#[-*this'll post while I'm at work so please don't take this posting as me being online <_<;*-]

[manicrouge]

SIN CITY

[𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚁𝚞𝚜𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

[𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍]: 09/02/24

[𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝]: Rorke finds the Ghost's and you fear you're never going to see Keegan again.

[𝙲𝚠]: Major character death, violence, gore, graphic injury, hurt/ comfort, reader goes THROUGH IT, idk if there's anything else.

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 7k (exactly btw)

[𝙰/𝙽]: This has literally been in my drafts since Decemeber and I wrote way too much of it to not do anything with it so = I hope this is enough to suffice. Also, this is entirely based off of the mission 'Sin City' in call of duty ghosts, so if you haven't seen or played the game and don't want spoilers then please skip this !! (I would be surprised if you've not seen this yet you're in the Keegan tag.)

Also, if people do enjoy this I am down to write a part two so please let me know :3

ENJOY !!

There may be typos, apologies!!

Please don't post my work anywhere else without my permission !!

‘If I ever went missing, would you go and look for me?'

It was silent for a moment, and after five seconds passed, you turned to look at the man lying beside you. As you observed his features, you realised that his eyes were closed and while you doubted someone’s ability to dose off so quickly, you sure as shit didn’t doubt Keegan’s. His hand on your waist gave him away as it tightened on you, pulling you closer to him.

Opening his eyes, he peered at you with a furrowed brow. ‘The fuck kinda question is that, princess?’ He asked, ‘of course I would. Besides, need you with me,’ he said, ‘who else would I have to watch my back? Didn’t spend all that time training you for you to disappear on me, did I?’

Smug bastard.

'You're full of yourself,' you bit back.

'Good reason to be,' he said, brushing a hand through his black hair, moving his fringe away from his eyebrows, 'I'll consider being humble when I lose you, princess. But that hasn't happened and it won't be happening on my watch, not at all,' he reassured, pulling you closer to him.

You slapped his chest, letting out a heavy sigh, resting your head against his chest. In the dead of the night and the silence in your room, you listen to the thud of his beating heart while held up on a tiny bed. You were practically on top of him, legs intertwined. 

There wasn't anywhere to go, however, and he didn't seem to care about you closeness at that moment. Rather, he settled with the heat of your body much better than he would have settled in a bed with more space.

'You think this'll ever be over?' you mumbled, closing your eyes, 'I'd like to sleep in a bigger bed with you; this ones a little cramped. Maybe even watch something on a TV too.’

'You're free to take the floor if you want to, I'm not stopping you,' he grunted, pinching your waist.

'I'm gonna blow your brains out,' you sleepily mumbled, placing your hand over his. His chest twitches as he lets out a short laugh, folding his arm behind your head so he can brush his fingers through your hair. 'I mean it,' you grumbled.'

'Of course you do, princess,' he said, 'of course you do.'

—

Throughout your training as a Ghost, you gained an understanding that things will never ever be as easy as you wish they were. But, it came with the job, you suppose, whether it was spoken or not. 

Feelings as such only ever drift in when you don’t have a distraction, and the absence of Keegan after Elias sent him to Colorado Springs proved to be bruising. 

Admittedly, you had been apprehensive with Elias’ request, although, in private, you digressed as you noted that Elias is your Captain, and you were to never question your captains judgement. Even when it came to someone that you loved. So, you bit your tongue, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, you allowed yourself to relax. 

But, you have some things you needed to do before you got any sleep, or before you thought about anything else other than Rorke and the Federation. 

‘JSOC’s going to want to move fast on this, so load up before you get any shut eye,’ he advises.

You follow behind him, standing beside Logan as he walked with Hesh and Merrick by his side. Fortunately, the brunt of the experience has been dealt with, you had survived Keegan’s absence overnight, and in a matter of hours, he would be back by your side. Inwardly, you’re embarrassed at your clinginess to him, but deep down you know he enjoys it. 

‘We’ve got six hours until Keegan gets back,’ Elias says. 

Upon the mention of his name, Riley brushes his head against your leg, and you look down at the German Shepherd, rolling your eyes. Leaning down slightly, you scratch his head. ‘Shut up,’ you grumble to the pup when he looks up at you, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth. When you pull your hand away, he licks it, staring back at you. With a huff, you fold to his attempt of cuteness, moving your hand to the his head again. 

‘Hold up,’ Merrick says abruptly. 

An arm grabs your forearm suddenly, and you let out a startled breath, though when you look in front of you, you realise you’d almost walked right into Hesh. Exhaling, you turn your head to Logan who gives you a short nod. 

‘Somethin’ feel off to you?’ Merrick asks, turning to Elias.

The man immediately turns to his right, observing a laptop left perched on a desk. He says little for a moment, and when you turn your head away from your Captain, you acknowledge Merrick’s watchful eye as he peers down the scope of his gun, observing the sights through the broad windows located to the left of you. 

‘Security’s working,’ says the man to the right of you. 

Merrick slowly backs away, keeping his eyes trained o the window. You feel your throat tighten as you keep your eyes on the man, his paranoia working well to leave a heavy feeling in your chest. Logan lets go of your arm as he glances at his brother, a look that you don’t miss, and Merrick looks at you. You open your mouth to speak, holding the gun in your hands close to your chest, snapping your head to Riley as the dog begins to bark, glaring directly through he window that Merrick had just kept his eyes trained on. 

While he may be a dog, he is surely not an idiot- in fact, you’re quite sure that Riley is much smarter than many of the people you had encountered when you had been a simple rookie, before Elias had taken you under his wing. He could certainly kill more people, that’s for sure. 

It all seems to happen in slow motion, and the night you had spent prior seems to dissipate in one moment. There’s this hissing, you hear it from below, and before you have time to contemplate what exactly it is, a black can is thrown over the balcony, a train of green smoke pouring from out of the top of it.

‘Fuck,’ you curse, ‘get out!’ you yell, watching as another two cans containing the same foul smelling gas are tossed over  the balcony, hitting the ground with a clink.

As you begin to sprint, you find the air around you is similar to the air you breathed whenever you were spending time with Keegan on his smoke break. All oxygen left your lungs as you broke into a sprint, your eyes water, and before you know it, you falling down to the ground, gasping for air as you feel your eyes grow heavy. 

In the midst of the panic and over the thumping of your heart in your chest, you hear Elias call out, ‘Riley, hide!’ before breaking out into a fit of coughs.

You wretch, clawing at the ground in some form of futile attempt to escape, but nothing works as you watch Logan collapse right before you, spewing out violent coughs. Never have you felt so defenceless, so weak as you succumb to the gas, the world around you growing blurry before fading into complete darkness. 

—

‘What are you doing up, kid?’ Keegan asks, seeing you appear beside him.

Letting out a small yawn, your boots crunch against a few stray rocks as you approach him, taking a seat against the rock he was leaning on, looking out at the remnants of No Mans Land. Logan and Hesh had regarded it as their home, as did their father, though, you couldn’t really picture the place without the addition of a crater which grew every day, claiming the lives of old rickety buildings and unsuspecting wildlife.

It was a sorry sight to see for sure, and inwardly, you were happy you never had the misfortune of seeing your own home falling to pieces.

‘You need sleep,’ he said, taking a drag from the cigarette between his lips. 

Your eyebrows raise as you look at him, crossing your arms over yourself. ‘I thought you said you didn’t smoke,’ you say, 'you're a liar.'

You didn’t miss the way he rolled his eyes at your comment, and when he pulls it from his lips, exhaling a cloud of grey smoke, he chuckles. ‘Thought I told you not to hang onto every little thing I tell you, princess,’ he stated, ‘seems like we’re both guilty of doing something we’re not supposed to, hm?’

Placing the cigarette between his lips again, he turns his attention to you, noting that you’d crinkled your nose as the smoke he’d exhaled blew back into your face. ‘You can handle the fuckin’ dust in the battlefield, but the moment you smell a cigarette you fold?’ he mocks, laughing.

Your brow furrows at his comment and you fought of the urge to rip the cigarette out of his mouth. Instead, you allowed him to have his silly little cancer stick knowing that, if you did so something so cruel, he was sure to be upset at you, no matter how close the pair of you were. Cigarettes were difficult to come by and you liked him enough to let him have one in peace. 

—

When the world fades in, you’re moving.

You don’t know how, and for a short second, you’re convinced you’ve died. But, when you take a sharp breath and feel your lungs burning, you’re crudely brought back to life. When you look ahead of you, you witness two soldiers trailing behind you. Keeping your head bowed, you wince at the dizziness wrecking your tired mind, attempting to hold your breath in fear of the due ache in your lungs.

Swallowing, your mouth is dry and you feel the urge to vomit as your head keeps swaying from side to side. Your limbs feel like jelly, fluid. You can hear them talking, although, everything seems miles away from you, and you feel your eyes water as the tightness in your chest grows. If they know you’re here, do they know where Keegan is? The thought sends a chill down your spine, and in your delirious state, you declare that you will kill anyone who even dared to touch even a hair on his head. Even if it meant your death too. 

‘That all you got you piece of shit?!’

It’s Merrick, you recognise his tone from anywhere, it nearly shatters your delirious state entirely, though, the grip on the back of your collar tightens as your pulled away from him.

There’s more shouting and a loud smack, Merrick, you imagine, is on the receiving end of such a hit. A Ghost in true fashion, that’s for sure. As you attempt to lift your head again, you find the world growing dark once more, and, while you feel as though you should fight against it just as you had seen him do, you allow yourself to fall back into the abyss as you feel your lung burning and throat swelling. 

—

There’s a screeching when you come back around, a vile ringing in your ears. ‘Well, I guess if you want something done right, do it yourself.’ 

Your blood runs cold.

As you slowly begins to lift your head, a hand grabs your face, forcing your head up. The light protruding from the window to the left of you is nearly bruising, and when the hand holding your face successfully tilts your head up, your eyes meet with Rorkes. He looks down at you with a wrinkled smirk, his hold tightening on your hair, yanking it harder. You wince at the pressure as he keeps his eyes on you.

‘You’re finally awake,’ he acknowledges, pushing your head down, letting go of your hair. ‘Good.’

He walks away from you, and as you look around, you note that Hesh is sitting directly across from you, Logan is to the right of you, and Elias is to your left.

As you continue to look around, your face pales at the disappearance of Merrick, and while you sit, you recall the faint memory in your banging head of the man being surrounded by Federation soldiers.

He’s smart, you think, you could leave that bastard in a forest with a knife and he’d have his own fuckin’ city in a month. He’s fine. 

‘Nice to have the family back together, isn’t it?’ Rorke asks, looking to Elias. The man shows no fear, looking the devil right in the eyes with a stoic expression on his face. ‘One thing, though,’ he says, ‘we’re just missin’ our quiet friend, aren’t we?’ he says.

Your heart calms at such a statement.

He doesn’t have him, he’s fine, he’s safe.

You expect him to keep his eyes trained on Elias, counting on the fact that he is the Captain, but, he turns his head over his shoulder and looks at you. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turns his back to Elias, placing his hands down on his knees, ‘where’s Keegan?’

Looking him in the eyes, you spite your dry throat as the muscles in your neck contort and you muster up a mouthful of phlegm. He keeps his eyes trained on you, and you lung forward, a spray of mucus and saliva coating his face. ‘Fuck you,’ you heave, ‘I’m not telling you a fuckin’ thing,’ you sharply state.

He looks at you with wide eyes, standing up and wiping his face with the palm of his hand. 

‘Damn bitch has got some fight in her, doesn't she?’ he laughs, turning to Elias, ‘not your daughter by blood, but by attitude… fuck me, Elias, you’ve got yourself a mini me!’ he exclaims. You bite your lip, taking a deep breath as you look at your Captain with bleary eyes. Grabbing the back of the man’s chair, he pulls it to him. Elias’ gaze doesn’t leave his. ‘Where is he?’ he slowly questions. 

There’s a moment of silence.

‘You know I’m not telling you a damn thing,’ he spits, baring his teeth in his direction.

