rebooted?" Roxy asks for the third time. She's standing outside the Superstar Daycare now. If the attendant is inside, he might be of use in this situation. Of course, if Moon has taken over, he'll probably want to torment Cassie instead of helping Roxy save her. She's never liked Moon much. He's a little too creepy for her taste. Even if the whole Pizzaplex is looking pretty creepy right now.

"Yep! Cassie took care of that earlier. She's so brave!" Helpy says with a hint of admiration.

"I guess I'd better get on with this, then." Throwing caution to the wind, Roxy knocks on the daycare's door. When there is no immediate answer, she bangs harder. Where could Eclipse be?

"Sheesh," a voice calls from within, "gimme a minute. The daycare opens in just a few hours and there's still so much to do!"

"Eclipse, please - this is important," she replies, giving the door another rattle. She debates telling the attendant it is unlikely the daycare will open again ever, let alone in a few hours. It doesn't seem that important, though, right now.

"Hello, Roxy," Eclipse's head pops through the doors, "are you here to help? I bet if we put some of this junk on one of your racecars we could -"

"Actually… I need your help, Eclipse," Roxy interrupts, practically shoving Cassie at him.

"Oh. Oh my stars, what happened to you, little girl?!" Eclipse asks Cassie. "I told you it wasn't safe here!"

All he gets is a moan in reply.

"Please, you know first aid. I know you do! You have to fix her." Roxy insists. Eclipse stares at the small girl for a moment before bursting to action.

"Emergency, emergency! Injured child! Call an ambulance! Contact the hospital right away!"

Roxy isn't sure who he's talking to (if anyone), but she agrees. An ambulance for Cassie is exactly what they need. She follows Eclipse into the daycare and over to the reception desk, where he proceeds to pull a corded phone out of… somewhere and presses some buttons. They both wait eagerly for some sign that a call has gone through. Eclipse cocks his head and fiddles with the phone. It emits a dull tone, then goes silent.

"Well. That's not good."

"The phone line has been disconnected." Roxy isn't asking. Eclipse nods.

"The phone line has been disconnected, and I'm beginning to think the daycare hasn't been open for quite some time."

"It hasn't," Roxy confirms, "the whole place has been shut down ever since the earthquake. How did you miss that?"

"I-I don't know? It doesn't matter right now. This little girl needs us!" Eclipse reminds her pointedly.

"You're right. What do we do?" Roxy asks, hoping he'll know. He scans Cassie with glowing eyes, then nods decisively.

"My programming only covers basic procedures like stitches and setting broken bones," The daycare attendant says.

If those are considered basic, Roxy wonders what paper cuts and bandaids count as.

"I should be able to fix her head injury if you help me gather supplies. But… The rest of her might be a little more tricky…"

