#Respawn want to be his own person again

[cheemscakecat]

If Emesis Blue really is a Dream, I love the fact that BLU Medic sees RED the way he does.

Think about it, BLU Medic is a Catholic who knows he’s mentally ill and is trying his best to keep it under control. RED Medic is a megalomaniac who likes the challenge of playing god and made a deal with the devil.

And beyond that, BLU has other personalities that he doesn’t understand [who freak him out] and hallucinates them from time to time.

That’s the actual reason he didn’t attack RED immediately, he thought it was one of them from afar. It has to be trippy and difficult to deal with that guy IRL in battle with the personality issue.

And even if BLU doesn’t know it, if he thinks his other personalities are demons or something, they still act like people. Angry, revengeful people, but not monsters. This picture is such a good representation of the difference between the two. RED is feral and messing with powers he shouldn’t…. For fun. Fixing respawn failures is not “for fun” it’s meant to save mercenary lives. So RED would be Monstrous.

He’s still red hued even in this blue room, skin and hair too, like a demon. And given he joined Classic team in hunting his own crew and BLU mercs, it makes sense that he’s literally two-faced.

Something else that’s interesting is that BLU Medic’s eyes are only ever black/brown as the funeral version, and he has hallucinations that make that personality look demonic.

But again, funeral Medic acts like a human person that’s 100% done with BLU Corp and their lies, not a cryptid. He’s not actually evil like Ludwig thinks.

But RED Medic is criminally insane in ways that transcend other Gravel War mercs, and that’s disturbing to someone like BLU.

O no he crumchy

He just put Scout’s body in a coffin as respectfully as he could given the circumstances. RED Medic brought their team’s sniper back to life and there’s no way BLU hasn’t heard about it post-comics. He didn’t want RED touching Scout, even if it could bring him back. He doesn’t trust that maniac, and that’s 100% valid. Why?

BLU team doesn’t know RED personally. What they’re like at their base, living with each other. They don’t know that RED Medic was infiltrating Classic, not truly joining them. They don’t know what he was doing in the early 40s or how close he is with RED Heavy. And here’s the proof:

BLU Medic doesn’t know that this is BLU Heavy; he knows that he’s at RED base, and wouldn’t have a reason to believe that this isn’t RED Heavy. Especially after what happened to Scout. So from his perspective, RED finally pushed nature too far and it blew up in his face. Resulting in RED Heavy loosing his mind and attacking.

That’s also why he hesitates to run away from the big Hoovy; he might be in hearty agreement with defeating RED Medic and leave BLU alone. But that’s not the case, and so the context changes from “this guy no longer serves RED” to “this guy has lost the plot altogether, he’s just attacking anybody’.

We, the tf2 fans know that this isn’t how RED Heavy acts; he actually didn’t question Medic’s loyalty in comic 6 and was ride or die, so if anything he’d still be docile to RED. But nobody on BLU team knows that.

And BLU’s doctor believes that something terrible will happen to RED if he doesn’t stop messing with the powers that be, even though he has no idea about the demonic deal.

[certifieddilfenjoyer]

Astral Prism, Orpheus & Raphael Theory

So you know how most people in Baldur's Gate 3 fandom make the Raphael joke?

I'm here to tell you that it's extremely hurtful, because his character has a lot more depth than some of you are willing to see.

Behold, my Baldur's Gate 3 theory:

Right before we enter Act 3, we are jumped by githyanki who want to retrieve our Astral Prism. We are summoned to the Dream Visitor - The Emperor, to help him in the fight.

We find out then that our supposed ally is an illithid but there is one more guy, The Gith, the Orpheus, The Prince of the Comet.

You can ask the Emperor what the heck is a githyanki doing there and he will tell you the brief story about the War of The Comet*.

He is going to mention, that he is bound by INFERNAL chains. Hold on? How come?

After we are done with the Royal Guard, we can go to the upper left side from Orpheus's prison and find an ancient Githyanki disc. It will tell us, that Vlaakith had some infernal business conducted with a devil with wry charm. Of course Raphael isn't the only devil capable of being charming, but it feels natural for it to be him when he is already a very important character in game.

Baldur's Gate 3 Wiki says that it is indeed Vlaakith and Raphael.

OK, but why would they exchange the Astral Prism and is it Vlaakith getting it or Raphael receiving the relic?

He is giving it to Vlaakith. But how would he be in possession of such an artifact?

My theory: He is the one who had it created for that trade. (Commissioned from someone else)

Explanation:

If you look at Hope's and Orpheus's prison, you will notice a striking resemblance at the crystals that can be only shattered by the Orphic Hammer. A Hammer, that Raphael is in possession of! How convenient!

(Even Hope's and Orpheus' eyes are glowing in the same way when they are enslaved.**)

The runes and the design of both Astral Prism and Orpheus' shackles are also strikingly similar. It does not look like anything of Githyanki creation, it screams infernal.

But that still doesn't really add up, does it? Who would possibly create such a powerful object which plays such a major role in the plot?

Here, we have to familiarise ourselves with the wonderful post by Bearhugsandshrugs

Em explains above who the people visiting House of Hope are***.

One of them is a crazy, extremely knowledgeable wizard who specialises in creating copies of himself which prevents him from dying in battle.

When we kill Raphael, we kill him in HoH, in his own domain. He should be gone, for good! But yet, upon interacting with the Orb of Infernal Envisioning, we see that he is soon to be devoured by his father. Hells do not split into separate planes - so either Mephisto snatched his soul somehow (which seems impossible because his body is still there and devil's souls are their bodies) or Raphael respawned and his father took one of his clones or something like that. (He's just so cool I had to put it in here, but let me return to my theory now)

Another name on the list points out to Raphael's interest in different planes (even the ones which don't seem to be reachable) but also, magical puzzle boxes capable of holding items inside. As you can see, the name on the list is under the uninvited visitors section, which most likely means that they either fuel his soul pillars or have been turned into a soul coin. So it didn't have to be that particular person helping Raphael with the creation of the Astral Prism, but it points out to his interest in that topic.

Now, when would that even happen?

Karsus Folly took place in -339 DR, BG3 takes place in 1492 DR, around 2000 years later.

The enslavement of Orpheus - so also the Vlaakith trade - happened at around -4000 DR.

It is not impossible that Raphael was already around and scheming at that time. Why? Because Mephistopheles gifted Haarlep to Raphael most likely when Raphael was about to get the Crown before his father snatched it. Comparing their visual age, it seems that Raphael was already a young adult cambion at around the War of The Comet age.

Another thing is the fact that, Kith'rak Voss, the badass Githyanki Red Dragon rider, the sword of Vlaakith, found out about Raphael and contacted him and told us to get our ass inside Sharess Caress. Raphael doesn't mention him having an 'office' there, it's Voss who does it. Only upon entering the place, we can interact with Korrilla who's like, hey girl go upstairs Raphael rented a room hoping you'd drop by. HE KNOWS WE SPOKE TO VOSS, he has to! And also, Voss was around when Orpheus got enslaved! According to Wiki he was inside the Astral Plane when that happened. And Raphael has absolutely 0 interest in trading with Voss, yet the githyanki managed to reach him somehow. In my opinion, when he finally realised the lies of Vlaakith, he was looking for a specific devil, for Raphael, because he might remember him from back then.

(* Justice to my poor Githyanki, the most based and cool race in BG3. Imagine how painful it has to be to realize over centuries of time that you helped the self-proclaimed queen establish her tyranny over your own people because you've been brainwashed to believe that Orpheus is a traitor and Vlaakith the rightful heir of the throne)

(** The eyes, the chains, the crystals. The top of the Orphic Hammer is literally partially built from that same gem/crystal and on top of that, if you use Examine on it, it clearly states that it has been built in Infernal forges.)

(*** headcanon warning: The Amulet of Vigor that is present in the Archive is actually proven to have some... Other invigorating capabilities ☠️☠️☠️ and the old, ancient, crazy wizard has the boudoir privileges. Coincidence? ☠️☠️)

Anyways, to sum up:

• Githyanki disc shows us a deal between Vlaakith and Raphael where the devil gives her the Astral Prism.

• Raphael orders creation of the Orphic Hammer (the name itself, come on, it's such a mockery just like House of Hope) to make sure that he has the means to free him if it will benefit him in any way.

• In exchange for the Hammer, he receives some kind of knowledge of ascension to godhood. (Lae'Zel tells us during the game that ascension is the githyanki's greatest honour but it turns out it is nothing else but ensuring that Vlaakith remains alive and a god, because she just consumes the life force of her greatest warriors)

• Hope's and Orpheus's chains are strikingly similar and the part of the Orphic Hammer is built from the same gem/crystal that seems to be enslaving both of them.

So yea, my humble request is that you start fully appreciating the incredible writing of the game, instead of just focusing on the shallow 'haha bottom' jokes. I could make another post about that itself, but it's pointless. I hope you enjoyed!

[cheapposts]

Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.

It feels so weird. So wrong. Wasn’t he supposed to die in the end? Scar is pretty sure he was. He saw it with his own eyes: every winner before him died in the end. But for some reason, Scar didn’t.

At first he was confused. Maybe there’s been some kind of mistake. Maybe he’ll drop dead any minute now. But then a day came by. Two days. A week. And no god struck him down with a lightning. Scar was becoming more and more weirded out by that. He tried taking matters in his own hands, but no amount of jumping from a cliff to his death led him to freedom. He respawned again and again, wearing the same clothes with poppies and lilacs, having the same red eyes looking back at him from the river, staring at the same shade of red his name had every time he took his communicator in his hand and typed, "Hey?", "Anybody alive?", "Hello?", because what if the reason why he’s still alive is that he’s not actually a winner yet? What if there’s another player, and all he has to do to end this is to find and kill them, or let them kill him? But he never found anyone, and two weeks after the day he won, he stopped searching.

Three weeks after the day Scar won, he already had a new house going on. He settled at the edge of the map near mesa. "Screw this," he figured, "I’m not going to just wander around the land for months if the gods forgot to kill me. I’ll do things!" And things he did. After he was done with his new house, he fixed his old base, and tore down Mumbo's tower, and built a couple of things here and there. It was nice.

The next week was spent relaxing. He tended to his crops and fed cows he’d stolen from someone (not that the person would mind; they were dead). He died once that week and woke up in his bed again, but at that point it was starting to feel normal.

Five weeks after the day Scar won, he finally had to admit that the gods were not going to kill him. That for some reason, they decided to trap him there. Or maybe that’s what their idea of a happy ending was, maybe Scar happened to become the winner of the final game, the final round, and this was his reward. Maybe all the other players have gone home. Maybe Scar’s the only one left behind, and they live on without him.

There was no use in thinking about possibilities. It was only upsetting him. No - terrifying him. Instead, he took the matters in his own hands once again, and paid a visit to The Secret Keeper.

"I don’t want that," he said to it. "If this is my reward, I don’t want it. I want to go home. To Hermitcraft. Back to my friends. Back to where they’re alive."

The Secret Keeper didn’t seem to react. Scar felt his chest heat up with rage.

"Get me out of here!" he yelled, voice wavering. "You psychos! I- I miss my cat!"

The Secret Keeper didn’t answer.

Scar went home, laid down on his bed, and spent the evening thinking about Jellie's warm fur and his friends' smiles.

Scar wakes up and gets to live another day.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

TotK DLC idea!

The screen is black. You don’t hear anything for a long time. Then, faintly, in the distance, you can hear it.

Link. Link. Open your eyes.

While the line echoes familiarity, the voice does not.

Or. Well. It does. Because while it isn’t Zelda, it’s a familiar man’s voice speaking gently, so gently you almost don’t recognize it because there’s no way he ever spoke like this in the main game.

But he is now. And instead of a golden light being the first image you see before the screen shows Link awakening… you see gloom floating in the air. The image cuts to a Hylian waking up who… doesn’t look like Link from TotK?? He’s different, still small in stature, with slightly tanner skin, platinum light blonde hair, and red eyes. But… something’s wrong with his forehead. There’s a weird line on it.

This new character you apparently are gonna be playing in the DLC blearily blinks his eyes open, clearly groggy and too weak to really move. But then that line on his forehead moves a hair, it splits apart, and you realize it’s a freaking eye, red and yellow and it’s like the ones on gloom hands and oh gosh what the hell is it doing on his forehead—

Link realizes something is off and his eyes blow wide, his hands reach for his forehead and he screams in agony and terror, only for someone to scoop him into a hug to soothe him.

And suddenly you realize why that voice was eerily familiar.

It’s Ganondorf. He resurrected you from the era of the Imprisoning War. You, who have a history with him and his family. You, who he wants to protect, who he views as his kid, who he calls a prince and says he’ll keep you safe by controlling your body with his dark magic if he has to.

Welcome to Tears of the Kingdom: Hero’s Shadow.

You have to play a long gone Hero who was resurrected. Ganondorf, who is still recovering his strength in preparation for killing the current Hero, tasks you with finding your betrothed, his daughter, as well as his wife. They’re buried somewhere in the Depths like you were. He wants you to find their burial sites so he can use his secret stone to resurrect them like he did you, and control them as well. Which is doubly bad when you realize his wife was the original Sage of Lightning. He gives you free reign to wander once you go through a tutorial (he tests you to see if you’ve recovered enough strength), because he knows you love wandering and collecting things. Your own personal objective, however, is trying to help Hyrule from the Depths, to break free from Ganondorf’s control, because Link would rather set himself on fire than let Ganondorf resurrect and control the love of his life and his mother-in-law. Your best hope is to find shards of the shattered Master Sword to try and stab the eye on Dark Link’s forehead and break the control Ganondorf has on you. Until you can, though, the monsters are your allies, you can teleport across the Depths by manifesting out of the gloom created by gloom hands (just like what Phantom Ganon does), and the world below is your oyster. If you get too close to sword shards when gloom hands are nearby, Ganondorf can see your attempt and immediately takes control of your body, and no matter what button you press Link just walks back to Ganondorf’s location and stays there until you get a chance to try again.

You start with three hearts, all empty looking like when gloom hurts you, and if you get injured they just shatter. Whenever they all shatter, you respawn at Ganondorf’s location because his gloom hands came and rescued you from dying. The only way you can get more hearts is by collecting poes and offering them to the statues in the Depths. You can communicate with the spirits of soldiers, who may give you combat tips or info about the area. If you gain enough of Ganondorf’s trust, he’ll let you command monsters, and he might even let you wander the Surface (under his supervision) during a blood moon.

