#and. well. wils. the dark star. do I need to explain that one really? dark magic and power blah blah blah

[camellcat]

don't you know they're cosmically intertwined and would find each other in every life?

bonus messy design sheet I used to figure them out

[discotreque]

Disco 4.04: All Is Possible

Y’all…

I like to sprinkle the occasional personal detail into these posts for, I don’t know, emotional context? When I’m recording my feelings about an episode, it makes sense to mention if I was distracted that morning, or in a rush, or cranky or whatever; it’s going to influence my reaction whether I want it to or not, so it feels relevant. But this is also my fun, chill Star Trek sideblog, and the emotional context for this one is… neither fun nor chill.

On the Ready Room aftershow this week, Wil Wheaton got really personal about how much he related to Tilly’s story, w/r/t his own abusive family. And let’s just say he wasn’t the only one. This episode dropped the same week I sent an email that I’ve been wanting to send since 2015. I am processing some shit right now.

But! Leaving aside the almost unbearably painful personal resonances, Disco continues its mission of otherwise giving me… kind of almost literally everything I want?

I knew this one was going to be special because it opened with a captain’s log—with a stardate, no less! (Stardate 865661.2, for the record—818 years after the final season of TNG.)

It’s sad but also relieving that Book’s grief wasn’t 100% resolved by the mind-meld. Wibbly-wobbly sci-fi solutions to psychological problems can be interesting in the abstract, I guess, but they’re not very satisfying on a narrative level or an emotional/relatable level.

Did anyone else think Admiral Vance’s oddly thoroughly-discussed absence was typical TV stuff at first, like Oded Fehr just wasn’t available? (And do we want to talk about how President Rillak needed a ruse to get him out of the way and her mind went straight to “fake mpreg”?)

The scientists have been up all night sweating over this massive Dark Matter Anomaly? I’ve been up all night sweating because of MDMA before too! *rimshot*

This episode went full Oprah with the “you get therapy, and you get therapy, and you get therapy, and later maybe even the therapist will get therapy!” and I’ll tap the sign if I have to: subtlety is as dead in December 2021 as irony was in December 2001. We are earnest and we are honest and we are vulnerable and we go! to! therapy!

Two things this show still refuses to give me: the name of Book’s ship, and what the hell Dr. Kovich’s actual job is. We’ve seen him explaining Georgiou’s weird space-time disorder, and now he’s… consulting on Starfleet Academy recruitment? I get that the real answer is “they like having David Cronenberg around,” and I do too—I just want to know who this guy is.

The second I saw Lieutenant Callum piloting the shuttle, I literally said “dead guy!” out loud. I hate being right all the time. [Narrator: “She wasn’t right all the time.”]

I noticed a spark between Saru and President T’Rina last season—not unlike Admiral Adama and President Roslin in Battlestar Galactica, except for all the war crimes—and I was thrilled to see them actually follow up on that this week!

Though not as thrilled as Michael, who clearly ships it:

All the conversations between Book and Culber were beautiful; the bit about the healing ritual particularly got to me. (As in, I was weeping.) This show keeps punching me in the feels, and I don’t know… I guess I don’t entirely mind, if it’s actually going to be well-written like this.

It was great when Adira tried to do the Dax thing—play the “I’m actually hundreds of years old, so listen to my wisdom” card—and even better when it didn’t work like, at all. Playing that card takes skill, kid! (Gorev’s “Thanks, Admiral 🙄” was especially great.) I sort of feel bad, because so many of my favourite Adira moments involve them getting yelled at, but they’re always so graceful about accepting criticism and I admire the hell out of them for it. (And tbh, I could use a little more of that grace myself.)

The bit where everyone needs to pull Adira out of the ice was literally every quicksand scene from every cartoon that ever featured quicksand. As a certified child of the 80’s, it cracked me up.

Discovery v1.0 would never have given poor Cmdr. Fickett a name, let alone a family, let alone a whole follow-up conversation in a later episode assuring the audience his family will get amends. What timeline are we in right now?

It’s sad in a sweet way that Tilly’s leaving Discovery (the ship), but becoming an instructor makes so much sense for her character, and I’m not sure how much less we’re going to end up seeing Mary Wiseman on Discovery (the show) compared to previous seasons, anyway. If the Academy is literally at Starfleet HQ, we could end up seeing her as often as we see Vance!

And then Michael and Tilly had a conversation, sitting on Tilly’s bed in what used to be their shared quarters, and it basically kicked my heart through a wall. I cried when I watched it, I cried when I rewatched it, I’m crying typing this right now. I don’t know what else to say.

What an excellent and classic Star Trek episode, though: in one plot, a shuttle full of characters with interpersonal friction crashes and they have to overcome their differences to survive; in the other, the political fate of billions is determined by a Starfleet captain giving a passionate speech at just the right (technically completely unprofessional) moment. If that’s not Star Trek, I literally don’t know what is.

So let’s try something different: I hope next week’s episode does emotionally destroy me! I hope it reflects my life with unflinching accuracy! I hope I relate to all the characters so much that it makes my heart ache!

…I don’t know, maybe reverse psychology works on TV shows? It’s all I got.

[witchsheartbooks]

If you aren’t too busy, could you possibly do some headcannons for Claire + the boys with their s/o during a blackout due to a thunderstorm??

Personally I find peace in the rain but I did pepper some variety in there for you, Dear anon so please enjoy.

Claire:

As a loud clap of thunder resonated against the roof of the house you shot up in bed with a start.

You hated thunder storms they always made you anxious. The noises, the flashing lights outside, how rickety everything felt in the house when a storm would get severe enough.

You just did not vibe with any of it at all.

Claire wasn’t exactly fond of storms either, but she didn’t mind them too much. Her only real gripe was the fact that she wouldn’t be able to sit outside and enjoy the flower fields she liked to visit or the garden the two of you shared.

Stirring sleepily in bed her voice groggily carried through the room, “What’s wrong y/n. Did the storm wake you?”

Hearing her voice just made you melt you could never quite describe why Claire made you so relaxed but whatever the reason, you appreciated it none the less.

You glanced at the bedside clock, but the numbers didn’t show. It wasn’t even lit up- fuck a blackout? Really? Right now when you felt your most vulnerable?

Your mind began racing again, thoughts only slowing as Claire drowsily booped your nose with her finger. “Y/N look over here.”

Weird how she was the one redirecting you for once.

You gently took her hand as she was withdrawing it, fingers clasping tightly.

“I’ll hum for you ok, y/n? Then we can go back to sleep.”

Reluctantly, you laid back down, resting your head against her chest so the only sounds you could focus on were her heartbeat and the soft chime of her voice.

You were asleep again in mere moments.

Ashe:

He always found the rain soothing, on nights he could sleep anyway.

Sometimes it quelled the nightmares which often clutched at his heart.

As thunder rumbled, he felt you stir next to him, your arms gripping his midsection in a vice.

“Awake now then, Y/N?” You groan at his statement. Atleast Ashe was warm. Why wasn’t he asleep?

You slowly sit up, rubbing your left eye. You then notice the room is pitch black and the sound of him setting a book aside resounds through the empty room.

That made more sense, seems he couldn’t sleep and chose to read. In the dark…?

“Is the power out?”

He hummed a reply, “Yes, and I was just getting to the interesting part of this citation. Though, perhaps your company will be more interesting, hm?”

The two of you then proceed to talk through the rest of the evening. That book had interested him but any time he had with you was more precious.

Wilardo:

You had been helping Wilardo with the flowers all day and had fallen asleep quite early.

Normally you consider yourself a night owl. You rarely sleep at normal hours but because of the work you did today, you had ended up passing out on a loveseat in the living room.

Wilardo couldn’t bring himself to move you since most of the time you were a light sleeper anyway. He had put a soft blanket on you though.

A thunderclap resounded, shaking the roof of the house which then awoke you with a start.

You didn’t recognize your surroundings at first but before you had a chance to get up a low gravely baritone grasped your attention.

“Yea, that one was pretty fuckin’ loud huh?”

Rising from his spot on the couch, he turned to look over to you. Seems instead of choosing the bed, he laid in wait on the couch closest to you.

Had he intended to sleep there if you hadn’t woken up? That seemed possible.

Wilardo was never really picky about where he slept so long as it was close to you.

He stood from the couch, stretching and with an exhale he crossed the distance between the two of you.

“Power went out bout ten minutes ago. Least the garden will be well watered. We can check any wind or flood damage tomorrow.”

Wilardo had brushed some stray strands of hair from your face, gently stroking backwards to pat your head before withdrawing his hand.

“We can stay up as long as ya need to, y/n. Can even pick the room ya want since the window in this one is so damn large.”

You shake your head, rising to meet him with your blanket draped on your shoulders. Sauntering to the windowsill you sit along it among the cushions.

Sure, the rain was scattering hard across the window, but it was something you enjoyed watching.

The sound of the thunder itself was your only real aggravation when it came to storms.

Wil had followed you, sitting behind you and pulling you back with a tug so you could lay back against him.

Both of you had napped here like this on sunny days, though tonight you both exchanged small stories as you watched the rain paint the window.

Sirius:

You were watching the rain from bed, unable to sleep.

Sirius was asleep next to you, arms curled around your midsection. It’s how he always slept but denied it anytime it was brought up in conversation.

A loud thunder clap resounded outside, with this the lavender went rigid against you.

The two of you may be an item now but he still was rather reluctant to be completely open about his emotions with you.

Thankfully, you were the observant type so this didn’t frustrate you as much as it would for most.

Exhaling, his arms had tightened into a vice, you could tell he was hoping you weren’t awake yet.

Sirius loathed displaying weakness in front of others, especially those he greatly admired.

You counted yourself lucky as being one of very few on that list.

Mocking a yawn, you stretched your back against his chest, a hand reaching back to comb through his hair.

You even went so far as to fake the bleariness of sleep in your voice. “What’s wrong, Sirius?”

He melted into you, rather reluctantly but so long as you didn’t bring it up then it was likely he wouldn’t chastise you for it.

“This bloody storm is making sleep nigh impossible for me.” He grumbled tiredly with a huff.

You let him vent about it, you know storms bothered him; especially if they were loud.

“Mmm, then we could talk until it passes?” You suggested gently. Your goal was to redirect his attention onto something else.

He scoffs, “That isn’t the worst idea. Though it seems you’ll be the one leading the discussion this time, Love. I find myself unable to still my train of thought.”

“Oh? Don’t I lead in most situations anyway?” You couldn’t help but tease him slightly, he had left himself open for such a statement with his phrasing.

You could feel his glare but he only sighed, “Yes well it isn’t as if you’ve complained about it in the past now have you? And you’re rather lucky, I let no one else do anything of the sort.”

He paused, burrowing his face into your shoulder upon realizing what he had said with a loud “Ugh, how is it that you bring out this sort of honesty in me so easily?!”

To this you laugh, “It’s not so bad. Atleast it stays between us. So, I wouldn’t stress so much about it.”

“I suppose you aren’t wrong…it’s simply embarrassing that it happens to begin with.” With this statement, silence carried between the both of you for a few minutes.

That was until thunder clapped again and he tensed against you back.

You roll to face him and bring his face to your chest, “Relax. You’re wound up tighter than a bed spring.”

Sirius grumbled quietly until you began to hum softly.

It took a few minutes but gradually he drifted into a light sleep in your arms.

Noel:

He was always up in the evenings, rain or clear nights it didn’t matter.

You had dozed off next to him, he was already in a down mood from there being no stars that night.

Lightening lit up the sky outside the window and the thunder clapped so hard it shook the house.

Noel’s chest tightened and instinctively he gripped your hand.

Loud sounds bothered him more than he could explain.

He had reacted this way if you ever dropped a pan too. You wondered if it was related.

Stirring from both the sound and pressure of his hand, you recognize the signs and sit up quickly.

You rub his shoulder and hum softly.

He leans into your chest, curling like a cat as you sooth him through his panic attack.

You’d done this before, but in the pitch black like this where only the occasional lightening lit the room.

It felt like you were closer to him than you’ve ever been.

That thought alone brought you peace as you focused on soothing Noel back to his senses.

Gradually he found them, slipping into the depths of sleep against you so very shortly after. ~Mod Sirius

[amintyworld]

Goodbye - (SBI Inc.) World War II AU

A/N: Hey guys! So... this is actually part of a bunch of fics I was making for some of my mutuals, and at first, I wanted to post them together, but I soon realized with my own creativity and motivation, not to mention constant burnout, it was more just wishful thinking.

This fic is a gift for my friend and mutual, Cam (@bones-sprouts)! They're an awesome person for me to rant to about AUs or other fic ideas, so if you can check out their awesome blog and give a follow if you'd like. I hope you enjoy it because I'm actually really proud of how this turned out! <3 - Minty

Edit: Forgot Taglist.

Summary: Phil works in the coal factories, his wife Kristen with the sewing machines. No matter how hard they work, there never seems to be enough money. What will happen when a World War rises on the horizon?

TW: Bomb mention, Implied death mention, injury (No blood or gore tho). (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

-------------------------

Phil remembered when it was all just rumors. After all, one couldn’t help but get bored within the tedious factory jobs. Hauling coal from one place to another, scooping it into the fireplaces - minds always began to drift. Gossip was whispered with bated breath under watchful eyes. Phil had heard it all - some true, most of them, however... complete fibs. He guessed that’s why he didn’t believe it at first when there were talks of war. There were always talks of war, but after the World War a while back, Phil thought it was stupid anyone would dare try to repeat it. The leaders were smarter than that, he thought to himself.

Besides, he had other things to worry about. Wilbur needed a new winter coat for the season. He’d been going through another growth spurt over the summer and had, unfortunately, outgrew his one from last year. They’d been saving to buy a new one, and his old one was given to his younger brother, Tommy. Funnily enough, the coat was extremely big and baggy on the ten-year-old, so much so he kept tripping and falling to the floor. Kristen kept pinning it up, though it never seemed to help much. He remembered one night telling Wilbur with a chuckle he was getting too tall and Tommy was getting too small. Tommy had grumbled angrily in a way only small children could do, puffing his chest out and proclaiming himself a ‘big man’. Kristen had smiled and laughed throughout it all, and when Tommy yawned she picked him up and carried him off to bed.

Money was always a tight issue, but Phil had the wisdom never to bring it up in front of his sons. Instead, he talked about stories of adventure-seeking pirates or brave warriors in hushed tones at night when the roof began to leak and they huddled together in thin blankets during the winter. Phil’s heart always swelled when Tommy’s eyes would light up in curiosity at the stories, at another world full of hope and things that Phil could only wish to provide them. One day, he promised himself, one day he would give them everything they deserved. Everything they’d wished for upon stars or whispered to themselves at night when they thought no one was listening. One day.

Phil remembered once when Wilbur was not much older than Tommy, he’d asked him if he could work with him in the factories. They had barely been able to afford the school fee that year, and Wilbur had started school a month behind his classmates because of it. When Phil had quickly tried to dismiss the idea Wilbur’s mouth had pressed in a thin line.

‘I can do it, Dad. Let me do it. I want to help.’

Phil’s hand had absentmindedly moved to trace around the scar in his calloused palm. When he first started, the manager put him near the machines, with the task to flip the lever and run them when the ribbon was on target. He flipped the switch before realizing it wasn’t on target, and when he moved the ribbon - the machine was merciless. He’d thought about Wil doing that, the machines, hauling pounds of coal up a hill, and he realized that he’d rather die working in the factories than accept the help. The money wouldn’t be worth it, the money would never be worth his life. Never in a million years.