"Just tell me what you need," Roxy says. She'll do pretty much anything.

~~~~~~

Roxy holds Cassie's limp hand as Eclipse ties off the final stitch. They've used an unhealthy amount of antiseptic from the stash of supplies Eclipse keeps in his room and forced a few pain pills down her throat. Her face looks better, now. Not perfect, but better. The rest of her, on the other hand? Not so much.

"She should heal up in a few weeks," Eclipse announces, "so long as she keeps her face clean and gets plenty of rest for that concussion."

"What are we gonna do about…" Roxy gestures at Cassie's other injuries.

"Don't get mad-" Eclipse starts.

"Why would I get mad?" Roxy asks indignantly. She's not the one with anger issues - no way. That's Monty. Definitely.

"I don't know if I can do anything more to help her."

"What?! No!" Roxy growls. She begins pacing. She's always found that to help her when she's processing. "Are you seriously giving up?"

"Her leg is shattered, Roxy. She may never walk again. And her arm is impaled with little bits of rebar in multiple places. And she's already lost so. Much. Blood. The phones are down and the daycare is closed and I don't know what to do!" Eclipse is practically hyperventilating. Roxy pauses. Maybe she's been a little too hard on him. He's tried his best, after all. And he's kept it together a lot better than she has up til now.

"I know. You're right. I'm sorry." Roxy says, putting a paw on Eclipse's shoulder. "I'm not good with losing situations."

"You really aren't," Eclipse agrees.

They slip into a quiet vigil, both watching the unconscious girl. Occasionally one of them will share a "What if?" but nothing seems to solve their problem. Neither animatronic would last long outside the Pizzaplex, and even if they did, they have no idea where the nearest hospital is. Killing Cassie and getting her ghost to possess a deactivated bot is a horrific idea for obvious reasons. Clearly Eclipse's time in the theater took him places Roxy would rather not think to deeply about if he thinks that's a viable option.

"What if…" Roxy says, preparing for her newest bad idea to be shut down.

"Yes?" Eclipse asks.

"You know how we just… replace things on the bots when they break?" Roxy continues, hesitantly.

"Yes?" Eclipse repeats, tilting his head.

"What if we… Replaced Cassie's broken parts?"

The daycare attendant stares at her. Roxy's pretty sure his eyes have gotten even wider than usual - if that's even possible.

"That's-"

"Crazy, I know," Roxy interrupts.

"It might be crazy," Eclipse acknowledges, "but it might just be our best shot at getting her through this."

#myfics #fnaf sb ruin #fnaf sb ruin spoilers #cyborg cassie coming soon to tumblrs near you #fnaf cassie #fnaf fanfics #rebuilding universe #fnaf fanfiction #roxanne wolf #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's fanfics #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf eclipse #fnaf helpy #Slight mentions of blood #Broken bones #Stitches #Idk much about first aid ok

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thatoneguy031 · 1 year ago

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Yes! I actually did it!

I finished my first drawing using a tablet! And in under 24 hours, too!

So, here's the first drawing I've made, done with a whiteboard and a red marker:

But here's the drawing I've made using Ibis Paint!

And here's the same pic, without the Champion Link outfit:

I've admittedly done a digital drawing before, but that was back when all I had was a hand-me-down phone and my own four paws. My phone got destroyed, and my first drawing along with it.

But this... This is awesome! Definitely expect me to draw more often using this thing!

...Although, I might not ditch the whiteboard thing altogether just yet.

Also, I'm redesigning Delta at some point. Don't know when, but this isn't... how I've exactly saw him. Mind you, I've only drawn him with a paper and pencil, I've never thought about a specific color scheme, but I have the main colors planned. I'm also working on protogen anatomy. If you see him look a little off later on, that's why.

(Also, I know I severely screwed up the lighting in the background, but shh, we don't talk about that.)

Any tips, tricks and critiques are appreciated! Thanks for your time.

*Also, please don't take credit for this. If you do, you're cringe.

#guy rambles #furry #art #digital artwork #delta protogen

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farfromstrange · 2 years ago

Text

Foreigner's God | m.m

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter thirty-two: Chasing Cars

Previous part XXXI ° series masterlist ° main masterlist

Summary: As Eliza holds on for dear life, she starts to remember more about her past. Not sure if she’s going to make it, she can only succumb to the many flashbacks that are the only thing keeping her mind alive.

Warnings: ANGST, PTSD, flashbacks, dark memories, Hydra, religious imagery, child abuse, general abuse, hints at sexual assault, death, mentions of sterilization

a/n: It’s okay, you can ask for financial compensation. I deserve it. (Happy Christmas Day and to those who are celebrating today, have fun unpacking your gifts!! enjoy time with your loved ones, cherish every minute of it. I love you all so much!) Also, please listen to the Fleurie remix of Chasing Cars. Did I steal this idea from Grey’s Anatomy? Yes. But I only let the song and the episode inspire me. I suggest listening to it. It’ll make this so much more heartbreaking. But I suppose there is a silver lining? I don’t know, you have to read to find out.

She awoke to the sound of nothing. The ground underneath her back was hard, rock-solid, freezing down to her bones. Smoke floated around sterile floor tiles, shrill neon lighting flickering on the ceiling above.

Eliza shielded her eyes with the palm of her hand. The surroundings weren’t as clear to her as the smoke around her. She wasn’t sure where she was or how she ended up there.

The shot, it hit her. She was shot. She was shot and she fell into Matt’s arms. She died. She was pretty sure she died.

Eliza hastily touched down her torso. No holes, no sticky blood leaking from her shirt. She was wearing a red dress – the suit had disappeared. Wide-eyed, wide awake she jumped to her feet. Apparently, there hadn’t been any time to wear shoes either. Some corpses are buried with shoes on if their family wishes so – does that mean you wear shoes in the afterlife too or is everyone barefoot where they end up? It wasn’t the most important question to ponder, but she was confused and scared and not at all prepared for what was about to come.

The thought of dying never scared her before, thinking of death as some sort of peace offering. Though the emptiness before her changed her mind just as fast. Death was cold and lonely. It wasn’t kind, it wasn’t peaceful. The silence was heavy. She felt buried underneath the weight of her sins, the world around her nothing but white light and smoke.

Time was a construct there. Either this was a really bad dream or she was in hell – convinced she’d died, Eliza didn’t consider any other option than the latter. Hell, Heaven, purgatory, the institutions blurred together. Red was the devil’s color – maybe the dress on her pale skin somehow hinted at where she was. She always suspected she’d eventually end up in hell. Though in her mind, there was fire instead of an endless, empty hallway.

Sterile tiles covered not only the ground but also the walls. Together with the shrill neon lighting, she concluded that she was in a hospital.

“Hello?” her voice echoed back at her. There were no doors, only never-ending tiles. “What the fuck?”

She began to scout the place, walking down the seemingly endless hallway. The doors wouldn’t open, they were screwed shut. Was death really this empty? She half expected to find the Devil himself at the end of the hall, waiting to see her off into an endless loop of torture of her own making. She deserved it. Heaven certainly wouldn’t look like this, people call it paradise for a reason. This wasn’t paradise, this was an abandoned hospital (possibly even a mental hospital) with doors that didn’t work.

Frustrated, she punched the door.

Eliza remembered standing against Viktor. She remembered choosing not to kill him, instead leaving him to rot in jail. She remembered the haze she was in when she killed her fellow mutant soldier, the feeling of his blood on her hands. They were clean now, not an injury in sight, though she could still feel his fading heartbeat under her fingers, and the guilt hit her with full force.

She broke her own rules. She killed someone and she didn’t even flinch, she didn’t panic, she just did it and then moved on. She turned into the thing Viktor wanted her to become. He must have planned this, must have planned for that song to trigger her already fragile state of mind. He did this, he turned her into a monster, but he was right – the decision was all hers. Everyone around her got hurt. She was cursed the day she was born.

“Told you it was a bad idea.”

She looked up to find her own face staring back at her. Relief washed over her. At least something familiar in the emptiness.

“Am I dead?” Eliza asked.

She shook her head. “No,” she said. “Not yet, at least. But you are dying.”

“I remember being shot. Ivan, he… God, I didn’t see him coming. I was foolish enough to leave him behind.”

“He wanted revenge. He got what he wanted. But that doesn’t really matter now ‘cause he’s dead.”

“What?” She frowned.

“Natasha killed him while you were so busy dying in your lover’s arms.”

Matt. “Oh, no,” Eliza dropped her head in her hands. “That poor- what did I do?”

Her double shrugged, arms dangling in the air. “I told you,” she stated as a matter of fact. “I warned you, you didn’t listen.”

“I know it’s my fault. No need to rub salt into the wound.” She looked around again. “Where are we, anyway? If I’m not dead yet. Is this like the waiting room to the afterlife or something?”

She scoffed, turning into a chuckle. “There is no such thing,” she said.

“Then what is this place?”

“I don’t know. I’m not in control of your mind.”

“No, I’ve almost died many times before, and never, not once, have I seen anything beyond the darkness.”

“Perhaps you’re worse off now.”

“You’re not very helpful.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know! I don’t even know why you’re here. If you’re not going to help,” she huffed, “Why don’t you just go?”

“No can do,” she said. “Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. Because I’m you, and I have been chosen to help you through this.”

“Through what?”

“You didn’t think this was just an empty hospital, did you?”

“Oh, so you do know something.”

“I know that you’re dying, and that’s what I’m trying to prevent. I warned you, you didn’t listen, but you don’t deserve to suffer for doing what you thought was right.”

Eliza threw her head back and groaned. “What do you know?” she barked.

“I‘ve been living in your head since you were born, you just always pushed me away because you were scared of what you might find if you looked further,” she explained. “And you know, since I grew up with you and I’m not a real person, I know exactly what you went through. I saw it. I remember.” The double stepped forward. “Don’t you want to remember too?”

Her breath stuttered, fists clenching at her sides. She wanted to remember. She wanted to see what was behind those doors, but what if she wouldn’t like what was behind them? What if she saw things she couldn’t remember for good reasons? She suddenly wasn’t so sure if she even wanted to know more about the person she used to be.

“You’re dying,” she told her again. “Is this really how you want to go out?”

She scoffed.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” The double offered her hand. Her eyes softened. “Come with me.”

Hesitantly, she took the offer.

“Where are we going?” Eliza asked.

She led her down the hallway, in the direction she came from. In the spot where she woke up, they halted. She let go of her hand, pointing toward the silver door to her right.

“Open it,” she said.

“What?”

“Just trust me. Open the door.”

Her hand lingered on the handle. What if it wouldn’t open? None of them seemed to work before she ran into the voice in her head. Her pulse raced, a sign that she somehow still must have been alive. She could have sworn her heart stopped on the way to the hospital – was she even at the hospital? Were they operating? Did she get a blood transfusion? The fact that she was still alive surprised her. She had lost a dangerous amount of blood already, surgery would only kill her.

