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#but it has less to do with disconnection on my part and instead more to do with festering disconnection on their part
spacelazarwolf · 9 hours
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here is the reality. whether you like it or not, a large chunk of the global jewish population identifies as zionist, as in they believe that israel should exist in some capacity (regardless of their feelings about the current government). a lot of numbers have been thrown around that i don’t necessarily think are accurate, but it is very safe to say that particularly those who are involved in jewish community organizations and/or are more observant tend to identify as zionist. there are a lot of reasons for this that would take an entire doctoral dissertation to cover. if i wanted to cut myself off from every single jewish zionist or every single jew or jewish organization that believes israel should exist or simply has even one jewish zionist friend or one jewish zionist in attendance, i would have to completely isolate myself from the jewish community, and i am simply not going to do that.
for shavuot, we stayed up until past 3am having difficult conversations about israel and zionism and other rifts in the jewish community and how to talk about them without the inevitable defensiveness that always comes up, how to disconnect the political aspects of zionism from jewish identity and how to have difficult conversations with people who disagree with us without leaving the table. we talked about it through the lens of a story in the talmud about rabbi yohanan and reish lakish, a story that ends in tragedy, a story that is representative of where the community is headed if we aren’t able to start having these conversations.
so when gentiles show up and demand i abandon my community because it’s sinful politically incorrect to associate with sinners people with slightly different political opinions, it pisses me the fuck off. because y’all are constantly going on and on abt jews needing to “unlearn zionism” but then when non zionist jews refuse to just walk away from our people and decide instead to do the difficult work of starting and maintaining important conversations within our community, we get called zionists or accused of “associating with zionists” and therefore zionist by default.
so what do you want? do you want there to be less jewish zionists? because the only way that’s going to happen is if difficult conversations are allowed to happen, and those difficult conversations won’t be able to happen if you insist that all jews who aren’t zionist refuse to associate with the vast majority of our people. or are you simply looking to isolate jews with different political opinions than you because you don’t want to take the time to understand why so many jews identify as zionist. i know because i have had hours upon hours of conversations with the people in my community, and my understanding of their reasoning and motivation has made it easier to have conversations about zionism.
so it’s fucked because. y’all want there to be less jewish zionists. the only way for that to happen is to talk to them and understand them. but associating with them or trying to understand why they identify that way makes you a zionist. and therefore you should also not be associated with. but there should be less jewish zionists. so it sounds to me like y’all are just expecting people to change their minds because. what? because you said so? that is not realistic in the slightest!
anyway this post is not meticulously crafted it’s literally just me venting abt this shit but i’m just sick and tired of goyim who are not part of these difficult conversations deciding that they know better how to deal with jewish zionists (who they will not associate with) than jewish non zionists who are actually trying to have the difficult conversations with their community.
#ip
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I know multiple of these are likely important to people, but I'm asking in terms of like - which of these do you tend to focus on the MOST, enjoy the most, that is most essential for you to actually care about the media, etc.?
(For example: someone finding "Relatability" most important would likely not enjoy a show much if they have trouble empathizing with the characters/relating to it, even if it were good otherwise. Or, someone might be able to overlook bad acting and ugly costumes, as long as the Character Dynamics are fun to them, because they value that more than Aesthetics- while for others, bad costumes would be a dealbreaker.)
Also feel free to reblog and explain your answer or more information in the tags- I've always been curious about people's relationships to media, how they conceptualize it/what they get out of it, how some people value some parts more than others, how that informs their overall taste and genres they may be more inclined towards, etc. :0c
#I was having a conversation with a friend about our favorite type of media and they said the reason they DON'T like historical or fantasy#media or etc. is because they can't imagine themselves being in those situations like it's too detached from anything that they can relate#to personally. they put themselves in the shoes of the characters and apparently like feel emotions while watching stuff and actually#get into the way the characters are feeling so they kind of judge how 'good' or 'bad' a show's writing/setting/etc. are by how it makes#them feel and if they think the characters reacted realistically based on what they were feeling in the moment/what in their head they#would be feeling if they were in the postion of the character. SO apparently the distance of it being in an unrelatable setting or too#detached from our reality makes it harder for them to relate to and less able to really engage with it on that level. WHEREAS I watch#things exclusively in a very like.. detached way?? I'm INTERESTED.. it's like im intellectually analyzing everyhting that's happening and#can be intrigued by events but it's not in an emotional way? More of like a distant 'intellectual curiosity'. Maybe the premise or the#aesthetics or something about it has piqued an interest for me to observe it. to see what it's like or how it plays out. how the idea#is executed or etc. But like.. I cannot remember EVER really relating to any character or situation or projecting onto a character#or having those sorts of feelings or investment in it. That is just not a central part of why/how I watch things or what I care about#BUT after this I was thinking maybe this is my disconnect? I do not seem to conceptualize media the way some other people do and I often#walk away with an entirely different take on things. etc. So I wonder if maybe it's part of how everyone values different things probably?#maybe I literally just watch stuff and percieve it from a different frame of mind that others. More of a like detached curiosity#vaguely bemused analysis mode. Instead of a 'I am deeply emotionally invested in this and am feeling for all the characters' mode#And also I bet people who care more about plot/story are also the people who mind spoilers. Whereas for me I literally seek out spoilers#intentionally because that element of 'suprise ooh what will happen next!' is not central at all to my enjoyment. I could know literally#everything that will happen and still can find it interesting to observe - since for me#that's not the point. I'd rather know the ending so I can determine whether I want to invest the time in it in the first place. etc.#ANYWAY!! If I had to choose - I would say I'm usually heavily focused on world details and aesthetics. With only a slight preference#towards characters individually being interesting. Group dynamics can sometimes be okay but I get tired of everything being about relations#hips and romance - especially when sometimes it seems to be like. people who could not stand on their own as a character/are fundamentally#boring otherwise lol. I would watch a series of just one guy locked in a closet talking to himself as long as he was interesting and saying#things that were amusing or notable for some reason lol. I actually tend to dislike plot because most 'plot heavy' things like action focus#ed shows ALWAYS feel to me like they're moving so fast just to get from one thing to another that I'm not getting enough details. Part of#why I tend to not like movies. the time limit makes them too quick. I need a 95 hour expostion dump of the history of the entire world#and a series of 17 episodes straight where a guy is trapped in a room & the audience is just psychoanalyzing him. hghj.. Maybe I find all#characters annoying/unrelatable bc people w my personality type make bad characters/are not often represented (or are done BADLY). so then#I'm just picking 'who is the LEAST insufferable? who could i study like a lab rat?' whilst my main focus is the worldbuilding&costumes lol
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kii2me2ii2 · 1 year
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omori's inclinations towards self isolation is so realistic and similar to my own it's almost disturbing and very nearly triggering... very. nearly.
#not really a vent jus. hm.#its not surprising or anything. omoris a good game. its been praised for how it deals with and portrays this stuff.#im watching the sleepy crest black space ii vid#my shut in life will turn into a rock /lyrref#thinking about it is a little difficult. its hard to without becoming. consumed.. with desires i know. can be destructive#that said are but i changed it to 'can be'. so i can have plausible deniability when i relapse into madd&shut in and pretend its ok ^^#because i know its not good to anticipate failure or relapse or whatever. but its like. that desire feels so base level for me.#its the safest i feel and relapse is inevitable and.... welcomed. almost. it cant last because i have people whod be hurt by it.#so welcoming it doesnt feel dangerous. i have people with me that i have a duty not to shut out. (i can wait until they leave me just fine)#but i like making friends. so i know realistically its somewhat unlikely ill ever feel like i dont have a 'duty' not to shut in for others.#and my family actually like..... has a substantial relationship with me now. but i think my dissociation can take care of that problem#rather easily. ive always planned the potential for them. not my friends though. so i cant shut in yet ^^#though i do technically..... have a plan if even they become too unbearable as well. that goes back.. years at this point#but it has less to do with disconnection on my part and instead more to do with festering disconnection on their part#i know whats good for them i know whats good for me and thats hikikomori ^^#haha i jus said that cus it rhymed lol ignore me#does the post above even hold up at this point.#well. i think so. i dont think the game itself is triggering. i think im digging this well myself. and its not like ill be stuck here#i dont feel as though i am going to be consumed either. i think im just making noise. for the post. and to talk about this experience#since its something i struggle with quite a bit. but i dont tell my friends or stuff about it. because that feels..... mean. almost#like. oh ya by the way i fantasize a lot about you leaving my life. ya you should feel bad for me or something. idfk#really. really. the only feeling i have thinking about this shut in life is...... almost warmth. i think.#i dont think i could ever see the idea completely negatively. ive lived in a haze of drugs daydreams secrets and self isolation before.#its just. safe. it doesnt matter how the days blend together. your brain crowded and constantly foggy with dissociation.#youre somewhere else. somewhere where these things dont matter... those things help you get there. theyre tools of equivalent exchange#give your life up and you can create a new one. that idea had always permeated through my life in a manner of styles#but this is probably the most.... sensical and safe manifestation of that idea ^^#anyways. i like chatting about this stuff with people who relate#so hmu i guess.#vent in tags
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heartsforhavik · 6 months
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yandere kung lao I’m begginf,,,,
self aware! yandere kung lao x reader pt.1
warnings: mk1 story mode spoilers, obsessiveness, gender neutral reader, ooc kung lao, self aware kung lao
summary: kung lao is aware he is in a video game, and he just loves you so much. he just wishes he didn’t have to be behind a screen.
a/n: anon im so sorry it took me a bit to get to this, anyways i decided to mix it up and make kung lao self aware bc i thought my yandere hcs were getting too repetitive and i am also a diehard SAGAU fan. (also sorry for my mini break, finals week is crazy man.)
part 2
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- kung lao *hated* being stuck behind a screen. behind a stupid wall. away from you.
- you were just a regular mortal kombat fan. when mortal kombat 1 was announced, you were just so excited to get your hands on the game.
- you watched playthroughs before you could buy the game, and you were so happy when you found out that you could play as kung lao in the first chapter of story mode.
- when you got your hands on the game, you noticed that every time he had a funny one-liner in the story mode, he would look at the camera and wink. that’s weird… he didn’t do that in the playthroughs you watched… but oh well, it’s probably nothing.
- in the final battle you even chose to play as kung lao out of all the fighters. he was surprisingly easy to use, and his moves seemed to hit even harder than usual and the fights would be over in a blink of an eye. maybe he was buffed just for the fights?
- and when you finished the story mode and checked out all the skins and rewards you got, you noticed that you somehow had all of kung lao’s stuff unlocked. all of his palettes, skins, brutalities, etc. everything. you owned all of it. even the ones that weren’t out yet.
- you thought it was just a glitch, so you shut your device down and restarted it. but when you opened it again, his stuff was still there.
- and it got even weirder. when you tried to practice, the game only let you use kung lao. for some reason, you couldn’t use any other fighter. you couldn’t even use any kameo other than kung lao.
- he was still your favorite character and all, but that was weird. you tried to exit out of the game and restart it again, but it wouldn’t shut down. the game stayed on. it was frozen on kung lao. and he seemed to just stare at you. as if he knew you were there.
- you were starting to get creeped out, so you completely powered off your device and decided to leave it disconnected overnight.
- but over that little period of time, even though it was only a few hours to you, it felt like an eternity for kung lao.
- he felt hurt. a bit betrayed, even. did you not like him anymore? was he not enough for you? he gave you everything he could. he did everything he could to show his love for you, since he cannot communicate any other way.
- without you playing the game, he felt nothing. he couldn’t feel your warmth. it was nothing but a cold, dark space. he needed you. he needed you to always be with him. even if he couldn’t communicate with you, he’d figure something out.
- that’s why he was changing the coding of the game. he had to always be on your screen, or at least give you hints that he was self aware. he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you weren’t looking at him. if you weren’t using him all the time.
- what do you mean you want to main johnny cage? or raiden? or even syzoth? what do they have that kung lao doesn’t?
- you liked the powerful fighters? no worries, he can just nerf everyone else and completely manipulate the coding of the game so he has the best damage.
- you thought the other fighters were more attractive than him? he’ll change the game so their designs were ruined and less pleasing to your eye.
- he would mend himself to your liking. he just needed you to use him. please make him feel important and useful. make him feel worthy of being your main. your favorite.
- if anyone became your favorite instead of him, he would go ballistic. he would rethink his entire existence. he’s so strong, and funny, and easy to use. so why would you choose anyone else? what’s wrong with him? is he not enough for you?
- if kung lao found out you wanted to start using a different fighter, he would erase them from the game. they would be nowhere to be found. their image in the game would be warped into a bunch of blurry pixels.
- if he has to erase the entire kast of fighters, he will. he needs your love. he needs your attention. if he isn’t your favorite, then what is the point of his existence in the game?
- kung lao needs you. and you need him too. why can’t you see that? he’s done everything he could to gain your approval. he was already so great, but he changed himself for you. accept him. please.
- the last thing he would resort to is bringing you in the game with him. what better way to stay by your side, than force you into the world of mortal kombat?
- at first, he didn’t exactly like the thought of taking away your freedom, but the more he thought about it the more he craved your company. why stay behind your screen when he can just bring you with him? now, you don’t have to turn your device on and off! he’s not going anywhere. and you aren’t either.
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A Mutually Beneficial Agreement (M) ~Bang Chan | [1/3]
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Pairing: Demon!Chan x F.Reader Themes: Supernatural AU | Smut | Established Relationship (kind of) Word Count: ~3k | AO3 Synopsis: How ironic... to have found yourself entangled with a demon called Christopher, of all things. Some people would’ve made you believe he was taking advantage of you. But you knew better. [Find part 2 here]. Warnings: pet names · there seems to be specks of plot in my corn (pwp) · Chris has horns and a tail (feels like that deserves a warning on its own) · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).
Author’s Note: finally sat down to finish this idea i had ages ago. i’ve been in a bit of a slump lately, so this was certainly a nice warm-up. this is all just filth, and i dedicate it to my fellow monster lovers. especial thanks to @notastraykid & @kisskissbanggang for reading this one and sharing their valuable thoughts with me. it means the world to me💜
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Part 2 >
Smut Warnings: literal monster cock · praising · smidge of degradation · unprotected penetration [piv & anal] (the reader is presumed to be on birth control) · the tail goes in places it probably shouldn’t go into · double penetration · minimal nipple action.
Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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“You’re so warm, sweetheart…” Chris mumbled against your cheek, all while he held your jaw in place with his hand.
“So warm and soft…”
With his chest partially against your back, one of your legs over his hip, keeping your legs as spread open as much as this position allowed, Chris kept each thrust controlled, and his rhythm steady.
“So… mortal…”
The feeling of his cock splitting you open repeatedly had your mind disconnected from anything that wasn’t him and you on this bed, and it wasn’t like you wanted it to be any other way.
You weren’t really sure how long you’d been here, much less how many times either of you had reached that perfect peak. Your thoughts were just muddied images, the only thing you could see clearly was Chris.
Chris, and his charming smile, and his ageless eyes, and the horns on his head, and his perfect nose… 
The weight of his arm on your chest and the tight hold on your jaw felt heavenly, just like his length within your walls did. 
“Mortal, but incredibly talented… Perfectly capable of… taking me, of giving me everything. Hm?”
His voice was but a whisper against your cheek. There was no way you wouldn’t have been able to hear him when he was this close, when you both were one and the same with how intertwined you were, when every single one of your senses were solely focused on him…
It wasn’t just his length or what he was saying that had your mind hazy. It was also the pants and groans and grunts he let out, all the kisses he pressed on the side of your face, and the feeling of his thick tail wrapped around your waist.
Chris had a way with words, and whenever he talked like this to you, whenever he let out his thoughts completely unfiltered while you had sex, you couldn’t help but feel tingly all over. Aroused, warmer, wetter…
“Can’t talk, darling?” Chris mumbled, each word made his lips brush against the skin of your cheek. He pressed a lingering kiss on your skin, keeping the pace of his hips just as steady as he had this entire time, unfaltering, somewhat slow, but precise.
You opened your mouth to speak, to confirm what he’d said much earlier. That yes, yes you were more than capable of taking anything he wanted to give you, that you could talk. But, honestly, you couldn’t really confirm that, not when what came out of your mouth instead was a moan.
He chuckled, clearly amused. So amused he quickened his pace, further clouding your reason. Just his mere presence set your insides alight, that, added to his motions, to his words, was just so incredibly dangerous. He had your mind going all fuzzy, drunk on his aura and the feel of him. 
A priest would tell you this was all a curse, that the demon laying here with you was manipulating you for his own gain, enhancing your lust and sins so he could ultimately devour you whole for his own pleasure.
But you knew better.
There was no way you wouldn’t have known better, when this arrangement had been going for so long. Chris had always made it very clear that he’d never used any spell or mind control to make you do the things you did, his presence simply enhanced what was already there. 
And you believed him.
‘Sinful little human, aren’t you?’ You could still remember the first time he told you that, back when you found him by a tree in the town’s cemetery. 
You’d given in to him so easily… And, honestly? You had no regrets. Zero regrets.
Especially when he was fucking you this good, when he fucked you this good several nights a week.
‘All these endorphin rushes keep us healthy, hm?’ Chris said sometimes, and you couldn’t help but agree. Sometimes you were groggy and achy the next day, but you were certainly satisfied, even happy… What an odd emotion to feel thanks to a demon.
“Have you gone dumb already?” Chris chuckled. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but you nodded anyway. Because it was true, you couldn’t even speak at this point. “Aww, pretty little human has gone dumb on my cock, poor thing…”
There was something about his condescending tone that made pleasure pool in the pit of your stomach, that made your lower belly tighten further. Needy, needy, needy, needy… You could almost hear his voice in your mind, and you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it truly was him speaking to you. It wouldn’t have been the first time his thoughts slipped into yours while you both got lost in each other.