Never have you seen the man so agitated, his bruised face flushed red, his split lip oozing with blood, a thin line of it trailing down his chin. He looks like a savage beast as the sunlight behind him renders his features darker than typical, and the curve of his lips when he addresses Rorke even sends a shiver up your spine.

Of course, a Ghost was loyal to his own until death, and even then, they were buried down to watch over them. Once a Ghost, always a Ghost. Elias proved his worth much more than Rorke ever could, and while you wondered what exactly they had done to break the man who Elias had described as ‘one hell of a Ghost,’ but one thing was for certain. A man who broke was not a Ghost. Never was, and never would be.

’Go fuck yourself,’ Elias hisses.

Rorke laughs, nodding his head, letting go of the back of his chair. It lands with a clatter, and you watch as the man continues to nod to himself.

‘Dangerous fuckin’ game you’re playing,’ he states, and you watch as his right hand moves from the front of him, trailing around to the side where his pistol sat in his holster.

He’s gonna shoot Elias. Your eyes grow wide as you watch the man retrieve his weapon. Your muscles tensing as he holds it out in front of him. It’s aimed right at his chest, overing above his heart. ‘Well, let's see if I can change your mind,’ he exhales. 

BANG.

In a moment, his hand whips around, and when the trigger is pulled, all the air in your lungs exudes like puss from a pimple.

The shot causes your ears to ring. It’s loud, and everything is fuzzy. For a moment, you look up in search of the wound, hoping that the bullet had not went through your Captains skull. Only, when you look in his direction, you see the smoking pistol pointed directly at you. Your eyes grow wide, and you let out a short breath.

You heard the gun go off, the bullet had to be somewhere. And then, you felt a wetness pooling against your thighs. Everything seemed to move slowly when you raised your head up, looking across to Hesh with wide eyes. 

I’m going to die, I’m going to die and Keegan isn’t here with me.

As you manage to get a short breath in, agony hits you like a truck and you lean over without a second thought.

I’m going to die.

All you training, everything, how to stop the bleeding, none of it matters; you’re truly at the disposal of the enemy and there’s nothing you can do. Not even you Captain can do anything. 

‘NO!’ Elias screams, dragging you back into the moment. 

Between the thudding beats of your heart, you hear Hesh screaming out bloody murder, thrashing against the ropes that keep him tied to the chair, ‘Son of a bitch!’ he screams, looking directly at Rorke, ‘I’m going to kill you! You hear me? I’m going to fucking kill you!'

A shaky breath leaves you as your eyes well with tears, and when you look down, you gulp hard at the sight of a wound oozing blood. Your throat tightens as you feel your entire body grow hot.

‘Easy junior,’ Rorke warns with a disapproving tone. You keep your head bowed as his shadow looms over you, ‘I ain’t even started with you yet,’ he chuckles.

Keegan, where’s Keegan- I’m going to die.

Your eyes sting as your trembling hands press against the rope, pulling against them. You need to get out of there otherwise you are going to die. 

Elias calls your name, you hear it, he shouts it, yet, it seems so quiet.

'Look at me!’ he demands, and while everything in you is telling you to keep your eyes trained on the wound, you force your head up, sniffing hard as you look your Captain in the eyes. At the very least, even if Keegan isn’t there with you, you have him.

Elias, you captain, your military father. There have been plenty of jokes made during particularly bleak moments in missions where Hesh and Logan have likened you to their sister. It's an honour, truly, to know that they were your brothers no matter relation, and Elias entertained the idea that you were the daughter he had never had. 

Rorke appears behind him and it’s then that you don’t realise how many seconds are passing. Every single second feels like an hour, and you’re more than aware that every second passing is yet another drop of wasted blood. You’re running on borrowed fucking time, and there’s Rorke, the big fucking man he is, parading around in front of you like he’s a jester. ‘That’s right,’ he chuckles, placing his hand on Elias shoulder, ‘that’s it,’ he sighs, ‘show him how much pain he’s causing you right now.’

‘Keegan will kill you,’ you rasp out, stifling a short whimper as you clench your teeth. ‘And if he doesn’t, then I will.’

You’re more than aware of the situation your in and your pessimism seems to waver with your consciousness as a sudden boost of adrenaline fills you with defiance. If you’re going to die, you might as well run your tongue; the worst thing that can happen in this moment is him simply putting you out of your misery. 

Rorke laughs at your threats, ‘you see,’ he begins, ‘funny think about your old Captain here,’ he stops himself for a moment, shoving Elias as he resumes his position, looking you in the eyes, ‘He lets his men die to save his own ass,’ he states, turning his attention away from you, turning his attention back to the Captain.

Exhaling shakily, you look over to Hesh and Logan who return a look equally as frightened. Never have you seen the pair of them appear so apprehensive, although, you definitely don’t miss the look of anger. No, even though the look isn’t intended for you, you feel a chill run up your spine. 

‘Dammit, Rorke,’ Elias yells, ‘this is between you and me!’

The world seems like its on a merry-go-round, twisting and turning leaving a delightful fuzziness in your head. Adrenaline is pupping through you, and you’re thankful for the emotion, for, if you didn’t have it, you very well would have been out like a light. Your hands continue to pull against the ties of your rope, and while your wrists are burning from the constant pulling and tugging, you breath a short sigh of relief when you feel them loosening. Whoever tied it clearly weren’t trained in the art of kidnapping. 

‘Leave my kids out of it!’ Elias demands.

You feel your heart warm at his sentiment, giving you all the more fight to get out of these damn binds. Works gun is right next to him, you can get it, you can reach for it, and you can blow that fuckers brains out. 

‘You’re talking to a superior Lieutenant,’ Rorke says, pacing back and forward, before finding his way right back to Elias. Looking down at the man, he calmly speaks, ‘show some discipline.’

You feel your face grow warm listening to their exchange. 

‘You were never one of us, you’re not a Ghost,’ Elias cruelly says, turning his face away from Rorke, looking down to the ground. Rorke hums, turning his attention back towards you.

The ties are growing looser, they’re getting there, you can almost get your hand out of them, yet, you maintain poker face as you look up at Rorke. 

‘Well,’ Rorke breathes, ‘that’s just cause I’m better than you!’ he exclaims, keeping his eyes trained on you. You watch as they narrow, it’s a subtle one, one that you had noted during parring matches with rookies.

As Keegan had taught you, when soldiers get lazy, they give themselves away and it’s always in the eyes.

Your eyes dart to his hands, seeing him clench his fists as he snaps his body around, driving his fist into Elias’ face. The man falls to the side with a grunt as Rorke takes a short breath before raising his other fist, ‘I’ve always been better than you!’ he seethes, punching that man again. Elias tilts his head back against the chair, and you watch as both Logan and Hesh begin to fight much harder against their restraints. Either way, someone was getting out and Rorke was going to pay. ‘But you… you call yourself a Ghost?!’ he barks, hating Elias again. 

As he looks down on Elias, you pull a hand free from the ties. Keeping your eyes trained on Rorke, you look down at his gun, gritting your teeth. ‘You’re nothing! You and your kids, you’re dead!’ he declares.

Wrong move.

With his proud declaration, you push yourself up from out of the chair, snatching his pistol from out of the holster on his thigh. Such, unfortunately, doesn’t go unnoticed by Rorke as he whips around, grabbing your arms, forcing the pistol up. You place your hands against his, using all the strength you can muster to pull the gun away from him. 

Nothing moves him, however. 

But he’s a monster, he likes to play with his food.

He’s not using all his strength, he’s taking it easy on you, and you’re still losing. As he does so, he laughs in your ear. ‘Oh,’ he gasps, ‘she’s still got a little life in her,’ he laughs aloud, positioning the gun so your pointing it directly at Elias. ‘Didn’t he ever tell you not to aim guns at people?’ You grunt, driving your foot against his boot, feeling his grip falter for a moment. You attempt to move the gun upwards, your finger pressed against the trigger. Everything burns. Everything hurts. But you’re not going to stop, you’re going to kill this bastard even if it kills you. 

Unfortunately he’s a scummy man, and as punishment for you stomping on his foot, he drives an elbow into your stomach, winding you.

Your hold falters- you almost fall to the floor- but he keeps you up on your feet, and through gritted teeth declares, ‘they could go off!’ His finger jams against your pressed against the trigger, a loud shot ringing in your ears. You watch a Elias throws his head to the side as a bullet drives through his chest. You fight against him harder, shaking your head. ‘That’s is!’ He grunts, ‘just a little more that way,’ he instructs you, forcing your hand further to the right. You actively pull away as the both of you fight against each other. Tears are running down your faces at that moment, every pull and tug driving the bullet in your stomach further and further. 

‘Dammit, Rorke, STOP!’ Hesh begs. 

 ‘Point it… at…’ another shot is fired, and Elias takes it with a grunt, 'your Captain.’

As though taking candy from a baby, he lets go of your hands, plucking it out of your sweaty grasp. Gunpowder invades your nostrils as he lets you go. Rookie mistake, you hear it in your head, but it isn't your voice. It's Keegan's.

You wobble on your feet, staggering backwards as your get your bearings. What you need to do is untie Logan who is right behind you, and then when he's distracted you can get to Hesh. Yet, as you step back and begin to move towards Logan, Rorke whips around to face you again driving the butt of the pistol into your face. It hits you with a crude thwack, a stoke of colour meeting your gaze as you fail to catch yourself, tumbling to the ground.

Logan screams out as you fall to the ground, and you tense as you brace for impact. You land with a thud, a broken cry escaping your lips when you feel the bullet lodge in your stomach dig further in.

The pain leaves you gasping an you clench your teeth as the room spins. Nausea spread through you as you lay there attempting to collect yourself, gulping back the urge to vomit.  Resting your palm against the ground, you begin to attempt to pick yourself up. If you can just make it to Logan, you can make everything right.

Keeping your eyes trained on Elias, you watch as Rorke circles him as a shark did its pray. Both Hesh and Logan are calling you for you, the rattle of their chair thumping causing your ears to ring. Licking your dry lips, you tense when Rorke turns back to you, pointing the pistol in his hand directly at your head.

‘You got fire in you, kid,’ he breathlessly confesses, ‘I like that… risking your life to protect your Captain,’ he chuckles, leaning into Elias, pressing his finger against his chest. ‘You could learn something from her, Elias.’

‘She’s my daughter,’ he croaks. 

‘Yeah,’ Rorke nods, glancing at you, ‘and she’s gonna get to watch you die. Her and your boys.'

Shot after shot is fired, every bang against you to witness as you grab your stomach, pressing down against the wound to keep yourself from losing more blood than necessary. You’re far too dazed to get up and fight against the man who saw the very life of your Captain as some sort of joke. So, you watch, helpless, as Rorke empties a clip into Elias.

‘No! No! Dad!’ Hesh cries. His face is red as he frashes against the ties keeping him from his father, the very sight making your headache. His tone is piercing as he carelessly spits out curses at the man before him. ‘I’ll kill you, you hear me?’ he screams, ‘I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you! Motherfucker!’ 

The worlds a little blurry. 

Your eyelids grow heavy, and when you force the open upon hearing a thud right in front of you, you’re surprised to see Elias’ face meters away from yours. You fight against the urge to drift off. You’re not going to die, you’re getting out of this and you’re seeing Keegan again- you can't die.

‘You did well,’ Elias breathes, looking at you. Your blood runs cold at the sight of blood seeping onto the ground, ‘I’m proud of you, you and my boys,’ he utters, wheezing for a single breath of air. His lips are blue as he stares at you, your eyes welling with tears as you're forced to watch as the man struggles for his last breaths.

Rorke’s boot is planted firmly on top of his head, and you catch your Captain glancing up at the man.

For the very first time, you see fear in his eyes. It's a dastardly look, mixing with the loss of blood in an unappealing manner as his face grows sickeningly pale. Something tells you that Elias Walker is scared of dying.

No Ghost is to be scared of death, that's not who we are.

But, we're scared of losing each other.

Elias Walker is scared of losing his family, of leaving them behind.