She chose to trust her better judgment. There was still hope, or else she would have gone straight to hell. So she pushed the handle down, closing her eyes as the door opened.

Eliza opened her eyes to an unknown scenery. The inside of a hospital room, a man holding a baby, his wife surrounded by doctors, and she was flatlining.

The baby cried violently, the continuous beeping of the heart monitor tuning out everything else, hurting her little newborn ears.

She recognized the woman on the table. Blood pooled out of her nose. Her skin was pale and cold, and her body was lifeless. She reached out to touch her face, and somehow it worked. She stroked the woman’s cheek.

“Mom?” At the broken sound of her voice, she winced. “God, I’m so sorry.”

Her father only handed the baby off as he fell to the floor. He couldn’t look at his daughter, not like this. The doctors weren’t sure what to do, so the nurse took the baby away, and another leaned down to the crying man. She offered him a sedative, but he declined. He wouldn’t let go of his wife’s hand, even long after the blue sheet covered her body and her face disappeared. He sat there for so long, his legs turned numb. Not once did he leave to see his daughter.

Eliza supposed she deserved this. He saw his wife inside his daughter. The thing that killed her. The thing that should have died. She wanted to comfort him, but she wasn’t sure how.

“I don’t want to see this,” she whispered.

“You already did,” her double said.

Time passed by her. Another door appeared behind them. She took her hand, allowing her to guide her through it.

Life moved in picture frames, two pictures by the second, month after month of screaming and tears. A funeral, no one there but the man and the baby. There was no family, no one.

He came home with the baby in the car seat to an empty house. The same house she had been in only hours ago. It looked all the same, though, without Guinevere, the house seemed like an empty hole threatening to swallow them. She didn’t understand what happened then, but her father did. She was just a baby and he tried to accept that, but she could see in his eyes how hard he struggled to accept what happened, to accept her. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault she looked like her mother, that she became the constant reminder of what happened before and then after she was born. He only had to look at her and see the dead eyes of his wife disappear behind a blue sheet before the doctors rolled her out of the operating room.

Behind the next door lay a graveyard. “We were scared for no reason,” her father spoke to the gravestone. Russian, as far as Eliza could tell. “Our little girl is fine. She’s as healthy as a baby could be,” he said.

Although he was grieving, he took care of the baby as a father should. He fed her, changed her, and rocked her to sleep. Though sometimes he’d cry whilst holding her, and sometimes he couldn’t look at her at all, reminded of the life he’d lost and all the memories that came with it. She was too aware for a child her age.

Up until her first birthday, everything seemed normal. The man was broken over his wife’s death, but even he had managed to fall into a routine good enough for him and the baby. She grew steadily, though her mind progressed rather quickly. Seeing the memories before her eyes for the very first time, Eliza soon realized why – She hadn’t been able to remember for so long because she’d started to push the bad memories down from the day she was born.

Six months later on a sunny day, the garden of a beautiful suburban home. Eliza was one year old then. She sat on the grass, playing with the new toy her father got her for her birthday. A butterfly flew by her. She tried to catch it with her small hands, but it was faster. Suddenly curious about the creature, she got up and ran towards the fence connecting the house to the rather dark one on the other side.

“Don’t go in there,” Eliza breathed out. She stared at her double, then the baby in front of her. “Tell her not to go in there,” she said. “Do something!”

She placed her index finger on her lips – just watch. She couldn’t change the past. It was set in stone.

Her father told her never to go near the fence, and never to disturb the neighbors. He warned her about next door. Her father. There had been a time when she made it her mantra. She was merely twelve months old. She didn’t know any better.

So she climbed through the small opening in the fence, hunting after the butterfly with the beautiful red wings.

It landed on a flower on the ground, seemingly waiting for the girl to follow. She giggled. Butterflies are even more beautiful up close, she noted.

“Babochka.”

Butterfly was her first word. Ironic. Most children say the names of either one of their parents first. Eliza, however, said her first word in the presence of a butterfly, which she only knew how to name because the book her father read every night revolved around a lonely butterfly embarking on a journey to find the true meaning of life.

She only blinked once. The butterfly broke down before her very eyes. His wings spread out, red streaks on the dried grass. The flower he’d sat on crumbled next to it.

She was just a baby.

Eliza felt the grass underneath her feet when she ran up to the man looming above the child.

“Don’t touch her,” she threatened.

A wall seemed to separate her from the situation. She could feel everything, but she wasn’t truly there. It was a memory. Memories can’t be changed.

The man began to yell at her. Told her to leave, and called her all kinds of names. He was a heartless bastard.

Eliza didn’t expect her younger self to have been so calm. The truth was much darker than she imagined.

As he tried to pull her up, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Seconds later, her eyelids fluttered open to the color of burning red. The simplest touch to her shoulder sent electricity through him. His body shot back, hit by the sheer force of whatever left her body in bright rays.

“Alina!” her father called out. “Alina where the hell are you?!”

She had to watch in horror as the man jumped the fence only to come face to face with what his daughter had done. His neighbor lay unconscious in one corner of his garden, blood pooling from his nose, surrounded by rose bushes that scratched his skin.

Little Alina sat on the ground, unbothered, and stroked the broken butterfly’s wings. In her mind, he was still alive. Only his wings were weakened. It twitched between her gentle fingers.

“Oh my,” he breathed. “Alina, what have you done?”

He lied to her when he said he only started considering getting her help when he taught her how to ride a bike and she saved a butterfly’s life. She wasn’t sure if he lied because he chose to forget the memory from when she was a baby or to protect her. Either way, the sight before her shook her to the core.

“Babochka,” she said, clearer now.

The butterfly twitched again. His wings began to flutter. Once squished and on the brink of death, life seemed to come back to him.

Her father knelt next to her. “What did you do?” he whispered again, this time pointing at the butterfly.

“Babochka.”

“He’s alive.” His brows furrowed. “He was dead, now he’s alive. How- Alina…”

“Dada,” she showed it to him. “Babochka.”

“Come on.” He hoisted her up into his arms. “We need to go home.”

The butterfly spread its wings and began to fly. She happily laughed at the sky. “Babochka!”

This was the first time her powers showed. At the ripe age of twelve months. Eliza was bound to jump the train to disaster. From the day she was born, the ability to do the indescribable has been running through her blood, and that was far more terrifying than what Hydra made her out to be. She was a ticking time bomb, even back then, even without being experimented on.

She was a nightmare come true.

From the day in her neighbor’s basement, her powers only grew. Incidents like that happened more often, the intensity increasing and her control decreasing. Her father kept her hidden away in the house, but even there she started to create chaos. He could no longer contain the power his child carried. He could no longer protect people from his daughter. Every time someone touched her or enraged her in some way – every time she didn’t get her way or she found a reason to punish someone, she lashed out and her powers often lead to injury.

She had it coming; the second Hydra caught onto her powers, she was done for, but she had it coming.

What hurt the most though was the fact that her father was always one step ahead.

“I have found people that can help you,” he explained to the five-year-old as he walked them to the car. “We’re going on a little trip and we’re going to fix you, okay? It’s going to be okay, Alina.”

He sold her out. He brought her to the base in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the winter snow. He handed her over to Hydra. They only had to offer him a program that would keep her off his ass and he was willing to hand his little girl over just like that.

Alina screamed when they pulled her through the steel doors, away from the only man she ever trusted. She screamed for them to let her go, screamed for her dad to come to save her, to take her back home, but he only watched. Even as she exploded into red rays of energy and the people around her dropped like flies, he just watched. They injected her with something, right into her neck, and she couldn’t stop it. Whatever poison they gave her, it worked. Her father watched as they pulled her away, doors falling shut and his face disappearing into a black hole behind her very tired eyes.

When she woke up, her father was gone and life as she knew it ended in an instant.

They stamped the number 008 onto her wrist. The clothes they gave her were too big, a pair of shorts and a sweater, both gray as ash. The strange men pushed food through an opening in the closed door.

Every day around the same time, she supposed, someone in a white coat came in, changed the fluids attached to her veins, and then left again. After about eight of these encounters, she had lost all sense of time and space. There was no daylight, only the small space of a sterile white room, her leg tied to the bed, and drugs being pumped through her system.

With time, she became willing. With time, she grew. It must’ve been not long after her capture that they took her out of confinement, once she was calm and able, and carried her into another room. Weak in the knees, she fell.

“Hello, eight,” she lifted her tired head to face the man in a suit just a couple of inches before her. He smiled as he handed her a cup. “We haven’t met before. Here, sit.” He appointed her a chair right across from him.

She was terrified, so of course, she complied.

“You’re all malnourished. Haven’t they been feeding you?”

They had been, but she puked up everything they gave her. The fluids only helped partially and whatever else they were giving her drained even the last life from her.

“Your father was a bright man, you know,” the man said. “He knew he couldn’t handle your power, so he led you here, where we can help you discover your full potential. Now, I know you’re scared. It’s okay to be scared, for now. But you don’t have to be. I will take good care of you, my child. I am your father now.”

“Why?” Her voice broke when she asked.

“Because I know what you can do, and I will make sure you go way above that. You’ve got a gift, a great gift. You’re more powerful than you realize. That’s why you’re here. That’s why he brought you here because he knew this program is the only thing that will help you.”

“Help?”

“Yes, help. It’s time we free you from this hell you’re living in, don’t you think? Don’t you want to be in control?”

She nodded weakly. “Yes.”

“Then let me help you. Can you do that? Can you surrender yourself to me so I can help you?”

“Y-yes.”

“Good, that’s good.”

“Who are you?” she dared to ask.

He chuckled. “We are Hydra. Now me, that doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that we are Hydra and we are here to help you.”

She only hesitantly gave in. “Okay,” only because she believed him. “What now?”

“Now,” he got up. “We’re going to get you some new clothes and then you’re going to meet your new friends.”

“Friends. You help them?”

“Yes, we help them too. We’re trying to, At least. Of course, we can’t help everyone. You’re too young to understand, but let me tell you something: sacrifices are what make us human. They’re necessary. Sometimes you help someone and it doesn’t work. You’re going to get better, but not everyone’s going to turn out the same way. I need you to understand that, accept that.“