Chris’ hand loosened its grip on your face, while his tail unravelled from around your waist. His fingers ghosted all the way down your torso, between your breasts, over your belly, until they reached that borderline overstimulated nub between your legs. You couldn’t help but mewl, a sound that was almost pathetic to your ears. Not only because of his motions on your clit, but also because his tail had made its way up your body, until it found one of your nipples to rub it gently with its tapered tip.
It was so much. He was so much. And, somehow, you still couldn’t get enough.
“C’mon, pretty thing”, Chris was panting, diligently stimulating those pleasure points of your body in just the exact way you needed him to, in that way you’d shown him how to all those months ago. “Aren’t you gonna bless me with another? I need it, darling. And I know you need it, too”.
His pace picked up, until he was almost brutally ramming into you, stretching you open to your very limits, stimulating your insides in ways only the bumps and ridges of his very supernatural cock could. You were certainly close, and you knew that it wouldn’t take long for you to finally come undone under his enticing motions.
You could barely register the sound of his name coming out of your mouth, not only because of how quiet you’d said it, but also because your mind was going completely numb, hazy as you drew closer and closer to that ledge. With the rough pad of his fingers, with the texture of the tip of his tail, Chris worked you up, and, just like you’d predicted, in a matter of minutes, you fell face first into that pool of burning ecstasy that Chris himself had prepared for you.
The feeling raked throughout your body, extending from your core to every single one of your limbs. You couldn’t tell if you were moaning, or crying, or saying his name. You couldn’t tell what was going on outside of the feeling of Chris’ skin on your own, of his breath against your cheek.
“That’s it, baby. I love it when you tremble for me. You’re so good, doing so well…” Chris whispered the words in your ear. You could barely hear them over the sound of your own heart beating within them.
Gasping for air, you released Chris’ tail from your grip. You honestly hadn’t even realised you’d grabbed it in your orgasm-induced frenzy. The tip of it had finally stopped stimulating your nipples. Instead, it found its way between your legs to replace his fingers on your clit, just to apply pressure on it to prolong the final waves of your climax while he used his now unoccupied hand to turn your head towards him so he could kiss you. 
His thrusts had stopped, his tongue, forked and slightly textured, was gentle when it moved against your own, and his thumb softly caressed your cheek as you were barely conscious enough to kiss him back. The taste of him was addictive, his throbbing length within your warmth made you dizzier, and it was at moments like these that you were reminded of why you always let him into your bed.
Because you just couldn’t get enough.
When you fully came down from your high, you figured he’d start ramming into you once again so he could reach his own relief. Instead, he removed his hand from your face and brought it to your lower abdomen, where it settled to caress the skin. 
“Say…” Chris mumbled, pressing a quick, brief peck on your lips before he pulled out of your walls.
The loss of contact almost made you whine, but when his hand left your lower abdomen, and you started feeling the slick tip of his cock against the sensitive skin of your ass, you looked at him through half lidded eyes, holding your breath in anticipation.
“Would you let me come in your perfect little hole, pet?” Chris’ tail moved away from your core to wrap around your thigh, squeezing the supple flesh as he continued to rub the head of his length over the ridged skin between your buttocks. 
You swallowed, licking your lips while you nodded. You didn’t trust your voice right now, you just knew you were almost trembling with excitement at the thought. It had only been a couple of days, but you certainly missed the stretch, just his fingers earlier in the evening hadn’t been enough.
“Say it”, Chris reached for the bottle of lube that had been discarded next to the pillows, like he was sure you were going to comply.
And he was right. You were going to comply, you wanted to, needed to…
“Please…” Your voice was hoarse, low, tired after all the involuntary noises that had been escaping your mouth, but you did say the one thing you knew he wanted you to. And as soon as you did, you heard his deep intake of breath.
His tail moved your thigh, closing your legs, and your body moved instinctively, laying fully on your side so Chris could press his chest completely against your back. With a hand on your buttock, you helped him keep yourself spread open, exposed so the lubed tip of his cock could start pushing against the ring of muscle between your cheeks.
Breathing deeply, you willed yourself to relax, and after a few moments, he finally breached past the initial resistance, slowly, but steadily filling your ass with his monstrous cock. Chris groaned behind you, nuzzling your shoulder. You just whined, already feeling yourself heating up with the feel of him going into your hole.
As soon as he bottomed out, his hand found its way to your lower belly, gripping your soft flesh tightly while his sharp teeth scraped the skin of your shoulder. A shiver ran up your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The feeling of fullness within you was absolutely mouth-watering, but, still, you wanted more.
Reaching for Chris’ tail on your thigh, you ran your fingers through the black snakeskin. The motion had him swearing under his breath, right next to your ear. The skin of his tail was smooth, sensitive, shining under the low lighting provided by the lamp in the corner of your room. The shimmer and iridescence was like nothing you’d ever seen before. Pretty… So, so pretty…
“Chris…” 
“…Hm?” 
“Move”.
Chris inhaled sharply behind you, tightening his grip on your belly, and finally started to move. Slowly at first, to ensure you felt every ridge, every bump of his length, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Oh, what a satisfying stretch…
When you dragged your nails over the texture on his tail, Chris groaned, and his pace picked up considerably. His tail unfurled, releasing your thigh for blood to rush back to the area–you honestly hadn’t even realised how tight he’d been holding onto you. The mild numbness didn’t prevent you from feeling its movement, though. 
Releasing your tummy to instead hook his hand under your knee, Chris pushed your leg towards your chest, giving his tail plenty room to find its way between your legs.
You could feel your legs tremble, your heart almost leaping out of your chest, and, in a poor attempt to ground yourself, you reached back, finding Chris’ soft strands. But, most importantly, finding one of his horns. 
The moment you held onto the keratin covering, Chris swore, borderline moaned under your tightening grip around the base of it. Before you knew it, the tip of his tail was at your entrance, teasing your opening while Chris kept brutally and repeatedly pushing himself into your ass. There was nothing you could coherently say or do. You knew what he wanted, what you wanted, but you just couldn’t speak.
However, you really didn’t need to say anything, as you mindlessly caressed the base of his horn, his tail had finally plunged itself right into your sopping cunt. Full, full, full, oh, so full of Chris… Just how you wanted to be, how he wanted it to be…
Warm, warm, warm, wet, tight… Chris didn’t say any of this, but you could hear him clear as day, even through the fog coating your thoughts. He was losing himself as well, and you could feel yourself gush around his tail with how aroused the thought made you, with how good he was fucking both of your holes.
“How are you… this soft and warm, hm? Warm little human. Lewd, sinful, aren’t you? Giving yourself to a demon so wholly…” Chris mumbled the words against the skin of your shoulder, broken between groans and whines of his own as you kept stroking the horn in your hand, as you kept squeezing him tight. 
You just nodded, incapable of telling him anything else. You could feel the flesh of your bum ripple with each collision of his hips, and it wasn’t long until his thrusts and the movement of his tail became an uncoordinated mess. He was close, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of it yourself.
With your fingers on your clit, you rubbed quick circles as best as you could in this position. Uncaring of the desperate moans coming out of your mouth, at your motions, at the stretch of his cock in your ass, and his tail within your walls, nudging your sweet spot. 
“Shit… Fuck, gonna–gonna blow, pretty thing”, Chris was panting, breathless after hours of indulging in you and your body, and you certainly weren’t doing any better. “Stuff you full of me… Want it, pet? Want that?”
You nodded, frantically rubbing your clit as you chased your relief, telling him that yes, yes you wanted it. You wanted anything he was willing to give you.
With a desperate plea of your name, Chris finally came. His tail stopped moving, but his thrusts didn’t, he kept fucking into you as he filled up your ass, whining once your own orgasm washed over you and you started to clamp hard around his appendages. Whines of your own escaped from between your lips, your grip on his horn tightened, eliciting more desperate pleas from the demon behind you.
After one final thrust, keeping his hips as flush as he could with your buttocks, Chris finally stilled. Your throat was dry after doing nothing but moaning and crying for a while, your chest rose and fell with your quick breaths, and you could feel Chris’ doing the same against your back.
When his tail left the comfort of your warmth, it snaked all the way up your body, until the tip pressed against your lips, which you eagerly opened to let it in.
As you swirled your tongue around the textured skin, you could taste yourself on it, something that didn’t displease you in the slightest. If you hadn’t just spent hours here, you were sure just the texture and the taste on your tongue would’ve been enough to heat you up all over again.
Chris pressed tired, lingering kisses on your shoulder, just as he pulled out of your ass. Slowly, his cum spilled out and onto the now more than ruined bedsheets, joining the mix of fluids that had ended up there throughout the evening.
When you finally let go of his horn, when his tail finally popped out of your mouth, you turned around, looking into those dark eyes of his that always made a shiver run up and down your spine. Chris just grinned, a wolfish grin that had you scoffing a small laugh and rolling your eyes.
Your limbs were achy, your eyes could barely stay open, but you still let him pull you into his arms when he stood up from the bed. The sheets behind you started moving on their own as he walked you to your bathroom, where he sat you down on the toilet so he could diligently clean you up. A shower just wouldn’t be possible right now, you could barely stand straight, so he just made do with a jug and a washcloth.
One wouldn’t think a demon would be this gentle, but Chris was probably the oddest demon you’d ever met. ‘If I’m gonna do something, I better do it right’, he often said, and as you came to find out, this was just an integral part of fucking you as the act itself.
When you were finally mostly dry, laying your head on his chest with the now clean bedding under you, you could feel your eyes droop, vaguely even registering the words coming out of Chris’ mouth.
“When you wake up tomorrow, I won’t be here. But, with a bit of luck, I’ll be back in a couple of nights”, he mumbled, quietly as he caressed your hair and your back.
You just hummed to let him know you’d heard him. Not like he needed to tell you that, since it was always like this. He’d appear, feed off of your lust, and disappear for a few nights. That was your arrangement. It wasn’t conventional, nor normal in any way, but it was what you had, and, for now, it was enough. It was just what you needed yourself.
A priest would certainly tell you this was all a curse, that the demon laying here with you, cuddling you, was manipulating you for his own gain. But what a priest wouldn’t have known at first glance, was that you had summoned this demon yourself. That the only reason you let him into your bed and feed off of you, was because, in a way, you fed off of him, too.
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writingsfromhome · 2 months
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Dos and Don’ts III
A/N: firstly apologies for the wait and secondly I absolutely did not want to cut this into another part but here we are 😢 I think this will change some ppls opinions oops dont hate me
Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4
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I couldn’t put my finger on it but something was off in my life; I felt disconnected from myself, my friends, and most importantly from Gray. But getting Gray to communicate when he didn’t want to could feel like pulling teeth. And I was no dentist.
I figured the solution was to stubbornly throw myself into work. After all, with Harry’s European tour starting March there was always a lot to do.
“Nice of you to get here so early,” Harry says as I step off the elevators just before 9–an hour later than I usually do.
“I had dry cleaning to pick up,” I ignore his sarcasm. “Your tour fits aren’t going to magically appear in the penthouse as nice as that would be for me.”
I keep my tone light, joking, but it’s passive just as he is. And he can’t call passive out.
That’s what working for Harry has been like since December. It was winter outside these walls and inside.
I had originally decided to let it all go after sitting with the party’s events that weekend but upon arriving to work Harry had been particular asshole-ish and I decided two could play at the game. It was like the holiday party never happened. And I was okay with that.
“If they did, I wouldn’t need you would I?” Harry takes on the same tone I do.
Asshole, “yeah, how nice would that be.”
I walk away to his closet to hang up the garment bags.
“You still have two fits that need final fitting. For today, you’ve got a 2pm for your ear plugs and monitors,” I say as I walk back into the main living space. I take in Harry in his bathrobe and bedhead and realize he must be hungover. Which meant extra grumpy. “Also a meeting before noon with Jeff—he’s sick so he’ll do a Zoom. And rehearsals start tomorrow at 8am.”
The long-awaited tour he was rehearsing for was 2 months long and with his tour manager joining him I’d be kind of redundant. We agreed I’d start the tour with him, and then end it as he came back to the UK but I’d take a break in between.
“Good,” Harry sits on a barstool and as the robe parts I hoped he was wearing something underneath. “Are you joining rehearsals?”
“Tomorrow yeah,” I instinctively start tidying the coffee table littered with Harry’s activities from last night. There’s empty bottles and unused rolling papers, takeout containers and unopened bottles.
“Can you stop that,” Harry snaps. He’s wincing when I look up. “The clinking—it’s too loud.”
His second statement comes out softer but it doesn’t make him any less irritating.
“I’ll just toss these ones,” I take the ones I’d gathered in my hand.
“So,” he carries on with the earlier conversation. “Just tomorrow yeah?”
“Yep, to make sure everyone’s there, forms are signed, and all that. Jeff will drop by too. Otherwise I’ll just be there once a week or so since I have other things to complete.”
“So you’ll enjoy the full glory of the show once it’s live on stage?”
“I guess.”
“Please y/n reign in the excitement, it’s just too much.” Harry flexes his sarcasm again.
I look up from the other side of the island and lock eyes with him. With one bottle still in my hand I don’t put it in gently, instead letting it drop onto the others in the bin. His face twists in pain and I get my hit of satisfaction.
“I am excited,” I continue. “I’ll be more excited when you get on tour but right now I’m buried under an insane amount of logistics and stuff. So I’m just pacing myself.”
“Glad you got that out of your system,” he slides off the stool. “Are you sure you want to join tour? It takes a toll.”
“What? Am I taking up the space you reserved for groupies?” I goad.
He pretends to think, “No…we’ve got a whole other bus for that.”
“Great,” I smile. “Then I’ll definitely be there for the start of your tour, cheering you on.”
“Not too hard though,” Harry grabs a water from the fridge and heads towards the bedrooms. “Can’t have all of y/n’s enthusiasm overshadowing my fans.”
I roll my eyes behind his back and choose not to respond, as tempting as it was.
By the end of the week I’ve met everyone that’ll be joining the tour, taken copies of a million contracts and filed a billion papers.
It’s Saturday night and we’re heading home from the studio. Harry, in a twist of kindness, offers to drop me home.
“You don’t live too far,” he comments as we get closer to my building.
“Yeah, I was surprised with that.” It was a stroke of luck having a short commute.
“How does Mr. Duran feel about you coming on tour?”
I throw him a look but he sits there smug, waiting. “Well he’s not keen on me being away from home for so long but otherwise he’s fine.”
“Is he?” Harry extends his knee to nudge mine, irritating me. Just a few more minutes.
“Yes.” I turn to look out the window, no longer interested in the conversation. In reality Gray had been pretty upset that I’d be travelling the continent with womanizer Harry Styles. I’d soothed his fears but he was hard-headed about it.
Originally I’d saved the conversation to be had after New Year’s to not ruin the holidays but Josie had brought up tickets for the tour during Christmas dinner and although I played it off then, he’d been in a mood since.
“You’re an awful liar,” Harry says. I don’t respond. Luckily I’m home.
I figured Sunday, on my day off, Gray and I could catch up and spend quality time together. Maybe iron out some of our kinks. But he tells me he had a few sessions and I’m left alone for most of the day, convinced Gray booked them on purpose but not wanting to admit what that meant.
The following Thursday night, Gray and I finally collide after I’d spent the week stewing in my anger and anxieties.
“Why won’t you just talk to me? I feel like I’m living with a stranger these days.” The conversation starts out semi-tamed as we wash up for dinner.
“You feel that way? Well I’ve seen my fiancée for less than 48 hours a week this last year. Talk about being a stranger.”
“I’ve been taking more time off,” I wonder when he decided to count the number of hours. But it was true—I’d started doing a half-days on most Saturdays and coming home earlier on week nights. Like tonight, I’d been home by half past 6. “I’ve been trying to spend more time at home.”
“Too little too late,” Gray mutters.
“What?”
“I just mean,” he sighs. “I…y/n, we barely get time together. We’re like flatmates these days aren’t we? We haven’t-“
“Don’t you dare Gray,” I wasn’t having this. I refused to hear what he was trying to get at.
“Y/n don’t be difficult-“
“Difficult!? You can’t go radio silent on me and then decide 3 years can just go down the drain.”
“I’m not saying that-“
“Then what are you saying!?”
The silence rings to the corners of our kitchen. The dishes are long forgotten, suds drip down my elbow and onto the floor, and Gray’s towel hangs like a white flag beside him.
“You knew what this job meant—you work with the same clientele, and you encouraged me to go for it. I’m trying to be better I don’t get it.” I finally say.
“I’m saying something needs to change.”
What takes me back the most is the even—even apathetic, tone. It’s the fact that he must have been thinking on this for long enough to be so level-headed about it.
Who has he talked to, I wonder. His sister? Our friends? Who’s advised him to go in this direction because the Grayson I know wouldn’t do me like this. Couldn’t.
Are you even the y/n Grayson knows, a small voice asks in my head.
“We’ve changed, I get it.” My tone takes a pleading ring to it and I hate it. “But you can’t just decide this isn’t worth fighting for Gray-“
“I’m not Y/n,” he puts the towel to the side and grabs my arms. “I’m not throwing anything away but we need to bloody figure something out because…I’m unhappy. And can you really say our relationship is the same? Can you call what we’re in a relationship?”
“Why not?” I whisper, tears choking me. “I thought we love each other and we support each other and-and we see each other through thick and thin.”
“I love you,” Gray squeezes. “And I know we’ve seen each other through thick and thin but…I don’t know if I can keep supporting you at the expense of us.”
“Well what do you want?” I look up into his brown eyes. They’re steady like they usually were.
“I want you, selfishly. I want all of you.”
He had what he wanted, didn’t he get that? He had me. I don’t know what more of me I could give him. And that thought tears me right through.
“What happened to setting a date?” Gray steps back and takes his steady grip with him. I sink into the countertop behind me. “What happened to planning for our future? Marriage and kids and buying a home and doing something more?”