Rorke sighs, pushing his boot further down, leaning down to press the muzzle of the pistol against his forehead.

Keegan, please.

‘Oh… you are right, Elias,’ breathes the man, ‘I’m not a Ghost,’ he grins. There's a pause in his words, and you find yourself searching for some form of sickly hope that just in the nick of time, there will be a bullet in Rorke's head rather than Elias'.

Rorke remains tall and as he licks his thin lips and eyes Elias, you find a dismal pit in your stomach that you know you're never going to recover from.

‘I’m the man that hunts them, and sends them back to the other side.’ 

With that, he pulls the trigger. 

You scrunch your eyes shut as you hear the rattle of the man's chest, a wet pray covering your face. Your lips form into a thin line as you choke out a broken sob, and when you bring your lips together again, the metallic taste of your Captains blood. Behind you, you can hear both Logan and Hesh sobbing, the anger the pair of the showed silently dissipated into grief.

The rustle of fabric in front of you unnerves you, and you attempt to turn away from Elias' corpse, letting out a startled breath when a shadow looms over you and you're grabbed.

'Leave her alone,' begs Logan, 'you got what you wanted. Leave her be... please.'

Rorke holds you in his arms like a child would a doll, and to your surprise, he guides you back into the chair you had jumped out from, forcing you back into it.

Standing back from the three of you, he rubs his mouth with his hand, his lips curling into a small grin as he hums to himself. 'Some talent is between you kids,' he says, 'real shame you're fighting the wrong side of this war, really, it is.'

—

Much to your pleasure, you find Merrick alive.

Despite your doubts prior, you knew well the man was capable of surviving. After the execution of Elias, Rorke left you with his soldiers and you, Hesh, Logan and Merrick were all forced onto your knees, kneeling on the balcony where the attack had first initially ensued. You’re unsure as to how much time had passed, but you were sure the wound was not getting any better as every time you shifted, you fell light headed. 

The soldiers that had been observing you receive something on the radio, although, your entire body is hot and your ears are ringing, the memory of Elias’ face stuck in your head as you were forced to witness his death close and personal. You’re quite sure there is residue on of the crime on your face, so, you keep your head bowed, out of the way of both Logan and Hesh who look completely broken. 

‘You alright?’ Logan whispers.

You’re shaking, but you nod your head. 

‘Just Peachy, L, don’t worry about it,’ you utter, keeping your head down. 

A shadow is cast over you and you catch sight of the boots of three soldiers.

‘The boss wants the girl alive,’ says one of them, causing you to snap your head upwards, looking at the three of them.

The one in the middle is pointing at you, marking you out of the crowd while the other two simply observe. 

You feel dirty. 

The man beside him nods his head, grabbing his pistol from his holster, aiming it at Hesh, while the other one approaches Logan, repeating the process.

It’s terribly calculated, killing both of the brothers, clearing the world of Elias once and for all at the same time. You keep your eyes trained on Hesh, eyes occasionally drifting to the window as you sit and wait. Planting the pistol firmly against Hesh’s head, you hear Logan grunt beside you. Hesh moves to the side, his forearms tensing, preparing for the shot. At the very last, they’re showing them mercy. They could have slit their throats, left them to drown in their own blood, yet, they’re making it easy.

One shot to the head. 

Then you see him. 

A small flicker of light in the distance. 

The light at the end of the tunnel.

The glass shatters, the man holding the gun to Hesh’s head stumbling down onto his knees, his hand firmly planted against his chest. It all happens so fast, the man beside him stands dazed, looking at his colleague. Another shot is fired, going right through the mans skull. A spray of brain, blood and skull covers you as the man fulls forward.

‘HESH, LOGAN! NOW!’ Merrick demands, the pair of them jumping to their feet. 

Logan shoves the guard to the ground, pulling him away from you while Hesh and Merrick rush two of two of the soldiers by the balcony. The awestruck soldier is left to you and you watch as he rushes forward, pulling the gun from the corpse of the dead soldier. Fortunately, Hesh manages to grab the rifle from off of the solider standing on the balcony, elbowing him in the stomach. Rushing up to you, he hits the back of the mans guns with the butt of the rifle, causing the man to fall to his knees. You watch with wide eyes as the solider attempts to rush up to him while Hesh fights with the other one. 

Another shot is fired. 

The soldier behind Hesh falls to the ground. 

‘I got you! Go!’ Merrick yells as more shots are fired.

The rest of the soldiers standing behind are dropped. To the right of you, you hear a gunshot as you stand up, watching Logan push himself up from off of the ground, the blood of a Federation soldier soaking into his t-shirt as he steps over the corpse. Grabbing the pistol discarded on the ground, Logan quickly fires a shot through the head of the solider Hesh is fighting with. A bullet whizzes past you, and without a second thought, you snap around, firing two shots directly into a soldier to the right of you. There are more shots from the right of you, and when the final body drops, you exhale. 

‘You okay, Merrick?’ Logan asks as Merrick unties the ropes around his wrists. ‘Rib’s broken, but I can move,’ he reassures, rushing up to Hesh. 

Logan pulls himself free, immediately approaching you, ripping off the edge of his t-shirt. You watched with a furrowed brow as he eyes you. 

‘Need to keep you from bleeding all over the place,’ he states, ‘c’mere,’ he instructs. You step forwards and he hands you the scrap from his t-shirt. Pressing it against the wound, you groan as he wraps the rope around you waist, trying it tightly around your waist. ‘Keegan’ll kill us if you lose a drop more blood… lost enough today too,’ he says, tying it tightly. ‘You still good to fight?’ 

‘Always,’ you say.

Holding his hand out, the pair of you bump fists and for the first time since this morning, you feel the dread swirling in your blood slowly coming to a stop. 

‘We got to get going,’ Merrick sharply states, marching ahead of the free of you. Hesh follows after him. ‘Keegan, we’re up and moving, get here as soon as you can,’ he instructs.

You look at his back in surprise, your own hand falling to your ear piece realising thatchy hadn’t taken them off of you.

‘Check… I’ll meet you in the kitchen,’ confirms the voice you have missed so terribly.

You clear your throat, wincing as you proceed forward, following after Merrick. Part of you wants him to say something to you, to tell you that everything is going to be okay, but you understand that doing such would absolutely be irresponsible, so, you busy yourself listening to Merrick. 

‘We need to make it to the west side of the building,’ he states, ‘it’s the best chance of getting out of here.’ You nod silently, taking a moment to take a breath. Everything was going to be fine, and in the end of this, you were going to have Rorke’s head in your hands. ‘You still good to fight, Eclipse?’ 

‘Always,’ you give a short nod, ‘bleedings calmed,’ you confirm, despite the burning causing you legs to wobble slightly. In due time it will be over, all of this ill be a distant memory. Just push on a little longer, that’s all you have to do. 

‘Shh.. noise behind the door,’ Hesh warns as he approaches it, ‘lets make this quick.’

—

As you push through the room, you exhale when a voice calls, 'I'm almost there,' Keegan confirms as your brow furrows, a particularly step sending a shot of pain through your stomach up your back.

You clamp your mouth shut as you whimper, your dry mouth longing for a drop of water. Eventually, this will be over, you just had to stick to it. He's almost here, you just have to keep pushing on. That's the only thing you can do.

Just keep fighting.

'You better find a place to hide, though, lotta guys headed right to you,' he warns.

You want to complain upon hearing such, why can it never just be easy? Everything has to be difficult, no matter what you're doing, you can never just catch a break.

‘Key,’ you exhale seeing the man standing before you.

His hardened haze softens upon catching sight of you, and you waste no time rushing up to him, throwing your arms around him. While unprofessional, you feel no shame in confessing that you were going to die without him, and if anything, you were deserving of this moment. The hug you share is brief as he grabs your forearms checking you over.

He stops when he sees your stomach. 

Merrick curses and falls to the ground, ‘shit,’ he hisses, attempting to push himself up off of the ground. As you look back to Keegan, the pair of you turn your attention towards the doors behind you, hearing voices edging closer and closer.

Grabbing you, he looks to Hesh and Logan, ‘get him up,’ he demands, gently guiding you into the room behind you. ‘We gotta hide, not gonna be able to take them,’ he states, pulling you to the side. ‘What the fuck happened?’ he whispers as Logan and Hesh quickly help Merrick inside the room.

You feel his hand against your stomach, wincing as he looks at you. The pressure on your stomach falters as he pulls his hand away, observing a wet patch in his gloves.  

‘Got shot talking back to Rorke,’ you confess, and while you’re sure it’s something you certainly should not be proud of, you speak with a glowing tone as you look at him. Besides, he trained you all those years ago, why should you be ashamed?

'Logan thought fast, used the rope he tied us up with to try and stop the bleeding,’ you mumble. His gaze hardens as he looks at you, and you swear you can see his Adams apple bobbing beneath his mask. Gently he pushes you behind him, helping you to the ground. Looking over his shoulder, he reaches his hand behind him, squeezing your knee. 

It’s so quiet, yet you feel as though your heart is going to burst. 

You place your bloody, shaking hand over his and offer him a wavering smile. He takes it in for a moment before snapping back into action. His hand is pulled from your knee and you’re left alone. 

'Turn that radio down,' Merrick hisses as Hesh helps him down

He hums as the doors burst open. Pushing you behind him, you all sit and watch as shadows pass you by.

And then the world begins to still. You're unable to describe just what it is you're feeling, although, despite the weight and severity of everything happening around you, you feel light as a feather. Your clothes are soaked at this point and in spite of your efforts, you find your breathing slowing as you lean against the wall.

Clumsily, you reach your had out to latch onto the floor as you feel an overwhelming drowsiness hit you. You've put in all the work and effort you can muster, yet, you've tried from it and as you wade through the mush of panicked voices and the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears, you succumb to your body's desperation and fully close your eyes, wading into the quiet of the stream.

[jovenshires]

hey gang!

i've been thinking, and i think it's about time i take a tiny, teeny lil hiatus. just wanted to let you know i'll be gone for a lil while (hopefully a week+ depending on how it goes). this is NOT because of any of you - in fact i am going to miss you all dearly. just think i need a bit of a mental health reset luvs.

i will have my queue running - i've upped the time and number of posts as well so it will run throughout my normal hours here - and i have content (incorrect tweets, some video edits, gifsets, etc.) lined up until. like may so don't worry about that snkjfk (i won't be gone for that long prommy i just do a lot of content prep). i'll also be watching smosh every day as per usual, and still working on stuff while im gone!! i think this'll be a really great opportunity to get some work done - i have so many fics and passion projects lined up that im really excited about, so hopefully i'll get to finish those in the meantime and i may be back to post them <3 at the very least i'll be back by valentines day for the smoshblr exchange!!

i won't be checking my notifs, the smosh tag, or anything like that. if you want me to see smth in the meantime, hit me with a tag or a dm and i promise i'll see it when i get back. my askbox is still open but i'm afraid i probably won't be answering anything for the time being. if you're an anon who sends me asks - please please please keep sending them to me. truly you have no idea how much i enjoy our silly lil daily chats, they mean the world to me. i will be back to answer them as soon as i feel like im ready <3 and as for dms, i will answer them once i come back, but if you wanna talk to me urgently, i have discord/snapchat/whatsapp/etc where you can find me if you want to hmu for those <3 even if we've never spoken before!! i don't bite and i love friends prommy. i'll def be around for the rest of the day if you want to get my info!

like i said, i'll be around if anyone has any burning questions or wants to chat. i love you all, keep going strong, and be good while i'm gone. in my honor, please follow my golden rules: be kind to one another, make lots of silly goofy content, and, most importantly, do whatever you want forever. love ya! :)

[kitkatopinions]

Okay, so I just watched a Miles Luna cameo video talking about the chant Pyrrha does to unlock Jaune's aura, link here to the reddit post of it. And it's a very interesting video for a number of reasons. Please note that while talking about this, I wanna be aware that my interpretations of what he's saying may not be definitively true. Miles Luna is someone I don't know and I'm unable to ask for clarification on anything he says. I'm simply talking about what this video made me think and how it came across, not trying to say like "this thing he said definitely means blah blah blah." This was just very interesting and I wanted to talk about what I found interesting and what I got out of it.