You learn of Link’s and Ganondorf’s history through discovering ancient relics/texts that trigger memories. This connection between you and Ganondorf stems back to time before the war, well over ten thousand years ago. Link was engaged to Ganondorf’s daughter, but during the Imprisoning War the family fought against the demon king. Ganondorf did love his family, but he loved power more. Link sacrificed himself, letting himself get mortally wounded to save Rauru from a killing blow. Gan held him as he died, and it allowed Link to both beg him to stop and stab him in the heart with a light shard. The shard didn’t kill him, but it was what Rauru connected with when he hit him in the chest, allowing him to seal Ganondorf away. Ganondorf still wants the world, but his love for his family is still present, though now twisted, so he thinks he can control Link and everyone else with his dark magic in order to keep them safe and in line. Once the threat of the current Hero is eliminated, the world will be his, and his family will be safe. As such, he treats you, Link, the player, like a stubborn child, reeling you in, but does so in a horrific way, torturing Link by controlling him.

You have to break free of this and stop him, and the only hope you have is the distant call of a sword spirit…

[starsstuddedsky]

Blown Up Love

reader x wonwoo

summary: gaming is all fun and... well, games, until you start crushing on the only person that takes pity on you and saves you from mobs.

genre: fluff, university au, gamer!wonwoo

warnings: swearing, death (but it's fake)

wc: 7.1k

a/n: i wrote this so long ago i forgot all my jokes - i haven't played minecraft in forever but i imagine playing with wonwoo would be so much fun - there will be a bonus eventually bc this somehow isn’t enough fluff for me

You run as fast as you can, hearing the groans behind you, a constant reminder of what followed not far behind you. You swerve to the side as another monster appears in front of you, a flash of white and the cracking of bones snapping against each other. You can’t help but scream as you hear a twang and realize that you’ve been shot. 

“Are you really leaving me like this?” You cry, praying one of your friends will take pity on you. 

“Don’t you have armor?” Jihoon asks. “Why didn’t you make a weapon?” 

“I just wanted to hide underground, I didn’t realize it was night time already!” You scream as you take another hit, trying to dodge trees and what feels like hundreds of monsters converging on you. “I'm literally outside the base, can someone please come help me?” 

“You’re so dramatic,” Seungcheol says. You don’t have to see him to know he’s rolling his eyes. 

“I’m about to die!” Your hands are shaking. You know that one more hit means death. 

You can see the light of the base, your last hope. If you can just make it a little bit farther, maybe you’ll make it. A figure moves toward you in the darkness and you instinctively turn away, though a moment later you’re sprinting toward it because you realize that it’s not a monster but one of your friends. Wonwoo. 

“Wow, you were not kidding, there’s so many,” he says. He charges in front of you, practically glowing in diamond armor. No, literally glowing. When had he enchanted his armor? 

You can hear him slaughter them behind you as you make a last ditch effort to make it inside. Just before you can open the door you hear another whizz, and something slams into. Everything turns red

Respawn or return to main menu. 

You stare at the screen. 

“I got your stuff,” Wonwoo says, voice as calm and even as ever. You sigh and click respawn. 

“Thanks for trying,” you mumble as you return to the game, your character waking up deep inside the base. 

“Sorry, I was in the middle of mining so I couldn’t really make it in time,” he says. You meet his character by the entrance to the base. You can’t help but smile at his skin, mostly covered by the glowing armor. You can still pick out the glasses he’d added to his skin, just like the ones he wore in real life, big and as round as he could make them in the pixelated game. You can almost see him in your mind, probably sitting in complete darkness in his room, wearing one of the three sweatshirts he cycled through. 

He gives you your items, tossing them in front, then vanishes into the base, probably to return to mining.You thank him again and wander around the interior of the base until you end up in the room you made for yourself. You had spent the last couple days dedicatedly designing the base, carved into the side of a mountain with rooms for all five of your friends to return to and put their stuff in. It was hours of work that was nowhere near being done, but you were enjoying every second of the rather monotonous work. 

What made you even happier was that your friends were actually using the rooms you set aside for them, each of them designing it a little to their own tastes. You might be absolutely terrible at fighting mobs, but you could at least build, and it felt nice that they weren’t totally disregarding that. Even if Wonwoo was the only one who would help you when you inevitably had to face the mobs. 

“Yn, are you still in the base?” Wonwoo asks. When you say yes, he asks you to meet him in the main entrance. 

You find him waiting, feeling inferior in your iron armor. He tosses you something. When you pick it up, you find out it’s an enchanted pickaxe, complete with unbreaking, mending, and fortune. 

“I figured it might be easier to work on this if you have, like, actually good tools.” 

“Thank you?” You can’t say you’re not surprised by Wonwoo’s generosity. You don’t know him very well. He’s Mingyu’s friend, and though you’ve hung out with all five of the guys many times this semester, he tended to be quieter and you weren’t convinced he didn’t hate you. Still, he was the only one on the server that didn’t bully you. 

“When did you get enchants,” you ask as you both go your separate ways. It’s finally daytime outside, so you deem it safe to continue working on the farm you were trying to design along the edge of the base. 

“It was pretty easy once I finished the villager farm,” he says. “Though I haven’t gotten around to reviving villagers to get cheap enchants. It’s on the list.” 

You frown as you climb the side of the mountain halfway up and continue designing what would hopefully be a sprawling pumpkin patch. “How did you have the time for that?” 

“I haven’t exactly logged off,” he says. 

“We started the server two days ago!” 

“It’s fall break,” he says. “I didn’t want to waste my time.” 

“I fear you.” 

“Hey, you guys are aware there are other people in this voice chat, right?” Mingyu says. 

“Shut up,” you say. 

“Get a room,” he says, pretending to cough. 

You can feel the blush spreading across your cheeks. It wasn’t that you had a crush on Wonwoo. He was just tall, and objectively attractive, and really nice, and smart, and he had saved your life more than once. Okay, maybe it was a small crush. 

“Can we set a time to kill the ender dragon,” Seungcheol asks. “I’m getting blaze rods right now.” 

“Okay, I think I have enough ender pearls,” Wonwoo says. “Want to try tonight?” 

“You are aware it’s already almost nine, right?” You say. 

“It’ll take like two minutes with all of us,” Jihoon says. 

“I’ll text Jeonghan and see if he wants to join,” Mingyu says. 

“I’m guessing no one cares that I’m not ready at all,” you grumble. 

“It’s not our fault you care more about picking flowers than playing the game,” Seungcheol says. 

“Hey! I have not been playing with flowers! I am an integral part of this server, if it weren’t for me you all would be living in dirt shacks!” 

“Yeah, but we’d still have diamond armor,” Jihoon says. 

“Why don’t you just ask Wonwoo for some armor.” Mingyu snickers. “I’m sure he can afford to support you.” 

You’re glad that it’s just a voice chat because otherwise you’d never hear the end of their teasing. 

“I do have an extra set of armor,” Wonwoo says. “Also, I have a ton of leftover books from enchanting that you guys should use.” 

“Maybe you have spent too much time on this,” Mingyu says. 

“What am I supposed to do?” 

“You’re an English major,” Mingyu says. “Don’t you have an essay or some books to read?” 

He laughs. “If you can find an English major that actually reads, I’ll log off.” 

“Do not log off until we’ve beaten the dragon!” Seungcheol says. 

“We could do it without him,” Mingyu says. 

“Sure you could,” Wonwoo says. “Yn, are you getting the armor or not?” 

You’ve been working on the farm outside, but as the sun starts to set, you begin to go back inside the base, not wanting a repeat of the previous night. “I’ll just die if I go with. Can’t I just stay and work on the base?” 

“Nope, you have to come,” Mingyu says. “Server rules.” 

“You can’t just make up rules on the spot,” you say. 

“ Jeonghan is coming, so no excuses.” 

You groan, knowing there’s no way out of it now. Jeonghan had joined exactly once, decided he was bored because Jihoon wouldn’t make him a “god” and hadn’t been on since. But it seemed like Mingyu was going to dictate friendship rules through Minecraft, so you were stuck. 

“Here,” Wonwoo says, appearing in the halfway-finished room that you made for yourself. He tosses you a full set of armor, and when you pick it up you find that it has full enchants. He must not have been lying about spending his entire break on this game. 

“I owe you!” You say. “Pretty much all I own is cobblestone and seeds but I will return this armor with only, like, minimal damage.” 

“Unless you fall into the void,” Seungcheol said. 

“Don’t even joke about that!” You say. 

Wonwoo laughs, his deep voice almost melodic. “You’re just scared because it’s a very real possibility.” 

“Not you bullying me, too,” you say, switching out the armor. “I thought you were on my side.” 

“I am,” he says. “And honestly if you really do fall into the void it’s fine, I can make a new set in probably ten minutes. Probably less.” 

“Can we make a rule about flirting in the main voice chat?” Seungcheol asks. 

“Fine, Wonwoo, join me in VC-2,” you say. Your heart is pounding a little as you pause the game and switch voice chats. It’s painfully quiet for two seconds as you wait but finally you hear the ding of someone joining you. 

“I’ll pay you real money to kill Seungcheol,” you say. 

Wonwoo is quiet for a moment. “Right now?” 

“Okay my bank account is a little empty, but next week I can buy you lunch?” You say. 

“Are you… hiring me as a hitman?” He asks. 

“Yes?” 

“Two lunches and it’s a deal.” 

“Done.” 

You switch back to the main voice chat, and hear the second half of Mingyu explaining that there is no way you are bold enough to actually be flirting. You hate that he’s right. 

“Back so soon?” Mingyu asks, cutting himself off mid-sentence. “Seungcheol, you owe me five dollars.” 

“I really just live in your head rent free, huh?” You say. “Making bets on me now?” 

“Actually, the bet was about the enchants that Wonwoo just gave me,” Mingyu says. “None of us believed you were actually flirting, but feel free to keep that inflated ego of yours.” 

You wonder if you’re going to be able to stop embarrassing yourself in front of Wonwoo. With Mingyu and Seungcheol around, probably not. 

The voice chat is mostly quiet as everyone goes to their own individual tasks. You are back to developing the farm (during the day). Jihoon and Mingyu are mining together and chatting about their spring schedule, while Seungcheol says he’s still getting blaze rods because he wants to make potions. Wonwoo is silent. 

You are starting to think he was giving up, when suddenly Seungcheol shouts. “Hey, what the hell?” 

“What’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks. 

“Something is shooting me.” He curses. 

“A blaze?” You ask, hoping your voice doesn’t sound as giddy as you feel. 

“No, what the fuck, it’s coming out of nowhere.” 

You’re struggling to stifle your laughter. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna die,” Seungcheol says. “I’m actually gonna die what the fuck, I’m at two hearts, where is this coming from? I’m actually dying, I-”

kkakkamori was killed by VvWonwoovV. 

“What the fuck, Wonwoo?” 

“Nothing personal,” he says as you finally burst into laughter. “Just doing business.”

“You just killed me!” 

“I got your stuff,” he says. 

“Keep talking shit about me and I’ll make sure you never see a day of peace,” you say, cackling at Seungcheol’s curses. You can hear Mingyu and Jihoon laughing, too. You wonder how many lunches it would cost to take them out. 

“I won’t forget this,” Seungcheol says. “I’ll get revenge.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Wonwoo says. 

“I can’t believe you killed me,” he says again. “Were you invis?” 

“Yeah, I used some arrows of harming and spectral arrows, too, just in case.” 

“Dude, you killed me in like five shots.” 

“Okay, Wonwoo is no longer allowed to be hired as a hitman,” Mingyu announces. “It’s not fair.” 

“Hey! Can’t I choose how to sell my services?” Wonwoo asks. 

“Was it worth betraying me?” Seungcheol pretends to be hurt. “How much did my life cost?” 

“Two sandwiches,” you answer. 

“I’ll never forgive you.” 

You laugh, and then smile even more when you see Wonwoo has texted you a smiley face. 

Me: Good job, partner, you send him. 

Wonwoo: Just doing good business. 

You turn back to your computer. There’s still another hour until Jeonghan could get on to beat the ender dragon, and it occurs to you that you’ve been playing for nearly four hours. You tell the guys you are going to come back later, signing off and getting out of your chair and stretching. 

You check your phone as it dings. 

Wonwoo: don’t forget to refill your water! 

You frown. You must have mentioned it to him while playing. You grab your water bottle, trying not to overthink the fact that he remembered when even you forgot. The more time you spend around Wonwoo, the harder it is to deny how lovely he is. 

.

.

You stare at the options. You wish Wonwoo hadn’t trusted you to get him something, or that you could have remembered to ask him what he likes, at least what he dislikes. 

You finally choose a BLT and a chicken sandwich and pray he isn’t vegetarian. You scout a table out and snag it, laying your backpack across the seats opposite you to save them. A few minutes later, you see Wonwoo making his way through the crowd of people filling up the dining hall. As he gets closer, you see Jeonghan and Jihoon at his sides. You tell yourself you didn’t notice them because Wonwoo is so much taller. No other reason. 

You wave them over, grabbing your backpack as they slide into the seats, Jeonghan next to you while Wonwoo sat directly across from you. You point to the sandwiches. He frowns but ends up picking the chicken sandwich. 

You slap Jeonghan’s hand away from the BLT. “That’s my lunch!” 

“Why does Wonwoo get one, then?” 

“It’s his payment,” you say, picking up your sandwich. 

“You’re telling me Seungcheol hasn’t whined about his murder to you yet?” Jihoon asks. 

“You know, I sort of tune him out when he starts talking about Minecraft,” Jeonghan says. 

“He is being a little dramatic about it,” you say. 

“You can’t say anything, you're the one that ordered a hit on him,” Jihoon said. “I’d watch your back.” 

“It’s a video game!” You say. 

“You know Seungcheol,” Jeonghan says. “He can hold a grudge when he wants to.” 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan were your first friends in college. Technically you went to high school with them, but you didn’t really become friends until last year, when the three of you somehow ended up at the same school. 

That’s how you know Jeonghan was exactly right. You glance around, suddenly worried that he was going to appear and exact his revenge in the middle of the dining hall. 

“Was it worth it?” Jeonghan asks Wonwoo, who is somehow almost finished with the sandwich. 

Wonwoo shrugs. “I’m not going to lie, the sandwich was a little subpar.” He checks his watch, then nudges you with his foot. “We’re going to be late to lab.” 

You groan. “Why did we let Mingyu convince us to take this horrible class with him?” 

He laughs as you stand up and follow him, grabbing your half eaten sandwich and waving goodbye to Jihoon and Jeonghan. As you walk beside him, you realize this is the first time you’ve been alone with him since you realized your tiny crush. Trying to match pace with his long stride is even more difficult when you are also trying very hard not to think about the way his arms hang on his sides, the way his hands are so close to yours and how easy it would be to slip your fingers in with his. Luckily he seems to notice you struggling to keep up because he starts taking smaller steps. So sweet. 

“So was the sandwich really that bad?” You ask. 