Young Eliza pointed down at her wrist. “Eight,” she read out loud. “The others are numbers too?”

He nodded slowly. “They’re just numbers,” he said. “You, on the other hand… you’re special. I know you’re special. I just need you to prove to me that I wasn’t wrong in choosing you.”

Eliza watched in horror as the words took effect on her.

“I won’t,” she’d always aimed to please.

“Good.” He finished stirring the tea he prepared for her. “You’ll start your lessons today. If you’re a good student, you will be rewarded. If you’re not, you will be punished. The rules will be explained to you further before you start training. I will be there, every step of the way.“

“What is training?”

“Training is essential to your development. There will be phases in which you’ll be… shaped. It's important for training to work so that you fit in. It’s nothing too bad, just private lessons. Your abilities will be tested with every new lesson. Once You’re through, you’re going to be more powerful than any of us and that’s a gift, but that gift has to be controlled. You’re destined for greater things and I will make sure you get to do what you were made for, what we are going to make of you. You’re my little demon, eight. My child. We will do this together, every step of the way.”

“I will be fine?” she asked.

“You will be just fine,” he said. “Are you ready?”

Eliza shook her head, face pale like a ghost. “Say no,” she begged. “Just say no. Run, fight. Don’t just sit there!”

But she’d been just a child then. She didn’t know any better. She wanted to be loved. She wanted to be wanted, to be seen as more than just dead weight, so she said, “Yes, I’m ready.” Even though she had no idea what she signed herself up for.

Judging by the chains on every part of her body, she knew even at five years old that she would never be able to go back. Weirdly, she was content with that. Her father gave up on her, so she gave up on herself. She gave up the fight.

And as Eliza watched herself give into weakness, she cried. She cried for the little girl, too broken and too scared to fight back. She cried at the thought of her father abandoning her, even after everything she watched them go through. She cried at the fact she’d been a menace that couldn’t have been controlled even if he’d tried. But most importantly, she cried because no one could’ve saved her – she simply had nobody that cared enough to get her out. She was all alone.

She pulled the door close, returning to the white hallway. She breathed heavily. Remembering hurt. She wasn’t sure how she could have ever wanted to do that.

“I can’t do this,” she said. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m done. Ah!”

Eliza slid down the wall, head between her knees. A sharp pain tore through her chest, squeezing her heart.

Her double stood in front of her, not impressed by her reaction.

“Right now you’re going into cardiac arrest,” she told her. “They revived you and now your heart has stopped again.”

She cried out when another wave of pain hit.

“They just defibrillated you.”

Breathing got harder.

“And again.”

“I can feel that,” Eliza bit back, “thank you!”

“Hey, I’m just stating the obvious. Death is inching closer and I need you to remember before that happens.”

“Why? What good is it gonna bring me if I’m dead?” She pressed a hand against her chest. “This isn’t going to miraculously save me. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“We need to buy your body time,” she said. “The only way to do that is to keep your brain viable. If your brain dies, you’re dead. If your brain stays awake though, your body might recover. That’s why I’m here.”

She slumped against the wall. “I’m so tired. Can’t we just… stop?”

“I can’t let that happen.”

“Maybe I don’t want to live, have you thought about that?”

“I didn’t ask what you wanted. We’re doing this, whether you like it or not.” She extended her hand again.

The pain moved into the background. Eliza looked between her double and the several doors ahead of them. They had made quite the progress, but there still seemed to be no end to this torture. If keeping her brain alive meant remembering all the pain she went through, maybe she should just allow herself to pass away.

Though her double wasn’t willing to let that happen. She was far stronger than her, impossibly so. She didn’t stand a chance against herself. It was pathetic.

She took her hand, allowing her to pull her to her feet.

“You can do this,” she insisted. “You’ve been through so much, this won’t break you. If anything, it will only make you stronger.”

Eliza opened the next door. As much as the exhaustion was starting to run her thin and all she wanted was to give into the darkness, she refused to go down without a fight.

She was back in the confines of the White Room, though this time they took her to the conference room. Her younger self’s steps slowed down when she saw the stranger sitting at the table, his back turned to her.

Viktor opened his arms. “There she is!” he said, grinning at the sight of her. His hand found her shoulders, lingering just a little too long.

“Who’s this?” she questioned.

“Someone who’s going to help you with your new mission.”

She wasn’t sure how old she was. Twelve, maybe, and the strange man was significantly older than her. She eyed his stiff back. Most people turned at the mere thought of meeting her. This one didn’t even move a muscle. She was curious.

Viktor ran his thumb over her cheekbone. “I will give you two some time to get familiar,” he said. “We will talk specifics next.”

“Is he one of us?”

“Yes. He’s one of the best.”

She closed her eyes at his gentle touch.

“No one surpasses you, of course. You will always be Hydra’s number one, and you will always be my star.”

The girl nodded. Viktor bid his goodbyes, leaving them alone.

She approached the stranger only slowly. “Did they give you a number too?” she asked him.

Upon circling him, she noticed that his left arm was made out of silver metal. A red star had been painted over the artificial bicep. He was almost like her, not entirely human, possibly part machine. He might not have been a mutant, but he knew what it was like to be modified, to be changed.

His soul shone in conflicting colors. She felt pangs of sympathy for the emotional pain he was in. Beyond the mind control, a broken man was hiding in the shadows. Torn apart by war and lost friends.

She met his steel-blue eyes. He eyed her, she eyed him back. His lip twitched, though half covered by his long brown hair.

“You’re a child,” he stated.

Sitting down in front of him, she copied his stance as best as possible.

“How old are you?”

“I don’t know, how old are you?” she retorted.

She truly didn’t know. There wasn’t exactly the time to count birthdays, considering her life only worked in one direction and that was to succeed during missions and make Hydra look good. She was their only successful experiment, after all. A White Room experiment, to be more precise. Seeing the man before her though made her feel less alone, and weirdly enough, she admired him.

He chuckled. “They told me about you.”

“What did they say?”

“You’re a talker.”

“And you’re not.”

“Talking is overrated.”

He wasn’t allowed to, most of the time. Viktor had a different approach when it came to his subjects.

The girl leaned forward, elbows supported on her knees. “What do they call you?” she asked.

His eyes trailed over her face again. He hesitated. “They call me the Winter Soldier,” he answered. “Whatever that means.”

She hummed. “Heard about you.”

“What’s your name?”

“I don’t have a name. He likes to call me his little Red Demon though.” She was talking about Viktor. “But I’m also number eight.”

“Soldiers don’t need names. We were made to function. Names are for the weak. They only make for distractions.”

He sounded like a robot.

Eliza watched with sorrowful eyes. Unlike him, she remembered their first meeting. And she saw the effects of Hydra’s torture long after she left when they ran into each other at the SHIELD headquarters before it fell. He shot her. She remembered that. It had been one of those times she nearly died.

She followed her younger self around the conference table. He couldn’t see her, but she could see him.

“They treated you far worse than they did me,” she said.

“That’s because Viktor saw you as his pet,” her double said behind her. “He loved you in his own twisted way. He saw your potential. You were the only one who survived his torture, so you became special. Him…” she motioned to the man at the table, “He was just a convenient subject that fell into Hydra’s hands, someone associated with Captain America, and with his arm gone, they saw an opportunity. Your purposes inside Hydra were inherently different. You wrote history, he was just supposed to kill people. You were a secret, a myth, he was their best soldier. You can’t compare these two situations.”

Eliza knelt to touch his thigh. He jolted. “I’m so sorry, Bucky,” she whispered. “I should have gotten you out much sooner.”

Another door appeared behind her. The story ended there. She rose back to her feet.

“What’s behind the next one?” she dared to ask.

Her double sighed, “You know I can’t just tell you that. Defeats the whole purpose.”

“I want to know how much more pain I have to suffer.” She turned to look at her. “I remember everything up to this point,” she said. “I saw picture after picture flash by me. I heard voices I never heard before. I met versions of myself I never thought existed. What else can there be, what else can you show me? I need to know.”

“There’s only so much more,” she told her.

“How much more?”

This time, she pushed the handle down for her. The door swung open.

“Walk through and you’ll know.”

Eliza huffed. “You’re so useless.”

The light engulfed her. Her feet touched the cold brown of the parquet floor. She was blinded for a second, the spotlight falling right on her face.

She recognized the white curtains, and the oval windows with the metal frame, and when she turned she caught a glimpse of the barre in the corner. It stood right across from the gigantic mirror stretching along the entire wall.

Her old ballet teacher stood with her arms crossed behind her back, hiding out in the corner while Tschaikovsky’s The Nutcracker played over the speakers. The tune was the first thing she actively paid attention to. It started slow, then turned into a dramatic, building climax. The melody was enticing, especially to those with a trained ear for opera and/or ballet.

Eliza, however, associated nothing pure with this song. Her back straightened involuntarily. Discipline, that was what that song meant. Dancing under the strict eyes of her teacher, whose name she couldn’t remember, had been a memorable experience. It stuck with her subconsciously, as did the skill to master every ballet piece to perfection. Once learned, she would never forget it again, almost like riding a bike.

The Six-year-old danced right past her. She was terrible at remembering choreography during the first two sessions, which resulted in many slaps with her teacher’s cane, and sometimes even a stick taped to her back so she wouldn’t hunch or break position. She was the only one in the ballroom.

She graduated from six years old to ten, mastering every dance thrown her way perfectly. Ballet helps with coordination and builds muscle. It also increases cognitive function and focus and improves memory. All of those skills are often needed in combat.

Natasha often told her that they taught her how to dance ballet in the Red Room too. For one, the girls were supposed to keep the men entertained – it was the most female thing to do, and they had to fit the patriarchal picture. Though at the same time, the periodical dance lessons also helped improve their fighting and get them ahead in training.

Since Eliza was the only child to survive the White Room, she spent time alone with her teacher, getting her full attention and her full punishment whenever she did something wrong. She simply stopped making mistakes after the first two punishments, realizing that she had worse coming if she kept disappointing her. So she did her best to be on her best behavior, always. And Viktor enjoyed the little private shows he got. His judgment was the most important. She wanted to please him, to get his approval and his compliments. She danced for him, then she danced for Mueller until she danced for a whole crowd of men. She ignored what she saw happen, ignored the stares and the comments about how gracefully her body moved and how mature she looked for her age. Viktor told her if she did a good job, she would get rewarded. His rewards were what kept her going, what made all of this bearable in the first place.