So he was answering the question "what's the deal with Pyrrha's aura unlocking chant thing in volume one? Was it like a standarized thing, or was the mantra unique to a person's beliefs?"

I'm going to be putting things that Miles said in indented and then talk about the things I think are worth talking about.

"I've always been in the camp that it's the latter, that that's like a Pyrrha Nikos thing."

So this'll happen again, but it's just interesting that Miles' answer comes in the form of 'this is how I saw it' rather than 'this is how we saw it,' which makes it seem like there wasn't an agreed upon conclusion or even an agreed on supposition on what this moment even was.

"The story behind that is a wild one, it takes us back to volume one. Back when me, Monty, and Kerry were... Learning how to tell stories." *Laughs* "Stories that lasted more than like - you know - five minutes, and build worlds and stuff. And back then, you know, so much stuff was rough around the edges. And it was a lot of experimentation, and just trying things, and having to just like, throw ideas out there and commit to them because we just had to work really quickly and..."

Miles talking about how rushed they were, how they didn't know how to tell a real story yet and were just 'throwing out ideas and committing to them' is just... To me, it really seems like it indicates what I already thought, that things weren't 'planned from the beginning' because they were just writing, and writing on a deadline, so they were putting things into the story without fully thinking them through and committing to them because it was all they could do.

"I remember we were trying to establish, you know, we need to teach the audience how aura works. First off-" *Laughing* "I don't think we did a super good job with that. The same with semblances, and a bunch of things."

It's so funny to me that if rwde posters and rwby critics said something along those lines, like 'they weren't good at telling us how aura worked' or 'they really just didn't establish a lot of things very well,' many anti-rwde posters would just hate us. XD And this is what I mean when I talk about how overly defensive some people in the fandom are, because one of the main writers and creators can look back and laugh about the ways they went wrong in the early volumes and recognize that they weren't the best at storytelling, and meanwhile there are fans that would be like 'ummm why do you need your handheld? Obviously aura works like *insert headcanon here* and you should've gotten that through the brilliant scene, you fucking idiot." Like, it's so much easier for me to fondly smile and shake my head at the sort of charming follies of early-RWBY. Random tangent, but it reminds me of watching a movie with my ex-boyfriend where he got angry that I said a character who was getting in a physical fight was aggressive and he rewound the movie several times and made me watch the character start a physical fight repeatedly to 'prove to me' that the character wasn't being aggressive, and I was just sitting there thinking 'I would like this movie a lot more if you weren't so defensive over it.' But anyway, back to the video.

"But I remember we were like 'okay, well Jaune's kind of our like - our big dummy who needs to be taught everything so the audience can learn a lot through Jaune. So Jaune doesn't - It makes sense that Jaune doesn't have an aura, and maybe he like um, unlocks it at some point like during the - the Emerald Forest trials, but like how?' And we were trying to figure stuff out, and Monty goes like-" *Shrugs* "'What if we just have Pyrrha unlock it for him?' And we were like 'how would that work?' And he was like 'I don't know, man, Pyrrha's supposed to be the best. Maybe she's really in tune with her aura. And so like, you know, maybe if like, people are really in tune with themselves and - and in sync with their aura, they can give people with more potential - they can just give them a little nudge.' And we went 'yeah, sure! Why not?'"

So if you applied the ideas of the two criteria here to world building, you have 'People who are really in tune with themselves and in sync with their aura can unlock other auras' and 'People who have potential can get their auras unlocked.' Which means potentially characters who are shown to be confident, self-assured and who know who and what they are - like Glynda, Robin, Maria, maybe WBY now that they had their 'I am a Huntress' moments - could hypothetically have this power if it hadn't been dropped. And who has potential is a bit trickier, but civilians who can or want to fight, maybe? So, would Whitley count as being able to unlock an aura? See, the interesting thing is that I wouldn't consider Pyrrha to be particularly self-assured emotionally. Physically, yes, but emotionally I think she suffers from some insecurities that might give her blind spots. So maybe unlocking aura requires someone to be physically in tune with their body.

"I remember Monty wanted to write uh, Pyrrha's monologue and - and it's so Monty. Um, but it's one of the few things where he was like 'Hey, can I take a stab at that? I think it would be fun.' And he did, and I think it's really great."

Him saying 'one of the few things' is also interesting to me. But I do tend to have the opinion that from what I've heard, Monty would have ideas and Kerry and Miles are the ones that did most of the writing and like, turning the ideas into a firm thing. That's just the vibes I've gotten from the way that they've talked, and this just kind of makes me think that more.

"And it's very - It comes across as very, like, mystical. And like, ooh, exciting, mysterious. Because that was - that was kind of what we wanted the vibe to be about like aura. Like it's this spiritual thing that like, we understand how we can kind of use it um, practically, in combat. But like, emotionally and spiritually, there's so much more depth there. It has room to grow, there's things about it we don't understand. And um, we felt that what Monty wrote kind of encapsulated that sort of mysterious, spiritual um, like, side of it. And also for Pyrrha too. Like it made her seem like she was just levels upon levels higher than where Jaune was at the time. And we also felt - I mean I definitely feel as though, that it's something that like, she likes to think about and something that she says to herself to give her courage. Because if she's gonna fall in battle, then so be it. But she believes that her spirit - that there's a part of her that will live on, long after her body falls, and will go to some other plane on some grand adventure."

A part of me wishes that this had been so much more explained, but also I feel like the spiritual part of things isn't something that I want heavy emphasis in when it comes to the characters that seem to disregard their lives a bit, if that makes sense? Like, don't get me wrong, I'm not one of the people who think that Pyrrha going to fight Cinder is some indication of fault with her or Ozpin or something, I think it's perfectly logical that she went up to fight Cinder. I just also think that adding in that Pyrrha thinks 'if she falls then so be it,' before having her actually die. RWBY has a very dicey at best track record when it comes to suicide (Penny, Ruby in V8) and I think adding in these elements for Pyrrha would just have made it even worse.

"And I think that gives her the courage to... Be Pyrrha Nikos, out on the battlefield, fighting for the lives of others. That's kind of always been my take on it. But yeah, the short behind the scenes answer is um, Monty thought it would be a cool thing to do. Um, that was the answer to a lot of things from back then."

More 'not everything was well planned' indications here.

"Um, and I - and I like it a lot too, because we were really trying to explain to the audience that the creatures of Grimm don't have souls. There should be no moral quandaries about slaughtering hordes and hordes of these scary looking creatures."

Okay, so... I'm going to get into some controversial stuff here, because if they wanted to ensure that there were no moral quandaries about fighting the Grimm in the early seasons, why were they comfortable having the White Fang being such prominent enemies who Team RWBY would throw off of train cars that were blowing up in a tunnel soon to be overrun by Grimm? To me, if I was concerned that people would take issue with the main protagonist mowing down animal-like creatures that acted mindless and therefore had to establish that they don't have souls, I would be five times more concerned with making sure my main protagonist wasn't just tossing aside talking sentient humans especially if I had made them part of an in-universe marginalized minority group. Just a thought.

"And then, you know, on the opposite side of that, if the things that all of our protagonists fight are soulless, then we should make something that makes huntsman and huntresses really strong, it's the fact that they do have a soul that can manifest itself in ways that can protect the user - like the body of the person. Uh - uh, it's just something that, I don't know. It's like warm, fuzzy like faith and belief. And just, it felt like the nice counterbalance to the like, hollow, cold, violent Grimm."

What's interesting to me about this statement is that they wanted Huntsman and Huntresses specifically to counterbalance the Grimm by having proof of their humanity in their souls being so blatantly represented. If it were me, I would have humanity in general separated from the Grimm through their souls. But it's almost like the only people they care about and the only people they want the audience to care about are the hunters and huntresses, and not the civilian figures and random people just living their lives. I think that does sort of come across in the writing with things like Cinder killing people on the bridge in volume eight and knocking them down but then later on Yang saying in volume nine that they saved everyone, and Weiss throwing the guards into the ocean never to be seen again, and no one really bringing up or caring about how Mistral is pretty much defenseless, and so on and so forth. I think this also comes across in the fandom, where I've seen people talk about 'why would we care about the NPCs' and things like that. This just makes it seem to me that the writers don't really care about civilians.

"So yeah, that's kind of my all over the place answer, I hope you like it. Because that's how I always felt about it. We kind of just rolled with it back then, because we had to, because we had to work so fast, with so many constraints working against us."

The fact that even the main writers and creators seemed to be on time crunches where they couldn't take the time to really figure things out speaks volumes I think about how Rooster Teeth does business. Also, more little reasons here to not believe everything was planned from the beginning. Miles Luna says they just rolled with things not even because they wanted to but because they had to, because they didn't have time to put more thought into what they'd do before they did it.

"And we were super inexperienced. Um, if I were to do it all again, I would wanna - I would wanna dig into that more. I think there's some cool, untapped potential there. And in a million other places in the show."

This is so true that there is so much untapped potential in RWBY. But I just think it's really funny that once again, this is something rwde posters and rwby critics would get blasted for saying. XD Like I remember one time posting like 'there's so much I would change and explore more in RWBY if I could reboot it' and someone in the comment section was like 'I bet your writing sucks, idk why you think you could improve anything about RWBY.' If I said RWBY was full of untapped potential and I wish it was dug into more, I might get accused of being a know-nothing idiot or an obnoxious entitled brat, lol. XD

"Um, but, you know, those rough edges and that sort of like - amateur is too strong a word - but the - the over ambition of RWBY, I think has always been one of its greatest strengths and also greatest weaknesses."

For once, I completely agree with Miles Luna. One reason why RWBY is something I keep coming back to is that there's just so much there to work with, so much that could be really good. But it's also one of the biggest flaws of RWBY that it always packs so much in that it just doesn't seem to have any interest in properly exploring or following through on, and I do think it would be a much better written show if the writers would just stop and take a breath and scale back and edit to what they can handle. It's like filling your fridge with a ton of perishable food in the hopes of cooking amazing meals, but then not taking the time to ever really cook or do anything good with the ingredients and then throwing together a hodgepodge sandwich before (or even after) things start spoiling in the fridge. It's great for creativity and it makes me want to actually cook something good with all those ingredients, but you still think they shouldn't have been that ambitious and you're like 'next time you go shopping just buy stuff for a regular old sandwich because apparently you can't handle it, and this sandwich has moldy cheese, too many vegetables, balsamic vinegar, mustard seeds, uncooked lobster, and a twinkie. What were you thinking?' Anyway, long spiel short, RWBY has great potential, endless heaps of good ideas that are inspiring and that's one of the best things about the show! But it's also way too ambitious and it leaves the show in a mess. I don't even have a good solution that would keep the scope of the show and how it gets the creative juices flowing without being too much for the writers who can't seem to do any real depth or follow through, I'm just talking. XD

"Uh, but it has a lot of charm, and we had a lot of heart back then. And i'm glad that people still think about volume one to this day. It's just cool."

It's interesting to me that Miles Luna says 'we had a lot of heart back then.' Now again, I'm not trying to say 'Miles Luna definitely meant that they don't have heart now,' because I don't know him and I don't know what he meant, but just the nostalgia in his tone and the way he talked, it made me think about how RWBY used to feel like this loved thing that people really wanted to do, whereas now sometimes RWBY feels like the thing that people don't want to do that they're just plugging away at, and like skipping past loads of exposition and having their characters act exasperated and tired out by everything. I've gotten to that state where I was really excited about writing something, and then when I got out of the mood to write it and was just forcing myself too, it would leak into skipping over important things and just writing the characters to go through the motions in like vague annoyance because I was vaguely annoyed. It's a sign that I need to grow as a writer, but it also makes me go 'do I really want to even be writing this, does this even spark joy' and sometimes the answer is no. And it just kind of feels like sometimes that's what RWBY is now, a project people don't want to do anymore that no longer sparks that same joy that it used to.