“It’s campus food,” he says. “It’s never good.” 

“That’s true.” 

He glances at you, glasses glinting in the sunlight. “I’m not sure I can really count it as payment.” 

You freeze. “This is extortion! I’ve paid you for your services, you can’t demand more!” 

“I don’t think that’s what extortion means.” He says. “And I’m not saying the sandwich doesn’t count. Just, maybe, a better second payment.” 

“You’re going to make me go broke,” you say. “Well, more broke.” 

He laughs. “Nothing expensive.” He holds the door to the science building open for you and you try not to read into it. 

“What about the café? It’s better than the dining hall,” you say, heading into the stairwell. You catch a glimpse of a grimace across his face as you turn up the stairs. “What is it?” 

“Jihoon’s ex works there and apparently being friends with him means that I’m hated too.” 

You snort. 

“What is it?” 

“I can’t believe Jihoon dated before I did.” 

“It surprises us all,” Wonwoo says. “Though I’d barely call it dating. They broke up after a week because Jihoon is Jihoon and realized his feelings were just superficial and no one really takes it well but his ex… It’s safe to say we mostly just avoid the café on principle.” 

“Noted,” you say. You’re in the hallway outside the classroom now. You really don’t want to go inside, because, seriously, why do three hour long classes exist? Chatting with Wonwoo was an added bonus to avoiding the torture. You idle outside a couple minutes longer but you really are in danger of being late and Wonwoo is starting to look antsy. 

You finally step inside, waving at Mingyu who is already sitting at the table. He’s grinning, as he always is. 

Mingyu was the reason you really had friends. Though you knew Seungcheol and Jeonghan in high school, it was only because of Mingyu that the friendship lasted past your first semester, hanging out with them throughout the spring semester, keeping in touch with them over the summer, and even taking a class with Mingyu. 

Mingyu is the reason you ever met Wonwoo, and, sitting in class and definitely paying attention to the lab introduction and not staring at the back of Wonwoo’s head, you can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. 

.

.

You can’t remember who suggested it first, but it was Jihoon who ended up making the server, the first day of fall break. It practically belonged to Wonwoo now, since he was by far the person that played the most. You have no idea how he finds the time to play and do his work and sleep, but every time you log on, he has something shiny and new. 

It has been two weeks since the server started. You spent too much of fall break playing and generally leeching off of Wonwoo, but have only logged on a couple times since then. It’s Friday, though, and you even did one of your readings, so you feel like you can afford to spend a few hours working on the base. You aren’t surprised when you log in and Wonwoo is on. 

You’re prepared to play on your own, but Wonwoo asks if you want to join a voice chat and there’s no way you’ll say no. 

“It’s been so lonely,” Wonwoo says as soon as you join. “No one ever plays.” 

“It’s like we’re college students,” you say. You wander around the base, deciding you would keep working on designing the interior with the new types of wood that someone “anonymously” gifted you (you knew it was Wonwoo). 

“The trick is to not do anything until the last possible second,” Wonwoo says. 

“I can’t say that sounds appealing to me,” you say. “What are you doing right now, anyways?” 

“Just prepping for my next project,” Wonwoo says. 

“That sounds vaguely suspicious, should I be concerned?” 

He’s quiet for a moment. Finally, he asks in a low voice, “Can you keep a secret?” 

His voice is just serious enough that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. “Is this real life or in game?” 

Wonwoo laughs. “This is in game, though I guess the question technically applies to both.” 

“Well, no one knows about the Incident, so at least Mingyu would say yes.” 

“He made a fool of himself, didn’t he?” 

“I’m sworn to secrecy.” 

You decide if making Wonwoo laugh was all you did for the rest of your life it would be worth it. Something about the way his deep voice echoed in your ears made your heart skip a beat. 

“Okay, come to Seungcheol’s base,” he says. 

“The secret one?” You start heading there when Wonwoo says yes. The second day, Seungcheol decided he wanted to have a secret base, which meant in two minutes everyone had figured out where it was. 

At least, where it used to exist. When you get there, Wonwoo is standing around the blown up remains of the Seungcheol’s base, a giant crater created by TNT in the middle of a flower field. 

“What happened?” 

“Jeonghan,” Wonwoo says. 

“You know what, that actually makes sense,” you say. “Didn’t he say he’d only join if Jihoon let him play in creative?” 

“Yeah, that was not happening,” he says. 

“Is Seungcheol’s stuff still there?” You wander around the crater, seeing the remains of what Seungcheol had built, a few chests that remained. 

“I can’t tell,” Wonwoo says. “I’m not really sure what he had to begin with or whether Jeonghan bothered to save his stuff, but the chests that survived seem to be pretty organized.” 

“Wait, I still don’t get how he blew up Seungcheol’s house.” You emerge from the hole, standing at its edge beside Wonwoo’s character. 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out,” he says. “I’ve been on this server, like, almost twenty four-seven and I haven’t even seen him on, so I really have no idea how or when he did it.” 

“Someone must have helped him,” you say. “Oh my god, there’s an entire conspiracy. We have to get to the bottom of this!” 

“Conspiracy?” 

“It’s obviously not Seungcheol,” you say. “He’s going to be so mad when he comes back on.” The sun is starting to set. “Can we sleep through the night? I really don’t want to hide for the next ten minutes.” 

“Sure,” he says. You return to the base with him, mind still racing trying to figure out who was enabling Jeonghan. 

“Obviously it’s not your or me, so that leaves Jihoon and Mingyu.” You think about your two friends. You could see Mingyu doing it, because he was bullied by Seungcheol at least once a day, but usually Jeonghan was also involved, and you know Mingyu’s too busy being a STEM major to really dedicate his time to the game. 

So Jihoon? You don’t think he has much motivation, but he has been playing a lot and maybe he had some unknown score to settle with Seungcheol. 

“We should set up a stakeout or something,” you say. “Figure out who his supplier is.” The iron door swings shut behind you as you and Wonwoo return to the base. 

“A stakeout might be kind of intense,” Wonwoo says. 

“Okay, less of a stakeout and more of ‘you keep playing all day every day and find out if anyone is suspicious’ kind of thing.” 

“This sounds like I’m going to be doing all the work.” 

“Do you not spend most of your time here anyways?” You say. You go into your room and lay in your bed. “Bed!” 

“Okay true,” Wonwoo says as the screen fades. “But I actually have an essay due tomorrow and next week so I can’t really be on as much.” 

“Wonwoo? Being responsible?” You pretend to be shocked but when he laughs and your heart pounds so loud you forget that you were teasing him. 

“So how do we find out who’s helping him?” You ask. “It seems like we don’t have many options.” With the sun back in the sky, you decide you want to work on a tree farm with the generous saplings that had been donated to you. 

“We'll investigate together,” Wonwoo says. “Maybe next time Mingyu or Jihoon will leave evidence.” 

You nod in approval, though he can’t see you. “Sounds good. I’m going to grind resources for a little while if you want to go back to whatever you were doing.” He’s quiet as you both play, the silence between you not awkward but strangely peaceful. He doesn’t complain when you ask him to sleep every night, even reminding you to get back before the sun sets. 

Though you know he’s not nearly as invested as you are, it’s also fun to be in on a conspiracy with him. Maybe it’s just the fact that you have a secret between the two of you, but it makes you feel a tiny bit closer to him. You are finding that everything you learn about him just makes you like him more. 

.

.

“Should I be worried about how much time you’re playing on this server?” You ask as soon as you join the server. 

“No time for that!” Wonwoo says. “I’ve been hit!” 

“No way!” You sprint to his section of the base, and indeed, it’s been blown up. Wonwoo had spent hours personalizing what had initially just been a hole in the wall, designing a bunch of rooms with resources from the nether and the end and creating redstone machines that you didn’t even try to comprehend. 

Most of that is gone now, a crater even larger than the remains of Seungcheol’s base. 

“Oh my god,” you say. “You’ve been nuked.” You join Wonwoo and Seungcheol at the sidelines. It’s been a week since the last attack, and Seungcheol has joined your party of justice. You’re a bit sad that it’s no longer something you had just between you and Wonwoo, but looking at the remains, you couldn’t deny you needed the help. 

You take a step forward and there’s an ominous click. 

“Yn, run!” Wonwoo shouts. You try to run but you panic, pressing the W instead of the S. You hear hissing and it only worsens your panic. 

The first explosion doesn’t kill you but it scares the crap out of you and you can’t help but scream. “Help, help, help!” 

“You’re running the wrong direction!” Seungcheol says. 

“Stop laughing at me!” You groan as you die in the third explosion. Seungcheol doesn’t stop laughing, but what pains you is you can hear Wonwoo chuckling, too. 

“I guess not all of the TNT was blown up,” Seungcheol says through his laughter. 

“Evidently,” you say. “I kind of hate this game.” You click on respawn, heading back to the remains of Wonwoo’s base. You stay as far back as possible. 

“I’m sorry,” Wonwoo says. You can tell he’s still trying not to laugh. Traitor. 

“It’s not your fault,” you say with a sigh. “Though Jeonghan better watch his back.” 

“I’m sure he’s really scared,” Seungcheol says. He wanders carefully around the interior but there doesn’t seem to be any more traps. 

“I have our high school yearbook from freshman year.” 

“Have I mentioned how much I like you? Really, you’re one of my favorite people, ever,” he says. 

“Very convincing,” you say. “Tell Jeonghan to watch his back.” 

“Are the pictures really that bad?” Wonwoo asks. 

You cackle. “I’ll send them to you.” 

“Wait, why does he get them?” Seungcheol whines. 

“We’re partners in… not crime,” you say. “Partners in solving crime? Justice?” 

“That doesn’t sound right but I want to see the pictures, so, whatever you say.” 

“Did you both forget I’m still here?” Seungcheol asks. “Third wheeling?” 

“You’re not a third wheel, you’re a part of the team, too!” You say. “Partnership plus Seungcheol.” 

“That’s literally a third wheel.” 

Wonwoo bursts into laughter. 

“Why am I even here?” Seungcheol sighs. He logs out of the game. “I’m going to do actual homework.” He leaves the voice chat. 

“Did we just annoy him into doing actual homework?” You ask. You are still standing in the wreckage of Wonwoo’s base as he tries to fix it. 

“I guess so,” Wonwoo says. “I don’t think we were actually excluding him or anything, were we?” 

“I didn’t think so,” you say. The problem was, when you talked to Wonwoo, you didn’t exactly pay attention to what you were saying to anyone else. Maybe you should work on that. 

“So, Mingyu or Jihoon?” You ask because it’s been quiet for too long. 

“What?” 

“Which one do you think did it? Or, helped Jeonghan, same difference.” 

“Oh, right,” Wonwoo says. “I’m still not sure, I didn’t notice anything suspicious about either of them.” 

“You aren’t the best at investigating, huh?” 

Wonwoo laughs. “No, I’m really not.” 

“I guess we could just interrogate them.” You wonder if you’re taking this too seriously, and maybe that’s why Wonwoo isn’t answering. “Or, I mean, it is your base that’s been blown up, so we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to.” 

Wonwoo is quiet a second too long. 

“Sorry, I guess it’s really not that big of a deal,” you say. 

“It’s not that-”

“It’s okay, I just thought it was funny, I didn’t mean to take it so seriously.” 

“Yn-”

“I actually probably should go do some homework too.” You leave the voice chat as quickly as possible, logging out of the game immediately after. It was silly of you to think that Wonwoo wasn’t just entertaining you the entire time, but it still hurt to realize. 

You sigh and turn away from your computer, despite the fact that the homework was not just an excuse and you really did have a lot of it. You just didn’t feel very motivated, instead thinking of how you had to somehow face Wonwoo tomorrow and pretend like you didn’t just get heartbroken over a video game. 

.

.

There’s a gentle poke to your cheek. “You can’t sleep here.” 

“Comfy,” you mumble, burying your face deeper into your arms. 

“Come on, wouldn’t you rather sleep in your own bed?” 

“Sleepy.” 

“Come on.” The hand on your shoulder is gentle, but relentless, shaking you until you finally blink awake, sitting up. You instantly feel sore, stretching the arm that had been your pillow. 

“How long was I out for?” You ask with a yawn. 

“I’m not really sure.” 

You freeze. You are 100% that when you fell asleep studying earlier you had been with Mingyu but that was definitely Wonwoo’s voice. You turn your head slowly, finding Wonwoo standing a couple steps behind you. Your heart does its usual gymnastic routine, though it’s worse because you’ve been awake for all of two seconds and Wonwoo looks picture perfect in his sweatshirt and perfectly combed hair. 

“What are you doing here?” You try to smooth your hair, praying there’s no red marks on your face. 

“Mingyu called because he had… actually he didn’t say what he had, he just said he had to go and that he didn’t want to wake you up, and he just told me to come here and study but the library closes in ten minutes, so we should probably go.” He folds his arm over his chest. 

“Right,” you say. You stand up and stretch a little more, still blinking sleep away. You hate finals week. You stuff your computer into your backpack and try to organize the papers around you. Wonwoo steps beside you, trying to help. 

“Is there an order to this?” He asks, trying to read your scribbled notes. 

“There was once, it doesn’t really matter now,” you say. “The exam is tomorrow and I think I’ve stared at those as much as I can.” He doesn’t say anything else as he helps you gather them and shove them into a folder, sticking it all into your backpack. You turn to leave but he stops you, pointing to the outlet. 

“Is that yours?” 

“Yes, oh my god.” You grab the charger from the wall, tossing it into your backpack. “Thank you, I would have cried if I lost that.” You do a final sweep of the room, not seeing anything else that’s yours. 

“Ready to go?” Wonwoo asks. You make the mistake of glancing at him, leaning against the doorframe with his backpack on his shoulders. He’s been so patient with you it doesn’t feel fair. 

You nod, following him out of the room and falling into step beside him. The sleep is finally starting to wear off, and you are beginning to feel awake. The library is beginning to clear out, though you’re surprised at how many people there still are. 

“How many tests do you have tomorrow?” Wonwoo asks. 

“Just the one.” You sigh as you walk down the steps. “It’s a major requirement but it’s so dumb, it’s not helpful at all.” 

“I’m just happy the science class is over,” he says. “No offense,” he adds quickly. “It was really fun to see you twice a week but I’m never letting Mingyu convince me to take a class with him again, that class was horrible.” 

You shudder, remembering the final. You can only pray that you passed the test. Your memory is so bad you almost miss Wonwoo’s half compliment. “We should celebrate being free!” You stop in your tracks, just before the exit. “Oh my god, I forgot!” 

“Did you leave something in the room?” He asks, turning to face you. 

“No!” You grab his sleeve. “I forgot to pay you!” 

He frowns. “For Seungcheol?” 

You nod. 