His voice raises as he talks.
“I feel like I’ve been living in limbo for the last year! Just waiting around for you. I don’t know how much longer I can wait-“
“We can set a date,” I say. “We can do all that! You-you haven’t brought up any of it either! If it’s been weighing on your mind why don’t you ever just say something!?”
“I shouldn’t have to!”
I’d hit a nerve. We’d had this conversation a dozen times.
“Of course you do! Like, I’m not a mind reader you’ve been stewing in these feelings for god knows how long and now you’re telling me you’re thinking of-of-of ending things!?”
There, I’d said it.
His face contorts into a flurry of emotions. My body feels ragged just saying these things out loud.
“When I spoke to Stewart and Bex they said-“
“Stewart and…” I was right he’s been talking. “You were talking to Stew and Bex!? Since when did you spend time with Bex?”
“Since I had a lot of time alone at home.”
Fuck, he managed to get the upper hand all the time with that one valid point he had.
“They both agreed with me that this isn’t right. I’m allowed to be upset and ask you for something to change-“
“But why didn’t you talk to me!” The switch to anger is quick when he admits he was talking to our friends. I think about the last few times we saw them—had they been judging me? Had Gray told them by then?
Gray tries to brush past and tell me more about his validated feelings, about how things had changed. I can’t hear anymore.
“This decision you seem to want to make for both of us should involve me too and yet you make it the talk of the town before consulting me. I’m so goddamn tired of the way you shut down Gray I-“
“I’m tired!” He butts in. “I’m tired of watching things change and being forced to move past it.”
I stare at him. He’s not bending whatsoever. He’s not even understanding the frustration at being the last to know his feelings on our fucking relationship. Didn’t he understand how iced out that made me feel? When I’ve been trying to be as mindful as I can?
“You know what Gray,” I sneer. “You talk about us changing but did you ever think that we’ve been changing since we first met!? The only thing that’s different now is we stopped talking!”
I throw the rest of the dishes into the soapy water and storm out to the only safe haven I had right now—our bed.
Everyone wanted parts of me I couldn’t give and I felt torn to shreds! I hardly recognized the girl in the mirror, I hardly remembered what it felt like to be me.
The only time I felt centered, a bit of calm, was here. With Gray.
And now I knew the feelings weren’t mutual. He’d been thinking of ending things while I had curled in his arms. While I had kissed him goodnight and hello. While we had dinner or drinks. While we hung out with friends who were privy to all the cracks in our relationship. Who knows how long it had been a one-sided feeling.
I bury my head into my pillow wanting to scream and cry at the same time. My head hurts but mostly my heart hurts. I feel betrayed by my bestest friend and the person I love the most.
You’re no better, the ugly voice in my head shows up again. You’ve done things you should be ashamed of.
I block the voice out. I block it all out until all I feel is numb.
Gray doesn’t come to bed at all that night. I drag myself out of the nest I’d created some time around midnight, thinking he fell asleep on the sofa. To tell him to come to bed since I knew our sofa wasn’t long enough for him to even fit on.
I sway in the middle of the empty living room. There’s nobody here. Definitely not Gray. He’d left altogether, to wherever he’s been finding refuge recently.
It hits me; I think I’ve done this to myself. I was alone. Really alone.
***
The scowl is permanently etched onto my face as I go about my Friday morning. I feel Harry’s eyes on me a few times but even he doesn’t broach the subject. We silently maneuver around each other until he leaves for rehearsal.
I think about calling my friends to talk about this but I realize all my friends who were up to date on my life had become interwoven with Gray’s. And I already know Gray complained about my job to them based on a few parties last year. So they definitely wouldn’t be unbiased listening to anything I said.
I regret then, not staying in touch more with my friends back home. For the first time in years I feel a bit homesick.
I decide busying myself with work would be the only thing to keep me sane so I throw on headphones and get down to business.
As the day starts to come to an end I put on Harry’s stereo with the mournful songs that had been comforting me today and grab a seltzer from the fridge. He wouldn’t be home until 8 tonight and he’s always been open about using whatever was in the general living spaces.
So I nearly have a heart attack when I see a shadow from the corner of my eyes around 6.
I give a shout when it comes with a voice and once my senses return I realize it’s just a sweaty Harry back early from rehearsal.
“What? Are you doing here!?” I press on my pounding heart. “Alexa music off.”
He’s grinning at the way I reacted and now he laughs, it’s a bending-over laugh and I chuckle myself as I replay how dramatic it all was.
“Wow.” He says when he finally catches his breath. “I wish I had that on video.”
“Jesus,” I swear. “I thought you’d be home a lot later.”
“So this is what happens when I’m not home,” he teases.
“Only on Fridays,” I collapse into the closest chair and tilt my head back. “God, I thought there was like, an intruder or something. Or a ghost.”
He laughs again, moving to the kitchen for a water. “Good thing ghosts don’t exist.”
“They so do.” I reply.
“There’s no proof that’s ever convinced me they exist.”
“You live a sad skeptical life Mr. Styles.” My breathing is finally regulated and I sit up to look at him. “I’ve seen one myself when I was a teen. I wish I could be a disbeliever like you.”
“You’ll have to tell me the story,” he leans on the island looking very amused.
“I will,” I accept his challenge.
“I cut rehearsals short,” he continues. “I’m knackered from this week. I just want to be one with my couch and get drunk and not worry about what moves to do and what song to sing.”
“Yeah,” he looked tired and his hair was getting a bit shaggy. He runs his hand through the damp curls. “I need a shower and I think I should do a trim.”
“Consider it booked,” I pull the phone towards me and text his usual stylist. I hear him move around the space and pause before he disappears down the hall.
“Are you heading home soon?” He asks.
“Hm?” I kill time responding, acting like I didn’t hear his response. I didn’t want to go home at all. I didn’t even know if Gray was home or not and I didn’t want to find out. Harry repeats his question. “No. I wanted to wrap up some things. I can move to the office if you wanted the space to chill out?”
He shrugs and tells me I could go where I want.
I wanted to be out of the way, and not home. So I move to the office. The same office where weeks ago I’d teetered on the edge of a fatal decision and now was faced with the possibility of that decision made for me.
I slump in the seat and take a moment to just decompress. A headache creeps around my eyes and I just feel lost and hurt and alone.
When I break the laptop open again I move like a slug, scraping the barrel of effort and coming up with nil.
“Uh y/n?” Harry’s head pops into the door a while later.
“Yeah?” I blink up at him, still in slug mode.
He stares at me a second, “Do you have plans tonight? You could…join me in doing nothing?”
When was the last time I did nothing? I couldn’t remember. And it sounded like a distraction—not a good one, but one that helped me avoid home for longer.
“Sure?” I respond.
Harry blinks. “Oh. Brilliant. Finish what you’re doing if you’d like or you can join me now. Oh. Could you also order us some pizza or something that’s greasy and bad for us?”
I liked the direction of this. I feel my sluggish feeling slide away. “I can do that.”
“Good. Great. This is going to be a good night.”
He moves away as he talks and his last sentence is shouted from down the hall. I smile, relieved to do something like this.
I consider texting Gray, but decide against it. He left last night without a word, making me worried and today there’s been radio silence. I wasn’t in the mood to take the high road.
I do as Harry asks. Meanwhile Harry had put on some peppier music and brought out a six-pack from the fridge. His head is buried in the pantry rummaging through.
“What do you need?” I come up behind him.
“Oh,” he pops out. “Looking for some sweets. I’m sure I have some somewhere.”
“Oh yeah!” I close the doors he’s looking in and open the top cabinet. His eyes light up when he spots the options. “Food’s on its way by the way.”
He rubs his hands and starts pulling things off the pantry. It’s a different energy than any before, he’s not picking on me or ordering me around. He’s just inviting me to be on the ins with him. My instinct is to stay quiet and see where it goes but I shake it off.
“Are we just playing with beer tonight or is wine on the menu?” I ask. I hated the taste of beer.
“It could?” He unloads the pile in his arms onto the island and starts rummaging through the wines. “How about this one?”
A white. I take it from him and head for some glasses.
We end up making a buffet for ourselves on the coffee table and when the pizza comes we settle in, chatting occasionally about the things around us.
“So what does doing nothing involve?” I ask when we’re situated on the couch. Harry’s left a few feet of space between us which is very appreciated. I pull my feet up. “Because I have to say it’s been a while and I don’t know how to do nothing.”
He laughs, throwing his head back. I find myself grinning in response.
“Touché mon amie.”
“Okay I actually got that,” I nod.
“Do you speak french?” He asks as he opens the wine and pours us both a glass, mine’s a lot more full than his.
“No but I spent a month in Paris when I was in uni,” I savour the sour flavours of the wine as it coats my mouth and settles me down. “So I learned the bare minimum. Now all I can say is bonjour, ca beigne? And also un verre du vin s’il vous plait?”
“So you cut right to the chase—hey are you alright? A glass of wine thanks. Now leave me alone.”
We laugh and I hold up my glass, “I was hoping you’d get the hint. Why is mine so full anyway?”
“I’m just drinking some so you don’t have to drink it alone. Then I’m gonna crack on with the beer.”
“Oh!” There he had to go and be thoughtful again. “Forget it, I will happily drink the bottle. Drink whatever you want.”
“Yeah?” He leans forward to put his glass down.
I lean over and pour his measly amount into mine. “There, you’ve done the sharing part.”
“So y/n,” he asks after we’ve grabbed our respective snacks of choice. “Can I ask why you were listening to all those ballads before I came in?”
“I need to get a bit more drunk before I do that,” I down some more wine, already feeling the buzz of it. Obviously this was not the cheap wine I generally had.
“Alright we’ll get you there,” he promises. His eyes flicker from his phone to me and back to his phone. “Uhh could I show you something?”
“Like what?”
“We’re releasing the MV for one of my songs a week before I go on tour right.”
“Right,” I name the single that’s been thrown around countless times this week.
“I got back the deck for what it’ll look like. I’m excited can I show it to you?”
It’s endearing, in a way, how eager he is to show it. His cheeks even have spots of pink.
“Uh yeah! Let’s see it!”
“Cool,” he grins. He turns on the TV and casts whatever video is on his phone to the screen. He gives me some background on how it was setting up a whole storyline and how they’ve already started filming some of the scenes.
“The shooting starts the week after this one right?”
“Yeah, I’ll be in Scotland for a few days. You’re joining me right?”
“Yes! I’m excited to see all the action myself.” I had signed up for the 4-day trip with zero hesitation. As someone who’s always been making up stories and concepts to most music I listened to, getting to see the bts for an MV was a dream come true.
“Really?” He asks.
“Yeah, it’s real excitement I promise.”
“You’re interested in it?”
“Yeah! I love music videos, it creates a whole new experience for a song we’ve probably listened to on repeat. It’s cool!”
“So this is y/n really enthusiastic,” he leans back in the cushions to get me in full. “Now I really know you couldn’t give a rat’s arse about tour.”
“Stop saying that!” I laugh. “I was just stressed. I am excited about all of it okay?”
“So you say,” with a final glance he presses play and I’m entranced as the narration takes us through the plan.
“Umm all I can say is wow.” I turn to him when it’s done. My wine glass had been emptied and my brain had been itched with the most beautiful location and storytelling I’ve seen in a while. “That’s like a mini movie.”
“That’s what I said!” He exclaims. “It’s going to blow everything out of the water.”
“Look at us, doing nothing.” I realize we’d turned around and talked about work.
“Bollocks we’re no good at this.” Harry slides a hand down his face and I laugh at the dramatics. “Let me refill you at least.”
I happily oblige.
We talk about the mv some more, and move onto the tour. Harry asks me about the concerts I’ve been to and we get the kind of excited when you’re tipsy once we find out we were both at a Coldplay concert four years ago in London.
“That would’ve been before the success so I would have been just another bloke to you,” he notes.
“Yeah, imagine we crossed paths then? That would be crazy.”
“If we did, we might still be doing this tonight, just as mates,” he points to between us. “Or you would have fallen in love with me and I would have sacrificed my music to raise our kids.”
“What!?” It’s so absurdly ridiculous that I nearly snort my wine. “Where did that comes from!?”
“Admit it,” he puffs out his chest. “That would have happened. And I’d be so committed-“
“Well you’re assuming that in a 4 year time-span we would get to the point of having kids. So firstly no, secondly who said you had to sacrifice your career?”
“I-“ he stops mid-sentence, looking into the distance.
“Exactly!” I shout. “You’ve got nothing. You’ve just made up a story that makes you sounds good and noble!”
“Fine,” he settles down. “Fine! We never meet and you end up with your Duran bloke and I end up a musician.”
“Is that all I’m reduced to?” I raise my brow. “Who I’m with?”
“No!” He leans between us to pat my leg. It tingles. “No I didn’t mean it like that. You’ll do great things. I just mean the person you end up with isn’t superstar Harry Styles.”
I roll my eyes, “I need more wine if I’m gonna be subjected to any more of this bullshit.”
“Bullshit?!”
“Mhm,” I pop a gummy into my mouth and ignore the look of shock on his face.
“Fine. Then tell me about your bullshit,” he raises his can. “What’s happening to make you so ferocious this morning.”
Oh god. I hold up a finger and shimmy forward for some more wine. I’d drank 2/3 of the bottle and I was definitely tipsy. Maybe I’ll just sip this one.
“Fine. If you want to hear it.”
“I do.”
“I got into a fight with Gray.”
He raises a brow, I continue.
“He’s upset with me and complaining that I work a lot and that he feels like I’m his flatmate!”
“Flatmate with benefits.”
“Shut up!” I groan. “Not the point.”
“Sorry!” He holds his hands up.
“I don’t think he realizes how much of my head is just Gray like, I’m always thinking about him, about what I could do for him and say to him just to make sure he feels seen and reassured and loved! You know I’ve asked you for half-days on Saturdays when you don’t have a lot going on-“
“Mhm,” he nods along.
“I’m like, making sure I’m being a good partner. And apparently he’s been upset and not saying anything.”
“The old silent on the home front.”
“Yes!” I nearly drip wine as I pump my hand. “Yes, on the home front he’s bloody broody and quiet. I knew something was on his mind but like always he’s tight lipped. Even when I asked him a week ago he said he’s just been working a lot. What a liar!”
I complain about how it felt to be iced out of my partner’s emotions and having to guess all the time.
“Then I find out he’s been talking to all our friends to get advice.” Harry raises his brows in judgement and leans back into the sofa, and the small gesture makes me feel so validated. I didn’t realize how much I needed a third-party to just listen to my side of things. Until now, I’d literally not had anyone to talk to about this especially since I avoided talking about work with Gray. I get misty eyed.
“And when we’re talking he’s like so-and-so said this as if I want to know. And!” Now I was on a roll. I put my glass down in fear of spilling it on the pristine sofa and get on my knees to emphasize my frustration. “And the girl he quoted? Get this, I met her—Rebecca—at a job I did like a year ago? And we got along fabulously and I invited her to this party we threw right because she was new to the city and all that. She met my other friends and she fit in so well they invited her the next event. I got her into the group and now she’s talking shit about me with my fiancé behind my back!”
“She’s probably got a thing for your man,” Harry suggests.
“Oh she definitely does!” I’m animated as I continue. “She so does! I’ve caught her making eyes at him before, and laughing a lot whenever he makes a joke. I even mentioned it to him once but he said he didn’t notice.”
“He probably didn’t,” Harry shrugs.
“I know, the male species is a wonder. You get big flirts like you and then otherwise they’re completely oblivious.”
“I’ll have you know when I was a teen, a girl literally gave me a valentine cupcake and I just thought—well I knew she liked to bake, so I thought she just had extras. I didn’t understand why she didn’t speak to me the rest of the year.”
“No way,” I laugh—a lot because the wine was definitely sloshing around in my head, but also I couldn’t imagine Harry being that aloof. “I guess it comes with the ego territory. Were you less of a jerk as a kid?”
His jaw drops. “You just called me a jerk right now. To my face.”
“I did,” I say with glee. I stand to get the full picture of an offended Harry. “And I don’t regret it. So? Were you nicer as a kid?”
“No I’m not answering until you take that back.”
“What! You are a jerk…sometimes! I’m not taking it back!”
“You have to take it back otherwise I will cut you off on the wine.”
I take a step back and stumble as he speaks. Which makes me laugh more. “I think I should cut back. I am a hot mess.”
“At least you’re laughing,” Harry stands too. “It’s world’s different from this morning.”
Just like telling someone not to think of an elephant, I think of the elephant.
“Noo no don’t do that!” Harry rushes towards me and bends down to look me in the eye. “I liked it when you were smiling just now c’mon.”
“Well you reminded me why I was so upset-“
“Can’t stay grumpy, just give me another smile. One smile! Small teeny tiny smile—there it is!”
I can’t help it with his face in mine and the way he’s putting on a voice to get me to smile my face splits in a grin.
“You’re soooo annoying!” I push him but unstable and drunk I fall backwards.
I don’t know what happens next but I’m on the floor looking up into Harry’s concerned face.
“Y/n? Y/n!?”
“Yeah,” my head pounds as I try to make sense of where I am.
“Fuck,” I hear Harry say. He moves away and the overhead light attacks my eyes so I squeeze them shut.
I hear him, panicked, on the phone.
“No!” I try to call out. “M’fine! Don’t even worry-“
“Stay down Y/N,” he’s back by my side. I try to prove to him that I’m okay and sit up but a few inches off the ground and my head feels like it’s full of bees.
“So many bees,” I murmur as I go back down, now a pillow behind my head.
A few minutes later Harry’s helping me up gently. I tell him I wanted to throw up and he helps me to the toilet where I do. Gah. Why did I drink so much.
“I think I’ll head home now,” I hear myself saying to Harry like I was miles away.
“No,” his hands are around my shoulder and holding me upright as we walk out. The lift increases my nausea but I keep my eyes shut.