But on a better, lighter note, I'm glad too that people are still thinking about volume one, because it often feels like the RWBY fandom on the general whole just doesn't even like the early volumes and wants to forget them, or even forget seasons 4-6 sometimes. Some people will act like the only thing that matters is the present, and looking at the setup or the early established things is just stupid when it's like... No, that's the whole thing that RWBY was built on. Volumes 7-9 alone don't tell a complete story. It's a hodgepodge sandwich full of a bunch of mismatched stuff maybe, but I really feel like the people that eat the whole thing and might complain about the bad parts actually like the sandwich way more than the people who take the top piece of bread and then tell you that all that other stuff doesn't matter anymore. XD But yeah, that's just the things that I was thinking about when I saw that cameo video.

[milkyway-myosotis]

Alola. Think that's what you say.

My name is Dillisk. I'm a Ranger for the Ultra Recon Squad. An...Ultra Recon Ranger, you could say. I think. I don't care about pronouns. Use any you'd like. Um...

This is just a personal blog, so anything I say doesn't reflect the URS. I also...don't know a lot about the URS. Internal affairs and stuff. I just do missions.

I have one Ultra Beast—a Poipole. I've named them Plum :)

My coworkers have expressed interest in joining me on here, so...you can expect to see them around, I think.

That's all. I look forward to meeting you all here.

-🪼

[ Current Status: Loitering . . . ]

[Magic Anons: Disabled]

[Mystery Gift: Enabled]

[Pelipper (Lunala) Mail: Enabled]

[Divider Credit!]

(Ooc Beneath- Please read!)

//Hello! This is skrelp, back at it again for a take two of this blog!

So, if you don't know, here's a basic explanation of what this blog (and who Dillisk) used to be (not required reading):

For a 100 Follower event on another Pkmn IRL Blog I run, I decided to do an 'au takeover!' Of that character, which ended up being Dillisk. I decided a few weeks after to make Dillisk a separate blog—but so that I wasn't running two blogs with the exact same character, I decided to include two of her coworkers on there!

This was all well and good, but I quickly felt stuck when it came to Dillisk as a character, and events I wanted to do with this blog. So it eventually fell into a hiatus. But I'm back! With a hard reboot.

Important notes:

Most interactions and events before August 23rd, 2024 are currently considered non-canon. This might change, depending on other muns and stuff! If we've interacted before, feel free to DM me and we can work something out !

The current Dillisk that runs this blog is NOT AFFILIATED with the previous version, or the other blog I mentioned. While they share the same name, the similarities end there. Everything, including their backstory, is now different!

Rules + Notices

No NSFW. Mod is an adult, but is just generally uncomfortable with that kinda thing.

Any blog with any canon can interact! This includes sapient Pokemon, eebies, and especially fallers!

Because it's not mentioned up there /\, Musharna Mail and Malice are both off.

If you ever want to work something out—like an event, or an established relationship between our characters or whatever—feel free to message me! I'm down for most things :D

This'll be a drama-stakes blog with medium-stakes on occasion!

Because of Dillisk's situation, the topic of amnesia and memory loss will be brought up a bunch. I'll tag these with 'tw amnesia' when I can.

Furthermore—feel free to poke and prod Dillisk about stuff! He's got. A lot going on LMAO

Let me know if you need anything tagged!

Other stuff 💥

Emoji Signoffs:

-🪼 [Dillisk]

-🍨 Nori

-💫 [Coworker 2] [Currently unnamed- Ask about them!]

[New!] Tags:

#it's dillisk! 🪼 — Posts where Dillisk is speaking

#asks and stuff — Ask tag

#=on a mission!= — Posts where Dillisk is on a mission!

#coworker appearance: 💫 — Posts where one of Dillisk's coworkers makes an appearance. Once you learn their name, this tag will be phased out with a different one.

#it's nori! 🍨 — Posts where one of Dillisk's coworkers, Nori, makes an appearance.

[schwender-exe]

Devlog #1

Well, I promised a devlog and here it is!

Howdy folks, it's been a while of radio silence but hopefully it's well worth the wait! since the last time I've posted I took a break to think over what I wanted to do with the game. The reason for that is because originally, I basically started with a vague idea of the story without any plot-points or anything tangible. I basically started development with nothing more than the basic setting and a few random area and character ideas, which obviously won't get me far.

So. What did I do about it? well.. not much. Since last I posted, I quit my old job and got a new job which is a much calmer atmosphere compared to my last which is helping with my sanity, drafted a few story plot points and talked to a few artists, which, speaking of:

Say hello to Yo_Hokki, the game's new artist! you can check out Hokki's awesome work here!

Hokki will be taking the sprites I've done so far and giving them more of a polish to them than I could ever do (and shading! ooo!). as much as I enjoy doing pixel art, I don't think mine is exactly at a level I feel proud of and I'm lacking in a lot of skill, which is why I wanted to find an artist in the first place. (Plus it's nice to have someone else's opinion if I ever get stuck!)

Here's a little gif of the new character sprites in action! Hokki's new sprites also come with a new palette which, honestly I think these colors pop more and in general are nicer / more interesting to look at than the palette I had before.

On the more technical side, I've been working on some back-end parts of the game to make it easier to produce new content. I've written a dialogue script reader which lets me write out dialogue like so:

And have it convert that into my EventSystem script which-- well long story short it means I don't have to write a lot to have long conversations between characters. It also allows me to add keywords modularly which is a huge help if I ever decide to add more to the dialogue system later on. If anyone would like a breakdown of the Dialogue system, feel free to shoot me a question and I'll try my best to explain!

I've also been reworking the original stage I had for Chloe (the mushroom headed character) and breaking it into smaller chunks to make it more interesting and have more to it than simply running over and talking to Chloe. One of the big reasons it took me so long to add on to the game (outside of being busy with IRL things) was that I had trouble thinking of new mechanics which really fit with the game and kept the game feeling "chill", which is the goal. I won't get into much specifics, otherwise this'll be one hell of a long devlog- but to keep it simple: It takes me a long time to really nail down something that I feel is a good fit for the setting, the game and will be enjoyable from a player's perspective... which is tough because I am an overthinker :') (If any devs have any tips on this, please do dm me! I could use the help!)

Well, that's it for this devlog! thanks for reading! hopefully next devlog won't be too far off..

[hypnofantasma]

"Where's the Ulterior Spectacle remake?"

I know i've gotten this a ton of times, and seeing how it's been a couple years since i said it'd exist, i decided i'd give all of my reasons why it's taking So Damn Long. hopefully, this'll reduce the amount of... hate? judgement?? i keep getting regarding this song.

1) The only reason I SHOULD be giving: the simple fact that I am working on an immense universe

I'm not working on JUST Stars Below, and even THEN, a remake has the lowest priority of all when it comes to new Stars Below songs, character development, design solidification, etc. I'd rather solidify the world and story FIRST before making a remake that might swiftly become outdated once again if I rush it. This is also why songs IN GENERAL have been slow; I'm refining the story. It's a HUGE WIP.

I'm not a company, I'm One Single Person with OCs on the internet. If I don't work on one singular aspect, I'm sorry? I guess? That leads into...

2) I'm so immensely stressed at the moment that I'm having physical health issues and can't reliably/consistently work on things

Like I still CAN draw, but completed PVs are so high-effort (and risk), low-reward for me right now that I have to make smaller things. That's why I'm focusing on Artfight for now. On top of that, I'm gonna try to get another term of college this year so I can accomplish something tangible in my life and get a degree. (College is ALSO why stuff's been slow)

If you want to know WHAT my health issues are, all you need to know is that I've got visible ribs yet my weight is constantly depleting.

3) People keep reuploading my stuff

People keep taking things from my Discord server and reuploading them on sites like Youtube. If I don't upload something, I do not want it uploaded, plain and simple. No, I am not free game just because I'm on the internet. I'm just an independent artist and not a company, and this is breaking several boundaries of mine.

If you claim it's "out of fan love" or "giving me free promotion", it doesn't change the fact it makes me (and even my community) exceedingly uncomfortable. The big one being reuploaded was Tundra Lens, and while I did make it public again, it was solely to appease the reuploaders. Please don't reupload my stuff.

It's killing my motivation and drive for the Ulterior Spectacle remake.

4) Multiple abusers in my life

I won't dive into this one but just know that, behind the scenes, I have been treated like a goddamn ragdoll. I have been treated like an object by both strangers and people extremely close to me, and I'm drained, man.

These events have been adding to my current status of being physically ill and chronically fatigued.

5) I am currently being stalked by a group who hates me and intentionally mocks me

A certain group of individuals (who will remain unnamed) are currently stalking me, gathering my creations, and making a complete mockery of a project that intends to break all of the universal rules I have crafted. I don't mind if you don't know everything about my universe; it's a lot, after all, and I'm more than happy to educate.

However, this group intends on making a complete mockery of not only my universe but also my art. It is out of malice and not parody. Due to this, I'm almost too scared to post anything, really. I don't want this to stop me, but damn it does it sting. I'll ride this out with god-rivaling perseverance if I have to.

Now....

While all of this is there, I'll also say the remake IS NOT cancelled. I'll be dead before it's cancelled. But I just wanted to give some perspective a little bit, and maybe- if you're someone mad about the lack of the remake so far- you'll understand why a little more.

Just please respect my boundaries for things, don't drum up drama with me, and leave me in peace. That's all I ask. One day this song'll be completed, and it'll be a day where I'm no longer treated as some soulless machine.

Thank you.

[phoenix-flamed]

Okay, so while I'm going on tangent after tangent about Thoughts on Stuff and Things, I want to real quick talk about my thoughts and views on the Northern Territories, and the stark contrast between how Elwin + Rosaria treated them compared to Sylvestre and Anabella + Sanbreque.

As always, these are just my thoughts, so please take them with a grain of salt, and don't worry if you don't agree! (But like always, I'm happy to hear other opinions/perspectives/etc., and if I have any information wrong, please also feel free to correct me!)

Without further ado, here we go! (I'll put this under a Read More in case it gets too long.)

So Rosaria's conflicts with The Northern Territories date back quite a while, to no one's surprise. This'll become relevant later, I promise. The tribes of the north have always been rowdy and aggressive, by the sounds of it -- at least as far as the in-game lore notes regarding them. Several years into Elwin's reign as Archduke, the Northern Territories pushed an advance upon Rosarian soil. I tend to speculate it's because of desperation; with the Blight creeping across more and more of their land, and their Mothercrystal dead, it's no wonder they'd be growing more restless. Elwin and his soldiers pushed back against them, drove them back up north, and it was Elwin himself who dealt the "decisive blow" against Silvermane.

But that blow wasn't really a blow at all, comparatively speaking.

Elwin didn't force Silvermane and their tribes to submit to Rosarian rule. He didn't kill Silvermane to send a message to everyone not to mess with Rosaria, and he certainly didn't decimate the tribes in order to end their threat to Rosaria once and for all. The in-game lore describes Elwin's actions as having "pacified" the tribes, and "unified" them. This, to me, sounds like he strove to seek a peaceable solution to the problem, rather than an aggressive one. He calmed them down, and he brought the different tribes together so that they might work as one, and it's my personal speculation that he did that with the intention of helping them with their plight, rather than subjugating them.

His decision to take Jill to Rosalith with him is nonetheless, to me, an asshole move, but from a political and military standpoint, I can see why he would go that route, especially if he's trying for peaceable solutions. But while I understand the potential logic of why he might have done it, I don't personally agree with it.

Rosaria, at the game's start, has been aiding the north with their ever-growing problem of the Blight's spread. Not only have they been offering resources to them, but they've been taking in refugees as well, both of which have started putting strain upon Rosaria itself. Especially with the Blight creeping ever closer to the duchy as well. But this post isn't meant to be about whether or not aiding other nations in crisis is a good or bad move -- so back on track we go! Elwin may have been dedicated to preserving and defending what Rosaria already had in terms of land(excluding the attempts at finally taking Drake's Breath back from the Iron Kingdom), and prioritized their people over the territory itself, he also seemed to believe in helping others in need as well. Despite the long-standing history of fighting with the Northern Territories, Elwin chose to help them, rather than abandon them.