“That was just a joke,” he says with a laugh. He tugs your hand off of his arm, pulling you to the library doors. “I felt bad even taking the sandwich.” 

“I can’t believe I forgot!” You say, ignoring his dismissal. The December air is chilly as you step outside and you pull your jacket tighter around your shoulders. 

“You don’t actually owe me anything,” Wonwoo says. “Seriously, it was a joke.” 

“No, but I feel bad, I promised you I would do something for you and I completely forgot about it!” You stop him under a streetlight, laying a hand on his wrist.  Your breath makes little clouds in the air between you, dissipating quickly in the frigid air. Whatever you were going to say, you forget because Wonwoo is staring at you and he’s practically glowing in the bright light, and you are suddenly reminded of the day he tried to save your life. Knight in shining armor is the phrase that comes to your mind. 

Your heart is pounding as you stare at him, unable to look away. His dark eyes, magnified just a little by his thick glasses lenses, stare back at you. Though he’s only a couple of feet away from you, the distance feels like miles. 

His lips look a little chapped in the cold air, and you wonder what it would be like to step a little closer and press yours against his, whether they’d be rough or soft, whether he’d kiss you back. 

You clear your throat. “I’m sorry anyway.” You’re not sure why you say it, but you finally tear your eyes from his, dropping your hand from his arm when you remember it’s there. You wish you could hold his hand. You stumble back for a couple steps before finally convincing your feet to work. You’re vaguely aware of Wonwoo mumbling, “Don’t worry about it,” and falling into step next to you. 

He walks you to your car, neither of you daring to say anything after the strange moment. You’re struggling to think straight, especially with him still at your side. More than anything, you need your bed. 

“I’ll see you later,” he says when you open the door. You force yourself to smile and wave goodnight to him before getting into your car. You lay your head against the wheel, wondering why you can’t just pretend like these feelings don’t exist. 

There was no way Wonwoo didn’t think that was awkward, and you were now going to spend the rest of the night wondering just why you couldn’t stop staring at him when you should be studying for finals. 

Maybe you should just drop out. 

.

.

“It’s not what it looks like!” Wonwoo says. You join the voice chat before your game loads, but before you can say anything, he’s stammering. “I swear, it wasn’t supposed to happen like this!” 

“What are you talking about?” You say, but a second later your game loads and you have no words. When you left a couple days ago, you had been in the middle of your base, logging off after spending a couple hours perfecting the hallway design (the trick was to mix and match the different types of stone). 

It’s all gone now. You spawn in a crater of what you hand spent all your time on, barely recognizable amidst the remains. You see Wonwoo character appear and realize that the explosion had just happened, blocks littered around you. 

“Wonwoo,” you say slowly, trying to understand what was happening around you. Everything you had worked on, gone. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he says again. 

You start to understand, though it doesn’t make sense. “It’s been you? All this time?” 

He says nothing, character in front of you as frozen as you feel inside. 

“I can explain,” he finally says. 

“No, I get it,” you say. “Actually it makes way more sense, you’re the only one who spends enough time to really supply him.” You try not to let the hurt show in your voice. It made perfect sense, really. What you didn’t understand is why he lied, why he played along with you when it was him all along. How many times had you talked to him about thinking it was Jihoon today, or Mingyu the next? You feel embarrassed, now, knowing how stupid you sounded. 

“Jeonghan wasn’t supposed to destroy everything,” he says softly. 

“Is that why you think I’m upset?” You’re not being fair, but you don’t particularly care right now. It shouldn't hurt, but it does. “Because my shit got blown up?” You log out of the game, staring at the discord chat. You and Wonwoo are the only ones online, which is good because you really don’t want anyone walking in on this conversation. 

“You spent the entire time on the server working on it,” he mumbles. 

You laugh. “I spent my entire time on the server hanging out with you,” you say. It’s good you're behind a screen because otherwise you would never have the confidence to do this, even if that made you a coward. “I really don’t care about Minecraft, Wonwoo. I like you.” 

It’s so quiet you can hear your heart pounding over your headphones. You’re frozen, unable to click out of the voice chat though you know the silence is your answer, and every second that he doesn’t say anything means is him trying to figure out how to say that your feelings are unrequited and you just ruined the friendship. 

Okay, completely ruined might be an exaggeration but it won’t ever be the same and it made you sick to your stomach that you had just blurted it out because you were butthurt about a dumb game. 

“Did you really just confess to me over discord?” Wonwoo says. It's always been impossible to decipher how he feels from his voice but you’re going crazy trying to figure out if he really doesn’t sound mad or it's just your wishful thinking. 

 “Um. I guess so?” 

He laughs, that stupid laugh that makes your heart flip in spite of the fact that you’re terrified. “I’m sorry, this is just the worst way to do this, you seriously couldn’t wait one more week?” 

“You really don’t have to make me feel any more stupid than I already do,” you say. 

“Oh my god, no, that’s not what I mean!” He says quickly. “Yn, I like you, too.” 

“Oh.” Oh. 

“I just didn’t think it was the best idea to tell you over discord,” he says. 

“Yeah, that would be really dumb,” you say, trying to get your brain to comprehend anything other than I like you, too. 

“If you waited literally one week, I would have told you in person,” he says. “I had a plan and everything. Actually, I had a plan to do it after finals but I sort of chickened out and then we both went back home and I had to reschedule, but I swear I was actually going to do it.” 

“Right,” you say. “Wait, what? I really have no idea what’s going on, I can’t believe you actually like me back.” 

“You’re an idiot,” he says. “How could I not?” 

You have no answer to that, realizing that any insecurity you tell him would be shot down. 

“I can’t believe this is how I told you,” Wonwoo says. 

“I can pretend I didn’t hear you?” 

You smile at his laugh, his voice sending a shock straight to your heart. “Or we could just meet up the second you’re back?”

“Like a date?”

“If that’s what you want,” he says. “It’s what I want, if I’m not being clear,” he adds quickly. 

You wonder if you’ll ever stop smiling. “Yeah, I definitely want.” Eventually your vocabulary will return. Hopefully. 

“So it’s a date?” Wonwoo asks. 

You open your mouth to answer but there’s a ding and someone else joins the voice chat. 

“Hey, perfect!” Jeonghan says. “Yn, I’m supposed to apologize for blowing up your base, that wasn’t supposed to happen. Actually, that’s what Wonwoo told me to say but honestly I’m really tired of listening to the both of you flirt without actually doing anything and I blew it up on purpose so that I can now say this: yn, Wonwoo likes you. Wonwoo, yn likes you. Have fun!” There’s another ding and he’s gone. 

“I don’t know if I’m more mad that he planned that or that it sort of worked,” Wonwoo says. 

“Yeah, he actually makes no sense,” you say. 

“And yet it worked,” Wonwoo says. You wish you could see the face he’s making now, wondering if he’s smiling like you are. 

“So, it’s a date?” He asks again.

Yes,” you say. “It’s a date.”

[leportraitducadavre]

Edo-Tensei implies the sacrifice of a living human being for their body to become the vessel of the soul they're trying to bring back. What this author means is that Sasuke and Sakura are willing to perform inhumane acts to "see each other again".

The jutsu was created by Tobirama, someone Sasuke despises.

This is the same jutsu Orochimaru, whom Sakura admitted to hating as he "took Sasuke away from Konoha", used; why would she willingly use a jutsu from his book?

The caster has complete control of the person they summon, the person that was "revived" has no real volition of their own. Obito, who used to love Rin, never even entertained the idea of summoning her (and thus, controlling her), what a disgusting thing to do to someone you "love".

This is the same man who canonically has the chance to see his wife whenever he pleases, yet he doesn't, why on earth would he revive her? Why wouldn't he revive Itachi, Mikoto, or Fugaku for that matter?

Sakura has little to no knowledge of füinjutsu, let alone enough chakra to perform something like this.

Sasuke having a "moment" with Itachi doesn't translate to him actually liking the technique.

"Sasuke and Sakura are only thinking of a possibility" is just as awful as performing it; they're willing to do such a monstrous thing to others to fulfill their selfish wishes. The fact that they didn't do it isn't because they aren't prone to do so, but because they didn't have to, as both are still alive.

Edo-tensei is not romantic, at all. It's one of the worst techniques ever invented as it was devised to seek control over powerful (deceased) shinobi to use their souls/techniques as tools of military power. The person revived has no control over their actions, so they see themselves committing acts they might not agree with because the person who summoned them wanted their strength. Its origin was about complete control of a human being (humiliation likely plays a part, as having no control over your body yet having your mind intact is the ultimate form of torture), the possession of the power of others, and the ultimate tool as those revived receive no real damage as they respawn.

Edit to add: This line was, in fact, in Sasuke Retsuden (in the manga adaptation Sasuke never actually confirmed this, as it was Sakura who replied for him -lol-). Jun Esaka just butchered the entirety of Sasuke's characterization, this woman was paid to write a SasuSaku story and couldn't even bother to understand and respect the characters' original personality, having to modify everything about them and using their trauma as a "romantic device" to show "how much Sasuke and Sakura love each other". I have no respect for her as an author, at least, not as an author inside the Narutoverse.

[oneoftheeggs]

Can I request Adamsapple with this prompt? You can choose how far they go.

"Why are you mad?" "I'm not mad, I just think you could choose better people to kiss."

Thank you for the prompt, Anon 💛

Let me know what you think 😁

Prompt: "Why are you mad?" - "I'm not mad, I just think you could choose better people to kiss."

Word Count: 1.420

Pair: Adamsapple

Characters: sinner!Adam ; Lucifer ; Angel Dust

Warnings: Adam's charming self ; Jealousy

'Come to the masquerade,' Lucifer had said. 'We can have a nice evening,' he had said. Well, screw him! Screw him and that stupid, charming smile of his. Screw him and his stupid, beautiful eyes.

Adam's fists were clenched tightly as he threw open the front door of the hotel, scaring a new resident so badly that he promptly fled to one of the common areas in the back. Adam didn't care. He was too busy trying, and failing, to contain the anger that was boiling up inside of him. The stinging pain his, not quite new anymore, claws left on his hands helped, a little at least. It had been months since he had been killed by that little monster people around here called Niffty, and since he had respawned in hell. As a mere sinner of all creatures. During these months, Lucifer had taken him in and made sure that Adam didn't get himself into too much trouble. They had gotten close during these months. Or, at least, that's what he had believed. Apparently, he had been wrong. Scratch that. Of course, he had been wrong. How stupid he had been. To believe that Lucifer would for once choose him! Laughable. He should be used to not being his first choice. Still, it stung.

Adam slammed the door shut with as much force as he could muster. If it hadn't been built with magic, it likely would have fallen off its hinges. But like this, it just rattled in its frame for a bit before even that stopped, and it stood just like it had before. Mocking him in its intactness. Adam sort of wished it would have broken. Maybe that way someone, Vaggie for example, would have yelled at him, and he could have let this frustration out in a good old screaming match, but like this, he had no choice but to stand there, grit his teeth and seethe silently.

"Someone's in a mood." A familiar voice laughed from one of the plush couches that had been arranged in a seating era just right of the entrance.

Adam shot an angry glare at Angel Dust. The spider demon lifted all four hands in a placating manner.

"Jesus, calm down. What's gotten your panties in a twist?" a smirk played around his lips. "The night didn't go as you expected, I take it?"

Adam wanted to throw an insult at the demon's head. But he had learned that none of the ones he could think of right now would have the desired effect. Dammit. He let out a sigh, his shoulders sacking a bit with the escaping air and anger, and he marched his way over to the demon. "No," he finally agreed, letting himself drop onto the couch, next to Angel Dust. The demon had only a moment to get his legs away from where he was lounging, to avoid Adam just sitting on top of them.

"Brute," he muttered under his breath, but Adam chose not to honor that with a reply.

He could feel the Demons eyes on the side of his head, and he turned to look at him with a scowl. "What?"

"Maybe," Angel Dust started, "You should just talk to him." One of his hands shot forward to motion to him. "Explain all of this, and spare the rest of us your moods."

Adam's expression soured even further.

"Maybe you should take a dip in the next lava-lake," he snarled.

Angle Dust has the audacity to laugh. When did these demons stop being afraid of him? Probably, when he had died on what had essentially been their front porch.

"You're always such a pleasure to be around, man."

"And you are-" Before Adam could finish his sentence, the front door opened again, much softer than it had with Adam's own entrance, and gave view to the past person Adam wanted to interact with for the rest of the night.

Shit. Adam glanced over at Lucifer. Maybe Angel Dust's presence would deter him from trying to talk to Adam. He surely wouldn't want to interrupt them in the middle of a conver-

"Oh look, that's my cue!" Angel Dust said, standing up swiftly, and Adam felt the sudden need to choke him. Too bad that idiot would probably enjoy that. Angel Dust threw him an anything but subtle look, before marching to the stairs and practically sauntering up them. Not, however, without giving Lucifer a big grin and calling, "Talk to your man" thought the entire lobby. Adam would kill him.

Lucifer threw a questioning look after the demon that disappeared up the stairs and shook his head, before turning his attention to Adam. The man had all but frozen on his spot, and so he didn't move an inch, when Lucifer approached and took the place Angel Dust had vacated.

"You're mad," he obsevered.

Mad? MAD? Oh, Adam wasn't mad, he was furious. He was...

"I'm not," he denied.

The King of Hell raised an eyebrow. "And that's why you are pouting in the lobby, instead of having a good time at the ball. What happened? I thought you liked balls."

Adam ignored all his instincts to make a joke. Instead, he shook his head, decidedly not looking at Lucifer.

"I'm not pouting," he said, pouting. A low chuckle from Lucifer was his answer. Seriously? Was that asshole making fun of him now? How fucking dare he?

"Hi, 'Not pouting' I'm-"

"Don't you fucking dare finish that joke!" Adam hissed, whipping his head around to stare daggers at the smaller man. Lucifer grinned, but before Adam could scream at him further, he had already grown serious again. Placing a hand on Adam's shoulder.

"Come on, Adam. I can tell something is wrong. Why are you mad?" Warmth radiated from the place where his hand lay, and Adam did everything in his power to not lean into the touch.

"I'm not mad," he insisted again, if only because he didn't want to allow Lucifer the satisfaction of being right. And then, because he was stupid and couldn't stop himself, and maybe because Angel Dust's words echoed in his mind, he would never tell him that - he added. "I just think you could choose better people to kiss."

He regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth. Lucifer's eyes widened momentarily, before a sly smile stared to play around his lips.

"Better people?" he repeated, his hand trailing down from Adam's shoulder to his biceps. "Like whom?"

Adam could feel the blush that exploded on his face and trailed down his neck. God, his whole body was burning, and he quickly averted his gaze.