“I’m going home now,” I tell Harry when we get outside.
“No you’re getting checked out.”
“No!” I shove him away and nearly topple over myself. Why did he have to boss me around all the time? “Stop telling me what to do! My head hurts I’m going home!”
He tries to grab my hand but I yank it off. “Stop! Just stop!”
“Y/n,” Harry’s voice is low and comforting as he gets down in my ear. He smells nice too. “You passed out and you have a headache we have to get you checked out.”
“You’re no fun,” I cross my arms but follow him, only because my headache is so bad. As we get in the car I close my eyes shut as the lights assault them. Harry doesn’t let me sleep on the ride home even though his body is warm and steady beside me. I barely know where I am.
Harry’s POV:
I keep telling myself she would most likely be fine, just like the doctor reassured me but it’s hard not to beat myself up.
I shouldn’t have let her get that drunk, especially upset. I shouldn’t have gotten in her space and caused her to tumble back. I should have done something else.
The guilt is added to when I think of how I spoke to the doctor, demanding they do every scan and not to skip any. I hated who I became sometimes, when I pulled the famous card, but I thought it was necessary right now. Even y/n would give me a pass for using it.
I can’t stop replaying the thud as her head hit the hardwood floor, her eyelids fluttering as I rushed to her, her slack face when she lost consciousness for a moment.
It’s been hours since we came in. The doctor finally heads my way.
“Mr. Styles, your girlfriend is alright,” he holds up his hands before I’m fully standing.
I may have had to say she was my girlfriend after they wouldn’t let me have any say tonight…
“She’ll be alright, you did the right thing getting her here right away.”
“But?”
“No but,” he smiles. “Obviously it’s serious she has a moderate concussion but if she doesn’t exasperate any symptoms—takes it easy the next couple weeks, she’ll be right as rain. We can discharge her once the neurologist confirms. She’s just finishing with another patient right now-“
“She should stay overnight,” I cut him off. His cheeriness was starting to irritate me I felt like he wasn’t taking this seriously enough.
“Oh well,” he laughs but I know I’m irritating him right back. “She will be alright. I can provide you and her with a followup plan-“
“Doctor,” I say. “She’s staying overnight. If I need to rent a bed I’ll do that, tell me what I need to do, but she should stay under observation. Get the care she deserves.”
He pursues his lips, and I wait for him to agree.
“Yep,” he sighs. “I’ll tell the nurse. Just follow me and we can sort the details.”
We do that, I even take a selfie for the nurse’s daughter which grates on the doctor’s nerves even more. He leaves shortly after.
I get y/n’s room and walk there slowly, wondering how to apologize. Ever since December we’ve been playing a game of tennis with words and tonight I felt both of us relax onto the same note. Then this.
She’s sleeping when I get to her. My watch says 1am. She looks peaceful and it hurts even more.
The truth was despite acting like I didn’t, I did like Y/N but she was complicated, and the more I tried to untangle her web the more sticky things became for both of us. I didn’t want to make more mistakes than I have in the past so I’d kept my distance. Even if it hurt both of us.
Tonight was good though. Until it wasn’t. This was why I shouldn’t blur lines. You would think I’d have learned that by now.
I step by her bed, hesitating. Someone has wiped the remains of her makeup off and she looks so much younger. Like a sleeping cherub. My heart gives a squeeze.
I push back a strand of her hair, my hand wanting to do something. I settle for taking her hand in mine, it’s not the first time I’ve held it but like it always does, a flood of warmth rushes through me.
I never understood Victorian romances until her; just touching her hand got my blood pumping.
With a stroke of my thumb over her knuckles, she stirs. I freeze.
Her eyes flicker open, “Hey?”
My voice disappears. There’s too much that I want to say and nothing I’m allowed to say. Maybe a sorry. I open my mouth but she squeezes my hand. I forgot I was still holding hers.
“So much for doing nothing huh?” She cracks a smile and it breaks the marble I’d become encased in. I laugh and collapse onto the sliver of the bed.
“We should never do nothing again.”
“Nope,” she smiles, closing her eyes again.
“Y/N I’m really sorry for tonight. I feel awful-“
Her mouth parts. She was asleep.
I want to sit here with her until she wakes again, until the doctors kick us out. Something about seeing her so vulnerable here makes me want to confess the thing that’s been lodged in my chest for a long time.
I release her hand and move away from the bed. This was dangerous. Maybe I could wait in the waiting room until she’s released. Then take her home.
Something vibrates. It’s not my phone, and then I notice the purse I’d brought with us. Y/N’s.
I peek inside for the phone and her fiancé’s face takes up the screen. He looks younger. And then I remember, it’s like stepping out of the fog this night had put me in and into reality.
I pick up.
“Y/N it’s nearly 2 in the morning just tell me you’re alright? You haven’t been answering your texts I-“
“Hi,” I clear my throat and the line goes dead silent. I decide to continue. “Hey uh this is Harry. Styles. Uhm, don’t panic or anything because she is okay but she’s in hospital and-“
“What?” He comes back with a boom. “Why is she there what happened? Which hospital?”
I tell him which one, explain she bumped her head and I had to take her here. That the doctors said she would recover and be herself again soon. He simply swears and tells me he’d be there soon.
This was Y/N’s life. This was the right thing to do. Still, I stay in the room with my head in my hands and think about the whole evening again and again.
“Just tell me the bloody room…I don’t care about the time…”
The voice travels through as doors open and close in the hall and I look out. Grayson. Like a pitbull. I can see him through the rectangular window demanding to see Y/N.
I open the swinging doors and his nostrils flare as he spots me.
“Why the hell is he allowed in and not me?” He continues his tirade. “Does hospital policy not matter when it comes to the rich and famous now? I want to see her doctor and-“
The nurse turns to me, annoyed but before she can ask the question the doctor is out.
“What’s all this? Do you know the time sir, please follow me and we can talk-“
“I don’t want to fucking follow you. I want him gone and I want to see my fiancee.”
Looks are exchanged between the doctor and the nurse, finally landing on me. I imagine what they’re thinking—just another homewrecking famous rockstar, do we tell the fiancé or act cool?
“He should be able to see her,” I say in an even tone. I can feel the eyes on me, especially the laser beams from Gray.
“I thought-“
“Okay. Visitor pass him and let him in,” the doctor cuts his nurse off as she stares at me. Maybe her daughter wouldn’t get that photo tonight after all, and instead be told to pick better role models. It doesn’t matter to me. Not tonight.
I watch Gray get sorted, watch him walk down and to Y/N’s room. To his fiancée’s room.
I wonder how he feels, fighting with her last night just for y/n to end up here tonight. I wonder if that’s why he was so vocal tonight—the guilt.
But I suspected he was the kind of man that called himself easy-going and only got this raucous when another man was threatening his public image. It was pretty clear the hospital staff thought we had some pseudo-relationship arrangement. I don’t think Duran was daft enough to miss that.
Plus, I’d been the one to bring her here not him.
With a big sigh I take my phone out to call a taxi. It was my turn to go home.
I text Y/N from the car, tell her to rest over the weekend and let me know how she feels Monday morning. She could take the whole week off if she wanted but I also knew her and knew she would try to come back asap.
I try to piece back the marble armour I wore before tonight, it’s ill-fitting and hurts to get on but I do it anyway. This was why I couldn’t be the person Y/N wanted me to be; I tried to mix parts of my life together and it would only end with shite.
Y/N’s POV:
I don’t know who this man in front of me was. Or actually, I hadn’t seen him a long time.
I’d been discharged from the hospital on Saturday morning with odd looks all around. Maybe because Harry brought me in? And ever since, Grayson has been doting on me. Doting.
“Did you want anything specific?” Gray stands at the foot of the bed, asking me what he should make me for breakfast. The last time he made me a special breakfast was…last summer?
“I wouldn’t say no to pancakes?” I reply. “I looove your chocolate chip pancakes.”
“I’ll get it started,” he walks over to kiss my temple and leaves.
The weirdest part is that I feel weird; I don’t know why but Gray doting on me like this made me feel claustrophobic and…weird!
I look out the window to the overcast sky. Same, I think. At least for a Sunday, it felt fitting.
I pick up my phone and check the last response from Harry. Since I got discharged he’d been texting me to see how I was feeling. I think he was feeling guilty even though I told him it wasn’t his fault.
I tried not to drink when I was upset because back in uni it led to some shitty situations but the other night I’d overstepped my rule and done this anyway. And paid for it. I should have known better. And after the absolute misery of yesterday’s aftermath—the migraine and the vertigo and the completely lack of appetite, I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. Ever.
Today I feel a lot better. I still have a headache and I’m looking forward to breakfast with my painkiller, but the light doesn’t hurt as much and the nausea only comes back when I do too much.
You: I’ll be back in no time. Feeling better
Harry: I want you to feel the best so I’m banning you from working until Wed. And that’s conditional on you feeling better
Y: Doc said I can resume a lowkey version of my life after 48hrs
H: I didn’t like that doc. take my advice instead
Y: when did you get your md
H: same time you got yours
Y: I have an md?
H: being stubborn 101
Y: your jokes are a lot better when you text
H: cuz you’re not distracted by my face
Y: ooookay I’m no longer giving you the platform byeee
He was sassy, apparently. I never got this side of him before.
I read through the convo again and smile. But it hits me that it sounded like flirting. And that would be incredibly inappropriate. So I shove my phone in my bedside drawer and inch out of bed to join Gray.
We spend the day talking about a lot, but not about what we should talk about. Which, with the way I was feeling, was fine by me. At the same time it felt like we were both politely playing a role neither of us could put our hearts into. It felt shitty.
Gray has a session around 4 and I crawl back into bed, putting on a romcom I’ve watched a million times for comfort.
My body feels heavy and it has nothing to do with the concussion. The last couple days and my current relationship with Gray casts a shadow over my thoughts. I felt like making any decision was like wading through quicksand and running away just sounded better.
I rub my temples, hoping like a genie’s lamp, I could get an omnipotent spirit cast out and grant me easy wishes. I’d wish for things to go back to normal, for my heart not to be such a wretched thing. For clarity.
I pick up my phone and scroll to the one person I had run away from and have missed since. I didn’t talk to her very often but I thought I could use her no-nonsense approach.
My mom frets when I tell her what had happened. She goes quiet as I tell her I’d gotten drunk to forget about the troubles in my relationship.
“Relationships go through a lot of phases. It’s like going through those cave tunnels all made of rock and you gotta squeeze really tight sometimes just to fit through and continue on.”
“That is an amazing comparison mom, but I don’t know if this is one of those times. It feels like Gray’s already given up on us.”
“Well it’s been a long time he’s waited.”
“But he never said. He never talked to me.”
She sighs. “Your Grayson sure is a contemplative son of a bitch isn’t he?”
I laugh a little too hard and feel a pulse in my head. “I know. But then today he was so dang sweet—since I got home. He was so overprotective. And he made me breakfast mom and it made me realize I haven’t had that Gray in a long time.”
She’s silent on the other end. She knew there was more. How did I ever think, as a teen, my mom didn’t understand me? I think I just never understood her.
“But it felt weird.” I continue. “I feel horrible for saying it but I felt weird!”
“Was there heart?” She asks gently.
There wasn’t.
That’s what it was. And my heart weeps. All those actions without feelings.
“Have you thought about coming home?” Mom asks when the silence stretches. She always asked and I was the worst daughter in the world for never going back. The last time was when I graduated, for 2 weeks in which my family drove me crazy and I had been crazy in love with Gray and eager to get back to him.
“Maybe,” I close my eyes and slide down into bed.
“Your brother’s new girlfriend reminds me of that friend you had where she came on our camping trip and cried the whole time? What was her name?”
“Deanna? Mom I stayed friends with her all through high school! She was just very anxious.”
“I know! His girlfriend’s always darting about, jumping at tiny things. Reminds me of her.”
“Well Jace better be treating her right.”
“He does,” mom’s voice raises. “You should see them together. It’s cute but they’re still teenaged loves so I try not to break his bubble too much.”
Mom had definitely relaxed a lot since I was a teen. She had practically chased my first boyfriend away.
“Remember your first boyfriend?” She asks and I shout how I was remembering that too. We end up talking about old memories, and I feel a little more known and a little less lonely when I hang up.
Gray and I order takeout and I try to watch a movie with him but the strain on my eyes gets too much. I tell him I was going to bed and insist that he stays and finishes. I didn’t feel like watching him play boyfriend.
I’m eager to get back to work, for next week when I can go to Scotland for the MV. The eagerness comes from guilt but I carry both as I fall asleep.
***
I feel like a kid at Disneyland. Or maybe a Disney adult. Either way, I’m blown away getting to watch this MV come to life.
It’s long hours, a lot of waiting, and some shouting. But everything else is magic.
I came back to work last Thursday and other than an ear-splitting headache on the flight and a low-grade one when I stared at a screen too long, I was on my way to normal. When I got back to work Harry kept making excuses for me so I could work from the office but I refused to be treated differently and eventually he relented.
“It’s so freaking cold!” I jump up and down beside Harry by the cliffside. He’s just wrapped up a scene and the crew was taking a look at the footage to see if they needed anything more in this spot.
“Why don’t you put on more layers? Do you want an extra coat the crew might have-“
“No!” I continue wriggling around. “I’m heading back to the car in a few. This is an amazing view.”
“Isn’t it,” Harry turns to the sea that’s churning away much like my own heart these days. It feels calming to see it physically somewhere else.
We stand in silence except for my occasional teeth chattering and stare out to the view.
“Have you seen more of it?” Harry motions to the cameras. “What do you think?”
On this trip I’ve been giving my honest opinion, and I know I’ve offended Harry at least once but I didn’t come all the way here for my dream experience only to stroke his ego.
I tell him my take. We talk about the overall storyline about belonging and sacrifice until we’re interrupted with two hands holding out hot teas.
“You both looked cold,” the woman says. She was another assistant on set and I’m not sure what to do being waited on as a PA myself.
“Oh, thank you!” I make sure she knows I appreciate it. “That’s…that’s super kind thanks!”
She throws us both a smile and I stare at my cup, the heat tingling on my cold fingertips.
“Friendship and belonging yeah,” Harry starts up again.
“Yeah but also I like how you—your character, whatever, knows when it’s time to leave for his better growth. Sacrifice with his friend and sacrifice with the only home he’s known. Plus that’s a comfortable outfit.”
I tap a button on Harry’s jumpsuit. He grins. “You can have it.”
“I would be drowning in that you’re a lot taller.”
“We can have it altered,” he says. A shiver runs through me at we. I blame it on the cold.
I sip the tea now that it’s not scalding and find it’s a lot cooler. The open air, I guess.
“So you really love all this,” Harry says. “You weren’t joking about that excitement.”
“No I told you!” I flash to the night we did “nothing” which feels long ago. “I have a vivid imagination when it comes to music and I spent any spare courses on film so now I can interpret the heck out of any song and music video like my life depends on it.”
“We should get you back there,” he motions to the crew. “Get you on board.”
“Would I get the little clipboard and clapper?”
“Yeah!”
“Goals,” I sigh.
Little did I know, by Saturday as we’re filming our final scene one of the crew members hands me the clapper. He tells me I’m supposed to cut the final scene. I stare at him, thinking I misheard.
The clapboard hangs between us. He shakes it a little and I take it. It’s heavier than I thought.
“Harry asked if you can cut for the final scene, see the man behind the camera? He’ll look to you and give you the nod. Then you step in front and just do the thing.”
“Oh…” I’m still staring at the thing in my hand. My palms feel sweaty like it’s going to crash to the ground and break in two but that thought gets me to hold it closer. “Thanks.”
“Yep,” the guy walks away and I stare at the scene being filmed. Slowly I walk closer to the cameraman and he glances at me, notices the clapper, and smiles holding up two fingers.
He whispers something to someone beside him and they change the lighting. Harry walks off “screen” and I try to catch his eye to show him what I had. We catch it briefly and he winks before walking back onto the screen.
Oh my god! My heart is racing as I hold it in my hands. I had to chill. Or I’m gonna make a mess of things. It’s just a clapperboard and you’re saying one word!
Two minutes. I manage to calm down enough and when I get the signal I step in front of the camera and, as I see it later on, with the biggest grin on my face I clap down and yell “cut!”
Harry lets out a whoop and the crew cheers as the filming wraps up. I’m sure my eyes are wide as saucers as I go to Harry. He puts an arm around me and pulls me in, laughing because I tell him my heart is racing and how does he do tours when just that made me shaky.
“It gets easier,” we walk now with his arm around my shoulder. “One day you’ll be behind the camera shouting at me to move places.”
“Oooh getting to boss you around and get paid for it?” I look up at him and my breath catches because he’s handsome at every bloody angle. “Sign me up.”
He let me go and gives me a few tsks. Then he gets his phone and tells me to pose with the clapper and I do it happily. The picture shows a grinning girl with pure delight on her face.
“I’ll put that as your contact photo right,” Harry says as he gets into a jacket. “And that way at least when you call me with bad news I get to see a smile beforehand.”
“Har har,” I roll my eyes but I don’t hate the idea.
A lot of the crew decide to go out for drinks and dinner and Harry passes but I decide to go. I’d met some friendly faces and I would miss working with them, miss the overall energy, when we got back to London.
As I fall asleep that night, full and content, I realize I hadn’t texted Gray all day. I wake to check my phone and see he’d sent a text a few hours ago.
Sorry I was out for lunch with the crew. Babe it was sooooo fun I can’t wait to show you pictures when I get home.
I read the rest of his message asking how I was. I tell him my headache was gone and ask him about his week but I’ve fallen asleep before he can respond.
***
The morning I have to leave for tour I wake up way too early. Too much nervous excitement. I’d already brushed and checked my luggage was packed before crawling back into bed waiting for Gray to wake.