Now, on the other side of the fence, you have Sanbreque. Sylvestre makes it clear early on that he prioritizes a nation's land over its people, because people can easily be replaced. This is a sentiment that Anabella, during the scene where Clive and Jill confront her, reveals that she shares with Sylvestre, and one of the reasons why she and Elwin were so drastically at odds. Their views on how the duchy should be ruled and what should be prioritized were, essentially, opposites, and by being opposites, they opposed one-another.

After Rosaria was taken over by Sanbreque, Sanbreque decided to leave the Northern Territories to rot. This is pure speculation, but I tend to think it's because of that sentiment regarding land versus people; considering the north has all but completely been consumed by the Blight, their land is of no use to the Holy Empire, and thus are the tribes there completely and utterly useless in their eyes. Now, the second lore tidbit in-game, as far as I recall, states that the north was indeed abandoned by Sanbreque. But we find out through one of the sidequests that Gav is from the Northern Territories. Through him, we find out that the Imperials went into the north and slaughtered its inhabitants. Gav's family was victim to one of these purgings, including his little sibling that had been born just the day before. Gav was the only survivor of this.

Doubling back to the purpose of this post, the difference between how Elwin and Rosaria viewed and treated the north, and how Sylvestre + Anabella and Sabreque seemed to view and treat the north, is staggering in my opinion. It also, again in my opinion, demonstrates well their different styles of ruling. And unfortunately, it's the people of places like the Northern Territories and the Crystalline Dominion that get caught in the crossfire of the resulting power struggles of places like Sanbreque. Conversely, it's the people of Rosaria that end up in need when it comes to rulers like Elwin, who, despite prioritizing the people over the land, overextend their hand in terms of aid, to the detriment of their own people.

Hello, my name is Vonny. I have a lot of feelings about stuff, and in this essay I will --

[unovanhunny]

[Finally getting around to more ficlets. This'll be my solution since I can't edit asks anymore]

I gotchu anon! Here's the post!

Ingo's the one who reached out to Emmet and so he gets "Captured" when they're found together, and Ingo is going against his country's wishes to even be there at the rebel camp. It's most certainly a twisty business.

It was a mixed reaction when Ingo pulled back the flap of the tent and entered the space his brother alone occupied. Initially, he had his head covered by his cloak's hood, dull grey and inconspicuous. But as he pulled it down, sure now that Emmet was truly alone, Ingo hoped he would be given the chance to do what he came here for.

Emmet was used to people coming into his tent at all hours to discuss strategy or talk, so the fact that someone entered wasn't unusual. The hood puzzled him, made him slightly wary. But with the hood pulled down and the intruder exposed, he stared at Ingo with an expression of surprise, trepidation, relief and maybe just a hint of happiness. It didn't last long as he drew his sword and pointed it at the leader he and his people were trying to defeat. Ingo put his hands up defensively, taking a step back, tossing open the cloak to show he was entirely unarmed and not a threat.

"Emmet, please... I'm just here to talk."

Blade still held aloft, Emmet narrowed his eyes at his brother. "What? What could you possibly have to talk to me about if it is not your unconditional surrender. Or at least a ceasefire to this."

There was conflict in Ingo's expression, a kind of sad desperation in his eyes, worried grinding of teeth against his bottom lip and a nearly hopelessness in the way his shoulders sagged. "I... I can't do that."

"Then I have no business with you and you should leave while I still give you the chance-"

"Please! Don't! This is the only way I could think to have a conversation with you! It's completely impossible to do so on the battlefield and no one knows I'm here. I really do just... Want to talk. I've missed you."

A silent standstill, unwavering arm still holding the blade. It was clear who had the upper hand here. Their eyes bored into each other, taking in every detail of the other they could, reading the intentions, feelings, story, on the other's face.

Finally Emmet lowered the blade and let out a sigh through his nose. Sword stored back in its sheath, he gestured to one of the chairs that circled a table with papers and maps for Ingo to take a seat on. He didn't fully trust him, how could he? But he couldn't find it in himself to turn away his brother despite being on opposite sides of this conflict. Clearing the table so Ingo couldn't see anything important, Emmet sat across from him with an expectant look, the edge of apprehension clear.

"So. You wanted to talk."

"Yes. I haven't seen you in so many years... You've changed so much, I almost didn't recognise you!"

"Yes, well, working to overthrow a twisted and corrupt regime that touts itself as righteous will do that."

Ingo whithered visbly at the comment. He had hoped that they could have a pleasant conversation, but he had the feeling Emmet would do this with anything he tried to say. His heart squeezed.

"I... Never meant for this. You must understand that, right? I would never want to fight you. If I had any choice I-"

"There is always a choice, Ingo. This conversation will not go the way you wish. I will not say I hate you, but we can never be brothers the way we once were. Everything is different now. You must understand that."

Ingo was quiet for a long time after that, gaze burning a hole in the table to hold back the burn of tears threatening to fill his eyes. Finally, he sighed.

"Yes... I know. Of course. It's foolish to pretend otherwise. I had... Maybe I was deluding myself. But I still wanted to try."

Once again it was silent. It made the space that stretched out between them painfully obvious. Impossibly vast and insurmountable.

"Did you really risk so much to simply speak with me? If anyone else had seen you, you know you would have been captured and made our bargaining chip." Emmet spoke cooly, ignoring the anxious itch at the back of his mind over that.

"We already said it was a foolish and fruitless endeavor, but it was genuine. I really did risk so much to get a moment with you.... I'm glad you don't hate me. You could and I wouldn't be able to fault you." Ingo's gaze wandered, looking anywhere that wasn't Emmet. "I am not as in charge as I may seem. Yes, I'm the face of the nation, the one who speaks the rallying words. But I'm not the one making the decisions. If I were, as soon as I knew you were involve, things would have gone very differently."

That had been the suspicion for some time. That Ingo was merely a figurehead. The Young King, so dedicated to his country, appointed by God to bring their nation to Greatness, could easily rally his people around him, words convincing them to follow orders that others had issued. An appealing mouthpiece.

".... I will tell you what. It is dangerous for you to stay for long. I know that someone will stop by sooner or later and the only option for you then is surrender. Go home, go back to your advisors and your palace. But... If you were to come by again at the same time tomorrow or the day after, I may be alone again."

Was this the beginning of a plan forming? Yes. Ingo was beloved. If they, he, could find a way to pry the claws of his advisors out of him, there was a chance they could get him to speak of peace, to change the public's view of the conflict, want to stop the fighting. Come to an understanding. So if his brother wanted to stop by and start to build a relationship with him again, then so be it. It might just solve all of their problems.

---

The plan was to give Ingo enough to keep him coming back, understand his thoughts and feelings and turn them towards a more favorablr outcome, find ways to go behind the backs of his advisors. And it was working!

But something else was happening. Something they both felt acutely. Emmet had been right, they could never have the same brotherly relationship they used to. The way their hearts ached for each other, the way it felt natural when their lips touched, their tongues tasted, it was far from what they once had.

And they indulged.

Of course Ingo was so easy to influence when he wanted to just spend time with Emmet without risking life and limb every time. This had to end. And his slowly cooling passion for the righteous rhetoric he fed to the people had started to make its impact.

It was on a morning where they pushed their luck too far that it finally fell to pieces. Neither of them wanted Ingo to leave, so he convinced himself to stay later and later until they were awoken by an indignant voice.

What was the enemy leader doing there? In their own leader's tent? If not for the fact that they were twins, they would think he was trying to seduce their leader into surrender. But he must be using their shares history to his advantage. Why else would he be there? And that he was still there only solidified that his tactic must have started to work! Emmet had gotten weak to him!

Everything felt like it was going too fast and too slow in the same moment. Separated, Emmet kept far away from the king that wasn't his but who had his heart. He had been manipulated, he was in no fit state to make rational decisions about Ingo now!

It was with desperation Emmet tried to explain his tactics, his plan. He wasn't manipulated, he was the one doing the manipulation! Ingo was integral to finding an end to this, finally! One where no one else had to die!

"Emmet, do you really think that's the way this ends? With peace? I didn't realise you were such an idealist."

The words struck a cord within him and he felt a sick twist in his stomach. "What do you mean..."

"This doesn't end until all the ones in charge are dead. Of course this King of theirs is just for show. We use him as bait so we can draw out the ones really pulling the strings. And then we kill them. Then and only then will it be safe for us. Sure, they're more likely to send armies after us before they submit to any demands, but morale will take a hit as more soldiers die without their King to guide them."

"Or... They rally their armies to avenge and recapture their King and use him as motivation!"

"That's a risk we're willing to take at this point. You've done the best you could until now trying to lead us, but this conflict won't end until we do something decisive. And you just so happened to have the most decisive piece of this entire thing conveniently stowed away in your tent. We can't rest until the advisors are dead, and by then maybe we'll even spare your King brother. You'll be the one to take over, though. After all, you have as much right as him don't you?"

It was a cold feeling, knowing the ones he trusted most had an entire plan they came up with involving him without ever consulting him. And that things were out of his hands now. The bloodshed that may ensue from this would be worse than that leading up to it, and it was his own fault.

"Can I at least see him?" Despite being at war, only now did it feel as though his world was moments from crumbling and falling apart. Ingo had become so integral to his life that the thought of being kept away from him burned a hot painful hole in the pit of his stomach.

"Eventually, and under supervision. We can't allow you to jeopardize any of our plans now. But you played your part perfectly, so we can give you a little lenience."

To think he thought Ingo was the only one to have been nothing but a symbol to be used as a face for this war. They really were twins in the end, weren't they?

[fanfic-scribbles]

WiP Wednesday: Digestifs Chapter Three

Gonna come out and admit I have no idea where this came from. I had a blank Word doc staring at me, I went to type down a mildly funny idea for a Dinner Date chapter, then sex happened and it's maybe almost done?

So here's a bit of it to show I'm actually working on something. Digestifs is the side collection of explicit stories for Dinner Date and it gets updated on an 'as I feel like it' basis. Thankfully I finally really felt like it and I think (hope) this'll be done in a week or so. I don't post explicit stuff on Tumblr because their policies are more wonky than I care for so when it gets posted it will be with a snippet to entice you to click a link to AO3 who will do the age/consent check for me. For now, here's a tame excerpt of Steve Rogers and Girlfriend being Dorks.

~

“I hate,” Steve said seriously, in his dark apartment with the blinds drawn on the night and his arm over his eyes, “–Mad scientists.”

“I can’t imagine they’d have many fans,” I said as sympathetically as possible. Steve had gotten hit by some device in the fight, right before it broke (naturally) and he was currently suffering with abnormally enhanced eyesight. Like, way, way more than was healthy, apparently. “Does it damage your eyes to use them?”

“No. I could even use them fine after the fight, we did a debrief, it just…” He put his arm down and squinted at me. I didn’t see anything different about them, but he was frowning pretty deep. “It’s like an overload of information and light and…everything. It’s driving me crazy, even in the dark, everything feels so– so pronounced. Sharp,” he said. “And it’s surprisingly hard to remember to keep my eyes closed.”

I nodded. Bruce had said it would wear off, thank fuck, but it still sucked to see him in pain. “What about a blindfold?” I said. “Keeps it nice and dark and if you accidentally open your eyes it might not be so bad.”

He was quiet. He was quiet for…a while. “I thought of that, earlier,” he admitted. “But alone, even in my own apartment, I didn’t feel…safe.”

“Hm.” Alone. I wasn’t much for protection, but… “What if you’re not alone?”

He seemed to give it real thought. Though he smiled and said, “You almost walked in front of a truck last week.”

“I noticed eventually,” I said and mock swatted at him. I shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah I wouldn’t notice all that you can, but with the sensory overload, how much information are you really able to parse and focus on?”

“Point,” he admitted. “And we are safe here.” He squeezed my side. “And it does sound like a good idea.”