No matter what, he’d always protect them. That was never a question on Phil’s mind.

When the orders came there was never any doubt about what he needed to do. There was never any hesitation. They needed to be safe. They needed to survive. When he told Kristen he held back tears, but his wife knew him better than anyone, cutting him off with a small loving embrace. Emotion welled up in Phil’s throat as he returned the hug, and the two stood in their cramped dining room like that for a while, the opened letter left scattered on the stained wooden table. Phil’s gaze drifted toward the couch where the two boys lay sprawled on top of each other, covered by a single blanket, asleep. For a moment, just a moment, Phil wanted to keep them like that forever - blissfully in that perfect moment of peace. But, Phil couldn’t do anything. A war was coming.

“We’ll get through this together.” Kristen had promised him. Phil hoped she was right.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The train howled in the distance. Millions of families rushed to and fro on the platform, volunteers and teachers hoisted the smaller children into the train. Conductors shouted, and the entire train platform was bathed in a large gust of steam. In the middle of all the chaos stood Phil, Kristen, and their two children.

“Okay boys, let’s go through this one more time,” Phil said, getting down more on their level, and trying his best to maintain a smile. “When you get on the train, stay in your seats. Make sure not to lose your bags, and try not to cause any trouble. Listen to the volunteers, yeah?” Wilbur nodded, and Phil noticed Tommy looking around in curiosity at all those passing by. He snapped his fingers, turning the ten-year-old’s attention back on him. “Tommy?”

“Uh-huh?”

“What did I just say?”

“Uhm… don’t pull any pranks?”

“Yes, don’t cause any trouble, Tommy. This is serious. There’s a lot of people, I don’t want you to get lost okay?”

“Okay.”

Phil looked over at his oldest, clutching the suitcase in his hands tightly, a tag around his neck matching his brothers’. He’d been quiet since Phil had told them both the situation a day ago, and rushed off to help Phil get everything they needed from the list - they barely afforded getting the essentials. Money saved up for Wilbur’s new coat went to bars of soap, stockings, slippers, and handkerchiefs. Phil had given Wilbur his own, saying he’d be fine without one for the winter and they’d be able to afford another in no time. “Look out for him, alright?” While the two shared a brief moment together, Kristen was leaning down toward the child, spotting a bit of dirt on his cheek she was determined to get rid of. Tommy protested and squirmed from her grip as she smiled, holding back as laugh and keeping him still. Wilbur looked over at the two, smiling fondly.

“I will, Dad. I promise.”

Phil couldn’t help but be overcome with pride for his eldest, a small smile on his face. He grew up way too fast - where was that small boy who was always propped up on his shoulders and sang beautiful songs deep into the night, eyes shining with happiness? There were still traces of that same glimmer in Wilbur’s eyes, signs that those dreams and that hope were still alive, and to Phil that was all that mattered. He grew and became so responsible, so capable of anything and everything. At that moment, seeing him, he remembered that strong feeling of pride. Phil had every confidence in him, no matter what the future might hold.

He reached into his coat pocket for the letter, before taking in his eldest for what would be the last time for a while. His hand lightly brushed through that curly brown hair that always fell over his eyes, moving down to cup his cheek and look into those dark eyes that were so much like his mother’s - deep pools of infinite. “I hope you know how much I love you, Wilbur.”

“I do… I mean,” Wilbur stumbled, looking down at the ground. “I..I know, Dad.”

Phil nodded, pressing a small kiss to his son’s forehead. “Good.” He handed out the folded piece of paper with a name scribbled on it - Technoblade. “You’ll be staying with an old friend of mine, he knows me well and I trust him. Be on your best behavior.”

“Right,” Wilbur confirmed, looking over the name for a moment before sliding the piece of paper in his bag. “Does he... know we’re coming?”

“Well, uhm… no…?”

“No?”

“Just give him the letter, it’ll explain everything. He owes me.”

Tommy rushed over, seemingly running from Kristen who simply giggled. “Papa!” Phil’s smile widened at the exchange.

“Come here you little squirt!” Phil’s heart lit up as he scooped up the smaller child in his arms, Tommy laughing with a playful shriek as he did so. “What’s wrong, mate?”

“Mama keeps scrubbing my face, it hurts!” Tommy accused, to which Kristen rolled her eyes with a smile.

“You’ve got dirt all over your face, honey-”

The train howled once more, sending all of them to silence. One of the conductors at the train car around ten or so feet from them shouted: “All aboard! All aboard who’s coming aboard!” Phil looked between the two of them.

“Let’s get you two settled, yeah?” They passed through the crowd toward the conductor. At this point many of the parents were already gone or standing a far distance from the track itself, seeing their children off. He slowly lowered Tommy off his hip and into the step. “I’ve got two kids here for the train, they’ve got their cards and items.” Phil gently moved Wilbur in front of him as he spoke. The man, in a bit of a hurry, snatched Tommy’s tag, almost making the child lose his balance as he glanced at it. Phil heaved Tommy’s shoulder bag, packed with things, into the steps with him. “He’s good. You had another?”

“Yes, my oldest, Wilbur. Please make sure, if you can find them a seat together.” The conductor looked Wilbur over before checking his tag as well.

“Will do, but I don’t make any promises.” He nodded at the tag. “He’s a good chap too. Let’s go, we’ve got a schedule.”

Tommy hugged his father around the neck. “Love you Papa. Love you Mama.”

“Love you, Toms.” Phil smiled, as Kristen leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, making the smaller child giggle. Wilbur was already picking up his younger brother’s things and sliding the bag over his shoulder.

“Bye!” Tommy waved as he followed behind the conductor.

“Bye.” Wilbur waved behind him. “I love you.”

And… just like that, they were gone. Phil held Kristen’s hands as they watched their two sons leave in a cloud of steam, chugging away toward the countryside. Going someplace safe. Kristen began to tear up and Phil held her close in comfort. Now, it was a waiting game of fate. A waiting game for the foretold bomb. A waiting game to die.

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General Writing Taglist (LMK if you want to be added/removed):

@bones-sprouts

@foolishcaptains

@benzel

[queenpersephonesgarden]

together through the dark (dawn is still a long way off)

Dream SMP, Rated G, 3.4k, chapter 1 of ??

Summary: Fundy's family is messed up and painfully complicated as it is, with betrayal and heartbreak and death separating them on too many sides of too many wars to count. He should be grateful the attempt to revive his father failed, that Wilbur isn't here to make things worse.

But he isn't. And that pitiful heart might just be their undoing.

Or: Phil tried and failed twice to bring Wilbur back himself. Fundy succeeded without even wanting to try.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Accidental Resurrection, therapy arc let's go, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, it's gonna take a bit for Phil and Tommy to get involved in this ngl, if the CCs ever have a problem with this let me know and it'll be gone, bro do you ever start writing a fic only for canon to start stealing your ideas, Canon-typical swearing, Brief description of injury, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit are Not Biological Siblings, but that doesn't mean Found Family doesn't exist, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF)

Can be read on AO3 (link will be in the notes)

The moon and the first of the stars had begun to peek over the horizon by the time they’d finally admitted defeat.

The mismatched crowd that had gathered for the spectacle of an attempted resurrection had begun the long trek down the Prime Path back to the Greater SMP, chatter finally respectfully subdued where before it had been badly contained manic chaos throughout the entire afternoon. Everyone seemed to have noticed the somber mood that had engulfed Philza, and had reined themselves in appropriately.

Fundy had lagged further and further behind, jittery with some unexplainable emotion.

It had failed.

The resurrection had been a waste of time all along, so-

He should be happy, right?

He was. He was glad Wilbur wasn’t coming back. He was glad to be spared from his father’s tumultuous presence for another day.

Hell, he was relieved.

… right?

But – But walking back, watching Ghostbur smile and murmur something comforting to the silly little sheep trailing beside him, seeing Philza’s melancholic smile, feeling the weight of Tommy’s pointed silence – it’s all suffocating.

If he follows for one more step, he’s going to end up saying or doing something he’ll regret.

No one notices when he stops tagging along – which is just typical, a nasty little part of his brain thinks – no one at all.

No one except for Eret, who darts a glance over their shoulder and almost doubles back, expression plainly worried.

Fundy quickly shook his head and shrugged, reluctant to disrupt the dejected parade and draw attention to himself.

Eret, Prime bless them, seems to understand without a word. They smile, nod, and carry on after the others.

Their door will be open later for him, he knew. If he came back soon enough, he’d even have someone available to rant to if need be.

Just the knowledge of that is a huge relief to Fundy. Eret always seems to get him when he’s in these moods, and even when they don’t, they’re always at least willing to listen.

Which is more than could be said for the rest of Fundy’s family.

And that wonderful thought is an excellent segue way into an immediate downward spiral. Fundy shakes himself hard to rid himself of the impulse to follow that down the rabbit hole. He predictably fails miserably.

Focus, dammit.

Except what else is there to focus on? The botched attempt to bring his crazy dad back to life?

Oh, hey, that’s not good for his mental health either. Great.

Fundy spins right around and starts stomping back up the Path without a single care how immature it might seem or who might see it, headed straight back where they’d come from.

He walks steadily across the glass carefully immortalizing the greatest disaster that had befallen the SMP so far, making sure not to look down for longer than a few seconds. He makes it back to the bizarre little revival shrine in record time without a host of noisy spectators slowing him down, just in time to avoid the slight drizzle the cloudy sky had been threatening the entire latter half of the afternoon.

He steps very carefully onto the blue and yellow brickwork, eyes trailing over the uncomfortably familiar little offerings placed all over like the world’s worst interior design project, before he reaches the middle and has to bite down hard on his cheek to prevent the litany of swear words wanting to escape his mouth.

Philza hung the sword on the wall, before he left.

Just- just put it up there, like it’s no big deal, like it’s a fucking prop, like it isn’t the sword he used to stab his son, Fundy’s father.

Nope. Nope, nope, Fundy isn’t okay with this.

He grabs the handle and pulls it down, and that’s as far as his planning goes. He’s left standing there like a fool holding his father’s murder weapon, heavily debating the pros and cons of either putting it down on the floor so it at least doesn’t look like a reward, or giving up entirely on composure and screaming and throwing it down into the ugly scar in the earth outside. Let it rot in the bedrock with the rest of his father’s legacy where Fundy will never have to look at it again.

But before he can decide which is the option less likely to leave him crying his eyes out to Eret later tonight, a gentle voice echoes behind him. “What are you doing, Fundy?”

Fundy straightens involuntarily upon recognizing that voice, and turns automatically. “Wil- er, Ghostbur?” He almost moves to hide the hideous thing behind his back, but Ghostbur is already floating there staring and that really would be the end of his dignity, so he just lets it hang awkwardly from one hand. “Why are you here? Did you follow me?”

Never mind the tiny stupid feeling in his chest, fluttering in excitement at being noticed.

Ghostbur hummed curiously, carefully shaking water droplets from the rain off of his steaming hands. “Hmm? Oh, no. I mean, I noticed you were gone and all, but I didn’t know you’d be here. I just came back myself, that’s all.”

Hope squashed. Fundy nodded with a hum of his own, face carefully neutral.

“So what are you doing?” Ghostbur repeated, and suddenly having an audience just makes Fundy feel very, very stupid.

His ears flattened against his skull as he stuttered a reply, “W-well, you know, I just thought, well I mean it seemed, it was just, I. Uh.”

Ghostbur tilted his head innocently. Fundy wanted to sink into the bricks under his feet.

Fundy holds out his free hand and gestured emphatically. “What are you doing here?”

Master of changing the subject, he is.

Luckily, with Ghostbur, it doesn’t really matter how dumb the change of subject is, he just rolls right along with it. “Oh, well, Phil and Tommy both went back through the Nether Portal to head home, so I didn’t really know who to follow. They were both a bit sad, so I gave them some blue, but Phil still looked upset so I- I thought maybe I’d come back here one more time, just to see if I could remember anything else that might help.”

Fundy didn’t even bother trying to disguise the bitterness in his voice when he snorted. “Well, that was a nice thought, but I doubt any memories you have of this room could make Phil less upset.”

Ghostbur smiled emptily, pulling a bit of blue out of one pocket to cup in both hands, and immediately Fundy feels awful. Being sassy to Ghostbur never feels satisfying or rebellious, just cruel.

Grimacing, Fundy glared down at his own bit of blue, too large and shaped like the world’s ugliest sword, tamping down on equally ugly feelings in his chest. “But you can do whatever you want, I won’t stop you. I’m just, glad you’re not planning to go through with an unannounced midnight resurrection to surprise us all in the morning with, or something.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Fundy blinked and looked back up. “Huh?”

Ghostbur shrugged and smiled nervously. “Oh, you know. Things change, given time. Places, people… decisions… you know? People change their minds all the time! Especially when it’s a really important or dangerous decision! And it usually works out just fine!”

It took a second for his meaning to get through. When it finally did, Fundy suddenly felt rather cold

“So, wait. You’re saying you… don’t want to be revived anymore?”

Ghostbur worried his tiny bit of blue between his fingers, shoulders slowly inching up towards his ears. “N- well- I don’t- I don’t think so? No, I don’t think so, Fundy. I’m sorry.”

Sorry? Really?

“Why would you need to be sorry?” Fundy asked, voice a bit too loud even in his own ears.

Ghostbur grew even more tense, his hands kneading the blue even faster as he ducked his head. “I just- well, I know Phil was disappointed, even when he didn’t say anything. He gets this look on his face when he- Anyway, Tommy was, was saying some things about Wilbur, and- that place I fell into was just awf- And, and I just- I just thought that-”

The ghost’s stammering became more and more incomprehensible, slowly fading out in that way it usually did when Ghostbur was starting to forget something.

Watching his expression become quietly distressed was painful in more ways than one, so Fundy cut him off. “It’s okay Ghostbur, you don’t gotta explain yourself if it hurts.”

If anything, his attempt at consolation only made Ghostbur more upset, dammit. “But that’s just it, Fundy! If, if it hurts for me, it must hurt so much more for everyone else!” He cradled his head in his hands like it hurt.

“Everyone was so excited today, everyone was working together, even after you and Phil had that falling out-”

Fundy flinched. He wouldn’t exactly describe being banished at sword point from Philza’s Arctic base without even a chance to try and explain himself as a simple ‘falling out’-

“-you still both came and no one was arguing and, and Eret was going to apologize and finally talk things over with Wilbur, and it was perfect but-”

Ghostbur’s face was wretched as his hands dropped, the picture of abject misery. “But it didn’t work, and that place was so empty, and I- I just don’t think I can do it, Fundy. I don’t want to go back there. I’m so so sorry.”

Fundy swallowed hard.

“That’s fine, Ghostbur,” and fuck, why was his throat so tight, why were his eyes stinging, “Nobody’s gonna force you if you don’t want to.”

The little ghost looks so pathetically grateful in that moment that Fundy has to turn away, has to look anywhere else lest something mortifying comes out of his mouth.

But his brain is a dirty traitor, so his eyes land back on the shitty sword, and all he can do is try to process.

Should he be angry to hear that?

Should he be relieved to hear that?