I watch him sleep, my eyes following the familiar contours of his face. We’d been making an effort at rebuilding the relationship since we agreed we at least had to give it a try after I got home from Scotland a month ago. On one hand it feels like starting a new relationship and also breathing easier because we were both on the same page. On the other, we’d finally started planning the wedding!
I would miss him, nearly 3 weeks away which is the longest we’ve been apart since we got together. Then I’d be home for 2 weeks, and away for the last week before Harry finishes with a couple shows in London. It was going to be epic and crazy as exhausted as I’ve been.
I huddle close to Gray and he stirs slightly but I kiss his neck to wake him.
“Hey,” he mumbles in his sleep.
“Morning,” I press another kiss to his face.
“What time?” He moves his head to kiss me back.
“Hmmm half past 7?”
He grumbles about it being so early but it stops shortly after with both of my legs on either side of him and my hair curtaining our faces.
“M’gonna miss your snooty face,” I say with another kiss. He finally opens his eyes and his hand comes up to hold my chin.
“I’ll be the one here missing you.”
���I’ll call every chance I get.”
“You’ll get to see so many new cities,” he says.
“Barely but I’m gonna try to make the most of it,” the travel schedule was hectic but I know there were a couple slower days I could use to explore cities. If I wasn’t completely exhausted.
“You’ll have a lot of fun,” he pushes my hair behind my ear.
“Remember Josie’s coming this weekend to stay the week.” Gray’s sister had taken the opportunity of a semi-empty flat to stay here while she studied for mid-terms. I had encouraged it so Gray felt less lonely.
“She’s gonna drive me crazy,” he huffs.
“Just behave,” I warn him.
“I don’t know how,” he smiles, rolling us around so he’s on top and showing me what misbehaving means. I don’t mind it a bit.
After a quick shower together we head out to the airport, Harry offered to pick me up on his way but I wanted to make sure I spent as much time with Gray as possible so he doesn’t feel like I was leaving him like before. I hoped he knew, at least, the effort I was making.
***
Stockholm, Hamburg, Oslo, and Copenhagen in one week. It was exhilarating and exhausting and hectic and so fulfilling.
I had seen Harry at small shows before but on the big stage he has a presence with a capital P. It’s amazing watching him perform and dance and be charming all over. He could be cheeky yet command the crowd at the same time. And despite all these sides he’s never inauthentic.
For the first time I’m able to take somewhat of a backseat. He already had his manager, tour manager, stylist, and tour chef with him to manage most aspects I would regularly. I became sort of an extra hand when I wasn’t having sit-down hours. That’s what I called the times I was sitting on the laptop sorting out future timelines for Harry’s life (and my wedding).
But I loved it. I’d pick a cafe close to our hotel and spend a few hours working. I’d call Gray during these times and if he was free we’d catch up on all I saw and he’d share stories with me until Josie crashed the conversation with stories of her own.
My eye bags require more concealer than usual and my body begs for nutrition but otherwise I love every second.
I’m back from my sit-down hours and get off the lift. Harry and his team were placed in the same hotel just down the hall from each other. As I approach my own door one of Harry’s band mates rushes out of his door looking stressed.
“He’s in a mood,” she huffs. “Don’t go in there.”
“Did something happen?” I ask.
She shrugs, “he gets this way. Usually at the start of tour I don’t know why. Kinda snappy just…give him space.”
I do as she says but the next morning as we wait to board our early flight to Paris he continues to be a dick to everyone.
“Maybe take a nap on the flight Haz,” one of his bandmates suggest. “We’re all bloody tired don’t be such a grump.”
“I don’t need a bloody nap stop treating me like a child.”
“What to do when you act like one.”
“You know what-“
“Woah hey c’mon.”
I startle at the commotion, I was starting to doze off but Harry rushing out of his seat and someone else stepping between him and Mitch wakes me entirely.
“Let’s stand there get some space.” Niji recommends.
Everyone follows the group away and it’s Harry, myself, and my bag left.
He glances at me, “Don’t you start too.”
“I wasn’t…”
“I could see it in your face.”
“What the hell? I was just napping I don’t even know what’s going on except that you really are being a dick.”
“There you go!” He points. “I knew you wanted to say it.”
“Guess I’m joining the others…” I pick up my bag and walk to everyone else. They’re all venting their frustrations for Harry and comfort me that he was an asshole to everyone.
It gets worse on the flight when our pilot announces we couldn’t land in Paris.
“What’s going on?” I ask our hostess.
“The weather, we apologize for the inconvenience folks but there is high winds and a lot of fog so it’s not safe to fly.”
“I have a show tonight,” Harry stands and starts to advance on the poor woman. “I need to be in Paris before 4 where are we landing?!”
“Sir we’ll be landing in the Lille airport. This is good because we’re only a few hours from the city-“
“For fuck’s sake,” Harry runs his hand through his hair.
“I understand,” the woman looks back at me and I nod, letting her know I got it.
“Harry we’ll only be delayed by a few hours-“
“I don’t have time for a few hours. We need to set up and run tests in Paris! We were supposed to be there yesterday but somebody booked the wrong shit!”
It was true, his tour manager had booked us for Monday morning rather than Sunday morning but at the time it hadn’t been a big deal since the show was 7 on Monday and we got an extra day to relax. Now it made things more stressful.
“Fuck this,” Harry mutters. The other members on the plane roll their eyes and put on headphones, sighing and looking out the window. It was obvious to everyone but Harry that this was just a minor setback.
I decide to be the idiot who enters the lion’s cage. Harry sits in the back of the plane jiggling his leg and trying to connect his phone to service.
“Are you trying to call Morgan?” I ask.
“No I’m trying to call the pope.”
“He might be sleeping.”
He looks up at me and if I wasn’t aware of how stressed he was I would laugh. Confused doesn’t even cover his expression.
“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to get to the show-“
“We have like a five hour wiggle room it’s just a minor-“
“I can’t perform thrown off like this!”
“There’s no reason to be thrown off!” I try to keep my volume contained but I can feel eyes on my back.
“I don’t need you right now just go.”
“So I guess the one week rule is true.” I mutter.
“What’s that?” He asks with an i-dare-you expression.
“I said the one week rule of you being an asshole on tour, I guess that was true. I wish someone told me I would have skipped it.”
“Well you could have skipped the whole thing and nobody would notice.”
His comeback is muttered but cuts like a machete and I feel like the words were physically slung at me. I stand there stunned, my heart sinking as he continues to fiddle with his phone until the call connects.
The shock wears off quickly leaving me with the familiar heat of anger. This was how I reacted to Harry and his dickish ways. How dare he? Why the fuck does he think it’s okay to treat me like this when he wanted? I clench my fist as his voice rises with Morgan.
But beneath the anger is a raw hurt, his words struck a nerve. The same one Gray had struck once. I was replaceable, and all the efforts I’ve put into my career were unimportant and unappreciated.
I snatch the phone from Harry, annoyed at hearing him talk at Morgan.
“Hey Morgan it’s Y/N, yeah it’s a minor inconvenience but if you can get a bus or something to the airport it should be…”
I look to the hostess and she flashes me two fingers and a shake of her hand.
“About 2 hours to get into the city.” I finish. I nod along to Morgan’s questions and repeat details back. “Yeah just text me on my phone, not Harry’s. We’ll sort this out.”
“Thank you y/n. I’m really glad you’re there today.”
The words are a feather on a pile of nails, it’s nice to hear but Harry’s cruel words still ring in my ear.
I hand the phone back to him, expecting a thank you or an apology, but he just takes it and slinks down in his seat.
“It’s her isn’t it?” Sarah gets up on her seat on her knees to look back at Harry. I pause as I walk up the aisle. Is was who?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry mutters with his eyes glued to his screen.
“It is,” someone else says.
“Who?” Claire asks.
“Don’t take his mood personally,” Sarah says to me. “Paris is a touchy city for him.”
“Do you guys ever shut up?” Harry asks.
“No that’s why we’re your crew,” Mitch responds.
“We understand,” Sarah continues. Who was she talking about!? “Just don’t take it out on us. It’s not nice.”
Harry doesn’t respond but I sense a deflating happening on his side. Sarah’s words had gotten through to him but they’d just made me super curious.
I get filled in as we wait at the airport for our bus—Morgan had saved the day.
I hear about Harry’s french lover and how he got his heart broken a couple years ago. How the last time they were in France he had disappeared for a day and they’re all sure he visited her. How he can’t go to Paris without getting in a mood, either because he doesn’t get to see her or he’s anxious about seeing her.
“That’s like a city-specific booty-call.”
“Kinda,” Sarah laughs. “But I think he grew really attached to her so it’s a bit—he’s coming back.”
Harry stomps back to where we are, a tray of coffee in his hands. His team accepts it without a word. The world’s most famous non-verbal apology.
I watch him wearily. I still wanted a verbal apology from him, was that crazy? What he said was deeply hurtful. And hearing about his French lover makes me feel a way that I don’t like so I shut it out. I stick to the anger instead. It was easier.
He starts to warm up as we board the bus, cracking jokes with his band. I pick a seat near the front and stay there with my headphones. Aside from answering Morgan’s texts I pretend to be asleep. Eventually I do.
Someone flicks my hat, “C’mon sleepyhead! We’re in the city of love.”
“Wha?” There’s a crick in my neck and I feel rusty. But Harry’s right, we’d landed in Paris. He hovers above my seat with a jovial smile but it dies the longer I don’t return it. Serves him right. He doesn’t get to be cruel and wipe it away with coffee and a joke.
He gets the hint and boards off. I grab the last of the bags and join the group in the lobby where Morgan greets Harry like his long lost son.
“The trials aren’t over just yet,” he cringes. “I don’t know why Paris keeps fucking with me but we’re booked tight for rooms.”
“What does that mean?” Harry asks.
“Uhm well,” Morgan clears his throat. “The hotel overbooked. We have 3 rooms between the 8 of us. Luckily I have a mate who lives in town so I’ll crash at his. The rest of you need to share.”
“Morgan you’re fucking with me,” someone groans.
“No I’m sorry. I booked 5 with an en-suite but they screwed up. They’re refunding us half—I fought for that at least. I can use that to put others in another hotel if you’d like but so far I’ve only managed one room with two doubles.”
“Claire and I can share,” Sarah says.
“Good, Mitch you good with the boys?”
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
“Uh y/n…would you like me to book you an extra room somewhere? I don’t want you to be far from the team-“
“She’ll stay with me.” Harry says. “I’m performing tonight and then we’re moving to Amsterdam tomorrow afternoon so…”
I squirm a little as all eyes fall to me. Cool. Casual. “Sure.”
“Sorted! Let’s get these bags up and out of the way. I’ll have a car waiting down here in a half hour so you can all freshen up and meet me again.”
We trudge along and get off on our respective floors.
“The truth is,” Harry says as we scan ourselves into our room. “I’m probably not even gonna use the bed for the night so it’s all yours.”
“Oh,” I look around the room. It’s got a french touch and a lush queen in the middle. I could deal with not having to share it. I’m sure my fiancé back home would be happier too. Even though I want to ask why I don’t. “Okay.”
We settle our things in silence and a part of me wants to break it and start talking about the ride and Paris but I’m still not over his earlier behaviour so I continue giving the bare minimum. He doesn’t seem to care.
We head off for tests and I end up falling asleep in one of the booths. The tiredness was really creeping up. I could sleep through all the noise the band was making.
A particularly loud screeching from feedback wakes me up. I look down to the group, everyone’s mostly broken up while tech crew tapes down some wires and connects equipment. Harry sits on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet and texting away at his phone. He’s different from the grump this morning. He’s lighter.
Charlie catches me looking and waves, I wave back. There’s a pit in my stomach that grows heavier as the day passes into night.
Paris is not the loudest but super engaged. Everyone has some reference to Harry adorned on their clothing or their face and I can tell Harry has a special connection to the group.
“And finally,” Harry says into the mic. “This is a special song for my French friends. Tonight has been a blessing and I want to merci beaucoup for showing up!”
The crowd cheers as the intro to his song comes on. I listen to the lyrics for the first time since hearing the song last year and connect the dots to what Sarah said earlier. Maybe this was the girl. Maybe this was why he wasn’t sleeping at the hotel tonight.
As we’re leaving the venue and I’m going through a mental list of everything we could have forgotten, we spot a familiar face around back.
“Riley?” Mitch spots him first. “Is that you mate?”
“Hey,” Riley like, Harry’s old assistant Riley is standing with a couple other people who are having a smoke. He squashes his and greets the band who apparently still feel fondly when it comes to him. He looks the exact same but my feelings towards him are curdled after knowing what he’s like and how he left us high and dry.
That leaves Harry and I still hovering by the entrance alone, staring at the reunion by the time Riley comes up to us. I guess the band knew his friends because they get to chatting. I remember then, Riley ditched Harry to work for one of his friends. Must be a small world.
“Why the long face you two, c’mon still not holding a grudge are we?”
“Riley,” Harry addresses him. I stay silent, watching Riley from where I stand behind Harry.
“Nice to see Y/N’s still sticking around. How are you liking tour life?”
“Did you come to the show?” I find my voice.
“Yeah,” he nods all friendly like this was casual and he’s done nothing wrong ever. “I might be biased because I worked for the guy but Harry Styles is one of my top artist. And I’m in Paris until the Fall so why not come support him.”
“Well,” Harry says in the same deadpan voice. “Thanks for the support Riley.”
Riley glances over at him, smug. He knows he’s annoying Harry. So maybe I wasn’t the only one who got enjoyment out of doing that.
“Oh c’mon you’re still upset with me jumping ship? It’s been months! Y/N we’re cool right-“
Riley moves to walk past Harry and to me but Harry side-steps to stay in his way. I look at Harry. So does Riley, confusion sliding away to amusement.
“Oh I see,” he steps back, arms crossed. “Harry you sly dog you did it again.”
“We’re going now,” Harry says. “Try not to show up at any other shows.”
Harry tried to leave and I take the few steps to follow but Riley starts again.
“So y/n you fell for his trick too? I’m disappointed I thought you were immune.” Riley continues. “How’d he get you to the bedroom? Lots of booze? Or did you not even make it to the bedroom? Was it being treated like shit that did it for you?”
“What?” Now in the middle, I look between the two, wondering how this conversation took such a bizarre turn.
“You have some obsession with me Riley?” Harry steps back towards us. “Because you sure enjoy making up stories in your head with me starring in it. Don’t rope y/n into them either.”
“Not all stories,” Riley stays smug. “Some of them I’ve seen with my own eyes.”
They had to be talking about the last PA. The story Riley told me. Which means he thinks I…
“You really should watch what you talk about,” Harry reminds him.
Riley turns his attention to me, “Y/N I thought I warned you good enough. But I guess you put out as easily as the last one.”
“Riley whatever drama you’re trying to-“
“Mate,” Harry gets in Riley’s face so he can’t even look at me. I go quiet. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I get security to kick you out permanently.”
“Being the knight in shining armour doesn’t really suit you Haz,” Riley says. With one final judgemental look thrown my way he walks away. I have to lay a hand on Harry’s arm just to keep him from lunging at him but as soon as my hand makes contact he brushes me away.
This whole interaction was ego-bruising. “Why did he think-“
“Ignore him.” Harry cuts me off, his back still to me. His band, having watched the final scene unfold, now awkwardly shuffles back to us. “You okay?”
“Yeah but why-“
“Good.”
He cuts me off from asking anything and I don’t get to push because the group tries to defuse the situation by changing the subject. That includes the girls inviting me for drinks at their favourite parisian place. Harry disappears and so do those answers.
I try to poke whether the girls at dinner knew anything about his last PA but they barely met her. So I’m forced to eat oysters when they find out I’d never had them and the subject changes quickly to new and other things.
“So oysters thumbs up or down?” I’m asked as I slowly eat another.
“Weird texture…ehh?” I hover my thumb in the middle.
“Well too bad your partner—what’s his name again?” They ask. I tell her. “Ooh good name. Too bad Grayson isn’t here to cash in on all these oysters.”
They laugh and I think I’m not drunk enough to laugh as much with.
It’s the wee hours of the morning by the time we get back to the hotel. I crash alone as soon as my head hits the pillow.
***
After three weeks of tour I’m ecstatic to get back home. I wanted to sleep in the same bed for more than a day, I wanted a shower with even temperature, and I wanted a home-cooked meal.
And I wanted Gray.
I even catch an earlier flight—the night before rather than the next morning. I build up surprising Gray so much that I end up being the one who’s surprised when I come home to an empty flat.
I double check I’d set my phone back to the right time but it’s nearly 11. He must be out with friends, not a client.
I want to call him but still hold the idea of a surprise so I take a shower instead, put a load of laundry in, and make myself a sandwich. I crawl into bed at 1, still no Gray.
I end up tapping through our friends’ stories and find him in one. At least I knew where he was. But 2/3 photos I can find of him, Bex is standing too close for comfort.
I can tell by the photos there’s nothing going on. From his end. The most contact they have is his arm around her shoulder but for some reason all of this makes me mad. I’d broken it down to him that he couldn’t talk with people who had a thing for him because they would only give biased advice. But he didn’t listen. He said I was reading into it too much. And here she was, gazing up at him in every damn photo.
I hate that I wasn’t even home for a couple hours and already found something to annoy me.
I must have fallen asleep shortly after because I wake to poking on my side.
“Y/n? Is that really you? Y/n? Y/n?”
Gray.
“Hi,” I turn in bed. “I’m home early.”
“Shit!” He stands and sways back slightly. Wow, he was pissed. I hadn’t seen him this inebriated in a hot minute. “You didn’t say!”
“I know I-“
“I thought I imagined you.”
“Nope all here,” I grit my teeth. Why was I annoyed at my boyfriend for having a life, I scold myself.
Why is he so drunk and is this a new thing or did he only get this way cuz I’m not around?
“You finally came back to me,” he slurs. He smells like a brewery as he climbs into bed and I wish I could force a shower on him but I get swept up in his arms. “Hey you were right by the way.”