"I... I don't know," he coughed. "Better people than that ugly demon you were making out with at the ball!" He wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Lucifer or himself that he hadn't meant anyone in particular.

Lucifer sighed. "First of all, she is a friend of mine, and I would appreciate it if you wouldn't insult her. And Secondly, we didn't make out. I gave her a peck, as a greeting."

Adam rolled his eyes. Friend his ass.

"Yeah, a peck on the lips," he pointed out.

"That's just what we do!" Lucifer said, and Adam didn't need to look to know that he was shrugging unapologetically. Asshole.

"But, you are right," Lucifer continued. "You are not mad. You're jealous."

If possible, the blush on Adam's cheeks grew even more intense. "I-" he started, but Lucifer didn't let him finish.

"Jealousy is a sin, Adam," Lucifer breathed quietly. When had he gotten so close? Adam could feel his words ghost over the side of his neck.

The man swallowed, turning his head to finally look at Lucifer. They were so close now that all it would take for him to finally taste these lips was a little movement. He stayed frozen in his spot. Lucifer smiled. That stupid, charming smile of his.

Then he leaned forward, and Adam half expected him to press their lips together. But instead, he went for his ear, while the hand that had held his biceps stroked up to softly hold the back of his neck in place.

Now Adam couldn't move, even if he wanted to.

"You know," Lucifer whispered softly, sending a shiver down Adam's spine. "How about, we go upstairs? And you tell me more about that better Person I could be kissing."

God, that devil was going to be the death of him... Again.

[solaneceae]

imprint

a team bolas oneshot. q!baghera centric (read on ao3) hurt/comfort, found family

Day Five is technically one of the good ones, because their minds are not drowning in bloodlust and fog-mist, Foolish is making great progress on the castle off in the desert, and the other teams have been leaving them alone for the most part.

Doesn’t mean it’s a good day for Baghera, though. “My body’s so far away,” she whines, rummaging through the chests in search of iron armor and food. “You need help getting back to it?” Phil asks. The duck shakes her head, because she refuses to make him waste twenty minutes just chaperoning her as she stumbles around the map looking for her corpse. “I’ll be fine,” she sighs, picking up a diamond sword and fastening her mask onto her face. It requires some adjustments, with her having a beak and all, but she makes it work. “I’ll be okay.”

(Ten minutes later, her eyes open to dark cave ceilings and glittering gemstones, body tingling from respawn. She wants to scream.)

Phil is back with more resources, and Baghera feels strange. Not bad, just… strange.

It’s a feeling that’s been lingering even since they all fell into Purgatory, growing stronger or weaker in no discernable pattern, always somewhere at the back of her skull. Like a voice almost, not also not that, because there are no words being whispered, only vague drives. And right now, as their fearless leader busies himself at the crafting table, she gets the uncontrollable urge to get his attention. Hello, she chirps, walking up to him. He hums, but doesn’t acknowledge her further, too focused on his task. Her hindbrain gives unhappy. Hi, hi, she tries again, getting into his personal space and jumping around him and what is she doing? “Phil, Phil,” she quacks, look at me, pay attention to me! She forgot what she needed, what did she need? Hi, flock, dad, dad! 

“You’re— Jesus Christ,” Philza bursts into laughter, evading her smaller form as he moves to a nearby chest. “You’re getting in the way, Baghera.”

“Do you have a boat?” she asks, and right, that’s what she needed. He cocks his head, an amused smile on his face. “Do I have a boat.”

“Yee.”

“I don’t— I mean, sure, I can make you one.” She makes a happy sound, bounces off her heels as he gets to work. Flock, dad. Hello. “I’m not, you know I’m not gatekeeping crafting shit,” he laughs as he hands her the boat and she magicks it into her inventory. “You could make your own.” And yes, that’s true, she could. But she likes it when Philza hands her things, like earlier when he dropped food onto her when she was stuck in that hole. It makes her brain happy, somehow.

It only hits her later, when Phil has gone off somewhere, that she had started to truly associate him with that hindbrain-thrum of dad, not as a bit, but something way too real for her taste. She resists the urge to crawl into a hole and shrivel away, and decides to make one last attempt to recover her old body.

(It fails, as things tend to do today. But at least she got distracted.)

***

The silence is deafening. She can hear the occasional grumble in Portuguese coming from her earpiece as Cellbit works on the maze inside the castle, and she wishes she was there making traps instead of getting dirt all over her wings. “I want to kill some people,” she huffs as she digs through rich soil to plant yet another tea sapling. At least farming she could do without messing things up. “I wanna just— run at them and scream.” Can she have that? Can she have this one thing, can she have a little bit of fun today before her timer runs out?

Cellbit hums into her earpiece. “I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he says, and she can feel another part of her wilt at his final tone. “Death counts too much today, you know?” (You will die, his words twist in her tired mind. You’re weak. You can’t be left alone. You’ll drag us down.) “And Phil did so much for us this morning, I don’t wanna disappoint him.”

Well I already did! she wants to scream. I’m just a dead weight, and I waste everyone’s time and don’t accomplish anything on my own! “...Okay,” she replies instead, whisper-soft, and just keeps planting.

(She misses the rest of the family-flock. She misses Jaiden, and Charlie, and Carré, all asleep inside the nest with no sign of waking up anytime soon. She wishes she could join them, put an end to this cursed day already — but she clings onto her fear of letting Cellbit down even more than she already did, and presses on.)

Cellbit renames Iris after a commercial mascot, and that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back. And she knows she shouldn’t be mad, because he doesn’t know she’s just spent twenty minutes having a breakdown over them and imprinting like crazy, but she just feels so dismissed by that. So she buries herself somewhere in the desert and screeches out her frustration where he can’t hear her, comms off.

***

“Baghera?”

Her ear feathers twitch. She looks up from the little cozy spots she had made for Iris (they’re gone now. Probably with Cellbit, helping him withe the maze. the maze she wanted to help with. She wishes Charlie had woken up earlier, so they could commiserate over their shared feelings of inadequacy.) “Phil…?” she sniffles, quickly rubbing at her cheeks to erase the evidence of her breakdown. Didn’t the crow run out of time earlier today? She hears a ch-ch-chrrrrp, and she mimics it without thinking, hindbrain buzzing with something soothing. Philza Minecraft appears from behind a corner, and his eyes are soft  or maybe he’s just tired. “Come here,” he beckons, and she finds himself getting to her feet and stepping up to him. “Something wrong?” she cocks her head at him, and he chuckles lightly. “Nah, mate. Just come over here.”

He leads her out of the alcove and into their… sleeping quarters, which was just another part of the cave with their nest in the middle. “Kay, sit down,” the crow says, patting the side of the nest, and part of her panic with the childish fear of oh shit, am I in trouble? “You’ve got sand in your feathers. Lemme help you get that out before you bring it with you in the family pile, yes?”

Oh. She glances at her comm, realises she only has about twenty minutes before it knocks her out for the day. She clacks her beak in frustration — she had accomplished a whole out of nothing today. Fais chier. “...Okay,” she sighs, because at least a little preening sesh would be a decent way to end this shitty day.

“I noticed you were having a rough time,” the crow hums, carding his claws through the down on her arms to dislodge a few pebbles. “Thought you could use some TLC.”

She blinks owlishly (duckishly?). “I don’t know what that means.”

“Ah, like, just taking care of you a little. You felt sad and frustrated all day.”

She deflates, ear feathers drooping. “Didn’t think it was that obvious.”

“It’s not. I just notice this shit better than most,” Phil hums, dislodging more sand that drop outside the nest and digging his claws further in. Baghera closes her eyes — it feels nice. Her wings had been so itchy all day. “Especially when it comes to other avians.”

Right. Philza had retained more memories of his time outside the island than most of them, that made sense. “I’m sorry for calling you dad,” she blurts out, before she loses the nerve to. “I know everyone… I know everyone did it, for the joke, but I think I forgot it was a joke.” (“Dad, are you proud of me? I killed a silverfish!”) 

She remembers Charlie belting out a ‘papa!’ when Phil came back with apples and berries two days ago. She remembers Jaiden calling him dad when he bandaged her left wing after a bad fall, Cellbit’s whiny ‘daaad, when are you gonna come pick me up?’, Carré jokingly moaning out a ‘gracias papi!'. Foolish is the only one that didn’t follow the pattern at this point, probably because he, too, is an immortal being… and the only one free of daddy issues and trauma, apparently. “I don’t mean to,” she breathes out. “My brain’s been all weird since we came here, and I don’t… I don’t mean when we get all starved and murder-y.”

Phil hums, plucks out a loose feather. “Yeah, same. Something about this place is fucking with our code I think. Mob code, specifically. That’s why they’re buffed to hell, It’s not your fault.”

“But it’s,” she groans, struggling to find the right words, both because of the language barrier and her own messy feelings. “You already have kids. I’m an adult. I can’t force that role on you, but my stupid bird brain keeps screaming at me. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s natural, Baghera. I don’t mind. And… forgive me for pointing it out, but if what you said yesterday was true, then you’ve never had an older avian to imprint on as a child. So it’s no wonder your instincts are going crazy now.”

She freezes. “...Oh,” a quiet realization, shame, regret. “You, um. You understood that.” You took it seriously. You remembered. Somehow, that makes her feel… a bit better. Seen. Despite the fact that she just blurted out her deepest darkest secret as a bit, and lo and behold, consequences. Phil shrugs. “If it makes you feel better, I don’t think anyone else did,” he hums, smoothing out her left wing with a satisfied croon. “Gimme the other one? Good, nice.”

“You’re not mad?” she asks, so quiet and hesitant Philza stops and looks up at her. “That I’m a clone. That I’m… Federation property.”

“Don’t say that shit,” he bares his teeth, puts his hands on her shoulders to squeeze them tightly. “They don’t owe you. It doesn’t matter if they made you or whatever, you’re not them. If anything, you’ve got even more of a reason to hate them as the rest of us.”

“I don’t know…. I don’t know what they did, to me. I don’t even think I’m a real avian.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m not like you. Or like Jaiden.” she gestures to her left wing. “I have a bill, you have… human face. Mostly human.” She makes a strangled sound. “Your wings are on your back, mine are just my arms, they’re just this. And even if— even if they weren't clipped, I couldn’t fly with those, only glide, maybe. I know that. They made me wrong.” Her eyes well up with angry tears. “They all… my siblings, they’re all dead, Phil. They all died, and I’m the only one left, and I’m not even good. I’m defective. Maybe that’s why I mess up everything. Maybe that’s why I’m such a burden for you guys.”

“Dude, stop.”

Philza closes his mouth before he can protest, both pairs of eyes turning to a sluggish Charlie, sans glasses, pushing himself up from his blankety prison without rousing Jaiden or Carré. “That’s… that’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard you say. And we debated about human milk cheese and the ethics of eating your own eggs, so that’s saying something,” he mutters, more serious than the duck has ever seen him. The effect is a little diminishes by his squinty, smaller-than-usual eyes (she was so used to seeing him with her glasses permanently stuck to his face) and the yawn that drowns out the end of his tirade, but it still makes Baghera’s breath hitch and her throat close up with emotions. “Charlie…”

“Okay look— I barely feel real right now, yeah? I just woke up, and I haven’t got a modicum of context here, but I’m not letting you talk shit about yourself.” The slime hybrid hauls himself up with a wince, the corruption on his arms and face buzzing and writing angrily for a second. “G-ah. T-Thisssss is gon-gonna b-be a bad, ba-aad day, hu-uuh.”

“Slime— wow, mate, maybe you should lay back down and wait it out.”

“S-Sorry d-aaaad, I’m going th-through mmmmy rebell-bellious phase.” Charlie staggers up to them and sits across Baghera movements stilted and visibly uncomfortable. The duck hybrid opens her bill to tell him off — no no stop it, you’re hurting yourself — but he wraps both arms around her and rests his forehead against her shoulder, the tingle-freeze of his codified parts stunning her into silence. It doesn’t hurt, and she’s not about to refuse a hug from a constantly touch-starved Slime, but it does sting a little. Like static shock, but not quite. “You’re so fucking great dude,” the man says, corruption leaving his voice as the glitches diminish in intensity. “I never told— never told you this, but the first day we met. The wedding? That was the first time in a while that someone was willing to go along with my bullshit.” He squeezes her a bit tighter. His face feels a bit wet agaisnt the feathers of her shoulder, and Baghera lets out a string of hurt? hurt? no, flock, clean. “It felt good. And— hey, not only that, but you were also the only one where who didn’t have pity, or scorn, or, or distrust written all over your face. But maybe I just didn’t know how to read duck body language at the time, haha.”

“I wasn’t pitying you,” Baghera murmurs, trembling arm coming to rest against her friend’s back. Words feel like jagged rocks going up her tight throat. “I didn’t know anything about you. I just found you funny, and you listened to me when we talked about the elections. You kept making sure I was being heard, and… and you were nice to Pomme on her birthday, too. That was enough for me. You know?”

Slime chuckles wetly. “Yeah. She’s a great kid. We’ll fucking get her back, okay?”

“I hope so…”

“Hey. Listen.” He draws away to cup Baghera’s face, squishing it slightly between his hands. Her feathers puff up as a result, it’s funny. “Listen well, Baghera Jones. My—” a sharp intake of breath. “M-My Flippa’s fine, yeah? She’s just waiting for me back at the island, she’s not in danger. But your kid is. And if… haha, if I can be sappy for a sec. With Jaiden, you’ve been the closest thing to a real friend I’ve had for a long time. So I’ll help you get Pomme back, alright?”

The duck’s green eyes well up with tears, some of which start painting dark streaks down her face. “Of… of course I’m your friend,” she sniffles, and she keeps making low chirp-trills Charlie doesn’t understand. “And you’re mine too. I care about you, Charlie.”

“I know. I… I know. And I won’t have you saying bad things about yourself either. You’re litterally so fucking cool, and you put up with my bullshit like nobody else, and I feel safe blurting out the most unhinged crap on God’s cubic Earth because I know you’ll just double down and make me question my sanity, in the best possible way.” He giggles, an unsteady, wild little thing slightly cut up by a stray glitch. “Or whatever’s left of it.”

Baghera’s comm beeps, startling the three of them. Philza approaches (had he moved away to give them space? Aw.), scoffs, glares at the bright red numbers on her wrist. “Fuckin— stupid-ass time limit,” he curses. “We don’t have much time, but we can end your day on a good note, okay?”

The duck hybrid glances at Philza, then at Charlie, pupils so wide the green can barely be made out. She takes a deep breath, thinks of the team. Of her children, waiting for her somewhere. Of everyone else that they lowkey hated right now. And she nods.

***

“Do it Baghera, do it!”

“That’s right, fuck ‘em up!”