Fundy isn’t sure. He never really knows how he should feel, when Ghostbur is around.

On one hand, that’s his father, and a good day with his father back when he was alive was a day where talking to him – or arguing with him, more often than not – didn’t make Fundy angry enough that he couldn’t think straight for an hour.

On the other hand, Ghostbur can’t remember many of those days, good or bad. From what he’s said in the past, his memories of Fundy are all the scattered bright spots of their lives together; the day Fundy was born, the day they chose his name, their days in L’Manburg, little snippets here and there of jokes and teasing that had still been lighthearted, before a war and a presidency and a betrayal made all of their casual jabs carry jagged edges they hadn’t before.

Ghostbur is kind, and cheerful, and always wonderfully, terribly happy whenever Fundy is around to visit and talk to. A stark contrast to Fundy’s memories of the last few months of his father’s life, where the man was sullen, snappish, giddy and half-crazed one moment, menacingly calm and collected the next.

It’s an incredibly disquieting thing to think about, so Fundy doesn’t very often. Now, of course, he can’t help it; standing here, in this macabre, borderline cartoonish little shrine filled with all of the things that slowly drove the man into the grave, it’s impossible not to think of all the things that make the ghost of him so much better. And so much worse.

Because Ghostbur isn’t his father, and that is equally both a blessing and a curse.

Every conversation he has with Ghostbur just leaves Fundy feeling frustrated and a bit guilty, the two emotions spinning a waltz right in the middle of his guts until they’re twisted into knots.

Ghostbur’s entire existence is frustrating, but even in Fundy’s worst moods, he’s never wished ill on him.

In the end, all of these feelings of betrayal and heartbreak and anger are all Fundy’s alone to remember.

And that’s totally fine.

Yep.

Ghostbur was never actually involved with any of Fundy’s worst memories, so it wasn’t his job to try and fix anything between them.

It’s just on Fundy to deal with it.

And he can definitely do that.

Definitely.

Just, maybe some other time or somewhere else, far away from the stone that had once been stained with his father’s blood, with his literal murder weapon not in his hands.

Staring down at it right now is not doing Fundy’s emotional state any favors, thanks.

He breathes out unsteadily, holding the damn thing out horizontally with both hands, rather tempted to do- something unpleasant to it.

“Fundy?” Ghostbur asks from too close and very far away, voice echoing with confusion and worry. “Are you okay?”

But Fundy isn’t really listening.

He doesn’t want to accuse Ghostbur of anything when he doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. Arguing with Phil accomplishes diddly-fucking-squat.

But maybe-

He’s not really sure what he intends to do in the moment his grip tightens – the loud, stupid traitor part of his brain that always insists he yells louder during an argument to get his point across (as if anyone would actually listen) is clamoring for him to snap it over his knee like a twig, never mind how impossible that is with literal diamond – but it doesn’t really matter.

He is abruptly reminded why it is a rather bad idea to grab a sword by the blade end without reinforced gloves.

“Ah! Hell!”

Fundy curses vehemently under his breath, relaxing his grip quickly before he can do something even more stupid.

And then-

“Oh.”

He says it so softly.

Not scared, or sad, or panicked.

Ghostbur approaches and sees blood welling in between Fundy’s fingers, and he blinks like he just took a wrong step in a dark tunnel, and finally realized which way home was.

Blood drips down Fundy’s fingers and on to the sword, carving a path down where his father was run through, and drip-drops onto the ground still stained blue with evidence of a failed resurrection.

“Oh,” Ghostbur repeats quietly, and blinks out of existence.

“Wha-?!” Fundy jolts in surprise, which, ow, fuck, nearly slices his damn fingers off. He flings his empty hand further away from the diamond blade’s razor edge-

-just in time for Ghostbur to flicker back into view.

“Jesus Chr- dude! Hasn’t Tommy ever told you not to go invisible without warning like that?!” Fundy has to remind himself not to yell, because the ghost of his father he might be, he doesn’t actually want to start a fight right now.

Ghostbur doesn’t start stammering apologies immediately, doesn’t rush forward with a little bit of blue bandage to help Fundy feel better, doesn’t mumble in worry about forgetting something again because someone got hurt.

Maybe any of those should have been the first clue.

But Fundy doesn’t notice those clues right away, grimacing down at his bloody hand and looking for somewhere to put the damn sword that isn’t on the rack like some terrible trophy or on top of a stack of dynamite (why would they choose dynamite of all things to symbolize his father his traitor brain demands, why did Philza allow that, he should know better than anyone that guitars and books and warm sweaters would have done the trick of luring Wilbur in, that they had always made dad happiest back when he was younger and happier and not clawing at the walls of a tunnel and threatening to blow up the home he’d founded and built for himself and his friends and Fundy-).

“What?”

Fundy half spins, still looking for a suitable place to put the stupid fucking sword, looks up-

- sees a tall silhouette and his vision blurs for just a second; he blinks hard, shakes his head-

- does a double-take and freezes.

At the first glance, he was exactly the same as he was before; bright yellow sweater stained blue in a gruesome approximation of the fatal wound that took his last life over plain black pants, hair hidden by a beanie older than Fundy has even been alive, pale like snow with circles dark enough to be bruises underneath his eyes.

He was the same as he always is, except not anymore, because Fundy can actually see him. And he’s standing.

Not see through him. Not at a dull, washed out copy of the man that made a rather poor show of raising him. Not floating just slightly above the ground like he should be.

That’s not Ghostbur at all.

Fundy sees Wilbur, eyes wide and face entirely slack with shock, with skin flushed just slightly with color rather than lifelessly white.

He’s standing right there where Ghostbur used to be, not transparent, not desaturated,  not- not dead.

Is he dead? He should be. Why is he not-?

For one silent moment the world stands frozen on the edge of a knife, the two locked in a disbelieving staring contest.

Fundy blinks first. The man that should be a ghost is still not see-through, and full of more color than he should be.

The world has utterly ceased to make any sense.

Fundy’s fingers went numb.

Metal clanged unnoticed as that awful, ugly sword bounced off a brewing stand and hit the ground, splashing unremarkably into a puddle of mud.

Dead silence is left in its wake, broken only by the patter of rain that is suddenly so very far away.

Wilbur swayed a little on his feet. His face slowly contorted, warping Ghostbur’s final expression of gentle surprise into quiet, pained horror. His hands rose to press shaking fingers against his middle, where the appalling reminder of his violent end had always freely dribbled blue down his front like paint.

Fundy gaped back in response, ears ringing, heart pounding too fast and painful in his ribs, black spots eating at the corners of his vision- what is- why-

A slow, startled inhale became a choked, ragged gasp.

The specter that might have been a man stumbled.

Hurt and betrayal, anger and hatred; it all tumbled right out of Fundy’s spinning head.

One unsteady step forward-

- Wilbur’s knees buckled-

-and Fundy ran.

-.-.-

Miles and miles away in a place too dark too small too quiet, the walls glittered sickly in the light of magma sluggishly dripping over the only exit; a sticky, uncomfortable heat flooded the room only to be sucked away by the volcanic glass encasing it.

The room was utterly barren except for two things; a chest, and the resident seated upon it.

A lone young man sat hunched forward in the not-light of the lava-reflecting obsidian and stared blankly at the dark, dark walls around him.

Too still.

Too stiff.

Too quiet, quiet, quiet for far, far too long; all day, every day, ever since his favorite visitor had escaped and he’d been left all alone with nothing to play with again.

If someone were to look in at him, they might not even think he was breathing. Perhaps they would question, then, what the point was of such an elaborate cell for nothing more than a corpse.

But then-

-cold diamond slice through skin, warm blood drip-drip down, death become life again-

a movement, finally.

The young man’s blond head jerked upright, like a shock, like it was the first time in a long time that he had blinked awake.

His hungry green gaze swept his cell and fixed on the death trap that should have been a door, beyond even that, past weeping obsidian walls and wide empty fields, past the broad stretch of a long, long road to a country now lay in ruin, to a room of broken walls painted with the hope and suffering of the fathers and sons of one particular family.

For the first time in weeks, the young man’s eyes came to life with something beyond sheer boredom.

For the first time in an age, the god hidden under his skin did the same.

Dream and the shadow that shared his name stared wordlessly at the strange family reunion for one long heartbeat, then two.

Neither blinked.

They just tilted their head, curiosity personified; the closest either would come to admitting some semblance of surprise.

“Huh.”

[whichstoodonrockyshores]

Chapter Six

(Well it’s a little gay ig)

Garrett was running as fast as he could back to the house, knowing that he had to tell everyone about this. He didn’t even look back, he just ran as quick as he possibly could, clutching the records for this man in his hand. He knew they were connected, they just had to be-

He ran face-first into the door, managing to slam it open. He heard someone fall out of their chair, and he ran into the kitchen. He saw Marius, on the floor, looking up at Garrett with an upset expression.

“What?!”

“Where is everyone?! We need to have a meetin’. Now.” Garrett said, a very serious and happy expression on his face.

“I don’t know where they are! Chandler and Adam are still out there, doin’ God knows what! Stop slammin’ doors!” Marius yelled, finally getting up and storming out of the room. He didn’t slam the door to his room, however.

Garrett sighed, understanding a little why Marius was upset. He had just stormed in, not thinking. But he was very excited about this. He was still holding the paper in his hands, not wanting to lose it. What would he do then, make everyone drive to New York City for no reason? I mean… he probably would do that. But that didn’t matter. He just had to wait for the other two to get home.

Chandler walked inside soon after, and Garrett looked excited, but a little worried as he didn’t see Adam with him.

“Where’s Adam? Is he alright?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. He’s just comin’ a little later.” Chandler said happily, seeing Garrett happily standing with a paper in hand. Wait, was that…

“Is that the…” Chandler started, looking just as excited. He’d seen the paper too.

“Yeah! It is! I just wanted to show the other two, and then we can get on our way to Harlem!”

“Wait, really?! Oh, I thought you’d be against it.” Chandler said, his smile suddenly doubling in size as he started to flap his hands. Garrett just smiled and nodded.

“I don’t care how far it is. If there’s even a chance our sibling is up there, I’m willin’ to go.” Garrett said, watching his brother excitedly flap his hands. Chandler eventually sat down, his excitement dying down a little.

“Where’s Mari, then?”

“I… I pissed him off a little. When Adam gets home, can you go get him?”

“Yeah, of course-“

The door opened, and Adam finally walked inside. He saw his two brothers sitting at the table, and they suddenly were all smiles again.

“We’ll speak of the Devil. I’ll go get Mari, then.” Chandler said, walking into his younger brother's room. Adam was a little confused.

“What’s goin’ on?” Adam asked, sitting down at the chair opposite of Garrett.

“Turns out, Chand was right. There was somethin’ in that Church, and I’m gonna show it to y’all. That’s all.”

“There was? I never would’ve guessed, to be honest.” Adam said, leaning against his hand. Marius and Chandler eventually came out of the room, Marius looking pretty frustrated. When he saw Adam, he gave the man a strange look. One that said, ‘I know.’. But Adam just ignored this, as everyone sat down again.

“This is what I wanted to show y’all,” Garrett said, slamming the paper onto the table. Marius and Adam both read it over, as their eyes widened together. They both looked up at their older brothers, their faces shocked, as no one in the room said a word.

“We gotta go to New York.” Marius finally muttered.

“We gotta go, right now,” Adam said, suddenly standing up. “I’m gonna go pack my bags!”

He cried, running off to his room. Chandler nodded, and also went to his room. Marius was the next to leave, his initial shock finally wearing off. Garrett was the last one, still just sitting at the table.

He was crying. Finally, there was a chance that his sibling could be alive. After all of these years, even the slightest chance got him excited. He wiped his tears away, and smiled to himself, finally putting the papers away as he left the kitchen, to pack his bags. The very next morning, the four men were on their way to New York. Garrett was driving, all of them knowing he was the best driver there. Well, he was the best for someone who’d only started driving a year ago.

“Do ya really think that Southern bastards like us will fit in that big ol’ fancy city?” Chandler asked, smiling to himself.

“Yeah, I think we will. From what I’ve heard about Harlem, it sounds like the part of the city we’d fit in best.” Garrett said, looking over at him for a moment, before looking back at the road.

Marius tapped his hand on the side of the window, he hated long car rides. He’d rather just ride a horse, even if it would take a lot longer. Marius loved horses.

“Hey, Chandler?” Adam asked.

“Mhm? Yeah, bro?”

“Can you tell Marius to stop fuckin’ tappin’ me!” Adam said, a little angry, as he looked at Marius.

“Shut up! I ain’t tappin’ you!” Marius yelled back, and they both started yelling at each other soon after. This continued for a little before Garrett looked back at the two of them.

“IF Y’ALL DON’T SHUT THE HELL UP I’M TURNIN’ THIS DAMN THING AROUND!” he yelled, sufficiently making his brothers shut up.

“Sorry Garrett,” Adam said, looking down.

“It’s fine. Just don’t do that shit again.”

“Alright. And I had an actual question for ya, Chandler.”

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Are we gonna pick up Wil-“

“No.” Chandler and Garrett said at the same time. Adam didn’t say anything more, and the car was silent after that. No one had anything left to say, as they were all very excited for what would be happening once they arrived. They started a few minor conversations, and Marius would sometimes shoot Adam odd looks, but otherwise, it was very quiet. Finally, it was getting pretty late. The sun had already set, and Garrett wasn’t comfortable driving in the dark anymore before he pulled over on the side of the road.

“Alright, y’all. Go to the bathroom or whatever, we’re stopping here for the night.” Garrett said, crawling into the back of the car and immediately falling asleep. The other three got out, and Chandler fell asleep just as quickly on the grass. So now, it was just Adam and Marius, staring up at the stars, on the grassy side of the road.

Marius knew this would probably be the only time he could ask about what was written in the journal. He looked over at his brother, who looked pretty happy.

“Hey, Adam?” Marius asked, making Adam turn his head to look.

“Yeah?”

Marius suddenly realized he’d have to explain that he read his brother’s journal. He felt very guilty all of a sudden and was just overtaken by it. He put his head down.

“Nevermind. I forgot.” Marius said, rolling over to look away.

“Oh. Well, goodnight.” Adam said, suddenly curious about what he would’ve said. Did he… no. He couldn’t know, right? He probably forgot because it wasn’t very important. Yeah… yeah. Adam took a deep breath and slowly drifted off to sleep. Marius stayed up longer, both feeling back for not asking and feeling guilty for knowing at all. He couldn’t seem to get to sleep, his anxiety making him unable. He was tired the next day, as they all got back on the road to New York.

It took a few more days, but soon enough they were knocking on the door of the address on the paper, hearing a lot of yelling from the people inside.

“Are we sure this is the-“ Garrett said before he was interrupted by the door opening.

[inkribbon796]

In their Place Ch. 3

Chapter 3: A Shattered Reflection

Summary: Illinois and Eric rejoin with the group as Damien’s condition persists.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

While the fight with Dark had been going on, Illinois was busy taking the hero’s bait and circling around Eric.

“Well, well, what’s a cute thing like you doing in a dangerous place like this?” Illinois smiled at Eric. “Ooohhh, dulcito,[1] this suit looks amazing on your calves. Tell me who made it, so I can commission them to make more.”

“Logic and Bing,” Eric was blushing under his mask.