Eliza turned her head away. She couldn’t stand the look in his eyes, the gentle touches on the girl’s cheek, her waist, and everywhere else where a person shouldn’t touch another without their consent. He told her how she could improve herself, someone who had never danced ballet before, helped her straighten her back and got her into a new position. She let it happen. After all, he once told her that she was his to command and that she was supposed to do everything for him because he was the only one who would ever care for her. He owned her. If she did what he did, he would reward her nicely. If she didn’t, he had to teach her a lesson or two. If she mouthed off or put her nose into matters that didn’t concern her, she was punished. His love was supposedly the only thing in her life that would persist; he was there when no one else was, he raised her and he made her believe that she was only worth something because of him. Without him, she was useless. She needed him like she needed air to survive. And you shouldn’t speak up to the people you owe your life to.

In hindsight, believing any of this had been foolish. But she was a scared little kid, she grew up under his control. He manipulated her from the day she got there, making her dependent on him. He took her under his wing, nurtured her, and turned her into the girl he wanted her to be. He turned her into the perfect soldier, his doll, a perfect object to show off. He could twist and turn her however he wanted and she followed his every move like a lost puppy. She didn’t know any better. She was all alone. She craved love, safety, and affection, and his twisted version seemed better than none, even if he used her as he saw fit, emotionally and physically, always.

Eliza gasped audibly when she watched the teenage girl trip during her rendition of Cinderella. Her teacher hit her already bruised back with her cane, yelling for her to get back up.

Soldiers don’t cry.

And she got back up and danced until her feet were the same color as her crimson dress. Once the teacher was gone, she broke down again, too weak to walk herself out of the room. She took off her pointy shoes and instantly met with the gruesome sight of her mangled feet. She had danced for too long and she paid the ultimate price.

Something told Eliza that the next memory was going to be much worse. She headed straight for the door, ready to run, ready to escape, but as she ripped it open, she only ended up in another strange hallway.

Her chest heaved. She watched in horror as the doctors of the White Room wheeled her body on a gurney toward the operating room. She was tied down with leather straps and dressed in a white gown. She didn’t struggle, too sedated to care.

“Graduation ceremony,” she muttered.

Her double was waiting at the door. “Perhaps you don’t need to see this…” she said.

“Don’t need to or don’t want to?” she asked.

“Both.”

The door to the operating room shut in her face. She could see the instruments through the glass in the door, the forceps, the speculum, the scalpel, and whatnot. They injected her with something, though she never fell unconscious.

Someone said, “Ready to proceed.”

She turned her head away. Her double was right, she didn’t want to see this. She didn’t need to in order to remember what happened. Her stomach twisted, and she felt the pull in her lower stomach, something that was no longer there. Phantom pains, almost.

Eliza stifled her sobs through her hand, heading back to the door.

“No distractions,” she remembered.

“I’m sorry,” her double was just as quiet, no longer the obnoxious know-it-all but rather mourning something she knew all too well.

They stepped back into the abandoned hospital. She was about to speak, but the excruciating pain returned tenfold, hitting her across the face, and her eyes rolled back into her head. She fell to the floor, clutching her chest, clutching her burning heart. The entry to her lungs was clogged. She couldn’t breathe. Her entire body felt as if it was about to drown any second.

That wasn’t a good sign.

The world around her started to darken, the darkness calling for her. It reached its claws out, long nails cutting through the air. The reaper stood there in his black robe, holding out his hand. Her hands were covered in blood again and she gasped.

Hell it is, then.

She knew she wouldn’t make it into heaven. The reaper seemed determined, she didn’t have much of a choice but to get up and walk toward him.

Sometimes hoping and trying aren’t enough to cheat death, especially not when it’s imminent. Eliza only delayed the inevitable, but she was done fighting.

“Nope,” she heard her double exclaim behind her.

With a slap, the darkness disappeared and she was tossed into another room. This time, the voice in the distance sounded too familiar to have been an old memory.

“Keep doing what you’re doing!” he bellowed.

“Sir, she’s been down for over thirty minutes,” a female voice said.

One single line, one single beep, ongoing. Hands squeezed her heart the way she felt it in her chest as she lay open on the operating table. Tubes stuck out of her arms. The epinephrine washed through her veins, attempting to reach her heart, but it somehow wasn’t enough to get the organ beating again. She looked like her mother then, blood coming out of her nose where the ventilator was attached to her airway. Only the blue sheet was missing.

“Even if we got her back,” she supposed it was the responsible surgeon who said, “The brain can only survive without oxygen for so long. She might already be brain dead.”

“I don’t care!” Nick Fury stood on the other side, basically yelling into the microphone connected to the speakers. “You’re going to do everything in your goddamn might to bring that girl back. You get her heart beating again. You save her. There are too many people depending on her survival, and I’d be damned if I let her die like that. So you try everything, and you don’t give up. You bring her back to me, you got that? That is one of us lying on that table, not just some random patient. She deserves the best of the best, and you’re not doing your best right now. Thirty minutes don’t mean shit, not with her.”

“Sir,” the woman urged again.

“No, you listen to me! Save Eliza Bennett’s life, whatever it takes,” he said. “That’s an order!”

Eliza poked her shoulder. It felt odd.

“Fight,” a voice in her head demanded.

She wasn’t strong enough to fight death any longer. The reaper had been right there, ready to take her to the afterlife. Anything was better than this continuous loop of torture.

She wasn’t brain dead yet though, she was still very much present, but the more her body weakened, the more she felt herself slipping away. She didn’t want to fight any longer, she was tired. She wanted to rest, she needed to. Just rest her eyes for a second, forget the rest of the world and simply breathe. Though she knew that as soon as she gave in, she would be dead and there would be no turning back. She hadn’t yet decided if that was something she wanted. She needed more time to figure it out, time she didn’t have.

Eliza had to make a decision, and it was truly one of the hardest she ever had to make.

Until she found herself in the waiting area and saw the scene she left behind.

Natasha sat down next to Matt on the uncomfortable plastic chair. He kept hitting his head against the wall. She took his bloodied hand, intertwining their fingers. Her eyes were red from all the crying, and no more tears were left to shed. Matt didn’t look much better.

His words crushed her. "...I don't want to lose her,” he whimpered, voice hoarse. “I thought I already lost her once, and it was..."

Natasha squeezed his hand. "I understand,” she said.

The hardest decision suddenly became a very easy one.

Eliza stormed back into the operating room and screamed into her own ear. “Get your stupid heart beating again, right now,” she said. “We’re pathetic and we don’t deserve the love they give us, so the least we can do is survive this shit show so they don’t have to deal with the grief of losing us on top of everything else too. Do you get that? Fucking fight!”

The doctor looked up at the sudden change in rhythm on the monitor. “V-fib,” she called out. “Charge to two hundred.”

They set the paddles straight to her heart.

“All clear!”

She felt the shock deep in her bones. Still staring at herself, she ground her teeth.

“Come on,” she said. “Don’t give up now.”

The dark smoke started to build behind her again, darkness calling for her. This time, she stared the reaper right into his empty, white eyes and denied him.

“Not now! I’m fucking busy.”

“Charge again,” said the doctor.

They shocked her again. Nothing changed.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” Eliza hit the gurney. “Why won’t you wake up?”

Getting frustrated with herself was even more pathetic than talking to herself, but no one could see her anyway and perhaps her body would somehow listen to her before the reaper would take her brain too, and then there would be nothing left to save.

She couldn’t leave them like this. They didn’t deserve the burden of losing her.

The next shock burned through her heart muscles. Somehow though, it felt good this time, like she had just been punched awake by a cold bucket of water.

The doctor exhaled loudly. “We’ve got a rhythm!” she said, almost in disbelief about the situation herself. And Eliza couldn’t blame her. Watching the scene unfold made her believe she really wasn’t going to make it.

She closed her eyes. When she reopened them, she stood in front of what seemed to be the last viable door in the empty hallway.

Her double smirked back at her. “My plan worked,” she said.

“It almost didn’t,” Eliza retorted.

“Yeah, but it did. You’re welcome.”

“Why is there another one?” She motioned for the door.

“Well, your heart might be beating again, but you’re far from being out of the woods yet.”

“Oh, my…”

“They’re going to finish operating on you and then you have to find a way to wake up somehow or else all of this would have been for nothing.”

“If I don’t die first.”

“I have a feeling that you won’t.”

“So I just gotta remember until my mind is strong enough to wake up, or what?” she asked.

Her double shrugged. “What else do you want to do?” she said.

“I don’t know, go on vacation?”

She snorted. “Why don’t you go in and find out?”

Eliza rolled her eyes. As soon as she stepped through the doorway, all of the other doors disappeared. A soft breeze brushed through her hair. The sun kissed her skin to the sound of waves crashing into the shore. Seagulls squawked above her head. The smell of salt lingered in the air. She took a deep breath.

New York had always felt like home. The weather was milder than in Russia, but at least it snowed sometimes and it reminded her of a time before things went wrong. However, there was nothing she enjoyed more than the occasional visit to the beach. It was often unbearably hot, especially in the States she had been to, but the calming sounds made up for the heat, and the different scents always managed to scratch an itch in her brain. She felt completely at ease at the beach.

Her double initiated the stroll along the promenade. They walked in silence, feeling the sand between their toes and the oncoming sunburn that proved they were still alive.

Eliza sniffed the air again. She could get used to this, her little version of paradise. But this wasn’t hers. They didn’t step into a memory. She would orchestrate her afterlife much differently.

“You know,” the other version of her began to speak, “all of these years I wondered if you were ever going to find out. You’ve been at war with yourself and with me for most of your life, and it hurt me to watch you get hurt over and over again,” she said. “When you met Daredevil though, everything changed and for the first time, I had hope. I had hope for both of us, and I tried to guide you in the right direction. I admit, I used a little too much tough love at times, and I might have freaked you out a little, but in the end, I think things worked out fine. I mean, if we ignore the fact that you almost died and might still actually die…”

She snorted.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m you, and being you is a full-time job. But I realized, you don’t actually need my help or my guidance. You need a voice of reason, yes, but you can finally become your own now that you know who you are. I have realized,” she halted, “that you don’t need me anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Eliza asked.

“It means that my job here is finally done.”

“So you’re just going to leave?” She raised her eyebrows. “You never even explained to me who you truly are.”