One that might bring him real relief. His squinting looked miserable, and he still winced every few seconds. “Do you want to try it for a few minutes?” I said. “Just to see if it helps; I’ll be right next to you and we can take it off if it makes you feel too uneasy.”

More silence. “Please,” he said at last and I was already on my feet when he added, “In my closet there are ties– will that work?”

I turned my head towards him before I got out of the living room. “I’ll find somethi–” –and slammed my shoulder into the doorway. “Ow!” I stumbled back and rubbed it.

Steve snorted. “You can turn on the–”

“Shut up and shut your eyes,” I grumbled and left him to his efforts not to laugh at me on the couch. They were very unsuccessful. “I can hear you just fine,” I said, using my hand to guide along the wall until I made it to the bedroom and could safely turn on a light in there, and then I went to his closet and picked through my options.

~

[reinemichele]

Okay, I was going to make this post the day it happened, but I was already really distraught & felt like typing it all out would just like push me over the edge, and I still had to survive NYE fireworks. I decided to at least wait until after the 1st, but then Life Things kept happening, so I didn't get around to it until now.

My righteous anger has mostly simmered down, so but I think it'll probably still get long, so this'll be another read more post. TW for mentions of animal death, emotional abuse, and declawing

To be 100% super duper crystal clear: I am entirely against declawing; it's unethical and cruel and inhumane. This will become abundantly clear as the post goes on, but I just have seen too many pointless disc hoarse posts filled with people who gleefully, willfully misinterpret posts for any reason to harass people. I'm not going to leave myself open to people who'd send me death threats without even reading the full post. As it is, I'm turning reblogs off bc I don't want my post about my cat dying to be reblogged, but if I need to I can turn anon/asks in general off.

So. At 11PM on the 29th of Dec my cat gets hurt, we get to the vet by 12:30, and by 3AM he died. We got home by 4:30AM and none of us could sleep. We were all still awake at 10AM, and dreading the fact that it was a 3-day weekend and we'd have to face all of it trapped with our thoughts without having our normal day-to-day routines to buffer the first 3 days.

We know a lot of energy vampire type people. Liars, manipulators, people who'd come over to our house just to steal something for funsies, abusers. One of my mom's sisters was an accessory to murder. The same one stole my mom's SSN to open credit cards with. I have more examples, but my family tree bullshit could be its own post. A lot of them are in our family and there's some my mom basically has to keep in contact with due to her job.

So, it's 10AM, and my mom is dreading the 2-5 energy-draining people who consistently text her all day long, no matter what's going on or how busy she is. She can be with a patient who's actively in the process of dying, and they'll just text her "?" repeatedly when she doesn't respond.

She decides to tell these people about our cat dying the night before, in hopes that they'll give her space. Unfortunately, abusers like these people love to violate unsaid boundaries like this, so nothing less than blocking numbers/turning off her phone would work. But it's a step towards being able to say "no" that I've been trying to help her with, so we're going to be proud of her for it.

I don't want to use this person's name because as shitty as they are, they deserve privacy, so I'm going to use her initial.

V . responds . "Oh. My sister is trying to rehome her cat, maybe you can take it?"

So let's go over the timeline again. 11PM on the 29th -> 10AM on the 30th. In less than 12 hours since our cat died, V is trying to shove her sister's cat at us. Please don't try to give her the benefit of the doubt or say she was trying to help us feel better. There's not a single thing this person does that comes without ulterior motives; I've known her since 2015. She goes to strangers' funerals so she can brag about it later. She doesn't feed her own cat wet food, not because she can't afford it, but because she'd rather buy cheap dry food at the dollar store and spend the entire rest of her money on herself, like going on cruises/vacations while I petsit her cat. (And use our own wet food for her cat because it's cruel and fucked up and genuinely a detriment to a cat's health to only feed them dry food). This suggestion was nothing short of an impulsive launch at an opportunity to make her life more convenient, by finding a new home for her sister's cat, so her sister would stop complaining or asking her to take the cat.

My family has always had pets, and I'm the youngest in our house, so by the time I was born, a lot of our pets were already getting old and sick (12-15 for dogs, 20-25 for cats). The first pet that died in my lifetime was our dog Killer, when I was 4. My dad had already died, so I didn't need any lies about going to live on a farm or something. And of course it's always sad, but we've always felt like the best thing you can do to ease that pain is take in a new pet and provide them with a home. You get mutual love and happiness from each other, and day by day it gets easier. But, like, you take in that new pet after maybe a month or so. Not a fucking day.

Before continuing, for some extra context, 2 of our cats already had been from V.

The first one, Joey, she only had for a few months before becoming convinced he was peeing all over the house (hint: it was her 20 yr old cat who had chronic kidney/urinary tract problems from being fed nothing but DRY FOOD FOR 20 YRS @%^#&*^*&@#) and offering him to my mom's sister, who ended up dying a few months after that. (We don't know why or how; coroner declined performing an autopsy.)

We call V and tell her what happened, because we don't know what to do with Joey. Her reaction is like, "Oh... hmm. Huh. That's really a shame. Let me know if you find someone who can take him."

As in, "NOT IT!"

They hang up and my mom stares blankly at her phone screen. I say we should just take him home instead of leaving him in the empty apartment and stressing about finding him a new owner.

Flash forward to December of 2020. V calls my mom crying, saying that her (now ex-)husband thinks their other cat, Smokey, peed on his expensive speakers and is threatening to divorce V unless they find a new home for Smokey. V says all the local shelters are full and when she looked into people who'll temporarily house cats for owners, they charge $200 per day. She says she needs to find Smokey a new home like, now. My mom says we'll help her find someone but V is like, her husband has Smokey locked in a cat carrier and says she won't be let out until they find her a new home, that kind of now. We're like, jesus fucking christ, silently. I mute my mom's phone and say "tell her we'll take her". I'm sure she would've said that anyway, but like, instinctual response to hearing the thing about the cat carrier.

(Btw, he divorced V the next year anyway. I wanted her to be away from him, because he's so abusive and mean. But it's so fucked up that he forced her to get rid of her cat with the threat/ultimatum of divorce, only to follow through with the threat anyway. He could've just divorced her and let her keep her cat!!! She had to deal with the heartbreak of a divorce without the comfort of a cat she spent 9 years with!!! He moved out of state, but every time I think about this, I wish I could go and break his kneecaps.)

The problem to that is that Smokey . is declawed . So she has to be separate from our other cats 24/7 for her own safety. None of our cats are very aggressive or get into "real" fights with each other, but they're still cats, with sharp teeth and claws, with predator instincts, who act on those instincts when they can tell another cat is weaker, whose instinct during a fight with another cat is to swipe at their stomach to disembowel them. That's not something you want to take a chance on. So Smokey is exclusively in my mom's bedroom. Over time, we've started to let her out for 20-30 minutes at a time with supervision, but that's the extent of what we can give her without putting her in danger, and it can't be done while doing chores like taking the trash out or doing the dishes. All because V declawed her fucking cats. (Not Joey, but only because he wasn't with her for very long.)

Okay, with that context established, let's go back to V texting us on Dec 30th.

Of course, we could rehome her to someone who didn't have other pets, but she spent 9 years with V, and has now spent 4 years with us. She's a 13 year old all-grey short-hair cat with a bald patch on her belly and on her front legs and below her ears, so it'd probably take a very long time to find someone who'd pick her over a cute kitten, and even longer stuck in a shelter if they had room. And if we had chosen not to be her permanent home, we would've been keeping her at arms' length the entire time, trying not to get attached.

How would that be fair to Smokey? She deserves a life where she spends as many days possible feeling wanted and loved and safe. That's what I set out to do, and I think I've achieved it as much as I possibly could, around her being declawed. I do love her and want her. And I do keep her safe, obviously. I spend as much time as I can with her; we cuddle, we play, we watch birds, I share food with her (when it's safe for cats, obv). With V she was always hiding under the bed and never meowed, just came out to eat. With us, she never hides, purrs non-stop, and is very very vocal. She gets wet food and treats, she sits in the middle of the bed like she owns the place. She gets to be a cat.

I leave my room to go check on my mom. She relays me the text. I say . "What the fuck is wrong with her? It hasn't even been a day."

I ask, "Is V's sister's cat declawed?"

We, like, talk about what a transparently selfish and inconsiderate person V is. I tell my mom I'm gonna try to sleep, but then I stop in the middle of the room.

It's a balancing act to watch out for 1 declawed cat with our other cats, so it would take more mental energy to strategize life around 2 declawed cats, especially with how often I'm asked to petsit. You have to factor in how much time you can spend out petsitting (I usually spend 5 hours there at a time), time you can spend with the Have Claws group of pets (including a dog), and time you can spend with the No Claws pet.

Despite the... misconceptions about cats being detached and aloof, they want (and need) to spend time with you. They want to cuddle, they want to hang out in the same room, they want to hear your voice, they want to play, they want to snooze in the presence of someone they feel safe around; they love you. Same as with dogs.

My mom says she'll find out.

I get some sleep, then I wake up. My mom tells me that no, V's sister's cat is not declawed; she can't find anyone in the state to do it. That's why she wants to rehome the cat.

",,,, How could anyone say that without being ashamed?"

My mom shrugs. "I don't know. I told her, 'wow, we're sitting here miserable because we wish we had our cat back, and your sister wants to get rid of hers because she can't mutilate it' I don't think she liked that because she stopped texting me back."

We laughed.

Silence is telling, you know? V's 20 year old cat died last year, and my mom and I spent months hoping to god that she wouldn't get a new cat, because we didn't want her to declaw it. She swore up and down she regretted doing it to her other cats and would never do it again, but she's also a liar. So after she did get a new cat, my mom and I have checked to see if she still has claws every time we go over. So far she does... but probably because V can't find anyone to do it either.

But then it stopped being so funny when I realized it was probably only a matter of time before one or both of them crossed state lines to look for a vet who'd do it. We can't exactly steal V's cat, but if we take in her sister's cat, we can save it from happening.

I don't really have a good way to finish this. We'd rather take in a cat off the street or from a shelter than have Three cats that came from the same asshole, but if V's sister does declaw her cat, we'll feel responsible for it happening, even if we know it's not our fault.

I just wanted to post about how fucking insane it is to try to pawn off your (sibling's) cat less than 24 hours after someone's cat died. She's almost 70 and has no mental illnesses; she knows better. She's just an asshole.

[totaldramafan-lauri]

A decade on this hellsite (affectionate)

So, while I'm working on putting the finishing touches on this chapter, and am getting ready to work on other stuff as well, I...I have an announcement....

This is something I should've said yesterday, but I misremembered....

Uh...

I dunno how to say this super eloquently, but....yesterday was my 10 year anniversary on Tumblr! Wooooo!!

Yup! I joined Tumblr on November 6, 2013, and I've stayed here ever since! W-well, give or take a few hiatuses, but....I-I never LEFT, and that's what I'm celebrating....XD

When I first joined Tumblr, I did so to please a couple people I looked up to, who wanted to talk to me more. I'd been lurking on the website for quite a while beforehand, and didn't have a blog because I thought I wasn't an interesting enough person for one....and I also lowkey feared being made fun of. Yeah, I thought that Tumblr was a competition to get the biggest following, and if no one paid attention to you, you might as well not exist. That kind of mentality was pretty much drilled into me by the state of my current fandom at the time, which was ruled by a select few popular blogs and everyone else had to either conform to what they liked and hated, or get mocked.

How stupid of me, right? Tumblr is more than just the fandoms on it. Tumblr is literally whatever you make of it. You choose what to do and say, and who to engage with. Heck, even if you don't wanna talk to ANYONE, you can still use it for yourself. XD

Originally, this was purely a Total Drama fan blog. Then, over time, as I got more and more comfy with it, I talked about personal things more often, and then branched out, and just made it a me blog, in around 2015 or so. This ended up being the right choice. It became a second home, and grew with me over the years. I've gone through a lot - different special interests (many of which ended up being very important to me), a lot of personal changes, getting more comfortable with certain parts of myself - and Tumblr has captured all of that. At this point, I don't do anything for the attention. I just like putting it out there.