“Well! I know where my next paycheck is disappearing off to,” Illinois decided, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a pair of Jims racing over with a camera. “Well let’s put on a little show for the cameras, hero.”

Eric startled and looked at the camera. Illinois didn’t even give him time to be embarrassed because he dove right for him and began a fight that was half wrestling, half throwing magic that if it hit Eric was mostly a light show; and all a show for the camera.

Both Illinois and Eric were having fun playing it up for the cameras when Illinois’s heat physically lifted off his head and Illinois caught the little bronze star inside it glowing a violent dark purple and kept trying to tug the hat in a direction. The direction that Dark had flown off to fight the heroes.

“Let’s lose the paparazzi, dulcito,” Illinois told Eric. “My old man needs some help.”

“Ills, wait,” Eric told him before Illinois produced a couple smoke bombs and dropped them around them. He scooped Eric up into his arms and ran off with him. Both of them disappeared into the smoke.

The heroes had finally relocated outside the ruined building, taking Damien and the chair with them.

Marvin was pacing and trying to come up with a new idea. Silver was floating nearby with a new mask, courtesy of Marvin. Jackie standing to him, talking. Patton was sitting on the ground next to Damien. And the mayor had an ice pack to his chest and a cigarette in his mouth.

Damien had a lot to think through, he was apparently in the future, he’d been running around with a demon. His father would have killed him if he was still alive.

He needed to finish his cigarette, go home and take a nap.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out,” Patton tried to reassure Damien helpfully. The mayor rolled his eyes. He’d been told the hero next to him was named “Captain Morality” and along with not being an absolute asshole had given him the ice pack. So Damien was pretty sure that out of the three he was currently Damien’s favorite.

Then Marvin stopped and looked at two people running over. “Shite! Illinois’s comin’ in hot.”[2]

“Where is he? What did you fuckers do?”

“Ills.”

The arguing was giving Damien a migraine, he couldn’t deal with more new people. He was still sore from the apparently failed exorcism. Or maybe it was successful, he’d never even been allowed to see one to tell.

“Slow yer[3] roll casanova,” Marvin ordered.

Rolling his eyes, curiosity got the better of him, and he looked back to see someone standing next to Marc. He was the only one not masked and he looked younger than Marc. Damien looked at the dark hair, the light tan complexion, the way his eyes narrowed and brows furrowed when he was clearly angry and thought: “Is he Celine’s?”

With that one thought Damien decided he was done with this charade and wanted to go home. He wanted to go home and lock himself in his basement, and get so completely lost in whiskey He couldn’t remember who he was anymore.

Damien could still feel the phantom hand of his father on his shoulder. The man had only been dead a couple of years — at least to Damien, now it was a couple decades at least — but his threats and orders still weighed on his soul.

It seems he’d been mentally gone so long that he’d missed another of Celine’s children, and probably countless more.

Damien shakily got up from his chair and started to turn away, clutching his cigarette like a lifeline. The ice pack left on the chair.

I don’t want you to even look at that child, his father had ordered. It’s bad enough you’ll be related, but I can’t have another null in the family. You—

“아빠”[4] The young man was coming to stand in front of Damien.

The mayor instinctively flinched away, looking back and expecting Marc to come over and pull his son away.

“I’m not,” Damien started, more confused. “I can’t—”

“아빠[4] are you okay?” The young man asked, clearly worried.

“I,” Damien faltered, his mind trying to push down the hope. “Marc!”

Illinois startled and tracked Dark’s eyes to Silver, glaring at him in absolute rage, “Ex-fucking-cuse you?”

Mark held up his hands, “I’ve told him ten times now, I’m not whichever Mark he’s thinking of.”

“We’ll deal with this later,” Illinois decided, then turned to Dark. “Alright, what happened?”

As Illinois had been talking, Damien was having a minor meltdown. Illinois saw the look on his face and his expression and tone softened considerably.

“It’s me,” the young man tried to urge. “Illinois?”

When he saw a continued look of confusion, Illinois realized that Dark wasn’t hurt, he was having an episode. “Oh no, we need to get you home.”

“Yer not goin’ anywhere,”[5] Marvin ordered.

“Fuck off, Copperfield,” Illinois pulled out a piece of chalk and drew open a portal. Dark flinched away from it.

“Come on, dad,” Illinois held out his hand, halfway through the portal.

Almost as if the Manor was sensing a problem it extended out and pulled Illinois, Damien, and the heroes into the Manor and the portal winked closed.

“Ughhh, you’re gonna be pissed when you come to again,” Illinois realized as he saw the other heroes, pulling Eric closer to him.

“Great,” Damien looked around, recognizing the Barnum estate. “You should have just left me there, it was closer to my place than here.”

“No, we live here,” Illinois clarified.

“Yes you live here but I don’t,” Damien snapped back up as he started for the door.

Just as he hit the foyer, Damien stopped at the large portrait hanging on the wall. It had previously sat in the Manor’s living room office, hidden and tucked away in the most private corner for Dark to look at. Since the portrait had been updated the demon had been convinced to bring it out into the main entrance hall.

The sight of it froze Damien dead in his tracks because neither Marc nor Celine were in the picture. Illinois was there but so were four other young men, one young lady, and two individuals that Damien thought looked familiar but couldn’t recognize.

Along the black frame frame in golden colored letters read the name: “BARNUM-DOOM” which completely halted Damien enough for Illinois to catch up.

“I think you need to lie down for a bit,” Illinois tried to offer.

“Where— Who—” Damien tried to place why the one with the curly mustache looked so familiar. Then Damien really looked at the man’s wide toothy smile and everything clicked.

It was Wil’s smile.

Damien’s hands trembled as he reached out to touch the picture, treating it so delicately as if the image would change to a different man.

“아빠?”[4] Illinois walked over, seeing the tears starting to fall from Damien’s face.

“Is,” Damien’s throat felt like it was clogged. “Is this your father?”

“You’re our father too,” Illinois reminded him.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Damien, he looked like he’d been completely frozen in place.

“We’re adopted,” Illinois told him, then corrected, “well most of us, Bim is yours by blood.”

“I can’t have children,” Damien’s response was quiet, almost a whisper.

“You guys did it with magic,” Illinois lied, mostly because explaining to Damien how cloning worked when Illinois barely understood it himself and the mayor would just be here for an hour at most seemed like a bad idea.

“Oh,” Damien replied, looking back at the picture. “That’s me with him?”

“Yes,” Illinois answered.

Damien fought the feeling that his throat was unbearably tight and he gave the only response he could: taking a step towards Illinois and wrapping his arms around him.

Illinois flinched a bit in surprise because normally Dark was not a hug-person, he avoided touch. The young man’s only thought was that Damien felt ice cold. But he ignored that thought, his father needed him.

“He did come back.” Damien was shaking as he held onto Illinois. “He came back and gave you to me.”

Illinois gave a sad smile as he hugged him back. “I’m here.”

Eventually, Damien pulled away, looking back at the portrait with a huge, excited smile, “Six? That’s amazing.”

Illinois looked back at the family portrait, and smiled. They’d had to force King and Yancy back into suits to take it. Illinois pointed to each of them. “That’s Host, there’s me, Kaylor or “Kay” for short, Yancy, Yan, and Bim.”

Damien’s hands traced over the bandages on Host’s face. “What happened?”

“He had a bit of an accident,” Illinois explained carefully. “He’s blind but his magic helps him navigate around.”

“The poor thing,” Damien looked around, “is he here?”

“No, he lives with his boyfriend but he’ll probably turn up,” Illinois told him. “He has a way of doing that.”

“Bim, Yan, and I are the only ones who still live here,” Illinois explained. “The others have moved out.”

At that Damien looked emotionally crushed, “Oh, I guess you are adults.”

Illinois looked back into the other room where the heroes were all awkwardly watching, Illinois and Damien blocking them from leaving through the front door. The young man needed to completely defuse the situation. “Damien” needed to go to bed and he needed to kick everyone but Eric out.

So Illinois took a deep, quiet breath and decided to tackle it one problem at a time. Step one: isolate Eric from the other heroes.

��Before we lose the plot,” Illinois began to gently steer Damien towards Eric who looked nervous. “Sweetheart, he already knows your face, you can lose the mask.”

“Oh,” Eric realized and quickly pulled it off and put his glasses back on. “Hi, Mr. Dark.”

“Uhhh,” Damien looked a bit uncomfortable.

“아빠[4] this is Eric, he’s my fiancé,” Illinois reintroduced. “We’re getting married in September.”

“Aren’t you a little sweetheart,” Damien smiled at Eric.

Eric smiled back nervously, his smile getting bigger as Illinois came over to wrap his arm around him.

“He’s amazing,” Illinois smiled lovingly at Eric who blushed and ducked his head at the compliment.

Illinois began herding Eric and Dark to the nearest couch, talking about wedding plans and Damien seemed to get more excited.

He turned to the four heroes, and opened his mouth to start the process of ushering the unwanted intruders out of his home.

But another voice cut through the air.

“Are we having a party?” Wilford’s slurred drawl cut through the air like a bullet. “Been ages since we’ve had company.”

The adventurer looked to see his other father walking in from the kitchen and Illinois only had one thought in his mind: “Fuck!”

Wil chuckled as he walked over to throw his arm around Illinois, “Sorry my boy, did I interrupt a good ol’ fashioned joke?”

Illinois heard his phone go off and looked to see that almost all of his siblings had tried to contact him. “Dammit!”

Damien stared up at Wil from his seat on the couch and unseen a metaphorical fuse was lit. But for now Damien was so happy. “Wil?”

“Mhmm?” Wil looked over at Damien. “Yes my sweet licorice?”

Illinois answered his phone, it was too late to quietly whisk Damien safely away so he had to run damage control, “Yeah, King, just saw your texts.”

Damien let out a choked sound and came from around the couch to run at Wil and wrap his arms around him.

Wil returned the hug and chuckled, “My, someone’s cuddly today.”

“I thought you’d forgotten about me,” Damien clung onto his partner.

“Never for long,” Wilford chuckled as he picked Damien up, his arms bracing the other man like a seat. “I am here now my Darkling, don’t you worry about a thing.”

Mark was a bit surprised by the look of complete adoration on Damien’s face.

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you?” Damien smiled, resting his forehead against Wil’s. “You are.”

“Is anyone dead?” Bim walked out of the kitchen. Then he froze at the three heroes, “The flying fuck are you doing in my house.”

“We’re having a party,” Wil announced.

“The fuck we are,” Bim spat and looked at Damien, who was still in Wil’s arms, “are you serious?”

“I—” Damien started.

“You know what, have fun, I’m heading somewhere else,” Bim decided, not even letting Damien finish. He used his hand to cut through the air with his aura and made a portal large enough for him to walk through. It snapped closed after him.

Damien looked like he’d been stabbed as he glanced at the spot Bim had just been in. He glanced at Wil, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no,” Wil was very quick to reassure. “He’s just in a mood is all.”

“Bim’s a brat,” Illinois announced loudly, briefly pulled away from his conversation with King

“Fuck you Ills!” Bim’s voice came from upstairs.

Illinois laughed, “Talk to you later Kay.” Then he hung up and pocketed his phone.

“Dad, why don’t you go get some drinks?” Illinois offered to Wil.

“Oh, of course, how rude of me,” Wil chuckled, setting Damien down who tried to follow Wil.

“Do you need any help?” Damien asked.

Wil gave Damien a quick peck on the cheek, “I know my way around a liquor cabinet, just go enjoy yourself, my dear.”

“If you insist,” Damien smiled and went back to the couch.

He looked back at the living room and had an odd flash of recognition, the faces of the people in the room briefly flashing to different guests he couldn’t quite remember.

As if something was dreadfully familiar.

“You okay?” Patton asked, immediately picking up on the tense air around Damien.

“I just,” Damien began but was distracted by some pictures on the mantle. Pictures of what looked like a happy and lovely family. One he couldn’t remember because a demon had been walking around in his body.

Giving him everything he had ever wanted and more.

“A demon is supposed to ruin your life, not make it infinitely better,” Damien said.

“Well that’s great fer yah,”[6] Jackie chimed in. “But he’s made our lives a livin’ hell.”[7]

“Don’t,” Illinois placed himself protectively in front of Damien.

“Don’t what?” Mark felt indignant fury come over him. “Don’t tell him that he let a demon crawl around in his skin and strangle the life out of my town.”

“Now I—” Damien tried to defend himself as Mark lightly pushed Marvin out of the way.

“Or how about the fact that Dark let Logic almost get tortured and killed by the guy who just walked through here,” Mark argued, turning to Patton. “Or did you forget.��

“I didn’t forget, I just—” Patton spoke up but Silver was so angry.

“Wil’s a mass murdering nut job,” Mark reminded.

“Wil is many things,” Damien argued back, “he might be an eccentric but he’s not a murdered.”

“He is and Dark has been letting him fly off the handle and kill people whenever he wants!” Silver shouted. He pointed to Illinois, “You’re a thief. Bim’s a cannibalistic psychopath.”

“You’re lying!” Damien tried to push around Illinois to punch Mark in the face, but Illinois held him back. Rage and anger boiling from a part of Damien’s soul he couldn’t control.  “Wil would never! You should know better, he’s your own brother! You’re just jealous that Celine left you for him!”

The instant those words left Damien’s mouth the fuse hit the end of its line and the memories came flooding back. The awful memories that left Damien dead and hollow.

In the wake of the mayor’s words the room went deadly silent. As if a bomb had gone off in the room.

“You,” Damien choked out as a dull ringing echo slowly seeped back into the room and the colors slowly started to fade. Recognition flared in his eyes, and slowly the black bruises on his neck came back and were getting darker and more necrotic-looking. “You stole everything from me.”

The look in Damien’s eyes was one of such hatred that Mark could physically feel it.

Illinois felt an aura push him out of the way. Damien let out an enraged scream and lunged at Mark.

Mark threw his hands up to protect his face, and began floating so he could get away but the hit never came. When he looked back Damien seemed trapped by some force as he screamed and tried to struggle. All too soon his screams began to get weaker and his skin began to turn grey.

Damien stiffened and Dark looked up.

“Get out of my house,” Dark growled and four was a gust of wind before Patton, Mark, Jackie, and Marvin were all tossed outside the front door.

Illinois and Eric were left in the living room as the house went back to normal.

“You can stay,” Dark told Eric who looked nervous. “You have a new suit I see, it certainly seems better than the old cloth one you had.”

“Uh, thanks,” Eric stammered nervously.

Wilford walked out with a tray of drinks, all of them swirling with his aura. The Host quietly, as his narrations would allow, followed behind him. He looked around the room. “Huh, didn’t we have company?”

Dark walked over and kissed him on the cheek, “That was last week, Wil.”

“Oh, silly me,” Wil chuckled and a portal opened for him to practically throw the tray into and dusted off his hands. “You know time, she plays hard to get.”

Illinois stomped over to stand next to the Host, glaring at his older brother, “Why didn’t you help?”

“Illinois will see that events are better this way,” the Host explained. “Besides, the Host helped stall Warfstache in the kitchen while Dark’s blue soul was losing himself.”

“You’re a real asshole sometimes, you know that right?” Illinois glared at him.

“The Host has been told,” the Host smiled and took a seat on the couch.

As the two young men spoke, Dark took the opportunity to portal to the front steps of the Manor and saw the four heroes still there.