“Because the truth is, I can’t. I can’t explain it to you. Do you know why? Because I don’t exactly have an identity. I’ve been in your head since you were born. I grew up with you. I am you, I’m your voice of reason, your moral compass, and for a while, during your time at Hydra, I was locked in a cage. You never paid attention to me, pushed me away because deep down, you were always a little scared of the truth, so when Hydra returned and you had the opportunity to rethink things…”

“I finally realized that you’ve been in my head all along,” she finished. Rolling her eyes, she added, “Of course. Everything leads back to my inability to deal with my own feelings.”

“No,” her double shook her head, “You’ve just been detached from your true nature for so long, you’ve built brick walls around you. What you’re going through now,” she told her, “is like learning to walk again, but don’t worry, it’s in your blood. You will get into it in no time.”

Eliza lowered her head, chuckling in the direction of the soft beige sand. “You’re quite nice when you’re not insulting me.”

“Aw, thanks.”

“I’m gonna miss your voice in my head, which sounds weird now that I’ve said it, but that doesn’t make it any less true,” she said. “You’ve given me so much guidance in the past few days, I don’t know what I’m gonna do when you’re no longer there.”

“Listen to your gut.”

“My gut is often wrong.”

“You will learn how to figure stuff out along the way. You always do.”

“See, you say that but I don’t really believe you.”

“That’s not something I can change,” she said with a shrug. “You just have to believe in yourself, I guess. That’s the only way you can learn how to trust yourself. And that will make things so much easier.”

Eliza stopped her when she tried to turn away. “What if I don’t make it?” she asked.

“You have to. There is a whole new life waiting for you out there, people who love you, people who are worried sick for you, and it’s not time for you to leave just yet. Me, on the other hand…” she stepped back, freeing herself from the hold she had on her.

She watched her walk away slowly. In the distance, a woman joined her. She took the young woman into her arms.

“Mom?” she wondered out loud.

The two turned to Eliza, the space between them making it harder to make out any specific details, but her gut told her that it was her.

“You know that this is torture, right?”

She grinned knowingly. “You’re going to be fine,” her double told her.

“What if I want to stay, huh?” Eliza challenged. She dared to walk toward them. “What if I don’t want to go back? What if…”

The woman was her mother. The closer she came, the clearer her face got. She looked older, with a few more wrinkles on her face, and her perfectly shiny hair started to gray, but it was undoubtedly her.

She laughed at the sight, her chest blooming with a mixture of sadness and relief. Tears sprung into her eyes.

“What if I want to go back to my mom?” she said.

Her double shrugged. “Look at this place! Is this really where you want to stay for the rest of your life?”

“Maybe, I don’t!”

Guinevere stepped forward. Her white blouse swayed in the wind, the sand catching onto the hem of her baggy jeans. They even had the same taste in clothing. It wasn’t fair. Eliza felt as if everything she had ever wanted was in front of her, yet too far out of reach. Going back into the real world didn’t seem as lucrative as it used to. She could be happy at the beach with her mother by her side, and nothing could hurt her anymore. She could close the last chapter of her book and dive into the epilogue.

Her mother shook her head, reading her mind solely from looking at her face. “Darling,” she spoke softly, “It’s not time yet.”

No matter how fast she ran, the distance didn’t shrink. She was still too far away.

The waves crashed into her ankles. Eliza stopped and sighed. Her attempts were of no use. She was never going to reach her. This wasn’t her paradise. Alina would be laid to rest here, not her. She was a new person, she wasn’t the little girl her father handed off to Hydra anymore, and neither was she Guinevere’s daughter. She gave birth to Alina, but she was long gone. Eliza took the new identity for a reason. She had never felt more detached from her past self than she did at that moment. Finding herself had never been about getting her old life back, it had been about getting closure, about understanding where she came from and who she was, and she knew now. She remembered.

The double wasn’t her, it was Alina, and she had survived only for so long because Eliza didn’t let the truth anywhere near her. Now her job was done and it was time to let her go. It was more of a metaphorical funeral than a real one because the voice in her head had only ever been real to her.

Eliza was whole again, not because she was someone else but because she learned to accept who she had become. She could finally start a new chapter of her life, if only she managed to survive. Alina would join her mother and when it was time, she would die and return to her old self and her mother and things would be just fine. She just had to keep her hope intact.

She wiped her tears with her sleeves. “I miss you,” she whimpered. “It’s not fair.”

“You’re right, it’s not fair,” her mother cooed. “And I so wish I could touch you right now to see the kind of remarkable woman you’ve become. But it’s far too soon for you to die. You’re too young, you have so much more left to do. As much as I’d love holding my daughter in my arms again,” she smiled, “It’d be selfish of me to take you away from the people who love you and are still alive.”

“Is this real, at least?”

“If you want it to be.”

“No, I need to know. Is this what I’m going to find once I’m dead? Is this what heaven looks like?”

The beach sounded like the perfect place to rest, her garden of Eden. But she would have also settled for a cabin in the woods or a snow castle. Either way, if she could be with her mother again, death seemed a little less damning.

Guinevere chuckled again. “Don’t you need to believe in God for heaven to become real?” she said.

Oh, they were so alike. The smart comebacks, the snark, everything reminded her of herself.

“I wish I could have gotten the chance to grow up with you,” Eliza said. She rubbed her eyes again, trying her hardest to stop the emotions from flowing out. “I always wondered what my mom was like, and I used to tell myself that you would’ve been awful if you’d survived, but I was so wrong… I just wish you would have had more time to be my mom.”

The woman was fighting back tears of her own. “There is not a second that goes by where I don’t wish the same thing,” she said. “That’s why I can’t let you stay. You deserve the time with your loved ones that I didn’t get.”

She had a point.

“How are you holding up, darling, otherwise?”

“I met a boy,” she sniffed. “You would have liked him.”

“Is he good to you?”

“The best.”

“Then I already really like him.”

“He’s probably the only reason I can’t stay here. God knows I want to, but you’re right, it’s not time yet,” Eliza said. She peeked over her shoulder to see the door once again wide open for her.

Guinevere followed her gaze knowingly. “You better use your second chance wisely,” she said. She meant to tease, but her words sounded more serious than jokingly.

“I’m so confused as to what I’m supposed to do now.”

“Wake up.”

“How do I do that?”

“There’s a door, find a way out.”

Hand in hand with her double, Guinevere stepped into the light.

Eliza stared off into the vastness of the ocean. Waking up sounded so easy, but she wasn’t even sure how she got there in the first place, so getting out sounded like a bit of a struggle.

She chose to revel in the feel of the salty ocean breeze on her skin a little longer, allow the sun to brown her skin, and breathe in the fresh air. She listened to the waves strum their native tune against the dunes. The beach, if void of any humans, is a beautiful and serene place to be.

Instead of darkness, light haunted her this time. But not the kind of light that had swallowed her double, it was a different kind of light. This light forced her to close her eyes as it became blinding. She finally began to return to her body.

Opening her eyes was more exhausting than closing them. She had to fight her way out of nothing into the world. Eventually, she could feel her limbs again, and with her limbs came the awareness of the heavy weight on her chest, the drumming of her heart, and the air in her lungs that came just a little harder than before, but the nasal cannulas supplied her with just enough oxygen to make the rise and fall of her lungs worthwhile.

Her entire body was sore. She was still too dizzy to realize the full extent of her injuries. The weight on her chest didn’t seem to be part of it though. Someone was holding her hands, hair tickling the bare skin around her collarbones. She could smell the traces of blood and sweat close to her face.

Her mouth opened, the air dry. She licked over the cracked skin of her lips. How long had she been out? She was parched.

Her eyes fluttered open. Thankfully, the light in the room had been simmered down to a soft yellow, and the monitor next to her head wasn’t beeping, only showing the zig-zag lines indicating her heart rate. The ceiling blurred at first, so she blinked again. Even her eyelids seemed to weigh tons.

Eliza breathed in. The action made enough noise to cause the weight on her chest to shift, then shoot you completely.

She thought about what she was going to say, even made a plan for how to say it once she woke up. In the end, her mind completely blacked out and all that came out of her mouth was,

“Ugh, I need coffee.”

Because of course, coffee should be anybody’s number one priority after almost dying.

8 notes · View notes

letsthinkdigital · 8 months ago

Text

Lecture Diary 2

So for this week, we talked about different ways people have reinvented old tech to make better and more sustainable tech. From using VR to create 3D Models to Hydroelectric power reinventing already existing tech is one of the best ways for us to progress while also reducing and recycling products so we can use less and be better for our planet. Something we talked about was 3D printers and the filaments that are used for them now there’s no sure-fire way to deal with the the plastic issue since once you make something with a 3D printer you really can’t recycle it at all after that. But, there is a way to turn bottles marked with a 1; PET bottles (Polyethylene Terephthalate plastic bottles) into 3D printer Filament. It’s one of the best materials for 3D prints that you need to be really strong. How the process works is that you first need to find PET plastic, It’s the one that’s marked with the number one and it’s also one of the most recyclable plastics out there. Then you cut it into a strip now first you want to start with scissors but then you can put it through a special type of cutting tool that will cut the bottle for you as you simply pull it through and wind it onto a spool.

After you have it on a spool you can start pulling it through the filament machine with pliers till it is long enough to reach the larger filament spool. Then you simply attach it to the spool and let the machine run.

I really like the thought of reusing plastic since it is one of the main contributors to the pollution problem facing our world. It’s in our best interest to try and reduce the amount of plastics used and to recycle the ones currently being used. And I think this is a step in the right direction!

Also, one other thing we talked about in class that I wanna go off on before the other parts of this post, Kniterate; is a machine that you can use to make your own fabrics. I would love to use this machine and get to know its full potential.

BUT AIN’T NO WAY I AM GONNA PAY £15,999.00 FOR SOMETHING LIKE THIS.

It’s a great product but, I am a poor college student T^T so no experimenting with fabric printers and PET bottles in the near future that’s for sure.

In other news

We also had homework to read and take notes on an essay called “Anatomy of AI System”. I think this was an interesting read and that it was a bit eye-opening on the process of how things like Alexa’s and Google Home systems are made. I also really like that it mentioned the folk tales of the place of origin for Lithium that was pretty cool. Something else of note is that in the essay it is pointed out that we are still training AI with stereotypical actions such as men kicking and being violent and women caring for children. So it’s safe to say that AI is still pretty biased in its view of the world but that’s only because we as humans and creators have yet to teach the opposite of that.