“About?”
“About.”
“Gray! What was I right about?”
“I’m getting to it! You. Were right. About Bex.”
“H-how do you know?” Weird coincidence. Or not?
“Sheshe she tried to kiss me!” He falls back laughing in bed. “I said nooo cuz I have a fiancée. Y/N. Oops. She was maaad.”
My heart drops. I knew it. That little bitch! And she had to go and try to kiss my man when he’s drunk! I officially didn’t like her. And the story itself adds to my irritation.
“Wow. Crazy. I’m tired as hell so I’m going to bed.”
I turn and leave my back to Gray. I didn’t want to see him this drunk, this chill about someone I warned him about trying to kiss him.
He splays on the bed where he is, draping an arm over me and pretty soon I hear his even breathing. That annoys me too, that he could fall asleep so quick. His arm is a weight over my body and I feel like I’m sinking into the bed and out of view.
***
It’s like Grayson and I have forgotten how to live with each other.
What starts out as minor annoyances turn into bickering pretty quickly. Our 1 bedroom flat begins to feel cramped and I desperately try to cling onto the idea of us because I can’t fathom us fizzling out like this but my fingernails are raw from scraping threads.
Work is the easiest it’s been in a while. With no set working hours I just spend a few hours everyday doing admin and running errands. Otherwise, unless somebody calls me I’m free.
I thought it would be great. So much free time with Gray, we could continue planning the wedding and catch up again. But he busies himself with work, and when we go on dates he doesn’t make much of an effort to talk. It’s like getting to know him all over again except he’s a broodier version of himself. It makes me mad and I end up picking fights.
I book brunch with some of the girls on the last Saturday I’m home, thinking it might help to have space from Gray and see other people. I thought everything would be fine. And it is, on a surface level—they treat me perfectly normal.
Except the only time they gave me space to talk about myself went something like this,
“So Y/N how are you? Busy touring how is that?”
“Oh yeah it was great! Really taxing but fulfilling too. I went to so many cities I haven’t visited even though I’ve been in London for like 7 years? Copenhagen was one of my fave-
“Ooh. Yeah I really want to visit Copenhagen this summer.”
“Oh I love Copenhagen…”
And I was officially asked out of sharing my own life. The rest of brunch was me reacting to everyone else’s stories and having the subject change quickly after I brought up anything about myself. When I mentioned Gray casually, I could feel the judgement. It’s like they were waiting on me to complain about him so they could pounce. It’s a weird and tiring energy.
As we all say our goodbyes I manage to catch Rebecca alone.
“Hey Bex,” I stop her on the edge of the group. “I know we haven’t talked much lately but I just want to say I don’t appreciate the moves you’re making on Gray.”
She raises a brow, “moves?”
“He told me you tried to kiss him. Those kinds of moves.”
Her face pinches. “Well someone has to make some.”
“Excuse me?” She tries to walk away but I rush to step in front of her.
“It’s no secret you and Gray are on the road to a breakup,” she has the audacity to look judgey in that moment and I want to slap the look off her face.
“What the fuck do you know about me and Gray? Back. Off.”
“Hey what’s going on?” One of our other friends drifts towards us and I notice they’re all looking our way.
“Just a friendly chat,” I say with sarcasm you can’t miss. At the same time Bex responds, “Y/n’s being delusional.”
I was going to get physical, I step back towards her but our friends get between us. I think they knew uni me, and knew I wasn’t afraid of confrontation.
“What the fuck y/n?” I was so tired of the look on their faces, like I was crazy.
“She tried to kiss Gray!” I reveal. “Last week! I’m just telling her to back off and I have every right to!”
It’s news to them. They turn to Bex who’s fidgeting with her sweater as a flush creeps up her neck.
“I-I he did! He tried to kiss me!”
I snort, “I don’t have time for your bullshit Rebecca. I’ve gotta go.”
“Oh yeah we all know you don’t have time y/n, you’re so busy these days.”
“Bex!” Someone scolds her.
“Somebody better teach her hand to keep her hand over her mouth because I will get through all of you if it means getting to her. You know you guys don’t know shit about my life. And you don’t even care to these days! Just because Gray told his sob side you guys treat me like-like shit!”
“That’s not true-“
“It is! You don’t even know my side! And I don’t care to explain because you lot are supposed to be our friends, not the judge and jury of my relationship.”
They stare blankly at me and nobody denies it so I continue: “I try so hard to stay involved in your lives knowing I can’t make it to half of our parties, I’m always messaging you guys and trying to stay on top of your socials to know what’s going on in your lives. I feel like I make all the effort and I’m just made the pariah.”
It feels good getting it off my chest. It feels amazing. I feel like I’m breathing an actual lungful of air now.
“We’re sorry if we made you feel that way.” I look at who’s said this. One of my oldest friends from uni. I scoff.
“You’re sorry if you made me feel that way?! I just said you did!”
“Sorry,” she says, quieter.
“Y’know it’s…it’s disappointing. I thought, when we became best friends first year of uni nothing could shake the bond we had. Apparently a man you met 3 years ago who vented to you about your best friend was just the thing.” All their faces are small and nobody makes eye contact with me. “Anyway, I do have to go. I have an appointment. Let’s not do this again.”
I walk away, proud of myself for saying what I had to and getting it off my chest. For sticking up for myself.
But the farther away I get, the more the adrenaline crashes through me and I end up walking onto the tube on shaky legs and collapsing in my seat. The reality of what’s happened falls into my lap and I see a bunch of burned bridges.
I spend a couple extra hours out after my appointment. I’m not going anywhere in particular, I let my feet carry me through the city as my mind continues to whir.
Harry texts me, asking me to stop by his place before I fly back for tour tomorrow evening. Apparently the concierge needed all his mail picked up and he needed a few of the items. It annoys me that he waited last minute to ask.
When I get home at 4, Gray’s vacuuming the flat. He stops it when I come in.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“How was brunch?”
It’s the way he asks. I know he knows. Which means a group chat exists with our friends and him without me. It feels like another betrayal. Who keeps their partner out deliberately? Who opens up their relationship like a hockey net, open for anyone to take shots at?
“Why’re you asking?” I feel another fight coming.
“I can’t ask you how brunch went?”
“Did you hear something? Let me guess, did Bex snitch?”
“No, chill out why would Bex snitch?”
“Grayson,” I look at him deadpan. “Don’t bullshit me. If you have any respect for me, which I know now is not a lot, don’t bullshit me.”
He sighs but doesn’t say anything more. Doesn’t lie and doesn’t tell the truth.
“So?” I ask. “Is there like a group chat or something?”
“Let’s just drop it-“
“No! I’m not dropping this when you brought it up. So is there? Did you disrespect me in front of all our friends by talking shit, and then do it even more by allowing them to ice me out in a group chat you knew I wasn’t part of?”
He doesn’t respond. My temper flares.
“The hurtful part isn’t even not being part of the chat, it’s that you didn’t tell me.”
It makes sense now. I was always initiating birthday messages there or privately, thinking everyone was forgetting to wish each other. Now I know I was public fool number one keeping that convo alive when they were probably all wishing each other elsewhere. God. I was an idiot!
“Look I’m sorry y/n, after you stopped showing up to things they just made a new one so they don’t bother you.”
“Oh is that why? Because that was active up until a few months ago. So according to the timeline it was probably when you fucked up and talked shit about me to all our friends and they decided I was a bitch and they should all cancel me! Well I hope you’re happy Gray!”
“I’m not! I’m sorry I didn’t realize-“
“Stop!” I slam my hand into the wall and it hurts harder than I anticipated but I bite back the pain. “Just admit it! You want to paint me as the bad guy so fucking hard, and I am in some ways I know I’m far from perfect Gray! But instead of talking to me like normal fucking people do, you just iced me out and then isolated me from the only friends I’ve ever made in this stupid fucking city!”
I can’t help the tears now even though I don’t want to cry. I want to rage and scream and throw things about but the hurt is bigger and it bubbles over the pot and sears my heart.
I leave my shopping bags where I’ve dropped them and walk back out of the door before he can come up with a response. I couldn’t stand to look at his face. He’s betrayed me over and over and the whole time I was desperately trying to show him I hadn’t changed and I loved him.
I walk the 40 minute to Harry’s and the early evening air helps me learn how to breathe again. I take in gulps of it and try not to cry. I didn’t want to waste tears on Gray and my stupid friends. I didn’t want to do any of this! I just wanted to press pause on my whole damn life and take a nap.
Outside his building I pull out my phone and make sure I don’t look crazed. My hand is killing me and I ignore the bruising blooming fresh.
The concierge spots me just as I enter, and we make small talk about Harry on tour and his last few shows that would happen in London. I make a note to mention to Harry to send him tickets—apparently his niece listened to him.
He helps me load a cart with Harry’s mail and take it upstairs.
It had been over a month since I’d been in here and it’s weird that it feels comforting. Or maybe that was just after two weeks of feeling like a stranger at home.
Harry’s words on the plane echo back to me. Not that I was appreciated here either.
If there was ever a time to go back home to the States, it would be now. But that felt like running away. I had to sort my life out here before I made any rash decisions.
With a sigh I dump the paper onto the coffee table. After sorting what looked like bills from letters from miscellaneous I spot the two envelopes Harry wanted and put it to the side. I open the boxes next and locate his custom orthopaedic inserts he asked me to grab too.
I take the extra mail to my office to sort out. In the familiar closed quarters where I’d spent too much time in the last year rolling through a hundred phases, my feelings edge out of me. I try to wipe the tears and continue on but I end up pathetically sat over on the chair crying until I can barely breathe.
It’s pathetic because this is the first space I’ve felt I had the space to cry. And it was where I worked. Where, apparently, I wouldn’t even be missed.
New tears. Less breaths.
“Get it the fuck together,” I say between gasps. “That’s. Enough.”
Through my own self-talk I manage to calm down enough to finish the work. It’s half past 8 by the time I get back to the main living area. I get water to rehydrate myself and stay sitting on the couch staring into space for another ten minutes. I don’t think I had any more tears to cry. Just a rock in place of my heart and another bigger one attached to my ankle.
“Okay,” I finally get the courage to head home.
The end isn’t big and explosive. It’s a simple statement: I think we both know what needs to be done now.
I don’t fight him this time. I have no fight left in me. I just nod.
“I’ll sleep on the couch and still drop you off tomorrow,” he reassures me.
“Just sleep in bed,” I couldn’t even muster enough energy for expression. My flat tone is how I felt. “You don’t fit on the couch. And I’ll get myself to the airport.”
“No I’ll take you. I’ve already made the arrangements-“
“You don’t have to worry about me anymore Gray,” I say. He looks crestfallen and it irks me that he does. I didn’t want him to be sad, it was ridiculous but it was.
“Well I’ll take you anyway.” He says then turns back to the TV.
I wash the day off and make sure everything is packed for my early flight tomorrow. As I lay in bed alone I realize this might be the last time I ever sleep here. Like this. I would have to move all my shit out. Oh god, the wedding. I’d have to cancel my dress shopping dates and the cake testing, the invites we were still designing.
We’d only told our friends it was going to be a winter wedding, I’m glad we never gave them a date. Nobody had marked their calendars. Nothing about us would been permanent.
I look down at the simple ring on my hand. Everything but that.
I keep it on.
I’m still awake when Gray comes to bed but I pretend to sleep. My mind can’t stop making lists to answer: what now.
I’m in a fugue state all night and the only thing that clears the fog is the rays of sunshine peeking through the blinds in the morning. I hadn’t slept a wink.
Quiet, so I don’t wake Gray, I get up and dressed. I order a taxi and try not to linger on the hurt of doing this alone. Of Gray waking up to an empty bed.
The flight to Madrid is a couple hours and I miraculously nap through it. Everyone is happy to see me when I get back, especially when I present them with snacks they’d all said they missed from home while we were on tour. With them in hand, I’m an angel in their eyes.
I hand Harry his mail and he stops me. His eyes don’t stop examining my face.
“What happened to your hand?” He asks.
I’d picked up a bandaging kit and ice pack at the airport and with the help of Youtube, wrapped it up. It had started to bruise even worse but I couldn’t be arsed to deal with it even though it hurt. Nothing a few painkillers couldn’t fix.
“I accidentally got it caught in a door,” I lie easily. I had practiced. “It’s nothing.”
“Did you get it checked?”
“No.”
“Make sure you do, tonight’s show.”
“Sure. It’s really nothing though.”
“You sure?” He asks. His gaze is unnerving.
“Mhm,” I nod.
He’s silent, eyes scanning my face. Right as I decide I couldn’t take the scrutiny he asks, “Why were you crying last night?”
I stare, unsure what kind of trick he was playing.
“Sorry.” He laughs to himself. “I have one of those uh, motion sensor cameras in the entryway. I turn it on while I’m away so it sends like, automatic clips if there’s movement. I saw you come in and leave.”
“Oh.” Shit. Think fast. Think fast. “I uhm, got into it with some friends I had a meal with. Y’know…they were being a bit icy cuz of what they’ve heard. I’m over it though.”
“Yeah?” His eyes flicker down to my hand.
“Yeah.” I hold his green eyes for a moment, to reassure him I’m okay. I don’t know why he cares, maybe because I looked like a right mess last night as I left. How embarrassing. But I do my best acting job ever.
Satisfied, he lets me go. I return to the group asking for updates and any stories they wanted to share. Before long I’m laughing along and creeping out of my depressed mood. But something heavier still lingers.
***
TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77
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gerogerigaogaigar · 29 days
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In the wake of the Drake/Kendrick beef its become clear that a lot of people here don't know what hip-hop is and/or don't know how to listen to it. Instead of dunking on people's ignorance I'd like to offer up an educational opportunity. Hip-hop can be difficult to get into if you come from an exclusively white and rock oriented upbringing. It simply listens differently than other popular music and you have to learn how to listen to it. This is honestly true of all music, but white america grows up with modern rock and pop that more or less derive their structure from tin pan alley music of the early 1900's. Hip-hop is a derivative of the 70's disco scene. Disco had an even more dance oriented feel than the funk that it spun off from. And funk was already more rhythm heavy than the Soul and Rhythm & Blues that birthed the funk scene.
Hip-hop is, first and foremost, a black artform and I am not black. So I'm not trying to position myself as a community ambassador or anything, but I do get that there are some barriers that white suburban kids face when it comes to getting into hip-hop. I also know that I am very, very into hip-hop so being a suburban white kid is clearly not an excuse for dismissing an entire artform. And racism isn't something you are it's something you do. So its time to stop talking about Weird Al and Eminem* whenever someone asks if you like rap. Right now it is time to learn how to listen.
*all due respect to eminem, he's actually really good, but we aren't talking about white rappers right now
When listening to rap one of the first things you need to pay attention to is the rapper's flow. A rapper's instrument is their voice, but unlike what you may be used to rap vocals are part of the percussion. In the songs included below, try to listen for how the vocals create a rhythmic counterpoint to the instrumentals. and listen for how rappers use rhyme as well as rhythm to create a pleasing cadence. Don't worry about what they're saying, listen to how they say it.
All Caps We start with All Caps, an absolute beast of a song. MF DOOM meets the frantic energy of the beat with a steady even flow that feels effortless. DOOM interlocks Rhyme schemes and uses matching vowel sounds throughout the verses to create the illusion that he is just dropping thoughts off the top of his head. The maneuver he pulls in the last stanza always blows my mind. making a *pop* sound to onomatopoetically match the vowel sound in pot, got, and snot while also rhyming troubles and bubbles.
A Milli Next up is Lil Wayne. Much like DOOM he can bury rhyme schemes for days, but instead of a smooth even flow he goes in bursts of frantic energy to contrast the very steady beat.
Ultimate Denzel Curry is probably one of the best in the trap scene and Ultimate is an early track where he is nailing the lazy beat, angry delivery thing. his shouted couplets overlay the trilled snare to create a texture that is actually very typical of trap music.
Izzo (H.O.V.A.) Jay-Z has a triumphant tone and a sing-songy cadence to his voice. He tends to match the percussive parts of his raps to the downbeat of the drums and it further emphasizes the strings from the Jackson Five sample and his more melodic lilting.
Bad Character You might notice that Quasimoto sounds... uh... well its Madlib with his voice pitched up. Weirdly Quas has a totally different cadence than Madlib. The timbre of his voice is so distinctive but he raps so casually. It almost feels like he is disconnected from the beat, but he's still right on it. It is a weird quirky atmosphere.
ATliens ATliens is the first song on the list with multiple rappers on it. Big Boi is a master of the straightforward 90's gangsta style while Andre 3000 has a supernatural sense for where he is on the beat that allows him to dodge and weave around it. the two of them work together by giving a back and forth between the extreme steadyness of Big Boi and the extreme wonkiness of Andre 3000.
Protect Ya Neck The Wu-Tang Clan had a lot of members and Protect Ya Neck has all of them on it. It would take forever to explain the different styles of the whole Clan so I'm just gonna let you hear it all yourself. even if you can't tell them all apart it is still pretty easy to tell when they pass the mic.
Ready Or Not Wyclef Jean and Ms. Lauryn Hill are two of the best rappers, and also Pras is here. The interpolation of soul hooks that show off Lauryn Hill's singing skills were standard for the group, but Hill could switch from singing to rapping on a dime. Even when they are rapping there is a sense of soul music underlying their music.
Life's A Bitch Another track with a laid back beat. I couldn't tell you when Nas takes a fucking breath in this song. he just goes and goes. everyone on this is so smooth.
Fix Up, Look Sharp Finally I had to get some really rowdy shit on here. Dizze Rascal's flow is so bombastic. he hits every downbeat as hard as possible and almost drowns out the steady snare-kick beat with his voice alone. Like Jay-Z he is also very sing-songy.