“I thought I told the three of you to leave?” Dark reminded.

“I was so close!” Marvin shouted.

“How’s Damien?” Patton asked, everyone just letting Marvin rant off to the side.

“Screaming in eternal torment, as he usually does,” Dark told him, watching Patton flinch in sympathetic pain.

Dark’s expression softened, “As I hate being on anyone’s debt, expect me to pay back the favor shortly.”

“But I didn’t really do anything,” Patton reminded.

“Damien’s dead isn’t he?” Silver asked, that got Marvin’s attention immediately.

“Ahh, the matter of you,” Dark smiled. “By the reaction you had to Damien calling you “Mark” I can conclude that is also your name? You’re lucky that I’m not as blinded by rage that I can’t tell that you have a different face.”

“You saw that?” Silver asked.

“Of course I was watching, I was trying to get Damien back on his leash,” Dark snapped. “Do you know how long it takes to get him to do anything? He’ll be throwing one of his fits for the next month!”

Dark groaned and after cracking his neck twice, her form changed to look like her red soul. Marvin stared at her in realization. “There, at least he fell back asleep. He was resting peacefully before you four showed up.”

“They’re both dead, aren’t they?” Marvin thought out loud. “That’s why the spells never worked.”

Dark looked at Marvin. “Damien as a person is dead and shattered into pieces. He’s more like a wild animal than a person. He feels things, and occasionally can string errant thoughts, but the nice docile mayor you all desperately have been trying to reach is gone.”

“Is there—” Patton began, still trying to be helpful, and reminding Dark a bit of Damien’s old naivety in the process.

“No,” Dark began massaging her temples. “No, you’re all decades too late to help. Just let him rest. In about a week he would have been fine, but now that you’ve woken him up early that might not be the case. Just go and never bother me about this again.”

With that Dark turned to walk into a portal, the huge gate doors to the property opened. It took a while for the heroes to finally leave. Marvin heading off first and Patton lingering behind, as if he wanted to knock on the door and try to offer to help again.

Eventually the fronts were left cold and vacant, the gate doors swinging back closed and locking behind the heroes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations

1. “sweetie” in Spanish

2. Shit! Illinois’s coming in hot.

3. your

4. “Dad” in Korean, under informally. Phonetically read as: “appa”

5. You’re not going anywhere

6. Well that’s great for you

7. But he’s made our lives a living hell.

[larareadsthings]

Book review\discussion 2#

Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo

Published on October 8th in 2019 by Flatiron Books

Genre: murder mystery, fantasy, horror, dark academia (this is not a YA book!)

My rating on Goodreads: ★ ★ ★ ★

Synopsis:

Galaxy “Alex“ Stern is a young woman who comes from a troubled background. Having dropped out of school at a very young age, she goes down a path that involves drug addiction, an abusive boyfriend and many other shady businesses. After getting caught up in a multiple homicide Alex ends up in the hospital. When suddenly a stranger shows up and offeres her to go to Yale University she accepts. However Alex does not only end up being a college student but finds herself monitoring Yale‘s secret societies as they are conducting occult rituals.

My spoiler-free opinion:

This book has a really interesting pacing as it is divided into two timelines. It is quite important to keep that in mind, otherwise there could be some confusion later on. I personally love non-linear storytelling and the book uses it very well to built up its plot. At the same time the characters and setting feel incredibly realistic. Ninth House does not shy away from showing the cruel and disturbing side of things including traumatizing events. Then again it integrates supernatural elements into the mix without taking away this realistic and serious atmosphere. The only thing that could‘ve been executed a bit better was the world building. While there are so many details in this book, especially regarding Yale University, the rules having to do with the supernatural elements were only introduced little by little. Therefore even towards the end of the book there were new things that had to be explained. All in all Ninth House was really enjoyable and I found myself thinking about it, even months after finishing it. There is one last thing I‘d like to say before discussing this book in all detail. If you are someone who is easily disturbed or dealing with some sort of trauma you might want to look up some trigger warnings before getting into this story as it has some quite explicit content.

Discussion (! This section of the post contains spoilers!)

I really love Alex. It was very refreshing to have a story told following an anti-hero type of character. Especially the way she was lost at first and tried to get used to being a Dante made it easy to get to know her. The main reason this book didn’t get a 5 star rating from me is because of the motives for the crimes. Dean Sandow being responsible for killing Tara and Darlington‘s disappearance only because he needed some money was a bit weak. However I liked the interactions Alex had with the Grays as most of theme were really disturbing. I don‘t think I have to say a lot about Darlington as the internet already loves him to pieces (and same goes for me). Hopefully we‘ll get to see some more of him in the next book because I have a lot of questions about him being a demon. It is similar with Dawes. I found her to be a quite likeable character but we have not seen enough of her yet.

Conclusion:

Ninth House is one of these books that will linger in your head for a long time, even after finishing it. I am very excited for the second book in the series and there wil definitely a review for that as well.

With all of that being said I hope you all have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening :)

[andromedaatnight]

comeback—

Andromeda put her trunk down with a thud. She’d made herself take a Portkey right to Wiltshire, knowing that if she didn’t force herself to have this conversation she would go back to Hogsmeade in an effort to pretend everything was normal. But it was better to be back on her own terms, instead of waiting for the inevitable summons — and besides, better to speak to her parents first instead of arguing with her sisters (and Andromeda was certain they would argue).

In any case she couldn’t leave now, not unnoticed. The manor had registered her presence, in whatever complicated way Druella’s wards worked, and she was fairly certain a house elf had caught sight of her on her walk. She squared her shoulders and knocked.

The door sprang open; the hallway beyond was cool and deserted. Andromeda hauled her trunk inside herself, aware that this was some sort of punishment. Of course, she’d carried it around for weeks without magic, so this wasn’t so bad — but she had a feeling it was only the start.

Still, she had a purpose here, and if the house was going to freeze her out she might as well get the conversation over with. Andromeda abandoned her trunk and wandered further into the manor. “Bonky?” she called. No answer. If the friendliest house elf wouldn’t greet her, Druella had to have instructed them to keep away. She’d have to find her mother on her own.

She used the walk to order her thoughts, pausing every now and then to cast revelio so she knew what rooms not to bother checking. First, apologise. Then, explain. Then, make demands. She was afraid, but she was used to getting what she wanted, in some shape or form. Andromeda held onto that stubborn confidence, stopping at last at the closed door to the drawing room.

She tried the doorknob. Locked. She sighed, and knocked. “Mum, it’s me.”

A long, imperious silence followed. Finally, the door gave way. Druella was perched on the settee, wand held loosely in her hands, not doing anything at all except studiously avoiding her daughter’s gaze. Andromeda stood in the doorway for a moment, remembering all the times she had sat at the foot of that very settee, knowing she had ticked her mother off, too proud to say sorry. Sometimes she would be forgiven anyway: the brush of a hand over her hair, just briefly. Absolution, in Druella’s own way. There was no sign of that in her expression just then. 

“I’m sorry,” Andromeda began, because she knew that was how she ought to begin. “I didn’t want to worry you all, I really didn’t. But I needed to—” 

She could feel a lie shaping itself here, the middle path she’d walked for so long appearing as if by magic beneath her feet. Oh, my degree’s in Transfiguration, nothing to do with Muggle Studies… Oh, I don’t think that’s necessarily true, about Muggleborns… Always wriggling out of extremes, of taking a stand.

“—I needed to think,” Andromeda finished. “And, I needed the space to think. I didn’t, I mean—” She retrieved a bag from the pocket of her coat. “Here’s the money I used. Every Knut of it, I’m paying you back. So I didn’t steal from you to fund my…thinking.”

Druella’s coldness morphed into something dry and scornful. It was an expression Andromeda had mastered, had seen her sisters master too. But familiarity didn’t dull its edge.

“I should tell you not to be vulgar, but you seem to be making a habit of it. It was certainly vulgar of you to run off like some common wretch,” Druella said, her gaze flicking away once more. “Thank your lucky stars, Andromeda, that your father and I allowed you to carry on with your stupid thinking instead of dragging you back here the moment we heard.”

She swallowed hard. She had counted on her parents caring about gossip. If her face had been splashed across the Prophet with a “MISSING” headline, if the Blacks had notified their Ministry connections, she wouldn’t have lasted two days in Paris, blonde or no.

“Well, thank you. For not doing that. But we needed to have a conversation, in February. And I’m sorry I didn’t have the courage to have it with you back then.” Andromeda took a few hesitant steps closer. “I can’t marry Cyrus. And I won’t.”

Druella did not flinch. She didn’t even look surprised. “Spoken like a child. You have all the freedom you could want, and you take advantage of our trust in you—”

“You don’t trust me!” Her voice rose automatically; she cut herself off and started again. “You don’t trust me, or you would let me choose who I marry and when I marry him. Like you trusted Trixy. This way is — it’s just worse for everyone. I’m bound to muck it up.” 

She couldn’t keep the desperation from her voice. Her mother’s hand on her head. An I love you, in her own way. Wasn’t it? Wasn’t it still true, wasn’t it unconditionally, always true?

Druella sneered. “You’ll do as you’re told—”

“Or what?”

The words came out like a whip-crack, followed by a ringing silence. Andromeda couldn’t believe she’d said them. It was too late to take them back.

“Come here,” said Druella.

Andromeda’s heart squeezed in relief. She hurried to her mother’s side, nearly tripping in her haste — and then she was tripping, as if a cold hand had grabbed her ankle. She landed hard on her knees at the settee’s edge; the force brought tears to her eyes. Druella seized her chin in one hand, jerking her face upwards. The lacquered wooden handle of her wand bit into Andromeda’s neck. Like she knew I’d fall, Andromeda thought, dazed — and her next thought was the cold shock of disillusionment. Of course she’d known. She’d done it.

“I will say it again,” Druella said, her voice sweet and soft. “You will do as you’re told. Wilfulness makes you charming, but it only goes so far. I’ve written to Hogwarts and told them you will not be pursuing your masters—”

“Mum, but—” Surely that wasn’t something she could do?

Druella’s grip tightened. “Don’t interrupt me. There is a price to pay for disobedience, and don’t think you’re too good to pay it.”

“I told you, I’m sorry,” Andromeda said, her throat tight with tears. Maybe she hadn’t meant it earlier, but she meant it then.

“Don’t interrupt me, Andromeda.” Druella’s lips were a thin, furious line.

She’d beg if she had to, she decided. She wasn’t too good to beg, not when her freedom was at stake. But no sound came out of her mouth at all when she opened it. She tried again, felt the rasp of a cry in her throat — still, silence.

Her mother’s cold fury cracked. She sighed, shaking her head. “I warned you, didn’t I? Didn’t I tell you that if you behaved and married that boy by the end of the year, you could have your degree? But you forced my hand. You keep forcing my hand, and I’m trying to do what’s best for you.”

The hand in question moved from Andromeda’s quivering chin to her cheek. Druella sighed once more; Andromeda followed suit, though her sob was noiseless. Her spine was straight, her knuckles white against the dark red settee. She noticed these details instead of thinking about the woman in front of her, because they were easier to concentrate on. Had this always been her mother? Had she always lived like this? Or had something changed while she was away? What’s the worst that could happen? Andromeda had written to Alice, partly in jest. But the worst was beyond her scope of imagination. 

“Well, go and wash up for lunch. You can eat before you go back to Hogwarts.”

Andromeda did not respond, or move. Would she recognise her voice when she spoke, or would her mother’s Silencing Charm have changed it fundamentally? She couldn’t imagine sounding the same. As if nothing had happened. As if it were all some distant bad dream.

“Are you crying?” Druella lifted her chin upwards again, more gently this time. Andromeda met her gaze. “Oh, don’t cry.” Her mother gave an aggrieved eye-roll, giving her a brisk, dismissive pat on the cheek. “I hate it when you cry.“

[curewhimsy]

Shiro-Sora masterpost

Here are plans for my Mega Project. It’s a visual novel concept.

But since I have no skill in making a VN, I’m just going to write a story. Like the anime that will be based off the VN. Like Clannad’s anime or something.

It’s going to be long since I have (ahem...) FOURTY-SIX (46) WHOLE CHARACTERS WITH ROUTES THAT I’M GOING TO INCORPORATE.

This is why I said I will never ever finish it, even if I devote my entire life to it.

But it won’t feel right without all these characters. I WANT to have all these characters. I’m a “go big or go home” person. I’m too ambitious and I know that.

Well, since it has 46 characters, I’m thinking of calling it “Shiro-Sora” meaning “White-Sky” since 46 can be pronounced as “shiro.”

In kanji: 「白空」

In hiragana: 「しろそら」 (This will be the “official” Japanese spelling btw)

Alternatively: 「46そら」

Anyway...

Here are the characters.

Haku, Neru, Miku, Luka, Teto, Gumi, Meiko, Lapis, Merli, Lily, IA, Yukari, Uta, Zatsune, Rin, Len, Kaito, Akaito, Dell, Gakupo, Yuuma, Piko, Mizuki, Nigaito, Dex, Daina, Ruby, Taya, Longya, Ling, Momo, SeeU, Ruko, Ritsu, Miki, Aku, Bruno, Clara, Iroha, Yuu, Wil, Kyo, Akari, Qingxian, Anon, Kanon

In the story adaption, Uta Utane (Defoko) will take the role as the player/main character, and learns everyone’s backstories. She will be the one with the (gigantic) “harem” around her. Think, Tomoya from Clannad. But IF there’s ever an actual game, I’ll plan on Uta being one of the date-able characters. She’ll be your childhood friend.

The characters are all college students here, attending a predominantly music-oriented community college called Sonare Community College. There is also an acting branch as well, but it’s less predominant. This is why there is an emphasis on music, instruments, composing, and singing.

The reason the characters are all between 18-24 is so they can mostly be in the same age range. Therefore I can ship quite a lot of pairs...

Here are descriptions I thought of already. For some of these Loids, this is my first time EVER writing or portraying them. Ever.

(Full names are listed in Western order. This is partly due to the story taking place in the USA, in a “Japantown” sort of place to explain the prominent Japanese population.)