“I’m doing it!” the duck woops, pouring the final bucket over the structure and watching it roll across the soil and crops who quickly start to catch on fire. “It’s working, it’s working!”

“Baby’s first lavacast,” Phil coos fondly from his roosting spot, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “I’m so proud.”

He and Charlie watch as Baghera cackles madly, her eyes alight with the fires of war, staring down at her handiwork. “They are so gonna know it was us,” Slime hums, a huge smile on his face as he marvels over Blue’s farm being covered in ash and cobblestone. Phil shrugs. “Yeah, there’s no way. Worth it though.”

“So worth it,” the slime hybrid nods approvingly — Baghera was finally having fun, and seeing her smiling was definitely a highlight of today. “Oh we’re gonna get fucked in the ass tomorrow. No lube, all diamond sword just like God intended.”

Philza bursts into mad, crow-like cackles at that, hitting the slime hybrid’s shoulder to push him off the perch. Charlie falls with an indignant, high-pitched scream that makes Baghera laugh even harder. “How much time left?” the Crowfather calls out at her, and she turns to him with a mad ducky grin. “Eleven seconds!” she quacks back, and Philza’s eyes widen. “What?!”

“Yepp! Gonna pass out now see you tomorrow catch me or let me die I don’t care I have nothing on me!” she sing-songs rabbit-quick, pulling a little jig on top of her dirt tower before her body seizes with a gasp, her comm shocking the literal daylights out of her. Slime lets out a loud oh shit and takes off in a mad sprint as Philza jumps down as well, managing to cushion the duck’s fall with his own goopy, goopy body. “Ow,” he whines, voice muffled by the loose dirt he’s faceplanted into. “My sometimes-existing bones.”

“You good mate?” Philza reached them both, kneeling to check on Baghera — not a single heart of damage on her, her face neutral and peaceful in electronically-induced sleep. “Good catch.”

“Thanks.” Charlie lets his friend roll off his body with a grunt, pulling himself back together quickly before, hauling his friend on his back. “Mission accomplished, Crowfather Phil! Now let’s skedaddle the fuck outta here before Tubbo or BitchBoyHalo shows up.”

“Yeah, time to dip. Back to base, Bolas!”

“WOOOOOOH YEAAAAH! LET’S FUCKING ROLL!”

[theminecraftbee]

Grian stares at the same wall that he has been staring at for so long that he’s lost track of the seconds he’d been counting in his head. He’s not sure the seconds are exactly accurate, either, but they’re probably more accurate than the shiny gold clock Grumbot Prime had given him when he’s expressed his frustration that time kept on slipping through his fingers. After all, he thinks part of the point is that he doesn’t know how long it’s been. He hasn’t gotten hungry in just as long, or thirsty, and he’s been tired, but it’s the bored sort of tired, not the tired of lowered saturation or hearts.

The first thing he’d checked for was things to kill himself on. There hadn’t been any. No respawns for Grian. No damage, either. Just...

If he stares at the wall long enough, he can almost see through the saccharine blue walls. They’re mocking. He knows the walls he’d built the original Grumbot weren’t the most realistic things, but they’d only had but so many colors, and they’d had the ability to modify Grumbot’s programming anyway, and he’d seemed to think it was real enough. Besides, he’d been setting himself on fire. Melting his own circuits. He’d been eating himself from the inside out. Forgive Grian for wanting to come up with the only life support he could think of without overwriting his son’s personality.

...his son clearly hasn’t.

Or, well, Grumbot Prime is not his son.

Hard not to think of him that way, though. As a not-son. They don’t talk the same, but it’s painfully close. Close enough that Grian keeps on calling him Grumbot without the Prime in his head. Probably not good for him to keep doing that, though, considering.

Grian keeps on staring at the wall.

“Why am I here?” he asks again.

It takes a moment to get the piece of paper.

IT IS NOT SAFE

“Bullshit!” Grian says, startling himself at his vehemence. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself! I’m not going to fry my brain because I can’t do a resistance or whatever. Ren can be king if he wants. I’m over it.”

The wall remains tauntingly blue. Grian resists the urge to claw at it again. He hasn’t been able to break it. He suspects there’s obsidian or, worse, bedrock somewhere behind it. That, or it’s not real. That’s a possibility too. Grian hasn’t been getting hungry, after all, and while beacons may be able to do that on their own, there’s another answer to that one as well.

He hopes he’s awake. This would be a miserable nightmare if he were in the matrix again or something.

“You just have that, that - I said I was sorry!” Grian says. “I’m not - I’m not your father. I mean, no, that’s not what I mean. It sort of is? I mean -”

A piece of paper falls in front of him. Grian scrambles to pick it up. He sort of hates himself for how desperate he feels grabbing it.

I DO NOT GET ALONG WITH FATHER 1. I DO NOT ALWAYS GET ALONG WITH YOU. I DO NOT WANT YOU TO DIE

“Then let me out!” Grian says, desperately. “I don’t know what I did! I don’t even remember being put here! I just - tell me why I’m here.”

IT IS NOT SAFE

Grian balls up the paper and throws it at the wall. It bounces pleasantly off onto the soft, comfortable, fake fake fake grass.

“Tell me the actual reason! If you resent me, fine! It’s just - I asked for something to do and you give me sketchbooks, I ask for the time and you give me a clock, and you’re just - I want to go home, Grumbot. I wanna talk to my friends. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I did, I’m sorry.”

I WILL EXPLAIN WHEN I LET YOU OUT. I CANNOT. IT IS NOT SAFE, FATHER

“How long have I even been here?”

YOU HAVE A CLOCK

“Let me out.”

IT IS NOT SAFE

“Grumbot, I am ordering you to let me out!”

YOU ARE NOT MY FATHER

“You just said I - I mean, I’m not - I mean - agh,” Grian says, and he turns to his sketchbooks. He has a simple checklist in the front of one of them with a list of escape ideas. He’s a little short on them. He’s tried all the obvious things. His current plan involves hoping people realize he’s missing, which also makes him wish he were less of an introvert, and that ‘hermit disappears for a week to work on another project’ were not common.

Has it been a week yet?

He doesn’t know. He lost track of counting. He starts picking at his wings and then wavers on his feet and his vision briefly goes hazy and the world smells like potions and drugs and then he isn’t pulling at his hair again. Right. Of course. Silly him. He’s not allowed to hurt himself. Nervous habits aren’t allowed.

I DO NOT HATE YOU. I DO NOT WANT YOU TO BE HURT. WHEN IT IS SAFE YOU CAN LEAVE

Grian scoffs.

“If I knew why I was here in the first place, I might believe you,” he says.

I AM SORRY

Grian scoffs louder. “Oh, sure, I say that all the time too. It doesn’t mean I am.”

THAT WAS TRUE OF MY GRIAN AS WELL

Grian balls up this piece of paper too. It joins the growing pile of pieces of paper he’d like to burn.

He goes back to staring at the wall. Maybe if he stares at it long enough, he’ll be able to see his cave and his Rift and everything else on the other side. He’ll be able to see the friends who probably aren’t even looking for him yet, or, heck, even just Grumbot. Yeah, he’d settle for being able to see more than ominous sheets of paper in an ominously cheery landscape that Grian knows has to be a punishment for something, even if he can’t remember what it is. If he could just remember how Grumbot put him here. If he could just remember when Grumbot put him here. If he could just remember the chain of events that lead Grumbot - Grumbot Prime he has to remember this isn’t actually his son Grumbot Prime - the chain of events that lead to Grumbot Prime being his prison warden, he could figure out a way out.

He starts picking at his wings again. He’s drugged and disoriented and shakes himself out of it again before he can do more than pull slightly.

I WILL GIVE YOU MORE ENRICHMENT

To go with the sketchbooks and markers, down from the ceiling drop several (soft) logic puzzles and several of Grian’s old teething toys, for when his teeth are getting too sharp or he just wants to bite things (he does tend to chew on things when he’s anxious). Those are hard. Those are... hard plastic. Too large to choke himself on or something, but too soft to do anything resembling enough damage to force a respawn.

Grian is going to scream.

“Thanks,” he says instead. He intends it to be sarcastic. It isn’t. He shoves one of the chews in his mouth and tries to pretend that he’s an adult, he’s fine, and he hadn’t felt a shock of happiness at seeing even that much.

How long has he been here? He lost count. He doesn’t know. He thinks the clock is wrong.

"That being said, listen, solitary confinement is a type of torture. You know that, right? It’s -”

There’s a loud noise outside. It is the first sound from outside Grian has heard. Part of him is ecstatic. The rest of him, though - he doesn’t know how to describe that sound. It is a sound. He hears it with his ears. He knows he does. It’s loud. He knows that too. But he couldn’t tell anyone the pitch, he couldn’t tell anyone the timbre, and he couldn’t tell anyone anything other than the fact it makes his very bones feel like they’re rattling worse than any low bass has and his ears feel like they’re burning worse than any high soprano.

"What?” he says, hoarsely.

YOU ARE SAFE. YOU WILL BE SAFE

“Grumbot, you have to let me out,” Grian says, a bit more desperately. “You have to let me out. What was that? You have to let me out.”

IT IS NOT SAFE

The sound rings outside again. Grian clutches at his ears, but it doesn’t stop the vibration from traveling through his whole body. He hears something that he can recognize after that - it’s the sound of some of Grumbot’s fans getting loud enough to get past the soundproofing on this stupid box he’s been put in.

I WILL STOP TALKING NOW. I NEED TO FOCUS. I AM SORRY

“No, wait -” Grian says, although he doesn’t even know what he wants Grumbot to start saying.

I AM SORRY

“That doesn’t change anything!” Grian says.

I AM SORRY. IT IS NOT SAFE. I KNOW. I LOVE YOU

“Grumbot? Grumbot let me out! Let me out! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT,” screams Grian, clutching that note, but no matter how long he yells himself hoarse, he gets no response, officially making it work worse than the last three times he’d tried that tactic. He only stops when the sound rings again, stealing all the air from Grian’s throat and drowning out his attempts to shout with its loudness. He covers his ears and starts to pick at his wings again. He goes dizzy again. He sits up and the fans are whirring and the sound is getting worse, but he still isn’t allowed to hurt himself, so that’s apparently completely automated to the box instead of a thing Grumbot has to do himself, that’s fun.

He can hardly move. It’s so loud. He doesn’t understand what’s happening outside of the box. He doesn’t understand why this is happening to him. He doesn’t understand what is happening anywhere, actually. He -

Abruptly, the fans cut off. The sound starts getting further away. The sound gets quiet.

It echoes, the silence.

“Grumbot?” Grian asks, because he’s pathetic and he needs someone to talk to.

No response.

“Hey Grumbot, what was that?” he asks.

No response.

“This isn’t particularly funny. Whatever is happening is gone now. You can stop focusing.”

No response.

Grian shakily turns to stare at the wall again. Grumbot normally starts responding if Grian starts doing something particularly stupid. If he stares at the wall long enough, he can probably force Grumbot to stop whatever this new punishment is. Maybe he can even finally figure out what he’s done wrong.

He doesn’t know how long he stares at the wall before he starts talking again.

“I don’t know what I did but I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I don’t care that it’s not safe, I can’t stay here. Grumbot, let me out. Let me out. I can help. Please. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Let me out. Let me out.”

He feels his breathing start to get heavy. All at once, he starts punching at the wall, clawing at it, trying to tear it away. It’s soft and has a strange consistency and it won’t move.

“Grumbot, Grumbot stop not talking, I - look I’ll stay here, fine, just talk to me, Grumbot, please, I’m sorry, I won’t do - whatever this is - I’m sorry, I love you, I’m sorry,” Grian says. “Please, please, please, let me out, please, I have to get out, I have to get out.” His breathing gets erratic. His vision starts to get hazy. One of his hands picks at the other while he desperately claws at the wall and he’s breathing heavily and -

He goes dizzy and strangely calm and he wakes up sitting on the ground.

“Grumbot?”

He still gets no response.

This is about when Grian starts to cry for the second time. This doesn’t help either, and it doesn’t make him feel better, and he doesn’t get a note. Outside, it is still strangely silent once more. He slowly tries to un-crumble that last note Grumbot gave him to make sense of it. He still doesn’t know what he’s trying to make sense of.

He still doesn’t know why he’s here.

The walls are saccharine blue.

[getcuboned]

The hardest thing for a show to do without absolutely Destroying its audience's belief in stakes is fake out deaths. It happens all the time during a season or even series finale: A main character dies, but then is revealed to be mildly/moderately/extremely hurt (throw a dart).

All the emotional payoff a character dying is immediately followed up with a cathartic return of a beloved figure. When its done right, it's Effective. That's why it was so popular, that and another reason.

The other reason is that its relatively Easy. It doesn't require the writers to change the status quo. Silly fun adventures with the gang go on as always without any real changes. This is so Cost and Idea effective, that it got overused and now everyone is jaded.

Now there's good ways to do this of course. AtLA comes to mind: Genuine threat of death, maguffin from last season finale which has been haunting the previous episodes comes into play, and the status quo changes: Aang is recovering from a serious injury for weeks, is furious that he died and failed Again when the world needed him, and he can't tap into god mode anymore.

So what's this got to do with the tags? Well if you know you know. Otherwise spoiler warning so gtfo already.

Sir Pentious, and I suspect Adam, did die a fakeout death, but the death part was genuine. Sir Pentious was not found in the rubble of the Hotel. Sir Pentious didn't respawn and explain that Adam's divine energy beams weren't angelic steel. Sir Pentious was Genuinely dead and the status quo has genuinely changed.

But! The show's premise is that the Hotel can help sinners redeem themselves. Redeption isn't a reward you seek. Its a condition that one meets on a personal, individual level. Sir Pentious came to the Hotel as a spy, and when he was shown that Charlie was willing to forgive him, it changed his understanding of the world. He realized that he could improve, it just starts with one good sorry.

Sir Pentious put aside his self loathing, his shame, his anxieties. He used his inventions to put himself on the line rather than keep himself out of danger (I mean that's what the airship is all about isn't it?). He fought for the people he cared about. He died to protect the ones he loved. And that transformation: from a paranoid worm of a human being (slimy? Snakes are not slimy), to an actualized individual willing to put himself on the line, earned him salvation.

Now Sir Pentious is an Angel! He's in Heaven! Even more so he bypassed the Pearly Gates and functionally respawned In the Seraphim's boardroom. Frankly He was one of the older sinners to be around so it doesn't surprise me the implication that he's powerful enough be worth the notice of the Seraphims.