I've even accomplished things that 2013 me would've never tried...like, slowly embracing self-shipping culture, and all the fics I've written because of it. In 2013, I had my fictional crushes, but I was embarrassed about them and usually hid them behind OCs. And I'd never written a full fanfic. I was a former roleplayer. And now....Holy crap, I'm not saying I'm a GREAT writer, but...t-to try it, like it, and then KEEP DOING IT?? I call that an accomplishment....

I've met many people, including good friends, and....I-I like to think that....I-I've matured thanks to it. When you're in one place for a decade, it really influences you a lot, even in less obvious ways. I was a LOT more spontaneous ten years ago. I-I said some insensitive stuff that I didn't realize at the time. I stuck my nose in places it didn't belong, and I let myself get too pressed over the opinions of people I didn't even like. I don't do any of that anymore. I'm a lot more picky with what sides of my fandoms I talk to now. I'm still not perfect, but I've grown a lot, and it's cool to think....that this blog is essentially a document of my emotional journey.

(Not to mention all the Eurovision seasons, heheh....)

Does that mean my old posts from 2013 and 2014 are worth reading nowadays? HECK no, but I'm happy they exist.

I-I'm sorry that this is so word-vomit-y, but......point is, thanks for ten years. Here's hoping I'm still here in 2033. Until then.....I-I have an update:

I dunno why I didn't do this sooner, but I have a "Current Interests" page now, which I plan to update frequently. This'll make it easier to keep track of what I'm into at the present time. So that I no longer have to hide anything....just...laying it all out there for people.

I thought I needed it. I've just been lazy for waaaaay too long. XD I need to act my age and let people know what they're getting into.

[sapphicneige]

Since I'm taking a break from writing a very heavy one-shot fic for a little bit, I thought I'd just randomly throw out a writing update thing out there because it's been a while and I enjoy just collecting my thoughts in a post like this.

If you don't care about my writing, then feel free to ignore, but if you do, then please do read on!`

So... when it comes to my current WIPs, the one that hasn't been updated in the longest is You're my safe and sound. Currently, I think this is probably the least likely to get an update immediately. I'm actually about 2000 words into chapter 3, but it's mostly been the new volume that's halted progress on this fic. I've found it hard to go back to imagining what the characters were like back in V1 while I've been so fixated on what they're going through in V9. It's definitely not abandoned though, and I 100% will go back to this fic, so don't worry too much.

Next up we have silver linings. Funnily enough, I'm also about 2000 words into the next chapter of this fic, however, I actually expect this to get an update fairly soon. I already know what will be happening in this chapter and where things will be going, so it's just the process of actually writing these words down. This'll either be the next WIP to get an update, or the second one. It just depends on where my motivation falls and stuff.

The next one is A Mark We Won't Forget, which is actually exactly 4000 words into chapter 2. Unfortunately, that's only like halfway done for the chapter, and I don't see myself doing too much more for this fic immediately. The main reason for this is actually because the latter half of this fic is definitely going to be very NSFW and considering that I wrote The Storm is Going to Break When We Start very recently and end of a life is also in the middle of a very emotional NSFW scene, I've decided to put this fic to the side for a short while, and pick it up when I'm not writing so much NSFW scenes so that I can focus on getting the scenes I am writing as best as I can.

Penultimately, we have I don't ever think I can ever learn how to love you right which is in an interesting state because while I am very motivated to work on it, my brain is very hyperfixated on RWBY currently. Despite that, I'm about 2500 words into the next chapter and I think it's the other WIP that I think will be updated either next, or second. I think it's mostly due to the contents of the chapter, but I am really enjoying everything that's happening and it gives me a break from stuff like the angst of silver linings and the intense emotions of end of a life.

Speaking of end of a life, as of now, I haven't started work on chapter 13, but it is very high on my priority list due to the fact that I actually know everything that needs to happen for the fic to be finished. I have updated the total chapter count on ao3 now so that currently it says 12/15 because of what I think will play out, but that is subject to change. Despite the fact that it probably won't get an update before silver linings or I don't ever think I can ever learn how to love you right, it'd actually be my pick for the fic that'll get an update after those two do.

Anyway, with all that being said, while I don't know if anyone will ever read all this, if you do, thank you so much for your support on my fics. Writing is the thing that brings me the most joy in this world and you have no idea how much any support you give means to me. Each comment makes me smile, each kudos makes me appreciate you so much, each reblog on tumblr just makes me so happy. But, even if you don't do any of those, just reading the things I throw out there into the world, it means everything to me.

Thank you.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ THE DRAWING ❜

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Hi lovely! No idea if this'll make it in for the first 10, but please can I request one with Creeper where you're a bar tender for the club but you draw in your free time. Creep has a crush on you and one day one of the guys tease you because they realise you're drawing Creeper and he defends you because he thinks its super sweet and then asks you out on a date? 💖

BY @mycupoffanfiction

Warnings: none.

Word count: about 1.5k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl, who is making me such beautiful gifs ✨

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“LOOK AT THAT!”

You were peacefully drawing before starting your turn at the clubhouse, sitting on a couch on the porch. In front of your pencil, Creeper was fixing something in the engine of his bike. Until Angel takes off your sketchbook from your hands, laughing and with the clear intention of teasing you, calling everyone attention. Jumping off from the couch, you try to grab it, but when he decides to raise his arm over his head, you know that you're fucked up. You have been badly in love with Creeper since you met him. He used to be extremely kind with you, always taking care of you of whatever you need, without having to ask for it, or without complaining about it.

“Angel, give it to me”. You have one hand on his left shoulder, jumping and trying to reach the sketchbook with the other. But he's so tall, that you can't grab it.

“WERE YOU DRAWING CREEPER?” He starts to laugh louder, feeling your cheeks burning and stopping every move of your body, to punch his chest.

You can't turn at Neron, really ashamed, running inside the clubhouse to hide yourself. Bishop and Taza look at you from the pool table a little confused, until they hear the conversation outside.

“Damn… It's really good”. EZ says, touring with his eyes every minimal detail.

“Let me see”. Gilly holds it after cleaning his hands, nodding in agreement. “She fucking drawn his tattoos, damn”.

“Hey, yo', shitheads!” Creeper takes the sketchbook of his huge fingers, closing it without looking at it. “Yo' fucking assholes, leave the kid in peace”.

“Carnal, you should see it”.

“If she doesn't show me, I'm not allowed to see it. Neither of you all”.

Knowing that you were drawing him really melts his heart, starting to think that maybe you too feel something about him. Walking towards the bar, the president moves his head pointing at the hallway to the dorms, making him nod just one time. But actually, he just has to follow your sobs and the curses in spanish to the closed bathroom.

You're sitting on the floor, against the wall, with both legs curled and surrounded by your arms. The only thought that crosses your head is that, if you could have any chance with him, Angel burned it down. You shouldn't draw him, at least, not without asking. And probably he must be thinking that you're crazy or that it's weird. Or both. You don't even know if you're going to look him at the face again.

The knocks on the door pushes you out of your thoughts, raising your crying eyes terrified. Breathing deep, you get up from the floor, walking slow to it. Slightly opening the door, a tattooed hand appears holding your sketchbook.

“Did you…?” You whisper with a low tone of voice, taking it.

“No, and I'm sorry about what Angel did”.

Finally, letting him see you, he clicks his tongue a little upset.

“I'm sorry too for… drawing you. I hope they don't annoy you for much long”. You have your gaze on your feet, unable to lift it up.

“Can you show it to me?”

Frowning confused, and narrowing your eyes, you look for the sketch with trembling fingers. Turning it under them, Creeper leans forward taking some seconds to admire it. He likes it. Actually, he likes it too much. You have drawn him perfectly, not knowing about your skills with a pencil. He's really fascinated, holding the sketchbook to look at it closer. As he heard Gilly, focusing somewhat better his orbs, he can see the tattoos on his neck perfectly placed over the paper. Even the badge of his Harley is on it.

“Didn't know you… can do things like that”.

“Tell me you're talking about the draw and not about being… creepy”. You mutter rubbing your nose, slowly raising your gaze towards his. The gesture on his face races your heart, with parted lips

He suddenly breaks into hoarse laughs, shaking his head, and you can swear that it's the best thing you have ever heard. Fleeting smiling you tear off the drawing to offer it to him.

“Keep it, if you like”.

“Really?” He asks slightly frowning, moving your hand close to him, insisting. “Yo! Mama… thanks. It's pretty cool. I mean… You draw in an amazing way”.

He holds it between both hands, smirking at you like a child who is receiving the best Christmas gift of his life.

“I was thinking that maybe you would like to share some beers, after finishing your turn”. You can notice how he's trying to hide the nerves in his voice, surprising you for both facts. For the invitation, and for his feelings.

“Ah… Yes… Yes, 'course!” Quickly answering, you nod taking a step to get out of the bathroom.

“'key. So you can tell me about this hobby”.

“Yeah, sure”.

“Cool, ah... I have to go back. See you later”. He says, leaning at you to kiss your cheek.

You can watch him walking away through the hallway, happily focused again on your draw. And you're not sure how to feel, but you're about to have a heart attack.

While working in the bar, serving beers and shots with EZ, you have caught Creeper some times looking at you from his seat, spending more time inside the clubhouse than outside, like it's not normal for him. But what makes you tickle in your stomach is the way he has to push away every Vicki's girl who tries to sit on his lap, or to sit too close to him. And maybe that means something.

“Hey, kid. Table”. Tranq appears through the glass door.

Checking the hour on the screen of your phone, you get somewhat nervous when you notice that your turn is already done. Palming EZ's back, you step out from the bar after cleaning your hands, leading your steps to the inside of the Templo. The olders are there, counting money and dividing it into four rows. One is yours.

“Sorry about Angel, querida”. Bishop says when you're close to him. You just shrug.

Putting inside an envelope your salary of the last two weeks, he offers it to you.

“Yeah, he's a little stupid sometimes”. Taza chuckles, surrounding your waist with an arm and resting his head on your other side.

“Nah, it's okay”. You reply, putting an arm on vice's shoulders.

“You okay with Creep'?”

“Yes, yes. Don't worry. We are gonna share some beers now”.

“Uh, I'm feeling jealous”. Che says laughing loud.

“Nah, you are my fav”.

“That shit hurts, kid”. Tranq adds with feigned annoyance.

“Go get your boy, kid. And enjoy”. Bishop says, before letting you go to have your own party.

The other Mayan is already waiting for you with two cold beers in his hand and a cig in the other, sitting on a sofa next to his brothers. You can feel the same nerves on him that inside you, when you finally meet again. He gets up showing you a huge smile, placing one of his tattooed arms around your back, ignoring a ‘you are welcome’ from Angel. He's actually very proud of what he did unconsciously, looking at you two stepping out from the clubhouse to the sofas on the porch. Falling down on it, you curl your legs over it and against your chest, grabbing one of the drinks to have a sip.

“Why did you start to write?” He finally asks, seeming so interested in it that your insecurities come up.

“My… parents used to fight every day when I was little. I was stressed, so I… started to scratch a paper with a pencil until it was totally black”.

Maybe it's not what he was expecting, but now he looks more focused in every word your vocal chords pronounce.

“But it started to be insufficient. And I found out that concentrating all my senses in drawing, it was like I was alone in the world. So, now it helps me to disconnect, whenever I feel low”.

“You weren't feeling okay this evening?” Creeper asks, sounding worried.

“Yeah, no… I was feeling okay, I mean… I was just stalling and you looked good fixing your bike”.

“Yeah, I saw that”. He can't help but laugh nodding, drinking from his beer after having the last smoke.

“Did they… tease you too much?”

“Nah, I don't care. At least, I earned some kind of date with you”. Crashing softly the two bottles, he makes a toast. “For the first of many more”.

“Okay, next time, I wanna talk about your tattoos”.

“That's gonna be a long one, mama”.

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