——————————————————

Haku Yowane- Age: 22 A shy, gloomy girl who is looking to join in the school’s choir. However, she isn’t confident to work up the courage to audition. The choir has been moving down in popularity every year, with more and more students pursuing solo stardom. When she gets the news the choir may be disbanded, Haku feels she has to do something soon. Haku has only a small bit of experience in both singing and the piano, but she came to Sonare Community College because music is her dream. Haku seems to depend on Neru, her only friend, to comfort her when she gets down. Haku is the cousin of the popular Miku Hatsune, who is the most popular girl in the school and a very talented musician in many ways. Haku ends up a musician who sings and plays the piano. Neru Akita- Age: 22 A tomboy with a hot temper. But inside, she hides delicate feelings. She seems to always be with Haku, cheering her up when she gets down. The two seem to only have each other. Neru didn’t go to Sonare Community College to pursue music, however, she ends up joining the choir with Haku, despite her shabby voice. She also ends up falling in love with musical theatre! Miku Hatsune- Age: 20 A very popular girl and talented singer, dancer, and performer. A bubbly, cheerful sweetheart. Has lots of friends and is always smiling. Idealistic and doesn’t believe in impossible. Miku dreams big, but apparently she gets very depressed when her dreams are crushed. Luckily that never seems to happen… for now. Miku is an all-star musical performer. Luka Megurine- Age: 24 A polite and elegant woman. She can appear aloof and intimidating at first, but is actually just shy. She is half Japanese, a quarter French, and a quarter German. A talented vocalist who can also play quite a few instruments. Teto Kasane- Age: 20 A bubbly girl who can be childish. Is playful, weird, and a bit demanding. Very clumsy. More inclined in visual arts than music, but started a music hobby on a whim. Gumi- Age: 21 A girl who can be a bit shy, but once you get past that, Gumi is unique, free-spirited, and chill. She likes art and reading books. She keeps a sketchbook with her at all times. More inclined in visual arts than music, but likes musical theatre. Meiko Sakine- Age: 24 The confident, mature woman of the group. Energetic and loves to party. Still responsible. Like a mother or older sister. Has quite a temper, though she mostly uses it to defend others… Has a love of karaoke, and wishes to improve her singing. Lapis Aoki- Age: 20 Merli’s stepsister, who seems to be the opposite of her. Bubbly and playful, and quite childish. Quite friendly. However, she can be a bit selfish at times. Lapis is Japanese, though her adoptive sister Merli is Indian. Loves singing and theatre. Merli Aoki- Age: 24 Lapis’ stepsister, who seems to be the opposite of her. She can seem cold and distant, even a bit harsh at first. But inside, she is very thoughtful and willing to help those important to her. Merli is Indian, though she was adopted into Lapis’ Japanese family after the death of her parents. Is a singer with a dramatic vocal, and has a secret love of theatre. However, she is often chosen to be the villain due to her voice. She wishes her voice were less “intimidating” so she could be the heroine. Lily- Age: 23 The school’s toughest female delinquent. People often wonder why or how she’s still in school. She gets into a lot of fights. What people fail to notice is that she’s usually defending the weak, bu she sometimes just goes overboard. Lily has a punk-rock style and plays the electric guitar. IA- Age: 22 An idolized girl in the school for her good looks and singing skills, along with being a great songwriter and composer! However, she hides dark feelings? Yukari Yuzuki- Age: 21 Half sister to Akari Kizuna. Looks up to IA but also feels she will never be as good as her. Composes music as a hobby, and sings. She feels her singing is horrible. Uta Utane- Age: 21 A rather plain, bluntly-spoken person who doesn’t see much in life. Usually bored, silent, and rather deadpan. Once a bright girl with lots of dreams. Deep inside, she is passionate and caring, really… Can it be restored? She is non-binary, going mostly by she/her. Uta is rather bored with life, including music, and really only keeps playing the violin because she’s come so far and doesn’t want to quit. Miku Zatsune- Age: 21 Edgy and hates Miku (out of mostly jealousy.) She would rather be called Zatsune, because her first name happens to be Miku, like the person she despises so much… But could there be something deeper to her? Zatsune’s music style is heavy and gritty. She considers it “harsh reality,” unlike Miku’s “bubblegum fluff.” Rin Kagamine- Age: 18 Rin is a bit chaotic. She is bold, brash, athletic, and charming. She is also just plain nuts. She plays the saxophone. Len Kagamine- Age: 18 Len fries to be cool and hip, but he is just a big dork. He is quite the comedian however, sometimes unintentionally. He plays the drums and trumpet. Kaito Shion- Age: 22 Kaito is a silly boy. He loves ice cream, unicorns, rainbows, and anything fluffy. But he also has moments of seriousness where he says really deep, philosophical things. He is quite romantic. He plays the piano and sings. Akaito Shion- Age: 24 Akaito is a sarcastic and grumpy boy, but when it comes to romance, he gets quite passionate. He sometimes flirts around with girls, but when he finally finds a true love with a girl (or guy) who truly changes his life… well… it’s a bit different. Akaito is a choir singer and he also plays electric bass. Dell Honne- Age: 24 Dell is usually in a bad mood. He currently lives with a father who barely acknowledges him. He tends to keep it all inside, and he’s really just lonely and needs to find someone to vent to. He is Haku’s half-brother, but they didn’t grow up together. He enjoys computer programming and composing electronic music. Gakupo Kamui- Age: 24 Gakupo likes doing kendo and martial arts, and is generally athletic. He is a nice guy who also loves animals and history. He seems serious, but can be unexpectedly silly sometimes. He likes embracing his Japanese and Ainu heritage. He often plays the shamisen, and also drums. He likes rock music. Yuuma- Age: 23 Yuuma likes music and is quite popular. He may seem hard to approach, because sometimes he doesn’t know what to say. He is a little blunt at times, but has a good heart. He has a crush on Mizuki. He likes orchestral music and EDM. Piko Utatane- Age: 21 Piko is a genius who loves astronomy and excels in mathematics and physics. He is a shy and compassionate person, but whenever he opens his mouth, he sounds very strict. He is bad at socializing and making friends, which leaves him quite lonely. On top of that, he is sickly and absent from school often. Piko wishes to make a friend. His first friend in the school is Lapis Aoki, who pretends to be a fairy to grant his wish. After a while, Lapis declares that she wants to be Piko’s friend. Piko ended up at Sonare Community College despite excelling in other studies due to his missing many high school days. However, Piko likes EDM and is inspired to be a singer after spending days at his college. Mizuki- Age: 21 Mizuki is a singer who also plays the a Japanese harp (koto.) She is quite a charming person and seems to flirt with many people… even girls… but not Yuuma. Since Yuuma has a crush on Mizuki, this discourages him. Nigaito Shion- Age: 19 The youngest of the three Shion bothers. Nigaito’s nicknames are Nini and Nii. He is rather sickly, but remains to have a warm and pure heart. Nigaito plays the clarinet. Dex- Age: 22 Daina’s childhood friend. Best friends, even though they are of completely different genders, and with very different personalities. Some people wonder how it works. Dex is silly, fun, a bit of a party animal, but he is still very caring and compassionate. He just needs a bit of help devoting himself to his studies. But he is quite intelligent when he is focused. He is Black, Creole, and is learning French. Dex plays piano and sings. Daina- Age: 22 Dex’s childhood friend. Best friends, even though they are of completely different genders, and with very different personalities. Some people wonder how it works. Daina likes to study and learn, and doesn’t like atmospheres like parties so much. She prefers quiet, peaceful places. She may seem a bit distant on the outside, but she is just a little shy. She is White, with English and French heritage. Daina composes music on the computer and sings. Ruby- Age: 21 Ruby is rather confident, yet nice, and will always give people a helping hand. She is Black and Latina. Ruby likes EDM and sings and dances. Taya Soune- Age: 21 Taya is incredibly polite, bowing at many occasions and also offering to do favors a lot. He speaks very formally. Taya has anemia and sometimes needs blood transfusions. He is non-binary, but go mostly by he/him. Taya likes musical theatre. He also plays the cello. Longya Yuezheng- Age: 24 A quite serious man who is dutiful and studious. Protective over his younger sister, Ling, and monitors her safety constantly. This is due to Ling nearly getting into a tragic accident when they were younger, traumatizing Longya. He is Chinese. He plays piano and flute. Ling Yuezheng- Age: 20 Ling is a hardworking student, however she has a playful side and she feels lonely that she doesn’t have many friends and is devoting her life to studying. She sings and dances. Momo Momone- Age: 19 A peaceful, sleepy girl. Rather low-energy and tranquil. However, Momo has quite a temper when it comes to injustice. Momo is a singer and theatre performer. SeeU- Age: 20 A rather eccentric, bold and energetic girl with “the light of the stars in her eyes.” She is Korean. SeeU is a singer and dancer. Ruko Yokune- Age: 24 Ruko is one of the most mature characters, having a lot of wisdom about life and many experiences. However, they still have moments where they need a helping hand. Ruko is non-binary, mostly going by she/her or they/them. Ruko is a talented vocalist with incredible range. Ritsu Namine- Age: 22 Ritsu is rather brash, but means well. He is non-binary and mostly go by he/him. He is a talented singer with a powerful voice. Miki- Age: 18 Loves romance anime/manga and is obsessed with “cute couples.” A true fangirl. Acts cute and animated. Iroha’s best friend. She is a singer, who also wants to be a voice actress in anime. Aku Yamine- Age: 19 Hates her name, because it’s pronounced the same as the word for “evil” in Japanese. Prefers to be called Akurin. Aku is a very nice and naive, somewhat clumsy girl with big dreams. Is half Black and half Japanese. She is a piano player and a theatre performer. She struggles with singing. Bruno- Age: 22 Black Latino, lived in the Dominican Republic. Polite and soft-spoken, but a talented acoustic guitarist. Sometimes sings. Clara- Age: 23 From Colombia, and is Latina. A rather doting girl who somehow feels like both a mother and a little sister. A singer and dancer. Iroha Nekomura- Age: 18 Loves cute things and stuffed animals. Is kind of insecure and doesn’t find herself very cute, though her best friend Miki constantly reassures her. A singer and drummer. Yuu- Age: 20 A sweet, cheerful guy who is always filled with energy. Half English, half Japanese. He is in a boy-band with Wil and Kyo called ZOLA PROJECT. He sings and plays electric guitar. Wil- Age: 22 A sophisticated, fashionable guy who is quite outgoing. He is Black. He is in a boy-band with Yuu and Kyo called ZOLA PROJECT. He sings and plays electric bass. Kyo- Age: 21 A wild, energetic guy who is always raring to go. He is Japanese. He is in a boy-band with Yuu and Wil called ZOLA PROJECT. He sings and plays drums, and adds sounds to their songs via computer programs. Akari Kizuna- Age: 18 Yukari Yuzuki’s half-sister. Cheerful and sweet, and wants to make others smile… even though many heavy thoughts are hiding behind her own smile. A singer who is also an actress. Qingxian Mo- Age: 23 She seems very nice, but she’s actually a bit self-absorbed. Since her name is hard to pronounce for English-speakers, she insists on being called Qing (pronounced like Ching.) A model who also sings and plays clarinet. Anon- Age: 21 A somewhat reserved girl who likes to read and play video games. Very resilient and tough. Does martial arts. Has a very strong punch. Is often annoyed by her sister, Kanon. Sings, dances, and composes music. Kanon- Age: 21 A cheerful girl who likes to annoy her sister, Anon. But like her sister, she does sometimes get kind of scary. Does martial arts. Has a very strong kick. Sings, dances, and composes music.

——————————————————

Now, I made a list of couples... Who ends up with who by the end of the story? This is for the “novel adaption”, obviously.

Uta and whoever she ends up with might get a bit of an... “After Story” like CLANNAD After Story. And it might feature everyone else as a married couple too!

Spoilers below the cut.

——————————————————

Haku x Neru

Kaito x Dell

Miku x Gumi

IA x Yukari

Lapis x Piko

Teto x Luka

Meiko x Gakupo

Iroha x Miki

Ruko x Ritsu

Merli x Lily

Akaito x Yuuma

Bruno x Clara

Dex x Daina

Len x Nigaito

Rin x Akari

Ruby x SeeU

Anon x Mizuki

Zatsune x Aku

Wil x Longya

Yuu x Ling

Kyo x Qingxian

Kanon x Momo

Uta x Taya

Yes, the main couple by the end will be Uta and Taya. I think you MAY have seen it coming... considering I was all over Taya today. But also, as I was pairing up every Vocaloid, only a few remained, around six. Uta and Taya were two of the last ones, and I decided it worked. So yeah.

[ghdjhdfhgkdmoved]

i know you already did this a few days ago but what are some more songs that remind you of the egos? :O you can give a song for all of them or just a couple songs for one of them depending on what you want!! i just want some songs for them lol

i have. SO MANY SONGS. YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND

fhdjfhdj here’s a few of em:

songs that remind me of anti: “the new romans” by nero’s day at disneyland, “lost in bonerland” (i know that that’s very strange name for a song but it’s not what you think i swear) also by nero’s day at disneyland, genuinely just… any song by nero’s day at disneyland. they’re VERY loud and chaotic nd just give off the biggest anti vibes. also “bad bad things” by ajj reminds me of anti lyric-wise with the whole “i killed your family” thing

songs that remind me of chase: “pork soda” by glass animals, “waiting by the phone” by bo en, nd “my time” which is also by bo en,,, “505″ by the arctic monkeys nd “i earn my life” by lemon demon are also very good nd reminds me of chase a lot,,,, god i have a lot of songs that fit chase i should make a playlist

songs that remind me of schneep: “novocaine” by GHOST and creep-p is ABSOLUTELY one. literally when i was first listening to this song nd heard the words “the doctor will see you now.” my mind just went “SCHNEEP???” (hyperdontia is a sequel to that song nd it also reminds me of schneep,,,,) also uHHhh  “dem bones” and “dr. sawbones” both by creature feature remind me of him. mainly because “dem bones” is very goofy while also being fucking terrifying, and dr. sawbones is kinda the same way except there’s no goofiness. “touch tone telephone” by lemon demon also reminds me of him because,,,, scientist

songs that remind me marvin: oh god it really depends on what interp of marvin. good marv?? bad marv??? i dunno. uhhh “taken for a ride” by tally hall reminds me of him… mainly because the beginning lines are literally “marvin walked into a helpless land, and wondered lightly, ‘am i happy?’”,  “star of the show” nd “candle queen” by GHOST both give me big marvin vibes. also “master of your fate” from teen titans is about an evil magician nd is very marvin-esque

i’ve already mentioned jj nd jackie in separate posts nd i have like… barely any songs that remind me of them so i’m not gonna write those down again fhdjdfhdj

i also wanted to do mark’s egos as well but mark has SO MANY and this post is already super goddamn long so instead i will do a few of my favorties

songs that remind me of dark: “evelyn evelyn” by,,, well, evelyn evelyn is a song about conjoined twins, nd how one of them wants to separate but the other one doesn’t because they don’t wanna be alone nd that just,, kinda reminds me of celine nd damien. also “misery loves company” by emilie autumn is very good nd makes me think of dark

songs that remind me of wilford: “do it all the time” by IDKHBTFM. just,,, everything about that song reminds me of wil. also “colorbars” by GHOST

songs that remind of yan: “i will possess your heart” by death cab for cutie and “rotten girl, grotesque romance” by machigerita-p are very much yan songs. i do not feel the need to explain why

songs that remind me of google: “time is up” by poppy is like,, the only song that reminds me of google but it fits him VERY well nd is super good ok

alright that’s it i can’t take any more typing

[carterhaughs]

Desire, Duty, & Transformative Self-Love: How Revan Saved Bastila

I posted this analysis some years ago and wanted to repost it now that I have more friends into SW following me.

The thing I’ve thought most about since finishing KOTOR a few days ago (I’ve yet to play KOTOR II but I will when I get home for winter break and have access to a PC) is why Bastila turned to the Dark Side, and why she returned to the Light (or in my interpretation, the Gray, although KOTOR I doesn’t really make this clear).

In-game, there are a number of factors alluded to as being decisive in her choice - her headstrong, wilful tendencies are twice brought up by Jolee in his reasoning as to why she turned despite being strong, and I think it was also he who mentioned that Bastila exposed herself to Revan’s “dark taint” when she touched his mind. The dark influence of the Star Forge on those in its presence is mentioned too - it drove the entire race of the Rakata mad with power and jealousy, after all - and even though the connection is never made explicit, this, too, probably had some impact on Bastila as it was the facility in which she was tortured. It’s easy to think of this dark influence functioning in a way similar to that of the One Ring in the Lord of the Rings series - it preys upon one’s weaknesses, as Jolee explained Malak did upon Bastila’s.