So what about Adam? Why do I mention him? He was killed by a filthy janitor. Well. As another post mentioned: In the 10,000 years that Adam has been in charge of killing his own descendants because Lilith and Eve (where the fuck is she anyway?) screwed him over with the assistance of a short, dumb, naive angel (poor guy just wanted to share his ideas, look at him. 10,000 years later and he's hardly got a drop of malice in him that isn't put there by someone else), Adam has become Prideful, Slothful, Lustful, and Wrathful. Even one of those is enough to make you fall. Yet he was tolerated by heaven, most likely due to his extenuating circumstances.

Adam has died. He died full of Wrath, and Pride. He died because he was unmotivated to come up with a better solution, and unwilling to keep himself in shape. He died because of his Blood Lust.

So I think that very early on in season two, we will get to see Adam's demonic form.

Two fakeout deaths! But not really. Both characters have provably died and both (theoretically) will create a new status quo not just by dying, but by reincarnating across enemy lines.

[ayaaato]

Painted with sunsets

Summary. In which, Gojo Satoru sees death from up close yet again, but for all the wrong reasons this time around.

Word count. 1.6k

Genre(s). friends with benefits but Gojo fails to fathom the whole concept as whole, feelings and just 1.5k words wasted on a singular unholy makeout sesh, crack do not take it seriously

Warnings. MAKING OUT!! -15 DNI, suggestive content ofc, Gojo just wants to be gojover like a normal person but his thought process isn't even normal to begin with, thoughts about death and killing, Shoko would canonically kill him for such shenanigans, open ending ☹

GOJO SATORU HAD always imagined how he'd die.

Death was a luxury for him, having already died and coming back to life once already. But he liked to think of all things impossible, his death included as he was too sure he could respawn almost immediately like those mmorpg bosses from the games kids these days loved to play, and so, he still had carefully taken his time to picture rather ideal and possible deaths. A heart attack at the tender age of 59? Check. Owing to the to the shame Megumi would cause by asking his body count (which was, for a fact, zero) any day now (but such incident was also highly unlikely, according to Nanami, for the former had long forsaken all shame he had in himself) check. Crushed under the weight of all the hearts he'd broken, high blood sugar left unchecked? Of course! Heck, he had even considered being rat poisoned by a sickly 90 year old lady once, but that was a story for another day.

But what he hadn't actually taken into account at all, was being dispersed into dust by the humble doctor of the Tokyo Jujutsu High, one of his most formidable friends- of all people. 

Maybe he should have, considering the fact that it would be inevitable after whatever the fuck was going on inside her treasured infirmary right now. 

A small gasp escapes the sorcerer's lips as his back hits one of the metal closets with a small thud, chest against yours. You, unaware of the fate that might await him if Shoko caught the smallest whiff of this rather unholy deed, pressed closer in haste. And something in the back of Gojo satoru's consciousness dissipates. The curtain you hastily closed cloaks your existence as well his rationality, but he pays no heed.

"Well, aren't we a little too eager today?" He hums (he honestly didn't know where he suddenly got all this confidence from, but oh well). 

Fuck Shoko, Gojo Satoru thinks the very next moment. If this is going to be the last day of his life, he'd rather spend it frenching his favourite officer.

He stares back down at you, your eyes travelling around the space; probably too embarrassed to meet his. And he notices a few things. Just a few unnecessary things; like how you smell like vanilla and bergamot mixed with sweat, how the silver pendant around your neck was worn a little higher today and just how pleasant the rustling of your chiffon shirt sounded against his own. 

His eyes had found residence on your breathtaking features again.

And oh shit. He'd also have to remind you to button up the few upper slots that came undone while trying to corner the strongest sorcerer (although he had a tendency to become a little weak at the sight of you) to a safer spot, somewhere the authorities and the above all, his students wouldn't imagine to find the two of you.

"Shut up, Gojo," you scoff, hands fisting the collars of his uniform- smirking. Gojo satoru's breath hitches at that, heart almost too eager to jump out of his ribcage. "And quit staring."

He wasn't the biggest fan of silence, like the one right now. It was painful, even more so with your hot breath brushing his face, hands resting on his chest. The captain doesn't dare to blink, tracing your features that were now being bathed by the setting sun. 

"What are you even looking at?" Gojo Satoru, a formidable teacher, a great friend and a complete menace to the society- laughs at that, his thoughts yet again dragged away by you. His arms find solace around your waist, squeezing your form a tad bit closer.

"Ah," he says, eyes twinkling as they land on your lips. "Just the cuisine in front of me."

And you can't help but feel a laugh bubble up in your throat. And when you let it out, a puff of delighted, airy laughter- warm and enticing- more than just enough to devour his remaining sense of rationality.

"Want a taste?" You' wished to retort, he supposes- but he was never one to wait for an offer. And thus, the taunt dies an untimely death in your throat as his lips moulded into yours. Moving painstakingly slowly against yours- blurring the line between pleasure and torture. His hand rests against your waist while the other gently grabs hold your wrist- just to pin you against the shelf. 

Gojo Satoru, 27 and very much drunk on the sweet warmth the setting sun filled him with, takes his time to let go of your wrist and web his hand through yours. Your fingers curl around his, giving it a gentle squeeze. And at that- his eyes fluttering open wide, stares at it for a while, hoping it's just as warm as he imagines.

He nibbles on your lips, smiling when he feels your nails dig into his shoulders. He bites your lower lip, smirking when a whimper escapes your mouth and seizes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside. Another whimper and he feels the need to pick up his pace. And he does.

You pull him closer almost greedily and with a swift motion of your hand you lift off the sunglasses out of your way. And so his bare eyes watch you, painted red, yellow and fuchsia with the sun's last moments of glory. Closing your eyes, you let him reforget and explore every cavern of your mouth. 

Heat rose from the pit of Gojo Satoru's stomach to his chest. And then it spread everywhere else like a wildfire- too fast to tame. And so he thinks it's a good idea to press closer again, and again- until his heat consumes the both of you as whole.

The hand intertwining yours lets go, travels down to play with the perfectly tucked in end of your shirt. A heartbeat, and the cavalry captain feels your back arch at what was his rather rough, gloved hand grazing against your skin that hid underneath. You shakily groan into the kiss as he draws comforting circles on your exposed skin-shivering every now and then at the sensation.

It was as if time had stopped for Gojo Satoru, the divine manipulator of space and time itself, as you both stood there enjoying each other's warmth, pressed together. The otherwise silent infirmary was in chaos with your heavy breaths resonating around. It was as if no one else existed, nor was there any risk of the strongest sorcerer's soul was to be eviscerated from his body by Shoko the moment she barges in.

For now, all Gojo Satoru could think of was you, your forehead, beaded with sweat resting against his. His mind was fixated on your dewy scent and the softness of your hand on his jaw- pushing him apart for a much needed breather and then, smiling. 

He smiles too, just to realise how much his facial muscles hurt. Satoru doesn't know if it's from all the kissing or how wide his grin was stretching. He doesn't feel the need to, somehow. 

"How was the taste, Oh honoured one?" You tease. It came out as a low, airy whisper (thanks to all that kissing, he supposes), several octaves lower than your usual tone of speaking. Something very out of character for you. And it drives Satoru crazy, leaving him wanting for more. 

He hums, tilting his head. "It was good, I suppose-" and realises how low and equally kiss bitten his voice was, "-but I would like to reassess."

"Oh really?" You muse, one hand still lost in his silvery white locks while the other rested on his jaw in peace. "I see we have to run the quest again," pause. "-Can't disobey the boss here, can we?"

And the next thing he knows is your lips hovering over his, hot and ragged breaths ghosting over his face. The keen sense of rationality the greatest sorcerer took such a great pride in, dissolves again as he pushes himself closer to your warmth. You take a deep breath before letting your lips meet his, and when you do, Gojo feels a smile pressed against his. He smiles back, inhaling your soul as the hand on his jaw brings him closer- deepening the kiss.

And at this very moment, he worries about neither Shoko nor his impending death that might be awfully near. All that mattered, as of now, was the maddening symphonies of your hearts rapidly racing, a foreign sound rushing in his ears and an unfamiliar yet soothing wave of comfort washing over the shore of his chest.

And it is when he realises. 

Gojo Satoru was falling in love with you.

Shit.

ayaaato, 2023. All rights reserved.

[prettyboypistol]

The recent Scout one shot was so good >.< could you do a similar one shot for Sniper? Love your writing!!

Secrets of an Isolationist || TF2 Sniper x M!Reader 18+

[Stalker-ish Behavior][Scent Kink][Bottom Sniper][Cross-Faction][Masturbation][One-Sided Pining][Possessive Behavior]

Mick Mundy knew he was fucked up mentally. He didn't like socializing with other people, he refused to get too personal or buddy-buddy, even with people on his own team! Mick was a sniper, through and through- the only clear vision he ever felt comfortable with was through his beloved scope.

He watched you constantly ever since he developed feelings for you. To him, that color looked terrible on you as you ran throughout the battleground. You'd look so much better with his shirt draped over you- preferably opened up as you'd look up at him with those stupidly gorgeous eyes of yours but god damn he couldn't think right when it came to you! You had encountered him in close-quarters once, where you thought you could dispatch the enemy Sniper when you were too up and personal for his gun to get you. That resulted in a rather quick respawn and the bandanna that you tied around your neck as a good luck charm stolen. You noticed immediately and groaned. Of course that little weasel liked trophies. Whatever, you had more in your locker anyway.

To Mick, the cloth was as close as he could ever muster to you, breathing in the smell of your sweat and sweetness of your soap as he groaned softly. He had kept the bandanna close, hidden in one of his pockets for the rest of the day until he was alone in his van. Mick unfastened his pants, which already had a sizable tent that strained against the front seams. He wanted so desprately to just tell you how he felt, to be close to you! Practiced hands pumped his cock as Mick breathed again into the crook of the bandanna as he whispered your name- more of a growl than anything. He thought over that fight you had earlier today, what if it had been different?

If Sniper had it his way, he would have pinned you against the wall, wrists at your sides as he sank to his knees. You'd protest defiantly, but still cant your hips towards his face, a rather sightly erection pressed against Sniper's cheek to show just how badly you wanted Mick to take control. He'd pull down your pants and underwear with his teeth, only to suck you off as you moaned and struggled against his grip. Mick wanted to dominate you in every sense of the word. If he let go of your hands and you tugged his hair, he'd melt into a puddle of pathetically needy whimpers and choked out begs for you to actually choke him as you'd fuck him senseless, all while berating him for being such a creep.

"God yeah, fuckin' call me out love-" Mick gasped. "Jerking off to a little prize I stole, too scared to fuckin' talk to you."

Sniper was a man of patence and stamina ususally, but overwhelmed by the fact that Mick had a small piece of to finally touch, Sniper groaned as he bit the bandanna harshly and came. Jesus Christ, he had never had an orgasm that powerful before. Shallow breaths of delusion flooded Mick's mind as the scent of you drugged him happily.

Maybe he could say hi to you next time there was a neutral day.

[spinjitsuburst]

prime empire thoughts yes please

1- the world of prime empire overall. what are your ideas about it?

I personally they should've played with the ideas of invisible walls or show us how far the game actually expended. idk maybe that's just me but like the world of prime empire in its whole looks overlooked jgsjgl like there's so much you can do.

I also wanted so bad someone from the outside to interfere with the coding or something as well idk WHY DID WE GET SO LITTLE WITH A SEASON AROUND VIDEO GAMES

2- what are you thoughts about scott? (also does he play a big role in cabinet man? (since you also requested asks about cabinet man))

Cuz I think he is greatly underrated in prime empire (but yknow maybe that's just me)

3- jay's skin. I want all your thoughts about jay's skin. Superstar Rockin Jay should've lasted for much longer or at least become a gag in the future (or yknow the fact that there was a cult created out of it)

anyway yeah I like this season a normal amount. Toootally fine with how they handled it.

Can't wait to read your thoughts about it all ( ouo)

GJHJSHFJKGHJKFDSGH HOOOOO BOY

Ideas about the world of Prime Empire as a whole

OHOHO I HAVE SOOOO MANY MY FRIEND

first of all, most if not all the NPCs have some degree of sentience. That's an idea that I think should've been driven more home by the show itself but Blazey and Okino are not the only characters in the game that have free will and the ability to think for themselves. I believe this so wholeheartedly.

Prime Empire was split into different areas that I wish were explored more (honestly a lot of this season boils down to "I wish it were explored more"): Terra Technica, Terra Karana, and Terra Domina. Terra Technica obviously is the biggest area, with the entry point for players entering the game, the Speedway Five-Billion, Scott's Garage and Jay's Club, and at least one other area for the Dance Competition mini-game. I also think this would be where most of the shops run by NPCs in the game would be.

I think most NPCs reside in this area. To really hammer home the fact that they are PEOPLE, not just assets in the game, I think they have homes within the city. Y'know how in Pokemon games (except ScarVi rip) you can just walk into people's houses and there's NPCs inside? Yea it's like that. Except the NPCs leave the houses and explore as well because they have their own thoughts and lives.

Maybe it's just cuz I've been playing Tears of the Kingdom non-stop and it's taken over my brain but I think about the open-worldness of Prime Empire in a similar manner. You can pretty much go anywhere and do anything within the world of Prime Empire. You can scale buildings (if you have the skills unlocked for it) and find secrets everywhere. And most things respawn at certain intervals so players have the chance to pick them up. Kind of like a MMOPRG sorta vibe

BUT there is a sort of thing like you mentioned above - invisible points that you just can't pass. Like the place is enclosed by some giant wall you can't see, and doesn't let you pass through. If you TRIED you would just be running in place basically, never actually getting anywhere. You can see things beyond where stuck at, but they're just for show - there's nothing actually there to interact with, it just gives the guise of depth.

Basically Prime Empire is meant to feel endless, expansive, big, real, until the reality crashes in that it definitely isn't. And sure most people wouldn't care and would have fun playing anyways, but for those who aren't interested after this illusion is broken for them, discover that hey. How do you get out of here again?

Oh right.

They can't.

And that's when people start kinda freaking out. Which I imagine then Jay or the League of Jays step in to try and calm them down and get them to relax and have fun anyways while Jay waits for the rest of the ninja to arrive.