I think when it comes down to it my argument on AI is this, as it stands AI is a tool that we as humans can use to better not only our understanding of the world but of ourselves. We can sit there and get mad about AI all we want.

I have heard people say time and time again tirelessly that AI is going to take over creative jobs and ruin the art world. And while yes things are going to change and the art world will never be the same now that AI is around we aren’t going to lose our jobs to it. If anything AI can be used to make our jobs simpler and faster. The thing that I think of constantly is just how long it takes for me to get a reference image for a position I am trying to draw a character in. By myself with my talent, years of practice, years of studying human anatomy/forms, a four-year art degree under my belt, and the understanding of proper sketching techniques; all of this and I still at times just can’t get the pose the way I see it in my mind. So I use the other tools at my disposal, I try to mimic the pose myself, I go online for hours and try to find a reference image of a pose that is even slightly similar, and I even commission models hoping they can give me the reference that I need. But that’s if you can commission people that’s IF they can even produce the pose you’re looking for. Sometimes you’re S.O.L. and have no other choice at your disposal. Do you know what would have helped from the very beginning? Having a reference image

Close enough to the pose and an AI to make the person slightly in whatever direction you need to get exactly what you’re looking for. Yes AI is very good at making its OWN art and YES people are going to use it for nefarious reasons but, it will be much more useful to us if we let it progress with our art forms. I think AI is going to be a very useful thing as we continue on. I mean it’s already here after all… what other choice do we have other than complain about it?

0 notes

pesterloglog · 1 year ago

Text

John Egbert, Karkat Vantas

Act 5, page 3864-3872

TT: vriska, wait!

TT: oops, hold on.

tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering arachnidsGrip [AG]

ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering arachnidsGrip [AG]

EB: hey, are you there?

EB: i did what you said...

EB: but i can't tell if it worked.

EB: hello?

EB: you didn't fly off to fight jack yet, did you?

EB: i hope not.

EB: anyway, all that stuff you said sounds fun to me, i have hells of the cage flicks in my library.

EB: i do not even care that you're an alien! you see, cage is the universal constant which unites us all.

EB: well...

EB: if you haven't flown away...

EB: i will look forward to your message in the future.

EB: it would be nice to talk, about...

EB: all this stuff that happened.

EB: anyway, bye.

AG: OH GOD.

EB: hey!

AG: OH MY FUCKING HELL, THIS IS SO INSANELY AWKWARD AND SAD.

EB: what is???

AG: HANG ON

arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB]

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB]

CG: HEY.

EB: karkat!

EB: that was you?

EB: where is vriska?

CG: SHE

EB: she what?

CG: SHIT

CG: I FEEL LIKE AN ASSHOLE FOR READING THIS WHOLE THING.

EB: what whole thing?

EB: you mean, what she wrote?

CG: YEAH

EB: why are you snooping around her computer!

CG: BECAUSE

CG: WOW OK

CG: SO LET ME ASK.

CG: DID YOU BOTH ACTUALLY LIKE EACH OTHER.

EB: um...

CG: LIKE I MEAN SOMETHING VAGUELY RESEMBLING ACTUAL GENUINE MUTUAL SENTIMENT OR WHATEVER, NOT SOME LOPSIDED PINING BULLSHIT.

EB: what are you talking about?

CG: DID YOU LIKE HER, YOU WINDSOCK HEADED SHITMOUTH.

CG: IS WHAT I'M ASKING

EB: well...

EB: yeah. why?

CG: OK

CG: THAT'S FINE

CG: THEN

CG: WE'LL TALK ABOUT IT LATER.

EB: talk about what?

CG: I NEED YOU TO BE ABLE TO THINK STRAIGHT.

CG: WE HAVE IMPORTANT SHIT TO GO OVER, AND I DON'T HAVE MUCH TIME.

EB: alright.

EB: like what?

CG: PLANS.

EB: what plans?

CG: NEVER MIND THAT. FIRST, GET OUT OF THE FUCKING BLACKOUT TO A PLACE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU.

CG: LEAVE NOW, I'LL CONTACT YOU IN A WHILE, ONCE YOU'VE LANDED.

EB: landed where?

CG: LOHAC. OBVIOUSLY.

EB: oh, obviously.

CG: WELL HOW ELSE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING TO CAUSE THE SCRATCH, IDIOT.

CG: DO YOU EVEN HAVE ANY CLUE WHAT'S GOING ON?

CG: WAIT, OF COURSE YOU DON'T, YOU ARE WEARING PAJAMAS AND GIGGLING AT CLOUDS LIKE EACH ONE WAS SHAPED LIKE THE RUDEST BIT OF NAKED ANATOMY A HUMAN CAN RECOGNIZE.

EB: no i'm not!

EB: i mean, yes, i am wearing some pretty nice pajamas.

EB: but i know lots of things, like about the tumor, which i have already recovered...

EB: wait, i mean the tumor

EB: wait, fuck.

EB: i mean...

EB: oh screw it, you know, the big bomb, and some other stuff like that, i am totally in the loop.

CG: GREAT, AWESOME, NOW GET GOING.

EB: so i have to cause the scratch, huh?

CG: OK, I'M DONE HERE. TALK TO YOU IN ONE SECOND FOR ME, ONE LONG WINDY FUCKING JOURNEY FOR YOU.

carcinoGeneticist [CG] ceased trolling ectoBiologist [EB]

carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB]

CG: OK

EB: hi!

CG: LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS.

EB: aren't you going to ask me how my journey was?

CG: NO.

EB: it was long! and windy. but a lot of fun.

EB: i really like flying, it's so much fun.

CG: OH, I BET IT IS JUST THE BIGGEST FUCKING BLAST A GUY CAN HAVE WITHOUT A PAIR OF SHAME GLOBES SECURED IN HIS TWO TREMBLING FISTS.

EB: you... haven't tried it?

CG: EVERY DOUCHE GOT TO FLY BUT ME, EVEN THE CRIPPLE.

CG: MAY HE REST IN PEACE, I FUCKING GUESS.

EB: :\

EB: wait, is that the guy who vriska killed?

CG: OH GOD, YOU ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT THAT?

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT, I GIVE THE FUCK UP TRYING TO UNDERSTAND YOU AND HER.

EB: haha, why?

CG: EGBERT, GOD DAMNIT. WILL YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND LISTEN?

EB: ok.

EB: but...

EB: is something wrong?

CG: WHAT

EB: a while ago you talked to me and it sounded like you were in danger, and it sounds like some people died, but you never told me what happened!

EB: then i got distracted by a lot of crazy stuff.

CG: YEAH, SOMETHING IS WRONG

CG: OR, WAS.

CG: A BUNCH OF US DIED, THE END.

CG: I DON'T REALLY WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.

EB: oh.

EB: are you sure?

CG: YES, AND NOT JUST BECAUSE, OH, THE CLOCK IS RAPIDLY TICKING DOWN TO SOMETHING WE'RE CALLING THE CRITICAL MOMENT, AND NO, I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS, SO CLOSE YOUR REEKING QUESTION GEYSER BEFORE IT ASKS.

EB: but, i'm your friend. aren't i?

CG: OH GOD.

EB: well?

CG: JOHN, I CAN'T HANDLE TALKING ABOUT IT, OK.

CG: I JUST GOT DONE

CG: UH

CG: DEALING WITH GAMZEE

CG: AND I'M FEELING PRETTY EMOTIONAL ABOUT IT. SO PLEASE, NO.

EB: who is gamzee?

CG: HE WAS MY BEST FRIEND.

EB: really? i thought terezi was your best friend.

EB: or wait, maybe she was your girlfriend, i forget...

CG: MY THINK PAN, IT HURTS

CG: IT IS PRESENTLY THREATENING TO MAKE ME ITS BITCH, JOHN. IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?

CG: DO YOU WANT YOUR COOL ALIEN PAL TO BECOME THE BITCH OF A RAW, THROBBING THINK PAN?????

CG: SUCH IS THE SCENARIO BEFORE US.

EB: sorry, i don't mean to be nosy. i just want to know some things about your situation!

EB: i am concerned.

CG: GAMZEE WAS MY VERY GOOD FRIEND, WHO WAS THIS GOOFY LOVEABLE BULLSHIT CLOWN UNTIL HE WENT PSYCHO AND KILLED SOME PEOPLE. I LIKED HIM A LOT.

CG: I DON'T KNOW, I GUESS MY BEST FRIEND IS REALLY JUST THE GUY WHO I HAPPEN TO BE FEELING MOST SENTIMENTAL TO AT THE MOMENT, IS THAT A FUCKING CRIME.

EB: heh, no.

EB: i think i know how you feel.

EB: so he killed some people... and then what?

CG: SO THEN I

EB: it's ok, you can tell me.

CG: JOHN, TRUST ME. YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND.

CG: IT'S JUST A TROLL THING, HUMANS WOULDN'T GET IT.

CG: YOU MIGHT THINK I WAS A SHIT HEAD, AND I CAN'T DEAL WITH THAT NOW ON TOP OF EVERYTHING, SO LET'S DROP IT.

EB: hmm.

EB: ok, if you say so.

EB: oh!!!

EB: i can't believe i almost forgot, i've been dying to know since i left the battlefield...

EB: do you know if rose is ok?

EB: did it work???

CG: SHE'S FINE.

CG: SHE WOKE UP ALIVE ON DERSE.

EB: really??

CG: THAT'S THE RULE, JOHN. YOU KISS A DEAD PLAYER IN TIME, AND THEIR DREAM SELF TAKES OVER, ASSUMING THEY STILL HAVE ONE.

EB: oh, wow.

CG: IT'S INCREDIBLE YOU REACHED GOD TIER STATUS WITHOUT EVEN UNDERSTANDING THE MORE MUNDANE MEANS OF RESURRECTION AVAILABLE.

CG: WAIT, YOUR UNFAILING CLUELESSNESS MAKES IT THE OPPOSITE OF INCREDIBLE, MY MISTAKE.

EB: so, i guess...

EB: it would not have worked on my dad then?

EB: or rose's mom... :(

CG: NO, BUT THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED TO PICTURE HAPPENING BEHIND THE BLACK CURTAIN, JOHN.

CG: YOU SNOGGING UP YOUR DEAD HATTED MAN LUSUS. THANK YOU FOR THAT MENTAL IMAGE.

CG: OR ROSE'S ADULT WOMAN LUSUS. MAYBE A DEAD WOMAN SWEEPS YOUR SENIOR IS MORE YOUR CUP OF SAUCE, SINCE APPARENTLY YOU ARE "NOT A HOMOSEXUAL", WHATEVER THAT EVEN MEANS, NOT EVEN TO SPEAK OF YOUR RACE'S ABSURD QUALMS WITH THE NOTION OF INCEST, WHICH AGAIN, STILL SORT OF WONDERING HOW THAT CAN EVEN BE A THING.

EB: er...

CG: IS THAT YOUR GAME, EGBERT. HAVE YOU HAD YOUR EYE ON MADAME LALONDE, AND YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR A CONVENIENT RESURRECTION OPPORTUNITY TO BUST OUT YOUR MOST PASSIONATE SMOOCHMOTIFS KEPT IN RESERVE? AND IN FRONT OF HER DEAD FEMALE "OFFSPRING" NO LESS! JUST SHAMEFUL.

EB: well...

EB: she is a very pretty lady, but that seems like a really inappropriate thing to think about, karkat.

CG: YOU DON'T SAY!

CG: WHAT ARE WE EVEN TALKING ABOUT ANYMORE

EB: i don't know!

EB: i am frankly pretty upset about finding them dead in the magic castle, and i guess i was wondering aloud if something could have been done.

EB: or at least maybe to talk about it, without angry tirades being involved.

CG: EXACTLY, YOU WERE EMBARKING DOWN TRAGEDY LANE, AND WE'VE GOT TO STAMP THAT GARBAGE OUT.

CG: WE CAN'T HAVE YOU GETTING ALL MOROSE WHILE WE'VE GOT SO MANY IRONS IN THE FIRE.

CG: FUCK, LOADED PHRASE, FORGET I SAID THAT.

CG: JUST CLAM YOUR SHIT UP AND FORGET YOUR STUPID GUARDIAN, LIKE I DID WITH MY DEAR CRAB MONSTER CUSTODIAN, WHO I ADORED IN NO WAY WHATSOEVER.

EB: you are being a douche!!!

EB: wait, what am i saying, you are always a douche, hehe.

CG: YES, THANK YOU.

EB: heheheheh, your dad was a crab monster?

CG: SHUT THE FUCK UP.

CG: WE WERE TALKING ABOUT SOMETHING IMPORTANT.

CG: ROSE, REMEMBER.

EB: yes.

CG: SHE IS WAITING ON DERSE FOR YOUR BOMB TO BE DELIVERED.

CG: IT WILL ARRIVE SAFELY, A LITTLE LATER.

EB: oh, great!

EB: how do you know it gets there?

CG: JADE TOLD ME.

CG: JADE FROM FURTHER AHEAD ON YOUR TIMELINE.

CG: BEFORE MY PIECE OF SHIT CLOWN-BRO MADE EVERYTHING TERRIBLE HERE, SHE AND I WERE HAMMERING OUT THESE PLANS.

CG: I TALKED TO HER ACROSS PRETTY MUCH THE FULL SPREAD OF HER TIMELINE, UNTIL THE SCRATCH STARTS AND THE FEED CUTS OUT.

CG: SO I HAVE A SENSE OF THE WHOLE PICTURE HERE, AND IT'S MY JOB NOW TO PUT SOME THINGS INTO MOTION.

EB: that's cool!

EB: it's nice to hear you are working together. i should pester jade and see what she's up too...

CG: YOU SHOULD SIT YOUR ASS TIGHT AND DO THE FUCK WHAT I TELL YOU THE FUCK TO FUCKING DO.

EB: oh...

CG: ANYWAY, SHE AND DAVE DO A LOT OF FROG BREEDING, ACCELERATING THE PROCESS SIGNIFICANTLY BY EXPLOITING TIME TRAVEL, WITH HELP FROM ME AND KANAYA, SINCE WE WERE IN CHARGE OF FROG DUTIES IN OUR SESSION.

EB: frog duties???

EB: wait, which one is kanaya again?

CG: DON'T INTERRUPT, I AM FOLLOWING A TRAIN OF THOUGHT.

CG: OK, KANAYA IS MY OTHER BEST FRIEND, AND SHE WAS THE HERO OF SPACE LIKE JADE WHICH MEANS SHE'S THE STOKER OF THE FORGE AND IS BASICALLY IN CHARGE OF FROGS, WHICH SOUNDS RETARDED, I KNOW. YOU BREED THE RIGHT FROG TO MAKE THE UNIVERSE YOU WANT TO MAKE, WHICH IS A LONG ARDUOUS PROCESS AND I KIND OF FUCKED IT UP IN MY GAME, BUT THAT'S A WHOLE OTHER STORY WHICH I'LL GET TO LATER, OK?

EB: wow. ok.

CG: SHE AND DAVE RAN INTO JACK, WHICH I'M SURE HE MUST HAVE SAW COMING BECAUSE I'VE NEVER SEEN ANYONE EXPLOIT TIME TRAVEL SO SHAMELESSLY AS HIM, NOT EVEN ARADIA.

EB: aradia?

CG: JUST ANOTHER DEAD TROLL, WHO CARES.

EB: :(

CG: STOP FROWNING, SHE WAS ALREADY DEAD BEFORE SHE DIED.

EB: ...

EB: :(

CG: SO SHE AND DAVE FOUGHT WITH HIM A WHILE, AND LONG STORY SHORT, HE DIED.

EB: what!!!

CG: BUT IT'S FINE, I GUESS THAT WAS HIS PLAN, LIKE SOME BIZARRE USELESS LAST STAND, EVEN IF HE DIDN'T TELL JADE WHO WAS PRETTY FREAKED OUT UNTIL I TALKED HER THROUGH IT.