In addition to all the nebulous yet substantive reasons given in-game, I believe a few other influential factors can reasonably be inferred from Bastila’s upbringing. It seems likely to me that Bastila was raised to be a weapon but never fully understood for whom she was meant to pull the trigger. Like all jedi-in-training, she was purposely isolated from the world she was meant to protect for much of her childhood, but I imagine her isolation was even more complete than that of other younglings and Padawan. The moment her affinity for Battle Meditation was discovered, I think she was probably further isolated from her peers in order that it might be honed as quickly and effectively as possible - she had the potential to be an extremely powerful weapon, exactly what the Republic needed in the Jedi Civil War. Bastila’s fierce strength of will probably lent itself well to the unprecedented speed with which she developed her Battle Meditation ability, and in her isolation she probably came to believe that it was the end all, be all of her existence. She was a weapon for the Republic’s use before she was anything else, and indeed, as a Jedi, there was little opportunity for her to be anything else. She was meant to live a life of non-attachment and stifled emotions, and on top of that, she was meant to serve as a tool. With no other substantive worldly connections besides her connection to the abstract good of the Republic, she likely felt very alone, and consequently based her self-worth on her ability to serve as an effective tool to the Republic. How else was she to value herself, with no other metric of human connection and no real understanding of her own self-worth beyond her efficacy as a tool?

While this would have been hard on anyone, it was especially hard on Bastila, whose capacity and need for love is singularly acute. It’s clear from her actions prior to falling to the Dark Side that she valued the connections she formed with others deeply - why else would she so willingly sacrifice herself for Revan and Carth’s sake without a second thought? How ironic that the first connection she’s ever truly allowed to have with someone is with a former Dark Lord of the Sith! It really speaks to her isolation that the only reason she is allowed to foster this bond is because of a technicality - she must probe Revan’s mind for the coordinates to the pieces of the star map to the Star Forge in order that she might, once again, serve as an effective tool for the Republic. And in the course of that mission, she can’t help but become attached to this bond, the first she’s ever been allowed to share, even though she knows of the dangers that come with valuing bonds in such a deep and abiding way. They lead to love, the form of attachment most offensive to the Jedi code, and love leads to the Dark Side (or so she has been taught). It’s not surprising that Bastila formed a Force Bond with Revan in particular - canonically, both of them have stubborn, headstrong natures conducive to an independent-minded strength of will that flies in the face of the Jedi Code.

Her lonely subconscious fed on that unorthodoxy - that potential “dark taint” that colored Revan’s memories - because in him (or her - I’m saying him simply for convenience’s sake and bc I played a dude Revan), it had unwittingly found a kindred spirit. Bastila was given to self-loathing because she could not purge herself of that unorthodoxy - that fierce, strident spirit so discouraged by the Jedi Order. I believe that the Jedi Order saw it as an inappropriate reliance on self-love and hubris, but their mistake was in assuming that a prideful spirit will inevitably meet its end in this way. Their attempt to stifle and eradicate it did nothing but suppress it instead of dealing with it in a healthy way by looking at it as a means for self-improvement and self-preservation that has its own rewards both for oneself and others. Pride can be a folly, but you cannot divorce the sense of self, no matter how disproportionate, from the quest for self-improvement. It would have been better to acknowledge Bastila’s self-love (which they only encouraged by reminding her daily that the entire Republic relied on her abilities) and teach her to deal with it in a healthy way and use it as a means to help others by way of the confidence and conviction required for effective leadership. Instead, they expected her to subjugate her fierce spirit (a spirit that likely developed at least in part as a defense mechanism when she was asked to become the only thing standing between the Republic and total annihilation) to complete humility instead of a healthy degree of self-regard that still made room for compassion.

When she was tortured by Malak, she was alone again - she’d lost the one connection in her life that she’d ever been allowed to have - her connection with Revan. Bastila was once again just a weapon - it was all she was and all that mattered. Alone and vulnerable and in constant pain, she was open to suggestion. And as she explains when you fight her at the Star Forge, the Dark Side gave her free rein to rely on the passions she’d kept so tightly coiled for so many years. In unimaginable pain, it’s no wonder that she gave in to the way her proud spirit cried out at the injustice of it all. As a weapon with no connection to anyone, what did it matter for whom she pulled the trigger? What really mattered was whether or not she was in control - that she was the one pulling it, at her whim. That she wasn’t being used and that her personhood was respected. Even if Malak, too, only saw her as a tool, one day she could surpass him. For years, she’d been denied her passions and the need for connection they’d entailed so that she could fulfil her sole purpose as the Republic’s trump card. With no connection to those the Republic sought to protect, in her despair, she could see no inherent value in their protection. She could only see the value of self-love when self-love was all she’d ever been able to develop as it was all she was allowed to have, even though it, too, was discouraged. And her upbringing had encouraged her to view the world in binaries, so she chose the Dark Side instead of some third way that harmonized her desires with her duties. She’d only ever been allowed to love the good of the Republic in the abstract and had not been allowed to witness love with a human face.

Until she met Revan. She was encouraged to connect with him, even though that connection was meant only to be instrumental to the Republic’s cause. But in forging that first connection, he gave her something to hold on to and that’s why, canonically, he is able to pull her back. He was able to find some value in the Light Side not in spite of his passions, but because of them. He was able to channel his fierce love of the world into a desire to protect it with as much compassion as he can muster, and he is living proof that she can do the same, and that non-attachment and emotional repression are nowhere near as conducive to strength against the Dark Side as well-grounded love and compassionate fervor. And it is her recognition of this as the foundation of their bond - that this is what she loves about him - that leads her to realize that she, too, can become the best version of herself by following his path because she sees herself in him. She’s openly loved by him as a person, not because she’s a potent tool. To me, it’s as if they’re two sides of the same coin (and that is likely why they were Force-Bound) - Bastila’s will to resist the Dark Side was weakened by her having lived too little within the world and too much in the abstract without anything to which she might tether herself, while Revan’s fall was linked to cynicism - to having seen too much of the world and being sickened by it (like the destruction of the Cathar homeworld by the Mandalorians that lead to his acquiring his mask) and desiring to rectify it by any means possible. They are each others’ obverse, and together they are completed by love. It’s as Jolee said - “Love doesn’t lead to the dark side. Passion can lead to rage and fear, and can be controlled… but passion is not the same thing as love. Controlling your passions while being in love… that’s what they should teach you to beware. But love itself will save you… not condemn you."

[henry-stein-art]

The Ink Demonth [by Halfusek] - Day 10 and day 11 (Mechanic + Bargaining)

Not really inspired what to draw about Bargaining theme and I have to check what it means because it’s a word that I never seen before, sorry :”) so I wanted to continue my vision of the pre-game story and do this OS in echo of theses 2 drawing of last year Ink Demonth. It’s fuse both theme Mechanic and Bargaining.

Bertrum Piedmont was with his pupil, Lacie Benton, when Joey Drew and Grant Cohen went for talking about the project. The both men are around the table where a model is set. Lacie hold a plan and show something with his finger. They talk about what to do with the stuff in more of the attractions, like Bendy-bot and big friendly mascot. Joey assure him that he can found him some people for work as the mascots. Speaking of the wolf...

“Good morning, Mr. Piedmont.

Mr. Drew. I’m pleased to see you here. I wanted to introduce you my boy, Lacie Benton. He helps me by work on all the mechani...

I’m pretty sure that’s it’s a pretty story but I don’t have enough time for it, sorry Bertie.”

Bertrum frowns his eyebrows, he really doesn’t like being called like this. Especially when it’s in the Joey’s mouth. But he doesn’t say any word and take some sheets that he put on the table.

“So, here all the plan for Bendyland. The star will be the haunted house. A tower will be in the background and here, in the center, a carousel with my name on it.

Your name? I’m not sure about that. Bendyland is about Bendy.

I ask just for my name on the attraction. All the attractions has the creator signature. Like... Like on your drawing!

Hm, we’ll see. A museum with your name and your pupil... what’s his name?

Lacie Benton. But if you need a museum, it will cost more.”

Grant look at his financial specifications. Lacie look at him. This man look likes he’s overstressed and drink too much of coffee for not enough sleeping. Some numbers are written in a mess and some words. He now write 37,21 + 287, turn a page and write again 76 - 17k. In the bottom of the page, he strike out the previous number and then write in a big and strong typo $48 128 SHORT. Joey understand all of this mess mathematics and look surprised at Grant.

“Mr. Drew, we can’t do this. We has not enough money!

So make more money!

But we have no time for waste more money! Or you must stay sober and stop useless expenses and big paycheck.

I will talk about this with my dear friend Henry. He loves the cartoon more than the bills.

I don’t think you can live without money and eat the reels of you cartoons.

The reels no but the ink... Anyway, continue to do good working Bertie! I will come back with all the money and your museum! You will got a pretty portrait of all your... great person in the center of this museum! I promise!”

After Joey and Grant get out of the room, Bertrum left his anger get out too. His fist meet the wall, knocking down some of the drawings plans. Lacie try to calm him and ask why he’s so anger. Bertrum turn and look at the boy, with a sad and dark look. He said with a low voice that he never heard before: “Joey Drew is a man of ambition, for sure, but he can’t promise anything.

What does that mean?

That means that he doesn’t intend to recognize our work.

Yeah I notice that when he ask for my name instead of you tell him at first. We’ll see next days. I go in my workshop for the Bendy-bot.”

Next day later, Lacie almost finish the body of the Bendy animatronic. He left it on the workbench the time to get some electric cables and a wrench. Something run in his spine, the boy feel a shiver. He turn his head and look at the animatronic. This grin smile is pretty scary in this angle. Like a devil who love freak you and run after you. Lacie has never loved animatronics and any robot character because of some child show where the animatronics was creepy as well. It’s like the old puppet made of wood with their hollow eyes. Freaky as well. Lacie take the wrench and cables and return to the workbench. Suddenly, the familiar voice of Joey Drew give him a heart attack. The wrench fall on the floor and Joey picks it up. Lacie take it and put the tool in a small toolbox.

“Thanks, Mr. Drew.

It wil be too bad if you lost your tools for build all this dream.

Yeah, yeah, too bad. Fair point.

I know you’re not really talkative and pretty taciturn but I love know how doing my employees. It’s important for all of us!

I’m fine, thanks Mr. Drew. But for now, I’m working so I need to be alone.

I heard that you are sick. I guess something wrong because of your hairs. So I ask Bertie and he told me that you have a skin ulcer. You know, the health of my employee is important. I want that you all work in a good mood and comfort! So, I’ll see with Grant and we can paid a doctor for this little sickness. It will count in the park finance. Like this, you and Bertie can got the museum and all the fancy stuff that you want in and you, little boy, you are treated. What do you think?

Mr. Piedmont has really talk about that?

Yeah. He was worried. People die when they doesn’t treat a sickness.

He lie. Bertrum never talk about Lacie’s life and not to Joey Drew. Especially Joey Drew.

It’s not mortal. I will finish my work before diying but I need to be alone. I’m sorry but if you can come back later, it will be a pleasure.

Right, right. Tomorrow, for the lunch?

Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow.”

All the day seems identical. Lacie understand now Bertrum about Joey Drew. In a moment of big anger, the boy write on the wall The creator lied to us. Before he can damage the animatronic, Grant come in the workshop. Lacie put down the wrench and look at the man. He looks like worst than the previous days. Seems some hairs missing on his head and it's no longer dark circles under his eyes but big black pit. His hands are shaking. A little but enough for being visible when you look at his hands.

“Mr. Benton I... I’m here for uh... talk about some mechanic stuff that you made.”

The poor man has some difficulties for talk and he’s being more and more messy. But when he sees what is written on the wall, it’s stop his shaking. He open wide his eyes. Lacie snap his fingers for get back the mind of Grant.

“What’s the problem with my work?

Listen. Mr. Drew doesn’t know that I’m here. I wanted to talk to you and Mr. Piedmont about Bendyland. Doing this project will ruin the studio. We can’t afford it. Mr. Stein will probably left us in a few day so we need to found new animator and, of course, some of the reels can’t be released because they are unfinished. I think that nobody can do the work of Mr. Stein as well that he mades it.

Mr. Stein?

Henry Stein, the brother of Joey Drew. Both together build this place. Now Joey is the director and Henry the animator.

Mr. Drew never talked about has a brother...

They are not... on good terms. I can understand this because temper of Mr. Drew is...

I understand that. And about my work?

Get out of this place. Leave the work here. I will help you!”

Lacie is surprised when he see tears on Grant’s face. Overstress. Like many of people here. But being the Accounting & Finance director for Joey Drew seems the worst job. He can just support all the crazy ideas of his boss and need to calculate every expenses. And Joey Drew is pretty spendthrift man. It was like a cry come from the heart. Lacie look at the animatronic. He feel like he can see everything with this black circle-pie eye finished. Like a camera for Joey, like this he can see everything and hear every words. Lacie has to admit that he doesn’t feel good here. Working for Joey Drew is not a dream.

“Mr. Drew won’t leave us doing what we want, you know?

That’s right. Oh! I have an idea. You can stole some stuff of the Gent guy and wreck some machine here. Maybe the elevator.

It’s more a personnal revenge than a plan for get out of here.

Maybe.

I will do that if you help me and Mr. Piedmont.

An eye for an eye. Right.”

And then, Lacie go to do the first part of this plan. He reach the elevator and break down some piece for that people who take it get trouble with. Lacie run into a cupboard when a Gent worker come. He takes the stairs while muttering unintelligible words. Seems this guy too not feel good to work for Joey Drew. The boy get out of the cupboard and return to his workshop. But here, Joey Drew himself is waiting, looking at the words on the wall. Lacie stop and wanted to get out when Joey turn and look at him with a creepy eyes and grin smile. The same creepy smile than the smile of Bendy.

“I can explain!

I listen. What is this?

I... I don’t know. It was here when I come back to the workbench, one day.

The creator lied to us but it’s you! You lying to me! And I hate liars!

N-No! Please...

You know what I do with a liar?

I’m not a liar!

I will show you something. Come here.”

He taked some of the cables and walk on Lacie, always with this grin creepy smile and a light of madness in the eyes.

Few days later, Lacie is missing. But like all the missing, nobody care about it, like nothing happens. Bertrum and Grant are the only ones who ask for Lacie. And then, they disappear to. When Joey Drew close his desk, he look at the wall and said for himself. “A portrait for the great Bertrum. What a silly idea. But the carousel is a pretty good idea. You will get the carousel, Bertie. You will got it.”