To Be Continued ===> Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part4 | Part 5 | Part 6
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mdhwrites · 2 months
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Have you seen the leaked TOH pilot and pitch bible yet? IMO it’s crazy how most of it is better than the final product.
I have! And... I don't know if I entirely agree with that.
What I found most fascinating about it is that a lot of the contradictions and issues of scope with TOH that doomed it are still in the pitch bible itself. Just some quick examples of what I'm talking about: When talking about themes, they talk about Fantasy versus Reality but it's as shallow as it is in the show. After all, one of the episode concepts pitched within it features a plot that has Luz literally going "This is just like in my fanfiction!" and being better able to handle it because of that.
It builds up the emperor of the land and Belos (known as Oberon) when talking about them but NONE of the plotlines include Oberon in the episode pitches or even mention the coven system for that matter. They are still barely a thing to the show with the only episode concept about that part of the show being the one about William.
An utter lack of real stakes like how King has to face the deep crises of a decision of either being a lackey to the people he used to run with while also losing any chance to ever reclaim his lost power... Or he can save Eda and Luz and lose the chance to work with these people again. That's not really a compelling decision, is it?
The pitch also claims that the show will mostly be about Luz and Eda's relationship and how Luz's determination will push Eda to be a better person... And most of the episodes pitched are still not actually about the two spending time together. Just Eda making Luz upset so she goes off to do her own thing, just like the same problem as in the actual series.
You actually have MORE characters in this version which sucks harder for trying to narrow things down, especially since more of them are disconnected from each other than before. At least Boscha, unlike Pascha, has a connection to literally anyone in the main cast.
You also have stupidity with your magic still. "Look! I need to work hard to make small objects float!" And apparently that's enough to make all of Hexside lose their fucking minds. WHY!? In 90% of settings, that is as basic as the light spell Luz learns. It's why it's one of the first spells Harry learns.
Oh and let's not forget "Almost all known portals to the human realm have been severed" but apparently Amity has access to one of those known portals freely enough to attend two schools. It's a small thing but it would cause problems in theory.
BUT.
I will give credit to this: Luz is MUCH more compelling in this version. I think if there is something that is just unequivocally true, it's that. She is way less inoffensively nerdy, instead her interests being more upfront and troublesome, helping explain why that would be why she is rejected and not because, you know, she puts people in danger. Also her rise to power is just better.
Arguably, Luz in canon is a chosen one essentially from episode FOUR onwards. Now, this is up for debate but being given a power almost out of nowhere, with no training, that no one else has, is usually a sign of a chosen in a narrative. Episode 4 is when she gets the light glyph. She doesn't work for it, it's not a big character growth moment, etc. like that. She mostly just oops into it. Making it that Luz ACTUALLY has to work for her magic and the show actually has to explore how the magic works, making it so she has something to learn is just strictly better, especially for the concept of her learning to be a witch. Eda would actually be able to teach her something instead of shrugging and going "Welp, good luck!"
I will say that the bible does also lean more into an adventurous aspect though. This version of episodes would easily be more fantastical and include more magic in them which would help the Isles not feel so much like our realm. I will say the fact that there's also active anti-human prejudice also would be good because then Luz being human would, you know... Matter. Not that the Isles is really given a personality even here besides the oppression they're theoretically under. It's still a very generic fantasy setting.
A lot of the rest though? It's really not that unique or different from the show itself. Lilith is almost exactly the same, Tibbles is just Gus but a demon, there are slightly more restrictions on things like being human or magic but, you know, the show didn't care about its one law, why would it care about three? Even Amity, who does look better on here, is only because it's on paper. This is literally just Amity's pitch in S1 after all. All the reasons people loved Amity are here.
Conceptually it is fine but I am surprised about how not only this got picked up but also how it was greenlit so heavily as to get a pilot animatic, with voice acting, based on these concepts. There's just some very clear cleaning up that needs to be done, basic questions on its own setting and own logic that isn't even playing into the comedy/fantasy angles that could let you let it pass. It's not all of them or even the majority but a skeptical prereader could even raise these basic sorts of inconsistencies like the ones I brought up above. After all, this is half a season's worth of episodes pitched and a fifth of them are still going to Amity and more of them have Luz directly interacting with King than they do Eda.
There's a final thing I have to bring up due to it being why I think the show changed so drastically from this pitch bible to its final form: This is way more complicated. TOH already has extremely decompressed storytelling and too many elements working in tandem. Meanwhile, every character is MORE complicated in this one and less connected to each other, necessitating that each, except maybe Eda, will take more time to get through their stuff. The writing team either had to sharpen how much they could do in an episode or simplify and congregate elements. We see this a LOOOOT in S2A, especially Escaping Expulsion, where it seems the writers went "Even with three whole seasons planned, we don't have enough time to do everything we want to, the way we like to, so we need to start cutting and simplifying even more than before."
One example of this that's really easy: In the pitch bible, Willow is a random witch who lives near Eda. Well that means she'll likely either take time out of a couple episodes as she's introduced or take up an entire episode just for herself. Tibbles is also just on their own, like in the show. Introducing both of these characters is not really an option. However, put them both into Hexside and suddenly you can introduce three characters at the same time organically, like we saw with I Was a Teenage Abomination.
Luz just being gifted magic is another element to this. Her having to actually experiment for every spell and having to have a real system to her spells limits what she can do but also means spending a LOT more time on her magic. You can't just have a flower open up and give her the glyph of the day as easily, nor have her be able to throw her spells around as she wants. Making it so she just needs reams of paper and/or a marker makes it a lot easier and simpler to have her start casting magic.
This version of TOH would have SHATTERED under its own scope while the current version mostly bends and cracks from it. However, if people do use this to go "FUCK DISNEY EVEN HARDER!" I won't be surprised. Grand scope ALWAYS looks better on paper than it does in action. It sounds epic and multi-faceted and complex. The problem is that it still has to fit its format and it is MUCH harder to execute on than a more simple concept.
There's a reason the only perfect project is the one you never do because you can promise the world without ever having to deliver. So, while it's nice to see an earlier version, I am by no means going to say this would have been a better version of TOH.
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Sorry for anyone hoping for a link to the pitch bible btw. I just don't have one as I got given it as a document.
I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!
I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.
A Twitter you can follow too
And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.
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lakesbian · 5 months
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rachel and alec are specifically interesting to me re the undersider Situations as of early worm posting. thats right for the first time in my life im saying rachel specifically is interesting to me. everyone on the team is at least a bit lonely i think but it's so loud and obvious with rachel, because she's loud and obvious about everything. she's a disabled teen who's been homeless since she was very young. she was deeply abused by the foster home system, and the legal system responded to her wounded and confused outbursts as an autistic child by criminalizing her and hunting her down. she can't exist in public without the cops being called. society has done everything to demonstrate that it doesn't want her, and then blames her when she doesn't trust people.
brian says that the undersiders are the closest thing she can have to friends. alec says that they're the closest thing she has to a family. (which is an entire can of worms in itself wrt alec's relation to the undersiders.) and both of those things are true, but there's also something so tragic in their assumption that their tenuous connection w/ rachel where she can only just barely tolerate them is the best she can ever have. they're the only people she can even remotely trust to have her back or treat her somewhat fairly instead of fucking her over, but they're still fundamentally considering her beyond close connection, less of a friend or someone to attempt befriending and more of someone to keep on a leash. of course taylor is the only one to actually get close to her--taylor is the only one who tries to engage with her, as a person, on rachel's own terms, instead of begrudgingly tolerating her. rachel :(
& alec is the other team member who's in the Extra Lonely Isolation Club...he gets silly with the team sometimes, he has his little teenage banter w/ brian, he and lisa are clearly very familiar with each other in the way ppl who've been living together for a year and a half are. it's really good for him. it's the first time in his entire life he's gotten to have a consistent home with his own belongings, and he's getting to have it because he's part of the undersiders. the undersiders are literally the first people in his entire life that approach counting as a friendship. he gets SO FUCKING MAD!!! when he leaps to assuming that rachel stole the money from them. he gets So Mad he immediately goes "i vote we kill her" and then goes on a seething rant about how he wouldn't have thought she'd do that since the undersiders are the closest she has to family, but apparently she would. and the projection is so obvious! he's not wrong about applying the sentiment to rachel, but there's a reason he goes farther than brian's "closest she has to friends" and into the more intimate territory of "closest she has to family"--the two-way street there means that the undersiders are the closest he has to family, and the idea of being betrayed by one of them hurts enough to trigger the aggression he always displays when he's feeling vulnerable.
and he still doesn't tell them Jack Shit. he obviously lies to them all the fucking time, because brian is under the impression that he "dropped out" of school, when the reality is that he never went. even lisa brings up heartbreaker to taylor without any awareness that he's the father of the boy she's been living with for over a year. alec spends most of the early arcs in worm in dissociative, depressed fugues. the other undersiders have lengthy conversations where they're sharing personal info and he's just trailing along behind them, not speaking for so long that even the readers can forget he's there. lonely broken little shell of a boy who is so empty all of the time and does not even know it. aisha cannot get here fast enough if i have to see him being depressed and disconnected for one (1) more chapter i will explode
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lynaferns · 4 months
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BIOMáquina: Sense of Living
Chapter 1: Stranger danger.
Ver. [ENGLISH / ESPAÑOL]
The first meeting! In a world where humanity has confined themselves in encapsulated cities to let the outside world heal, our protagonist, Fern, breaks into the forgotten abandoment facility of Fazbear CO. in search for old materials and scrap to sell. But something's very off with this place, like the constant rotting smell that's in the air... (No, it's not Afton, there's no Afton in this AU, this is very DCA centered).
I have to mention, I never had the intention of writing this. But after I finished reading I see you, Sundrop! by @shirajellyfish (Thank you again @/cipher-the-sidhe for recommending it to me! I'm too shy to tag I want to cry EDIT: it's tagged now) I got motivated to write the first chapter of my AU and doing it my way. The early version of my BIOMáquina Sun may have some inspirations from ISYS's Sundrop, but I plan for him to develop by the end of the story into something more close to canon. Sassy, not the mean sassy tho.
I appreciate feedback about the english adaptation. I think I did fine but still, I'm not a native speaker, some parts may be weirdly worded. I'll be posting the Spanish version too, so you can judge my writing in two lenguages.
AU, DCA centered (but Moon doesn't get mentioned in this chapter) ...and mostly Sun centered too, Sun fnaf, OC, Selfinsert, Character & OC, platonic, friendship, slowburn (probably), OC is a potty mouth, Sun has amnesia, nonbinary/pangender Main Character, labs and abandonment facility, retrofuturistic world, steam/dieselpunk themed.
The first post where I showed this AU and Sun and Moon's designs. There's info about the world and characters, not necessary to enjoy the story but maybe you want an idea about this AU.
BIOMáquina AU Tumblr archive, with all the posts and asks.
Youtube Playlist wich has like half of Portal's ost. I have a especific order for the songs but you can put it on mix if you want.
Note: even though I try to keep things light some things may be triggering for some readers so I'm putting here the warnings just in case. Please tell me if it needs any additional tag.
TW: implied death, near death experiences, implied abuse (non sexual), panic/anxiety, paranoia, robot gore, violence.
Wordcount: 12,874
06:23 Thursday, Weather: clear.
It's been a long time since anyone has been here. The place has been reclaimed by nature over time, not completely consumed but enough to assume that it has been around a decade without any humans moving around.
Until today.
A small hovercraft vehicle is approaching in the distance. Today, instead of their usual destination, Fern decided to take another route and explore a little. She heads to the building she has seen in the distance. The abandoned facilities of Fazbear CO. She shouldn't be snooping around an abandoned building, much less one that seems to have been totally forgotten by the world, but Fern already had experience in breaking into dangerous and abandoned places, so it was okay (no, it was not).
She looks at the place for a while before parking their vehicle. A thought of 'Why not?' incites them to enter, and that's what she does. After struggling with the entrance locks she manages to open the doors. It looks like an automatic door but with a manual system for when the power is out, it's a pretty old design. The door stays open.
06:39
Fern enters inside, it's all dark, the only light being the one that comes through the door. She always carries their backpack loaded with all the basics she needs for when he goes out for materials (trash) or exploration (for more trash). She takes out a flashlight and inspects the place. She notices that next to them is an old robot disconnected and degraded by the passage of time, possibly unable to turn back on. It seems that this bot was in charge of guarding the entrance.
Advancing through the abandoned facility, Fern finds more disconnected bots. She's not with the right equipment to dismantle them and take their valuable parts, if there is anything salvageable from these robots. She makes mental notes and keeps going. The place is worse on the inside than the outside, somehow the dirt and weeds have managed to get in and grow in the most random places.
She finds a guide map of the place, it appears to be larger on the inside than it looks from the outside, much larger than one would expect. There are four upper floors and six lower ones, the upper floors makes a circumference leaving an empty space in the center, they are factory and assembly areas for bots/animatronics, tools, electronic devices... all equipment from the Fazbear brand, they have always made their own material. On the ground floor (L0) where Fern is, it seems to be the unloading area, cargo transport vehicles, offices and power generator on the upper floors. The first two lower floors appear to be more offices, boiler room, power generator room for the lower floors, laboratories, and... another animatronic assembly area.
...The last four floors are blurred out but you can read the words 'AI testing'. Did the test rooms have to be that far down? And why 4 entire floors of the building?
There is an annotation:
Authorized personnel only. Any unauthorized personnel who passes from the restricted area will be subject to a dismissal sanction.
Oho... now Fern wanted to go in there. Why would they hide that part? What do they have to hide? Knowing the company Fazbear Entertainment, a lot. It would be cool to be one of the few people to know what's down there, even if it remains as secret as before because Fern doesn't want to be reported or arrested, leaving the city without permission is already a reason for that. But before going to the deeper floors, better take a quick look at the upper ones first, their nature makes them want to keep an order to explore the place in the most efficient way (that she can think of).
As the map said, everything up there is material and assembly, some rooms even have narrow windows that let in some light through their gaps at the top of the wall... where you can't look outside, but at least they had some natural light in their work areas, those who worked up here at least... Fern looks around, it's a mess, there are papers and metals scattered on the floor... It seems that some of them left in a hurry, due to the misplaced chairs and tables... Fern makes a mental note to stop by again and take a better look at the old tools before heading home.
Hm? The central area hasn't been seen. Fern assumed that the part surrounded by the building would be visible from a window or that there would be an entrance to a flat area, but there appears to be none. Why would they waste so much space? Or maybe they weren't wasting it. Maybe there was something else there but it was inaccessible from the surface floors.
Fern didn't waste another moment to get down to the lower levels. The power generators seemed out of order, she wasn't going to be able to use the elevators. She wasn't planning on it either, They may possibly collapse over the time they have been sitting there without maintenance. What she planned was to save flashlight power if the generator could light the way. Oh well. Maybe the other generator on the lower floors is still functional.
...
It's not. Well, she had to try it. Fern would have felt stupid if the generator would had worked and by simply not checking she would have wasted the flashlight battery foolishly. Exploring the floor a bit more before continuing down she finds a small kitchen room. Oh? Was there a kitchen on the map? Fern doesn't remember, she should have taken a photo of the map now that she stops to think about it. There should be at least one map on each floor, she'll take a photo of the next one she sees.
Going down the stairs she finds the assembly rooms and laboratory that seems more advanced than the upper levels. These looks a little less messy than the previous floors. It's still noticeable that people left in a hurry, leaving the chairs and tables in any position and dropping objects along the way, but it seems that at least they cared about storing hazardous materials in the closets, all messy but at least not exposed... some doors aren't even closed properly- look, I'd better shut up and continue.
07:12
She finally reaches the end of the floor. There are no more stairs, just an elevator that takes to the restricted area (floors: L3, L4, L5 and L6), which means she needs the generator running... or... she can force their way through the elevator doors with a crowbar... opening the emergency hatch... and slipping through the gap between the elevator and the wall, which is conveniently one of those old-fashioned designs with bar steps on the wall (Nowadays these spaces are not left unless the elevator is very large and/or has been built with plenty of space). She goes down the wall stairs to the next floor which is also closed, so she has to force the elevator's security doors again. This time it's more complicated, she has to force the door without having a supporting floor since all there is is the circular wall, the beams that support the elevator structure and the void of the pit. Fern hangs from a beam near the door, digs the crowbar between the two doors with their feet, presses against the crowbar using their legs, and pushes their way through. After opening the doors enough, the crowbar slips from between their feet and falls into the pit. Fern watches as it falls, pressing their lips, and waits for the *clinggg* sound it makes when it reaches the bottom, '...hhhhhah, I'll have to go down for it later' she thinks.
After forcing the door a little more with their hands, just enough to pass through, she is finally inside, on level L3. Oh! And the first thing she sees is a complete map, good! She can take a photo with their phone so she won't get lost. From what it seems, this map reveals that there is indeed a central area of the facilities in use. For some reason to access the center of the building you have to go down to the deepest floors and from another elevator go up to the central area... weird. The design of the facility seems made to keep something as far away from the outside as possible, with all these turns and different elevators that they make you take to get to a place that would be so easy to access if only they had put one or two doors in the ground floor or upper. There was definitely something there, Fern had no doubt, maybe she was theorizing too much and it was just a strange design choice, but what a strange design choice, there is something there for sure and Fern was going there.
According to the map, the four lowest floors contain... a good bunch of animatronic storage cells, wow. Wait, now that she stops to take a closer look, that's a lot of cells. There are three or four larger rooms compared to the rest, 'daycare', it says. ...Fern didn't like the implications of that, she didn't like seeing the cells, daycares and laboratories so close to each other. If this is what's in the first restricted floors to the unauthorized, what could be deeper? For God's sake, what did they do with the children?
Fazbear Entertainment's animatronics were made specifically to deal with children despite their questionable AI performance. The daycares could have been to test how the animatronics behave with real children, okay, but why three entire daycares on the same floor? And there are at least two more on the floor above. It would be better understood if there were only assembly and repair rooms next to the cells, but laboratories... right in front of the daycares? Shady, very shady. Don't like it, don't like it a bit.