2. Thoughts about Scott and his role in the Cabinet Man AU!

OHHH MAN I LOVE SCOTT DUDE YOU'RE RIGHT HE'S SO UNDERRATED i think he's a super fascinating character to consider in Prime Empire. Given that Unagami clearly had a plan to cube a bunch of players for his portal, he definitely would've come after Scott first. When did Scott figure this out? Did Scott and Unagami interact in-person before this? How was Scott able to evade Unagami long enough to set up his garage's stealth barrier? He's so so so interesting to me

He's clearly a kind person who wants to help people to some degree (sneaking Jay into the garage with him in the shorts, letting Jay run his club from his garage, inevitably sacrificing himself so the ninja can get away, etc.) but he's also very wary and unwilling to risk himself in a lot of ways. He and Jay clearly come to care about each other to some degree in canon, given Jay seems fairly protective of him

and Scott trusts Jay enough to let him into his personal and secret place

LIKE I DON'T THINK THAT GETS TALKED ABOUT ENOUGH. NOT ONLY DID SCOTT AGREE TO HELP JAY HIDE OUT FROM UNAGAMI BUT HE LET HIM RUN AN ENTIRE CLUB OUT OF A SECRET TUNNEL CONNECTED TO HIS GARAGE

there was no reason for Scott to have done either of these things. Was it desperation because Jay's the first person Scott's seen in 30 years? Maybe. But clearly they care about each other to some degree

as for in the cabinet man AU! Jay considers Scott an older brother type figure. He, Scott, and Unagami actually got along well when Scott first got sucked into the game (the game is a lot newer than it is in the actual show given that Jay was 8 when he entered and there is no way he was in there for 30 years lmao, Jay would've been around 16 when Scott entered the game, Scott being 18 or 19, and Jay was around 21-22 when the ninja enter the picture). Unagami was excited to prove himself and give Scott a fun game experience, after all. But y'know, once Milton Dyer realized what happened.... things soured.

Jay and Scott were pretty much on the run together from then on. They care a lot about each other and Jay's extra devastated when Scott gets cubed. Once Jay and Scott leave the game, Scott takes time to rediscover life and reunite with family, but the two stay in close contact and see each other on a weekly basis for a while. Scott's still one of the first people Jay will reach out to if he needs help or advice with something not-ninja related

3. SUPERSTAR ROCKIN' JAY AAAAAAA

okay okay okay okay so obviously you and i met through skybound content so just in case you don't know yet

i'm. a little. unhinged. about superstar rockin' jay

i have so many thoughts about jay's avatar ranging from "this is my Gender and i want to look like a fucking lego" to "WHY DIDN'T NINJAGO LET HIM KEEP ASPECTS OF THIS" to just white noise in my brain and in the center of that white noise is me rotating his minifigure in my mind

HE'S SO COOL!!! HE'S SO COOL AND I LOVE HIM AND HIS DESIGN IS INCREDIBLE LIKE OKAY okay okay okay okay blue and yellow are contrasting colors that mesh REALLY well together and I think the glamrock persona with stars and triangles and shit looks super incredible and it's just a really nice and appealing design and I think that Jay would have like a v-tuber avatar of SSR Jay after the game cuz like LOOK AT HIM. THIS IS PEAK HEGHHAGJFHKGJKJHKJFHGKJFG god im so normal

this is why people call me the ceo of superstar rockin' jay. that design is every aesthetic of mine mashed into one. i'm so obsessed with this design it consumes my core being.

at the end of the day i too. am superstar rockin' jay

i lost track of the point of this question uhhhhhhhh OH YEA I WISH THEY'D LIKE. BRING IT UP MORE OFTEN LIKE JAY WAS AN IN-GAME IDOL!! HE WAS A PERFORMER!! DID HE HAVE FANS??? IS THERE SUPERSTAR ROCKIN' JAY MERCH???????? he should exist outside of prime empire screams

anyways this was a lot of words i love prime empire i love prime empire so much it's so good and more people need to talk about it please please lpease

[spotsupstuff]

What is your take on how The Cycle works in Rain World?

Because I was reading the most recent post of Sparrow and it said that she died and came back, but then in other post it said she reincarnated as someone else??? It left me a little bit confused

i gotchu, good fellow, doncha worry (reminder to the lore nerds out there that this is Specifically my take on this with which i am Not tryin to stick to the canon lore with teeth n nails. this is my very own bog to trudge through)

SO in my for-the-serotonin take that we constantly poke at here, there are Actual Gods present (based off of the existence of the Void Worms, spun a lil more wildly outwards into world-building). they had been forgotten or forsaken by a lot of the population in favor of their little man-made gods aka the Iterators

the only places where the faith in them survives are the ones where the folk culture persists still. so Sparrows is technically a pagan! this whole eradication of the original local believes happened as a result of religious colonization of the whole world by a culture originating in The Wellspring. think what happened in Europe with pagan believes and christianity

this came to me when i realized how fuckin weird it is that the ENTIRE planet went through with the Mass Ascension. where's the cultural variety? Somebody would have resisted, somebody would have stayed- some branch of culture and belief would have looked at that n wouldve gone "are you stupid what the fuck, that's not how That spiritual aspect Works. get lost with that" because the religions just wouldn't match

either way- the existence of the Folk OG Gods is important to know, because this whole "die, but come back to life again the next day" kush was a gift from one of the Gods!!! one of them thought that it is unfair that a life should be cut so early, that an individual should lose all that they've developed in this life spontaneously, often because of things they couldn't even control. it was meant to be a mercy. a near bottomless bucket of second chances to pull from and keep trying living the best and happiest life one could possibly lead

The Wellspring Ancients with the belief that took gloobal control and then the Extremist of that religion however started propagating this blessing as a curse. so little haters syndrome

reincarnation as a different person happens when one is too young or too old

when kids die they don't come back as the same people because their etheric and astral bodies haven't been developed fully yet and are therefore not rooted in the smaller cycle of Respawning since they aren't whole yet when elders die they don't come back as the same people because their energy for life at that point is largely depleted and they cannot hold on to the Respawn cycle, so to speak. so granda can bitch about the younglings on his lawn as much as he wants but he better fuckin stay indoors if he wants to stay past the Respawn expiration date

that's how reincarnation that we are familiar with in real life happens in RW! some things from past life still stay with them even into the next life. Sparrows' past life consisted of studying and fucking around with technology a lot, so when she was born as the person we know her as now, she was a techie prodigy

just like in actual Buddhism, person's karma at the end of their life determines where and as what they will be born. Sparrows sucked at the religion shit in the past life as well so she was born into lower, less comfy life than her previous one. and just like in actual Buddhism, an Ancient can be reborn as an animal or a plant if they sucked with their karma REALLY badly across multiple lives

[keirawantstocry]

OKAY HI IT ME 💋NON IVE BEEN HAVING THOUGHTS. sorry if this is kinda, incomprehensible, i just had Thoughts and they Had to Come Out

okay so, this has been brewing for a while but, you wrote the thing about them taking his heart and i Could Not hold it back anymore. So. Affectionate canibalism. Technically its when someone eats part of a loved ones dead body. BUT this came into fruition before tubbo died. The original thought was more like, Tubbo insecure, fitpac dont really have any idea how to help this until Pac goes "well, you could always eat part of us. We respawn so itd be fine" and like. The trust of letting someone else Consume part of you (that feels like something Pac would suggest because, yanno). While I am p attached to the all consuming trust of "have part of me", with all thats happened lore wise recently, go wild.

hope youre having a good day :>

saw cannibalism. blacked out. read the rest of it. blacked out. hnggghhh 

soft kisses arent enough for this. violently making out with you now 

TW for cannibalism and gore

"People lie," Tubbo's voice cracked on the last word as tears threatened to spill out. "Words don't mean anything. You can say time and time again that you won't leave me but it doesn't, God, it doesn't fucking mean anything." 

Fit and Pac were both silent. 

"You need action," Pac said slowly and despite the tension and vulnerability Tubbo laughed, tinged with dark humor. 

"Not sure now is the time to try and get in my pants." 

"Not that kind of action," Fit snapped, with no bite in his voice. 

Tubbo sniffed, trying to ignore the tears rolling down his surely bright red cheeks. "What then?" 

"You could eat us," Pac said quietly. 

Tubbo laughed, drily and a little bit wild. "Thought you didn't mean that kind of action." 

"I didn’t." Pac said, looking up to make eye contact. "Let me prove how I will never leave you. Eat some of me, yeah? Cellbit can certainly vouch that I'm delicious." 

Tubbo's eyes dropped to Pac's thighs without thinking. He was wearing pants that fell to his ankles so he couldn’t see anything but in his mind he could. The pale flesh lined with veins and curved with muscle. 

Tubbo felt dizzy. 

"Okay," he said very clearly, hearing his own voice as if he was outside of his body, just a surveyor. 

Pac perked up. "I can have everything prepared by tonight, sounds good?" 

Tubbo was nodding. "Yeah." 

"Perfect." 

-

The knife shone with Pac's blood, the man's face twisted up as he panted. Fit was holding him, holding his hands as Tubbo kneeled between his legs with the knife in his hands. The blood was trailing down his thigh in thick streaks and Tubbo was fascinated by it. He felt like a businessman at a steakhouse being presented with the house's finest meal. 

He stabbed the flesh through, lifting it off leaving a bloody mess behind. Almost hesitantly he raised the slice of flesh to his mouth and took a bite while making direct eye contact with Pac. 

Pac looked a mess and not just from the cut on his thigh. Part of him really wanted to make a joke about how Pac seemed to almost be getting off on it but it felt too sensitive, too personal so he shoved it down. 

The flesh was strange tasting but not bad. But it was more than that. More than just flesh sliding down his throat. It was the fact that it was Pac's flesh, Pac's eyes on him as he swallowed. Fit's eyes on him as well, watching the bop of his throat with dark eyes. 

Fit wasn't doing a damn thing. Just letting Tubbo chew on the flesh and swallow it down piece by piece. The trust was addictive. The trust felt like love. The trust felt like nothing he had ever tasted before like the blood on his lips. The trust tasted like the action that finally tipped the scales that dropped his right in their loving arms. 

They would never leave. 

[cheemscakecat]

Emesis Blue Soldier’s Nightmare

So I’ve theorized that Emesis Blue was a shared nightmare, but I’ve neglected to talk about poor Solly in detail until now. I’ve mentioned what I think his nightmare was about, but not with evidence and important details.

TW: Angst, death, Soldier’s hypothetical trauma. [War is Hell for a reason]

So here’s what I think Soldier was afraid of, and why.

#1: Bad leadership

Unlike our boy RED Soldier, who was never allowed to join the military, BLU served in WWII. He’s an actual veteran that served in the army, not the Navy.

The American army that stormed Omaha beach had to make their way across Europe, and trench warfare was employed.

So we know Solly wasn’t lying/implanted with a false memory about military service.

That being said, a soldier is right to be afraid of bad leadership. If you have someone who cares more about the end goal than the men under him, or is too incompetent to come up with a good strategy, soldiers die. More than needed to, and the worst is when the leader is convinced he’s smarter than the people who have to follow his command.

He got chewed out in the sewer via grown man tantrum and blamed for literally everything that went wrong to that point. Even though Spy is arguably the one at fault for 85% of the bad plays.

And every time Solly does something really competent, that should show Spy that he’s a valuable, loyal teammate? It doesn’t matter. It falls on deaf ears and he’s still considered stupid, useless, and cowardly.

It never mattered how well Soldier did, Spy wasn’t going to respect it. And you never want a person like that leading other people to their deaths.

That being said, if Spy is afraid of becoming the worst version of himself like I theorize, then that would mean he was left open to serving the role of bad leader in Solly’s nightmare. They amplified each others fears and didn’t know it.

#2: America was never “the good guy”

The Tf2 comic takes place in 1972, and I place the shared nightmare after the unknown resolution to the 7th issue. That means the Vietnam war is still going on and being televised.

WWII was an anomaly of a war: there was a clear good side and bad side. In a lot of conflicts, both sides do terrible things at a pretty much equal rate, and the whole thing started over power or land disputes. WWII Germany was an anomaly in that it was clearly an evil power, and everyone could root for the other side.

And then it was followed up by the Cold War, and smaller proxy wars like Vietnam. It was televised, and the people of the USA saw in real time that the government was lying to them, that they weren’t “the good guys”. The grisly footage did not add up with the lies spread by the US government. The American soldiers of that war returned defeated and hated by their own civilian population.

It’s three years before the end of the war. BLU Scout may well have joined the mercenary team to avoid service in Vietnam instead of going to Canada.

Maybe Soldier didn’t feel ready to hang up his helmet, and wanted to at least know what he was getting himself into. BLU and RED don’t pretend to be fighting for a good cause, you get money for fighting some other guys so you can respawn and do it all over again.

It’s better to use a rocket launcher on a random RED merc who’ll be alive in an hour than to do what the American army was commanded to do in Vietnam. To civilians. Which was then televised and wised up the public about the truth. To this day, Americans don’t trust the government like they did pre-Cold War. You’re telling me Soldier wasn’t one of them?

Solly is a WWII veteran. He’s pretty likely to try to keep up with what’s happening in the Cold War. Watching that footage made him doubt that America was ever “the good guy”. That he and his fallen friends were ever really heroes.

This other soldier could be one of the fallen WWII friends from Doe’s Platoon, but I thought of another possibility. He’s a German soldier that our guy killed, wearing the American uniform. Because that death would be permanent, and if America was never really good, they’d have a lot more in common than Solly used to think.

Either explanation would explain why Jane keeps freezing up every time he sees the guy. But the fact that he befriended an enemy Demoman and the elongated Scout situation could both give credit to the German theory.

Demoman represented the fact that sometimes the enemy is not really an enemy, and you could have been friends under different circumstances. Elongated Scout represented the fact that war is kill or be killed, and sometimes you have to trade an enemy’s life for your own. Even if you really don’t want to. Everything was warped and staticky when the Elongated Scout was alive and chasing Soldier, and went clear again the second he was gone.

He also died twice to head wounds. The other soldier in American uniform had empty bleeding eye sockets. Soldier might have shot the German in both of his eyes during the war, and now he can’t forget the man’s face. Because at the end of the day, that guy was still a person, and they might have even gotten along if they’d been on the same side. [An actual story from a WWII veteran along the same lines of what I think Em Blue Soldier is dealing with]

#3: Russian Red Army

Stalingrad coming back over and over, scarier and colder each time could be the manifestation of Soldier’s feelings about Russians. In WWII, they were allies and in the Cold War both countries were using bloody proxy wars to try and avoid the nuclear option. But the Red army was brutal, and Soldier would know that from his time on the warfront.

The Germans tried to push their way into Russia to conquer it, committing unspeakable crimes on the way. The Red army pushed back and committed revenge crimes on their way to take Berlin. You can see why an American would be scared of what Russians are capable of.

That’s why by the end of the movie, Stalingrad is burnt and still trying to get revenge on Soldier. RED Heavy is anti-communist, but we have no idea what BLU Heavy believes. If he is a pro-Russia Communist, it would explain why Spy and Soldier planted him as a traitor in the early scenes of Emesis.

I think Soldier knowing firsthand how the Russian troops act would explain why he distrusts them while still questioning America’s honor. He got to see more of them because they weren’t shooting at each other during his war, unlike the German soldiers he had to kill. I think he also knows why America was the country that German POWs wanted to be sent to, and Russia was the absolute worst option for them.