[raenday]

It's a start

“Ok, angle it a little more to the right. No my right you imbecile! Okay a little up. Stop! Right there is perfect, you can come down now Trimmer,” Wilford watched as the young ego made his way down the wobbly ladder. He shook his head, pinchcing the bridge of his nose as Bim almost fell when he missed the first step. Of course he didn’t do anything to help, Bim should be able to take care of himself. “Be careful!” He scoulded. “If you knock those lights outta place we have to reset them again!” And by “we” he meant Bim. Bim’s face went red as a tomato. He was the one who messed up the lights in the first place. Ever since they all came together, Warfstache has, as he said, taken Bim “under his wing” in order to teach him the ways of show business. However the last few weeks have made him feel more like a janitor. All Wil ever has him do is clean off the set, run errands for him, and do his laundry. Which by the way, takes forever when it’s covered in the blood of the person you were interviewing. Regardless of all of that, Bim never said a word. There was nothing he could really do against him anyways. Bim was a long forgotten ego, he didn’t have the power to rebel. And if he did, what would that bring him? A knife in his side, that’s what. And he didn’t feel like becoming another member of Wilford Warfstache’s hit list, as he’s chosen to refer to it as. Bim began taking the ladder away, but he stopped and watched Wilford look through a clipboard, running his fingers through his hair as he did. Bim could tell he was frustrated. Wil may be born for the spotlight, but even he can start to feel the stress of show biz. Bim thought for a second, contemplating what he was about to attempt. He leaned the ladder against a nearby wall and walked over to his “partner.” “Stressed out a bit?” He hesitated to say. Wilford didn’t pay much mind to him. “Everything has it’s ups and downs Trimmer. Especially journalism,” He responded still looking through his clipboard. Bim anxiously rubbed his hands together, trying to stop them from shaking. “Yeah I… Hey Wil?” He raises his voice a bit, trying to get the other’s attention. Wilford glanced up slightly, his head still angled down towards his work. Wil kept his eyes locked on Bim, showing he had his attention. “Um… Well you know I do have experience in front of a camera. And I know you’ve been doing a lot of shows since we got this new studio, so I was basically… I mean if you need the break,” “I’m gonna stop you right there Trimmer,” Wilford said, raising a hand in his face. “The people want to see this beaut in front of the camera. This is my show, and you should be grateful I’m even letting you help, got it!” He spat harshly. Bim was staring to regret even opening his mouth. “Unless I’m dead, you’re going to stick with what you’ve been doing. Undarstood!?” He questioned with a threatening glare. Bim wanted to retaliate. It wasn’t fair that he should be treated this way, but he couldn’t stand up to Wil, so he just nodded and went back to what he was doing. As he was though, he heard Wilford mumble under his breath, “There’s a reason your show only had one episode,”

“So why t-tell m-me this?” The blue android glitched between his words, as he usually did. Bim was sitting in Google’s tech lab, explaining to him what just happened with Wilford. Part of him just needed to vent, but he also had an idea, and Google might be the only one to have to answers. “I just don’t understand Google,” Bim explained. “He can literally bend reality. One minute I’m here, the next I could be in some other plain of existence. He’s the only one of us that could actually stand against Dark if he really wanted to. Why is he so powerful?” He demanded. Bim never understood why some of Mark’s egos were so much stronger than the other. He hoped to gain a better understanding or at least an explanation. Google leaned back and closed his eyes, as if he was looking for an answer. Once he opened his eyes, there was a small flash of blue, but it quickly faded. “Each one of us has our own special attribute that makes us unique. When that attribute is discovered and later expanded upon, the ego becomes stronger and able to control the power that comes with it. In other words, we all have a type of power, if you will, that is hidden inside of us. But we all must discover it either on our own or with another’s help. Whether it be another ego or Markiplier himself,” Google explain, without stuttering once. Bim fell back in his chair, starring down at his hands in wonder. He had powers that he never knew about? Why didn’t anyone ever tell him? Did they not know, or did they just not want him to know? Regardless, he knew what he had to do. Bim stood up and quickly made his way back to his own quarters. “Thank you Google!” He yelled on the way out. The android just watched him exit, wondering if he had just lite a spark inside the ego. Bim stepped into his room and locked the door behind him. It had two doors to it and an empty door way that connected his huge dressing room/lounge to his bedroom. The other door was connected to the studio. Bim hurried to it and locked that door as well. He closed the blinds of all this windows and ran into his bedroom. He pulled out his laptop and typed ferociously on it till he found exactly what he was looking for; Wilford Warfstache’s blog. Bim smiled to himself. He watched ever video Wil had. Every interview, game segment, and even the little shorts he uploaded and observed how Wil did what he did. Bim was determined to learn what he could do, and who better to learn from then the famous Wilford Warfstache himself? It was about 2 am and Bim had finished another round of videos for about the third time. He was beginning to fall asleep sitting up, so he decided to get ready to go to sleep. But before he could, Bim remembered that Wil wanted him to change the batteries in the wireless body mics for tomorrow’s show. He groaned as he pushed aside his laptop and made his way to the studio. As tired as he was, Bim didn’t feel like pissing off Wil any more today. It didn’t take long for him to change the batteries. He only had to do one for each person along with one extra for each, in case it goes out. As he walked back to his room, Bim kicked something metal, causing it to rattle on the ground. He bent down and picked it up. Curious, he examined it. A screw? Why was there… Bim’s eyes went wide as he looked up. He starred at the shakey light above him and in the blink of an eye, it disconnected from the railing above and plummeted straight for him. Bim covered his head with his arms bracing himself for the impact, but it never came. Confused, he looked up and was left speechless. The light was floating just above his head. Bim took a moment and just stared. He slowly brought his hand down and the light seemed to follow his movements. With shaking fingers, he took a hold of the broken light and as both palms were pressed against it, a beam of slightly blue tinted light shined out, illuminating the room. Bim looked down at the light and smiled at his newmy discovered power. It wasn’t much. Not enough to go toe to toe with Wilford, but it was something. It was a start.

[curewhimsy]

About that New Project (UPDATED)

EDIT: I updated and I added MORE CHARACTERS (something felt imbalanced still and I couldn’t stop lol) and I actually did general descriptions for all of them... They’re not extensive and may change, however.

———

The thing I was talking about in my Soune Taya post...

The Mega Project?

Well... it was going to be a visual novel concept.

But since I have no skill in making a VN, I’m just going to write a story. Like the anime that will be based off the VN. Like Clannad’s anime or something.

It’s going to be long since I have (ahem) FOURTY-SIX (46) WHOLE CHARACTERS WITH ROUTES THAT I’M GOING TO INCORPORATE.

This is why I said I will never ever finish it, even if I devote my entire life to it.

But it won’t feel right without all these characters. I WANT to have all these characters. I’m a “go big or go home” person. I’m too ambitious and I know that.

So.

Here are the characters.

Haku, Neru, Miku, Luka, Teto, Gumi, Meiko, Lapis, Merli, Lily, IA, Yukari, Uta, Zatsune, Rin, Len, Kaito, Akaito, Dell, Gakupo, Yuuma, Piko, Mizuki, Nigaito, Dex, Daina, Ruby, Taya, Longya, Ling, Momo, SeeU, Ruko, Ritsu, Miki, Aku, Bruno, Clara, Iroha, Yuu, Wil, Kyo, Akari, Qingxian, Anon, Kanon In the story adaption, Uta Utane (Defoko) will take the role as the player/main character, and learns everyone’s backstories. She will be the one with the (gigantic) “harem” around her. Think, Tomoya from Clannad. But IF there’s ever an actual game, I’ll plan on Uta being one of the date-able characters. She’ll be your childhood friend.

The characters are all college students here. They are all college-age, roughly between 18-26, depending on which character. I may give them specific ages eventually.

Here are descriptions I thought of already. For some of these Loids, this is my first time EVER writing or portraying them. Ever.

(Full names are listed in Western order. This is partly due to the story taking place in the USA, in a “Japantown” sort of place to explain the prominent Japanese population.)

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Haku Yowane- A shy, gloomy girl who is looking to join in the school’s choir... However, the choir doesn’t have enough members. And it’s not like Haku is a good enough singer to singlehandedly bring it back to life... or confident to work up the courage to even audition. Haku seems to depend on Neru, her only friend, to comfort her when she gets down. Haku is the cousin of the popular Miku Hatsune, the most popular girl in the school and star singer in the choir. Neru Akita- A tomboy with a hot temper. But inside, she hides delicate feelings. She seems to always be with Haku, cheering her up when she gets down. The two seem to only have each other. Miku Hatsune- A very popular girl and star singer in the choir. A bubbly, cheerful sweetheart. Has lots of friends and is always smiling. Idealistic and doesn’t believe in impossible. Miku dreams big, but apparently she gets very depressed when her dreams are crushed. Luckily that never seems to happen... for now. Luka Megurine- A polite and elegant woman. She can appear aloof and intimidating at first, but is actually just shy. She is half Japanese, a quarter French, and a quarter German. Teto Kasane- A bubbly girl who can be childish. Is playful, weird, and a bit demanding. Very clumsy. Gumi- A girl who can be a bit shy, but once you get past that, Gumi is unique, free-spirited, and chill. She likes art and reading books. She keeps a sketchbook with her at all times. Meiko Sakine- The confident, mature woman of the group. Energetic and loves to party. Still responsible. Like a mother or older sister. Has quite a temper, though she mostly uses it to defend others... Lapis Aoki- Merli’s stepsister, who seems to be the opposite of her. Bubbly and playful, and quite childish. Quite friendly. However, she can be a bit selfish at times. Lapis is Japanese, though her adoptive sister Merli is Indian. Merli Aoki- Lapis’ stepsister, who seems to be the opposite of her. She can seem cold and distant, even a bit harsh at first. But inside, she is very thoughtful and willing to help those important to her. Merli is Indian, though she was adopted into Lapis’ Japanese family after the death of her parents. Lily- The school’s toughest female delinquent. IA- An idolized girl in the school for her good looks and singing skills. However, she hides dark feelings? Yukari Yuzuki- Half sister to Akari Kizuna. Looks up to IA but also feels she will never be as good as her. Uta Utane- A rather plain, bluntly-spoken person who doesn’t see much in life. Usually bored, silent, and rather deadpan. Once a bright girl with lots of dreams. Deep inside, she is passionate and caring, really... Can it be restored? She is non-binary, going mostly by she/her. Miku Zatsune- Edgy and hates Miku. She would rather be called Zatsune, because her first name happens to be Miku, like the person she despises so much... But could there be something deeper to her? Rin Kagamine- Rin is a bit chaotic. She is bold, brash, athletic, and charming. She is also just plain nuts. Len Kagamine- Len fries to be cool and hip, but he is just a big dork. He is quite the comedian however, sometimes unintentionally. Kaito Shion- Kaito is a silly boy. He loves ice cream, unicorns, rainbows, and anything fluffy. But he also has moments of seriousness where he says really deep, philosophical things. He is quite romantic. Akaito Shion- Akaito is a sarcastic and grumpy boy, but when it comes to romance, he gets quite passionate. He sometimes flirts around with girls, but when he finally finds a true love with a girl (or guy) who truly changes his life... well... it’s a bit different. Dell Honne- Dell is usually in a bad mood. He currently lives with a father who barely acknowledges him. He tends to keep it all inside, and he’s really just lonely and needs to find someone to vent to. He enjoys computer programming and composing electronic music. He is Haku’s half-brother, but they didn’t grow up together. Gakupo Kamui- Gakupo likes doing kendo and martial arts, and is generally athletic. He is a nice guy who also loves animals and history. He seems serious, but can be unexpectedly silly sometimes. He likes embracing his Japanese and Ainu heritage. Yuuma- Yuuma likes music and is quite popular. He may seem hard to approach, because sometimes he doesn’t know what to say. He is a little blunt at times, but has a good heart. He has a crush on Mizuki. Piko Utatane- Piko is a genius who loves astronomy and excels in mathematics and physics. He is a shy and compassionate person, but whenever he opens his mouth, he sounds very strict. He is bad at socializing and making friends, which leaves him quite lonely. On top of that, he is sickly and absent from school often. Piko wishes to make a friend. His first friend in the school is Lapis Aoki, who pretends to be a fairy to grant his wish. After a while, Lapis declares that she wants to be Piko’s friend. Mizuki- Mizuki is a singer who also plays the a Japanese harp (koto.) She is quite a charming person and seems to flirt with many people... even girls... but not Yuuma. Since Yuuma has a crush on Mizuki, this discourages him. Nigaito Shion- The youngest of the three Shion bothers. Nigaito’s nicknames are Nini and Nii. He is rather sickly, but remains to have a warm and pure heart. Dex- Daina’s childhood friend. Best friends, even though they are of completely different genders, and with very different personalities. Some people wonder how it works. Dex is silly, fun, a bit of a party animal, but he is still very caring and compassionate. He just needs a bit of help devoting himself to his studies. But he is quite intelligent when he is focused. He is Black, Creole, and is learning French. Daina- Dex’s childhood friend. Best friends, even though they are of completely different genders, and with very different personalities. Some people wonder how it works. Daina likes to study and learn, and doesn’t like atmospheres like parties so much. She prefers quiet, peaceful places. She may seem a bit distant on the outside, but she is just a little shy. She is White, with English and French heritage. Ruby- Ruby is rather confident, yet nice, and will always give people a helping hand. She is Black and Latina. Taya Soune- Taya is incredibly polite, bowing at many occasions and also offering to do favors a lot. He speaks very formally. He is non-binary, but go mostly by he/him. Longya Yuezheng- A quite serious man who is dutiful and studious. Protective over his younger sister, Ling, and monitors her safety constantly. This is due to Ling nearly getting into a tragic accident when they were younger, traumatizing Longya. He is Chinese. Ling Yuezheng- Ling is a hardworking student, however she has a playful side and she feels lonely that she doesn’t have many friends and is devoting her life to studying. Momo Momone- A peaceful, sleepy girl. Rather low-energy and tranquil. However, Momo has quite a temper when it comes to injustice. SeeU- A rather eccentric, bold and energetic girl with “the light of the stars in her eyes.” She is Korean. Ruko Yokune- Ruko is one of the most mature characters, having a lot of wisdom about life and many experiences. However, they still have moments where they need a helping hand. Ruko is non-binary, mostly going by she/her or they/them. Ritsu Namine- Ritsu is rather brash, but means well. He is non-binary and mostly go by he/him. Miki- Loves romance anime/manga and is obsessed with “cute couples.” A true fangirl. Acts cute and animated. Iroha’s best friend. Aku Yamine- Hates her name, because it’s pronounced the same as the word for “evil” in Japanese. Prefers to be called Akurin. Aku is a very nice and naive, somewhat clumsy girl with big dreams. Is half Black and half Japanese. Bruno- Black Latino, lived in the Dominican Republic. Polite and soft-spoken, but a talented guitarist. Clara- From Colombia, and is Latina. A rather doting girl who somehow feels like both a mother and a little sister. Iroha Nekomura- Loves cute things and stuffed animals. Is kind of insecure and doesn’t find herself very cute, though her best friend Miki constantly reassures her. Yuu- A sweet, cheerful guy who is always filled with energy. Half English, half Japanese. He is in a band with Wil and Kyo called ZOLA PROJECT. Wil- A sophisticated, fashionable guy who is quite outgoing. He is Black. He is in a band with Yuu and Kyo called ZOLA PROJECT. Kyo- A wild, energetic guy who is always raring to go. He is Japanese. He is in a band with Yuu and Wil called ZOLA PROJECT. Akari Kizuna- Yukari Yuzuki’s half-sister. Cheerful and sweet, and wants to make others smile... even though many heavy thoughts are hiding behind her own smile. Qingxian Mo- She seems very nice, but she’s actually a bit self-absorbed. Since her name is hard to pronounce for English-speakers, she insists on being called Qing (pronounced like Ching.)

Anon- (Coming soon)

Kanon- (Coming soon)