EB: did she kiss him too? :O

CG: YEAH.

CG: RIGHT THERE, WHILE JACK WATCHED LIKE A FUCKING CREEP.

CG: BUT IT WORKED.

EB: omg, karkat. it is like your shitty shipping grid is coming true before our very eyes.

EB: haha, remember when you made that ugly thing?

CG: WHO GIVES A FUCK ABOUT SHIPPING, OR MY LUDICROUS STRANGLEHOLD OVER ALL TOPICS CONCERNING ROMANCE, I'M STILL TALKING.

CG: HE WOKE UP ALIVE ON DERSE, AND MET WITH ROSE.

CG: THAT WAS THE END OF THE LINE FOR ALPHA DAVE. TO MY KNOWLEDGE, HE DOESN'T TIME TRAVEL AFTER THAT, AND HE AND ROSE STAY ON DERSE WAITING FOR THE BOMB UNTIL YOU START THE SCRATCH. BUT I CAN'T SEE EITHER OF THEM BECAUSE OF THE BLACKOUT LINGERING AROUND ROSE FOR WHATEVER REASON. NOBODY KNOWS WHAT'S UP WITH THAT.

CG: REGARDLESS, HIS JOB IS TO PLOT A COURSE THROUGH THE RING TO FIND THE SUN.

CG: WHEN HE DOES, EITHER HE OR ROSE WILL DELIVER THE BOMB.

CG: I DON'T KNOW WHICH.

EB: but now they don't have dream selves left!

EB: who ever goes will be risking their life for good, won't they?

CG: THAT WOULD BE THE LOGICAL EXTENSION OF THOSE FACTS, YES.

EB: this is unacceptable!

EB: couldn't i do it?

EB: i am apparently immortal, because of this god tier business, so the bomb probably would not kill me!

CG: OK, BUT DON'T YOU THINK THERE'S A REMOTE POSSIBILITY THAT GOING ON A SUICIDE MISSION TO SAVE ALL OF REALITY WOULD COUNT AS A HEROIC DEATH?

EB: hmm...

EB: maybe i could try to be not all that brave while i do it?

CG: YOU ASSHOLE, OF COURSE YOU'D BE BRAVE. THAT TENDS TO BE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU DO SOMETHING REALLY FUCKING COURAGEOUS.

EB: yeah.

EB: i just don't want to lose anybody else is all.

CG: THAT'S JUST HOW IT IS. I'VE LOST FRIENDS FOR WAY MORE POINTLESS REASONS. YOU'RE ALL OUT OF OPTIONS HERE.

CG: YOU'D BE RISKING DEATH JUST AS MUCH AS THEY WOULD, AND THEY'RE BETTER QUALIFIED TO HANDLE THE MISSION AS THE DERSE DREAMERS.

CG: JADE'S DREAM SELF IS DEAD TOO, SO SHE'S OUT. OR TO BE MORE SPECIFIC, HER DREAM SELF IS AN OVERLY EMOTIONAL DOG WHO WENT OFF WHIMPERING SOMEWHERE. I'M PRETTY SURE SHE WILL BE COMPLETELY USELESS.

EB: oh, yeah.

EB: she mentioned something about that. she said she prototyped her dream self?? what happened with that?

CG: SHE DOESN'T LIKE TO TALK ABOUT IT. KIND OF A SORE SUBJECT.

EB: why?

CG: SHE THINKS SHE'S SELFISH AND COMPLETELY HYSTERICAL AND I GUESS HATES THE PART OF HERSELF SHE REPRESENTS.

CG: BUT I MEAN, THE THING IS SHE SPENT A LONG TIME BEING DEAD AND MOVING ON, IT'S NOT LIKE YOU CAN JUST BRING SOMEBODY BACK AND EXPECT THEM TO GIVE A SHIT ABOUT ALL THE STUFF YOU THINK IS IMPORTANT.

CG: I'VE TRIED TO TELL HER THAT HER SPRITE SELF IS PROBABLY NOWHERE NEAR AS DESPICABLE AS SHE'S MAKING OUT WITH HERSELF TO BE.

CG: I MEAN

CG: MAKING HERSELF OUT TO BE.

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.

EB: ...

CG: LOOK, I'M JUST SAYING

CG: WE'VE ALL GOT FLAWS, EVEN HER

CG: AND FOR ALL THE SHIT SHE'S GIVEN ME ON THIS VERY SUBJECT, SHE KEEPS HERSELF DANGLING FROM A VERY HIGH HOOK.

CG: SHE'D BE DOING ME A MAJOR PERSONAL SOLID BY MAKING AT LEAST SOME ATTEMPT TO GET HERSELF OFF.

CG: WAIT

CG: FUCK

CG: WHAT DID I JUST SAY

EB: wow.

CG: I MEANT LET HERSELF OFF.

CG: THE HOOK. THE FUCKING HOOK, IT'S A FIGURE OF GODDAMN SPEECH.

EB: /raises eyebrows

CG: PUT THOSE THE BACK DOWN, BEFORE MY HOT ACID RAGEBREATH BURNS THEM OFF YOUR IDIOTIC FACE.

EB: ok, i am putting them back down as not suggestively as possible.

CG: WHAT WERE WE EVEN TALKING ABOUT, IT WASN'T THIS, WHATEVER THIS IS.

EB: what is what this is?

CG: IT'S NOTHING, YOU SHIT. IT HAS BEEN THE CONVERSATIONAL EQUIVALENT OF US WHISTLING THROUGH OUR SNORT BARRELS WHILE TOUCHING EACH OTHER INAPPROPRIATELY.

EB: was...

EB: was that another weird erotic slip of the tongue?

CG: NO, THAT WAS ME BEING WORKED UP INTO THIS RIDICULOUS FUCKING CONNIPTION AND SAYING SOMETHING INFLAMMATORY, GOD. HOW DOES THAT NOT BE CLEAR BY NOW???

EB: ok, well,

EB: what i am getting from this, aside from the possibility that jade may or may not have kissed dog jade at some point, is that neither of them will be able to help with the bomb plan.

CG: THAT'S EXACTLY RIGHT! THE PAJAMA PRODIGY USED HIS PUZZLE SPONGE TODAY.

CG: BESIDES, JADE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR OTHER IMPORTANT PARTS OF THE PLAN.

CG: FOR ONE THING, YOU'LL HAVE TO WAIT FOR HER TO SEND YOU THE CODE FOR THE QUILLS.

CG: YOU CAN'T SCRATCH THE MESA WITHOUT THEM.

CG: SHE GOT THEM FROM HER DENIZEN, OR WILL LATER ON HER TIMELINE, NOW THAT SHE LIT THE FORGE AND WOKE THE MONSTER UP.

EB: aren't those the really tough to kill guys?

CG: YEAH

EB: did she kill him?

CG: HELL IF I KNOW, HER EXPLANATION OF THE ENTIRE ENCOUNTER BOILED DOWN TO AND I QUOTE "shenanigans"

CG: LIMED FOR INFURIATINGLY VAGUE.

EB: haha.

CG: ANYWAY, AFTER SHE GIVES THAT TO YOU, SHE THEN HAS TO GO THROUGH WITH THE REST OF THE PLAN, WHICH IS MAKING SURE YOU ALL SURVIVE AFTER THE SCRATCH, MINUS ONE OF THE DERSE DREAMERS OF COURSE.

CG: THE PLAN REVOLVES AROUND SOME REALLY BAFFLING HAND WAVEY MUMBO JUMBO WHICH I DON'T REALLY UNDERSTAND, BUT SHE TOLD ME TO TRUST HER ABOUT IT BECAUSE THE INFO COMES FROM A "Reliable informant."

CG: WHITENED FOR SMUG TOOL.

CG: IT INVOLVES SOMETHING TO DO WITH A YELLOW LAWN RING.

CG: WHICH ISN'T THE HUMAN WORD FOR IT, IT'S JUST YOUR WORD IS SO DUMB I FEEL DUMB SAYING IT.

EB: word for what?

CG: I GUESS YOUR ENTIRE ESCAPE PLAN SOMEHOW PIVOTS CRITICALLY AROUND AN UNWATERED PIECE OF RESIDENTIAL PROPERTY???

CG: IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT IT MEANS. JADE SAYS SHE HAS THIS FIGURED OUT, AND I DON'T HAVE TIME TO DO MUCH BUT TRUST HER.

CG: THE POINT IS, SHE'S ALL BOOKED UP, AND ALL TOO MORTAL. SO SHE WON'T BE DELIVERING THE BOMB, AND NEITHER WILL YOU.

EB: ok, well what about this.

EB: since she is mortal, and i am not (sort of), and i don't need to do the scratch for a while, can i go help her?

EB: maybe she could use some protection? maybe that is what dave was just trying to do, when he temporarily died.

EB: remember, jack is still on the loose! he has killed rose and dave once, and me twice.

CG: NO NO NO NO NO NO.

CG: SWEET BLEEDING JEGUS, EGBERT, YOU KEEP BRAGGING ABOUT YOUR IMMORTALITY, AND THEN BRAINLESSLY ANNOUNCE PLANS TO GO OFF AND DO SOMETHING HEROIC! YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE THE SHORTEST LIFESPAN OF ANY IMMORTAL IN HISTORY.

EB: sorry. :(

CG: BESIDES, IT'S A TOTAL NON ISSUE. JACK WOULDN'T HESITATE TO STAB YOU AGAIN, BUT HE WON'T HURT JADE FOR SOME REASON.

CG: IF ANYTHING, YOU COULD USE HER PROTECTION.

EB: really?

CG: I NEVER NOTICED WHEN LOOKING THROUGH HER TIMELINE EARLIER. IT WASN'T UNTIL I WAS TALKING TO HER IN THOSE TIMEFRAMES AND SHE TOLD ME. HE JUST KEEPS FOLLOWING HER AROUND. I CAN SEE HIM OFF IN THE DISTANCE IN SOME FRAMES, JUST LURKING THERE, SHADOWING HER MOVEMENTS. IT'S INCREDIBLY DISTURBING.

CG: HE LINGERS AROUND HER UNTIL THE SCRATCH BEGINS AND I LOSE THE FEED, NEVER ONCE DOING ANYTHING THREATENING. SHE SAYS SHE THINKS IT'S BECAUSE JACK INHERITED LOYALTY OF HER LUSUS.

CG: IF SHE'S RIGHT, I GUESS HER LUSUS REALLY DID OFFER HER THE MOST PROTECTION POSSIBLE BY PROTOTYPING ITSELF, ALBEIT BY DOOMING US ALL. THE IDIOT.

EB: d'aw, that's actually kinda cute.

CG: SADLY, HE HOLDS NO SUCH LOYALTY TO ANY OF US HERE. HE REGARDS US ALL AS RIPE FOR THE REPEATED SKEWERING.

CG: OH FUCK, MAYBE WE SHOULD HAVE ALL JUST DRESSED LIKE JADE?? I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS STROKE OF GENIUS ONLY OCCURRED TO ME NOW.

EB: i don't think he would be fooled. dogs have pretty good senses of smell.

CG: IT WAS

CG: A MOTHERFUCKING

CG: JOKE

CG: ANYWAY, IT DOESN'T MATTER ANYMORE.

CG: IF WE CAN RIDE THIS OUT FOR A LITTLE LONGER UNTIL THE CRITICAL MOMENT, AND DAVE/ROSE CAN DESTROY THE SUN, JACK SHOULDN'T BE A THREAT.

CG: CONVENIENTLY, IF THEY'RE SUCCESSFUL, THAT WILL SIGNAL THE BEGINNING OF OUR OWN ESCAPE PLAN.

EB: what is your plan?

CG: APPARENTLY THE EXPLOSION WILL BE SO HUGE, IT WILL BE VISIBLE AT GREAT DISTANCES THROUGHOUT THE FURTHEST RING.

CG: EVEN FROM DIFFERENT SESSIONS, LIKE YOURS AND OURS. YOU WON'T GET TO SEE IT BECAUSE BY THEN YOUR SESSION SHOULD BE WIPED OUT BY THE SCRATCH.

CG: BUT WE WILL. THE PLAN IS TO USE IT AS A BEACON, AND TRAVEL THERE AS A RENDEZVOUS POINT.

EB: rendezvous with who?

CG: WE'VE GOT PEOPLE THERE. THAT'S WHAT JADE TELLS ME.

EB: jade knows so many things lately, what is even her deal?

CG: HELL IF I KNOW, THIS IS BASICALLY DREAM INTELLIGENCE, EVERY TIME SHE GOES TO SLEEP, SHE HAS MORE TO RAMBLE ABOUT.

CG: SHE SAYS I SHOULD GO TO SLEEP TO FIND OUT, BUT I'M LIKE HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NAPPING BETWEEN MAKING ALL THESE PLANS AND GETTING PERSECUTED BY THIS DEMENTED HONKING ASSHOLE?

CG: SO YEAH, WE'LL MEET IN THE AFTERMATH OF THE EXPLOSION WITH OUR PEOPLE ON THE INSIDE, OR I GUESS I SHOULD SAY OUTSIDE.

CG: I DON'T THINK THEY CAN COME WITH US THOUGH.

EB: come with you where? who are they?

CG: DEAD PEOPLE.

CG: AS FOR WHERE, IT'S NOT LIKE WE'RE GOING TO STICK AROUND THERE FOREVER. THAT WOULD PROBABLY BE DEPRESSING, SINCE WE'RE NOT FUCKING GHOSTS.

CG: THE SCRATCH WILL REBOOT YOUR SESSION. YOUR WHOLE UNIVERSE ACTUALLY. SO SOMEWHERE IN THIS DREADFUL ABYSS, THAT NEW SESSION WILL START UP IN ITS OWN INCIPISPHERE, FROM SCRATCH.

CG: LOOK AT THAT, ANOTHER PUN BECAUSE OF USING THAT FUCKING WORD EVERY OTHER SENTENCE! KILL ME NOW.

CG: BUT THAT "FROM SCRATCH" (F'ING LOL!) SESSION IS WHAT YOU'RE SHOOTING FOR TO SURVIVE.

CG: THE IDEA IS FOR YOU ALL TO PRESERVE YOURSELVES BY ESCAPING THERE.

EB: through the lawn ring?

CG: YES.

CG: ONCE YOU'RE THERE, YOU WILL HELP US FIND OUR WAY THERE TOO, AND THEN WE CAN ALL FINALLY FIGURE OUT WHAT THE FUCK TO DO WITH THE REST OF OUR LIVES.

EB: oh!!

EB: so then, this is how we're supposed to meet. that is kind of exciting.

CG: YEAH, I GUESS, IF ENOUGH OF US ARE ALIVE BY THEN TO MEET.

EB: so, i guess you are not worried about it turning into a huge sloppy makeout fest anymore...

CG: UH

CG: RIGHT! HAHAHA, JOHN, YOU AND VRISKA BETTER KEEP YOUR HANDS TO YOURSELVES, OR EVERYONE'S GOING TO BE REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE. NO INTERSPECIES FUNNYBUSINESS, IS THAT CLEAR!

CG: BLAAAAAAARGH, I AM CONVINCINGLY FLIPPING MY LID ABOUT THIS, WAVING MY ARMS AROUND A LOT, AND MAKING ALL MY BEST YELLING FACES. WOW, LOOK AT THAT! IT'S TIME TO CHANGE THE SUBJECT AGAIN.

EB: huh?

CG: POOF! SUBJECT CHANGED.

CG: IF IT WORKS AND YOU WIND UP IN THE NEW SESSION, THAT'S WHY IT'LL BE IMPORTANT TO MAKE SURE ONE OF THE DERSE DREAMERS STAYS WITH YOU, SO THEY CAN HELP GUIDE US THERE FROM THE RING.

EB: won't there be other players in the new session?

EB: like, alternate universe versions of ourselves or such?

CG: PROBABLY.

CG: BUT THOSE CHUMPS WON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT US, OR ALL OUR PLANS. WHY WOULD THEY?

EB: yeah... it's just kind of a weird thought.

CG: SO OUT OF EVERYTHING WE JUST TALKED ABOUT, THIS IS THE THING THAT HAS YOU TRIPPING GLOBES? WHATEVER YOU SAY!

EB: but i guess it's sort of comforting too.

EB: if rose or dave have to go off and die, at least i get to see them again, in a way.

EB: even if i will only be alternate universe john to them.

EB: maybe my dad will be alive in that session too!!!

CG: OK, MAYBE, BUT BEFORE YOU GET TOO EXCITED ABOUT THAT, YOU'VE GOT TO MAKE SURE YOU GET THERE FIRST.

CG: WHICH MEANS YOU HAVE TO DO WHAT I SAY, AND STICK TO THE PLAN.

CG: YOU NEED TO FOCUS ON GETTING READY TO START THE SCRATCH. THE GAME DOESN'T MAKE A HARD RESET THAT EASY TO PULL OFF.

CG: ONCE YOU INITIATE IT, THE GAME THROWS EVERYTHING IT'S GOT AT YOU. WHICH IS ONE REASON WHY YOU'RE THE BEST GUY FOR THE JOB, BECAUSE OF YOUR SUPERPOWERS AND SILLY WINDY BULLSHIT.

EB: ok. i'll do my best.

EB: what should i do right now?

CG: GET PREPARED, MAKE ALL THE EQUIPMENT YOU THINK YOU'LL NEED, STAY OUT OF TROUBLE.

CG: WAIT FOR JADE TO SEND THAT CODE, WAIT FOR ME TO CONTACT YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME, AND DO YOUR BEST TO HUMOR HIM WHILE HE IGNORANTLY ATTEMPTS TO FLAME YOU BACK INTO THE PUDDLE OF SLIME YOU CRAWLED OUT OF.

CG: PLEASE.

EB: oh, man.

EB: our "first" conversation ever? i can't wait.

CG: YEAH, BUT CAN I JUST SAY SOMETHING IN MY DEFENSE BEFORE THAT HAPPENS?

CG: I DON'T ACTUALLY HATE YOU, AND I NEVER DID. I WAS DELUDING MYSELF.

CG: DEEP DOWN I'M SURE I WAS ALWAYS PRETTY OK WITH YOU.

EB: thanks karkat!

CG: IT WASN'T A FUCKING COMPLIMENT.

#homestuck #john egbert #karkat vantas #homestuck act 5 #page 3864 #page 3865 #page 3866 #page 3867 #page 3868 #page 3869 #page 3870 #page 3871 #page 3872 #homestuck act 5 act 2

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