The lower floors are more littered with broken robots than the ones above. Somehow the place is more in ruins than the surface floors, which are more exposed to the outside. But the doors seem to have higher security with card readers, some broken, not all but they seem to be able to open. Going down the stairs to the L4th floor she began to see a different bot design half-assembled, this could be an animatronic design they were working on. On this floor she only sees half-assembled endoskeleton pieces and blueprints for said robot along with promotional posters of a daycare mascot... with a... Sun...? theme. Orange, yellow and red shades.
Fern approaches one of the blueprints, 'DaCaAtt/ProtoType_Model_N15', the N15 has been underlined several times in red and there are notes all over the blueprints. It's... a clown animatronic- rather a jester, with an astral theme? The head seems to represent a sun with the right half of its face being a crescent moon, as in those representations of the sun and the moon together, the moon looking sideways and the sun facing the front... only that, here it's like they have merged two faces into one, leaving the nose crooked to the side. All the unfinished endoskeletons seem to belong to this model. It is a somewhat extra complicated design, it has a lot of joints, especially in the face, seems like they wanted to go further with this design.
It seemed a little much to Fern for a children's animatronic daycare attendant. She understood that they were trying to make him look like the friendly mascot on the poster, but Fern could come up with a couple of ideas to simplify the design of the face: a screen with facial animations, for example. And why so much complexity in the robots interior? The more she looked at the blueprints, the more it seemed to them that she was looking at a disproportionate recreation of the human skeleton in metal. She continued advancing through the facilities until she found the next stairs to floor L5.
...At the bottom of the flight of stairs is a disconnected animatronic- rather broken, it's the sun. It seemed to be crawling up the stairs... its legs and the back of its head were busted, as if they had tried to stop it from going any further by hitting it with something. Peeking through the hallways, Fern finds more sun animatronics lying on the way or against the wall, damaged, some are whole, others missing chunks or entire limbs. She touches one of the robot bodies with their foot, it doesn't move, as expected. There is a gray cord and a piece of plastic sticking out from under the animatronic's hand, Fern uses their foot again to pull the cord out from under the hand. It's a torn, stained and mauled ID card, the string is broken as if it had been torn from something, neither the photo nor the name of the former owner can be identified. It's Fern's now. She should keep their eyes open in case of seeing more cards in better condition, if she can get the generators working she could open their way to more places. If they were to be useful.
Moving down the hallway she stops to look at the poses in which the animatronics were turned off; some of them have their faces intact enough to see an expression of terror them. None of them seemed to be going in a specific direction, just... running away. They were afraid. How advanced was their AI to simulate fear? Weren't they prototypes? No developed AI is put into robot prototypes, although well, that is a recent norm in robotics, who knows how old this place is.
Now that she realizes, there is a fairly dominant smell in the air since she came down the elevator. Fern thought it came from the labs and assembly rooms, because of the old metals and chemicals, but it has gotten stronger as she goes. Like something rotten mixed with rust and motor oil.
Fern is starting to think that she would like a friend to explore this place with. The deeper she goes, the more uneasy the place gets, and the more noticeable is the lack of fresh air.
She checks out the map, from the path she has taken it seems that she is approaching one of the daycares. Where the entrance should be there is a handful of sun animatronics in a pile blocking the door that's full of scratches and bumps. It seems that they tried to force it open, you can see the desperation in the wear and tear on their hands.
Hopelessness.
It's the word that best fits seeing this situation.
Fern feels a chill run down their spine and their stomach turns. She continues forward. More animatronic bodies disconnected or destroyed, there were almost no animatronics in the storage cells, they had all tried to escape. Upon reaching the floor L6, the number of robot bodies lying around seems to decrease. It seems that they were all already stored in their chambers, or they managed to get them in and disconect them before panic set in... or revealed themselves. No, this didn't look like robot rebellion. Maybe they found out something, a rumor that got out of hand? Maybe they found out that they were going to disconnect them forever and they panicked... Fern wouldn't blame them.
Peeking through the glass of one of the cells she could see a group of sun animatronics, all in their respective cabins on the wall, connected by a head cable. Some are standing leaning against one of the walls of their cabin, have a safety belt holding them in place, others are sitting on a seat in the cabin, and others are directly sitting on the floor. They are disconnected, turned off, obviously. The floor is padded with colorful sections and there are old pillows and stuffed animals on the floor. The rest of the chambers are the same, some with empty spaces. The number of animatronics lying on the floor in panic positions is less, rather they are sitting against the wall or simply lying on the floor in a more peaceful way. They either gave up or were somehow convinced to shut down.
07:38
Finally Fern reaches the elevator that takes you to the center of the facility. This elevator is more hidden than the rest and appears to be more advanced, Fern didn't seem to know if it was going to be as easy to open as the rest... ah- wait- their crowbar. She has forgotten to go look for their crowbar, which is at the bottom of the second elevator's pit... and to go look for it she would have to go back upstairs and down the stairs of the pit because she can't open the doors from the lowest floor as she had planned because she doesn't have their crowbar.
Fern.
You're stupid, man.
“Aaaaaggh...” she groans, looking up to the ceiling. She sighs. Before leaving the room she looks around to see if there is anything that could be used to force the doors and their eyes fall on the elevator again, it has a light. Wait, it has light? It can't be, the generators don't work. Unless there is a third generator for this elevator... She approaches the button panel, indeed, the lights above glow slightly, but how is it functioning? The entire place should be shut down. She decides to press the button just to try it out and a few seconds later the doors open, the light from inside illuminating the room along with Fern's flashlight.
Even though it seems to work, Fern didn't like the idea of using it. The elevator that took her to the lower floors was as dangerous as the others but at least she didn't had to use it to get down (Although it could have perfectly fallen as soon as you stepped foot inside, you idiot), but this one she was going to have to use it to open the doors to the next floor unless she finds something to use as a crowbar. However, this elevator did seem to be in better condition than the other. Maybe if she only made it go up one floor she could access the rest of the place from there.
Fern walks into the elevator. The floors available from bottom to top are: L6, LC2, LC1, C0, C1, C2, C3 and C4, there are no Lows 5, 4 and 3, C it'll be for “Center” just as L is for “Low”. She hesitates before pressing the button for LC2, a few seconds and the doors close, the elevator makes some screeching noises as machinery that hasn't moved for a long time starts working again until it suddenly begins to ascend. It moves non-stop, the noise it makes is worrying but it doesn't stop. As fast as the doors open, Fern crosses them and turns to the elevator, waiting for it to collapse and fall back to the bottom. It doesn't, the doors just close after a few seconds. If while she's at another part of the building she hears a crash noise in the distance, Fern will assume that the elevator has fallen and therefore will have to look for something that can be used as a crowbar.
For some reason there's no map of this part of the facility. There has always been one right out of the elevator or down the stairs, but this place doesn't have one. Weird, maybe all the employees in this area had their own? Or they knew it by heart. No, the first thing makes more sense.
Moving through the hallways, laboratory rooms, assembly rooms, etc, the floors seem to be the same as those already visited, but more advanced? The walls and doors are of higher quality and security, and the laboratory equipment, tools and others seem to be of the good-good ones... and expensive, but good, and quality. The central floors seem to be the only ones with electricity, partially, not all the lights are on and some of the ones that are are blinking. 'I hope none explode-' she thought to themselves. Immediately afterwards, a security door begins to open and close uncontrollably, giving Fern a start “AH-!” After the scare she takes a breath while the door begins to move slower and finally stops halfway open. The doors here must have a sensor or something, it must have been activated by proximity, is the card still functional? She takes it out of their pocket and passes it near the door trying to find the sensor. The door reacts but doesn't close or open completely.
Fern grabs one of the disconnected 'Staff' bots down the hallway and drags it to the door, blocking it in case it moves again and gets locked inside. It's an archive office, there are papers and file cabinets scattered on the floor. A ceiling panel fell on some filing cabinets and knocked everything to the floor. Fern glances vaguely over them, some papers seem to be records of laboratory materials and ingredients. Emphasizes, seems, because Fern doesn't understand the technical and convoluted language in which they are written, whoever worked here the guy's writing was embarrassing, they keep repeating the same elements all over the page in horrible handwriting. She doesn't see anything of value in the office so she leaves to continue moving through the maze of poorly iluminated hallways and malfunctioning doors.
08:10
Fern has been wandering around the facilities for quite a while now. Most of the doors are bolted shut and can't be opened (if a certain someone had gone back a few floors to get their crowbar...), next time Fern comes she'll bring suitable spare tools to open them. Although, is it worth going that far to get some pieces of metal? With what's on the first floors should be enough to renew tools and equipment, and make a good profit in the market. She wasn't into science so she didn't know what valuable objects she could take from the labs. She could look into it later, when she's done looking into what's here first.
The closer she gets to the center, the more the hallways light up, to the point that Fern no longer needs her flashlight and turns it off, for now. There are liquids running down the walls and dripping from cracks in the ceiling. Curiously, there are fewer marks of humidity than one would imagine; the leaks did not form long ago. The doors here seem to be in better condition than the ones before, possibly they are more complicated to open if this area has electricity and they are working better than the one before. She might have to see if she finds any more abandoned cards lying around.
This area is more open... and the wall appears to curve. There is a... castle door?? Like the ones you would see in cartoons or children's tales, with a crown of sunrays as the door frame. It's not made of wood, but it is some kind of hard material that Fern can't identify. There is a card reader panel next to the frame. A light comes out from between the doors crack.
...
Is this the center?
Fern grabs one of the door handles and pulls it. She hears a sound like rails moving inside as she opens the doors. What's on the other side has to be the strangest, largest room she's seen since she entered the building. Most of the floor is padded and colorful except for the entrance and a few more square meters of flooring which is tiled in a checkerboard pattern. Where there floor is tiled, there are security tables with computers, machines of some kind and office supplies. Where the floor is padded there are children's playground structures, jungle gyms, with tubes, slides, ball pits... Above the ball pit there's a fairy-tale like tower on the wall with a balcony, red curtains cover the entrance. No idea how to get there, there must be access from somewhere else. On the floor there're boxes of toys and stuffed animals... broken, but organized by size and color, it seems, some colorful cylindrical boxes are placed in a tower. Only what's on the play area seems tidy, everything beyond the padded floor is noticeably dirty, messy, basically a mess. The ceiling lights seem to come out of beams and are shaped like clouds, not all of them are on, some flicker. At the center of it all is a tower of cables that rises until it's lost above the lights in the darkness of the ceiling.
Fern enters the room, still observing the place. Although the gigantic column of cables and tubes in the center catches their attention, their interest falls on the computers next to them. The screens are on but they don't show anything, just a solid cyan blue color and some horizontal lines crossing the screen every now and then. The computers may be broken but there could be a possibility to repair them or take out the parts and put them to use... or even sell them as antiques.
...
Fern feels watched. She looks up from the machines to the play structures. A screech of moving rails. She sees nothing. She leaves the computers aside and approaches the play area. Another rail sound. Fern turns to look at where the sound came from. Behind the cable tower. Fern takes out a jackknife from their pocket and proceeds to circle the tower. Another screech. Accompanied by another noise coming from the ball pit. Fern approaches. There is a row of cables coming out of the tower and entering the pit. Uuuum, ok...?? weird... She steps on the bridge that comes out of the pit, without entering she leans to looks over it.
It could have just been a rat but Fern tried calling “Is anyone there?” knife in hand “Hello-?”
“HeEEEL-” A tall, disproportionate, slim figure suddenly emerges from the ball pit accompanied by the tinkling of bells, sending several balls flying, creating a rain around it, some balls falling out of the pit. It's arms extended in the air in salutation and a huge smile on it's face with crooked teeth. Some 'sunrays' in the shape of elongated orange triangles stuck out around it's head. “-LO!” A sun animatronic.
“AAAH-!” Fern screamed, backing up. The robot froze in the pose and the noises of a processor running could be heard, smile not leaving it's face, white eyes fixed on Fern, it only made a couple of movements that stopped abruptly halfway through as if it had paused and resumed its animation. It must not have registered their reaction, because it continued talking as if Fern hadn't screamed in shock.
“-N-new friend-? Oh-o-OH- Are you new-?! FRIE-NEW FRI-” *SCRRRR SCRRA SCRRRGGGH KKKKRRR* It froze again while something in his internal system made a noise that sounded like 'something's wrong' and it continued again as if nothing had happened “Who are you-?! I can't find your profile-! -Do you have a profile??? Have you come to play!? Have you come for the manteinence routin-? Are you a new technic-!? Can we play NOW!? We can-! You're not on the employee register-! You need a register-!”
Its arms were stretching out towards Fern trying to reach her. Fern backed away, trying to keep as much space as possible between them and the robot. It kept getting closer, without stopping smiling, without stopping penetrating them with its gaze, without blinking.
“-profile- you need a-! You cannot perform any procedures- or manipulate- any- *srsrsrrsrsrsrsrsrrckrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrkrk* fromtheFAzbear'sbrand- *krkrkrkrkrkrnnnnnnnnnnrr* Do I make you a profile!? You need a-” Its fan started to sound very loudly “How were you able to enter- without a profile-!??? Do you work here? How did you get in-!? What are you doing here-!?” Fern hit her back against the cable tower and raised their knife to put distance between the damaged robot and them “DETECTED: DANGEROUS OBJECT, IS THAT A WEAPON!? *VRRRRRRRRR*” A panicked expression replaced its smile, its fan getting louder and louder “YOU CAN'T BRING THAT HERE! YOU CA- YOU CAN'T- YOU- *krkrkrkrkrkr* THE RUL- *krkrkrNNNNNNNNNGGGH* AG-AGAINST TH- *NNNNNNNNNGNNGNGGNGN-* DAN-GRROS-” It stopped forming coherent sentences and began to blurt out half-cut words amid the noise of the processor overheating.
Despite the clear problems it was experiencing, its movements didn't stop, getting closer and closer. A robotic hand reached out to grab Fern's arm, planning to take the weapon from her. Fern waved their knife away from its hand and finally broke into a run.
“AH-! eeeh-eh-e...! WAIT” The sun shouted as Fern fled towards the doors “Why are you running!? Where are you going-!? NO- WAIT- waitwaitwaitwait!” It ran after them. Fern left the play area and rushed through the doors. “WAIT-come back- I'm so...” She crossed the hallways like a bullet, ignoring the screams that became progressively quieter. She didn't realize she had left it behind until she could no longer hear it and the hallways were dark again.
Fern finally stopped to catch their breath, looking back to make sure she had left it behind. Vocalizing between pants “What... th...e fuck...? ...what...the fuck? God... what the... shit was... that...?” She sat down against a wall to rest. She hadn't realized that she had been gripping the knife tightly in their hand and now it was a little sore, if it weren't for the gloves she would have seen their knuckles white.
08:48
It's been a while. After calming down and drinking some water, Fern decides to go back to see what is happening with the sun and why it's the only active animatronic (seen so far) in the whole place. Thinking about it, it surely didn't want to scare them, possibly. It has been abandoned here for a long time, it's normal for it to be damaged. If its processor is salvageable and its AI gets a fix or two she could use it for help. But if that were the case, what should she do? She can't leave a robot with autonomy abandoned, much less in these ruins, part of Fern would feel bad but she can't take it with them. Where would she put it? Where would she take it?
That seems like a problem for future Fern.
It will be best to keep the knife, and possibly any type of weapon away. There was a lot of movement and noise at that moment but Fern believes she remembers a slight change in the robot's behavior when it discovered the knife. More erratic, more anxious, it couldn't even formulate complete words. Maybe if she went calmly and manages to calm the robot down, she could talk to it and find out what happened here. And why it is active.
She's arriving at the castle-like doors again. They're open, just like Fern left them. The robot could have gotten out and be hanging around the building, but something was telling Fern that wasn't the case. Slowly, without making a sound, she approaches the doors and peeps from the entrance, their eyes scan the room but don'tt find the sun. Fern decides to go in, thinks about calling it but backs away when she hears the screak and the rails again. If that sound came from it then it was still here.
...
Fern decides to go into the room. She wanted to prove a theory and for that she needed it to appear, and something was telling them that if she stayed at the door it wasn't going to appear. She puts one foot on the padded floor. Nothing's heard. She goes further into the playing area, the loose cables that entered the ball pit are no longer there, possibly they are connected to the robot so the logical thing would be to look for where they've gone. Starting from the central tower, the cables seem to go behind the play structure, Fern approaches to follow the line of cables.
*creeek*
A squeak. Fern turns around. Another screech. It came from the tower. Looking around she notices that the cables comes out of the play structure and disappear behind the tower. Fern approaches, circling the tower slowly, cautiously, following the cables. A metallic hand grabs their shoulder. “You are... here...”
“AACK-!” Fern screamed as she jerked the hand off their shoulder and ran towards the doors.
“No, wait, not again!” Fern leaves the room and turns to look inside holding the doors, ready to close them. But it seems it won't be necessary.
The robot has not moved past the padded floor. It looks at the tiled floor in front of them with concern, its posture is hunched as if it doesn't know what to do from that point or something bad will happen if it steps on a tile. Its arms curled against its chest, it clutches the red ribbons hanging from its wrists. Its eyes alternating between looking at Fern and the ground until it finally decides to speak.
“a...a-...y- You are here!” It says with joy, extending its arms and putting on a smile again, forced... no, genuine? “You are here again! ...a- I-I- was- you- *skrrrrrrrrr kr kr kr* You're back! And you are here and you are back and I thought you wouldn't come back and-!” it gesticulates very widely “-and-and- I'm sorry- sorry I scared you- TWICE!” emphasizes by pulling out two fingers of its hand ���I'm sorry... it's just that- I haven't seen anyone in a long time! Or talked to someone! Or touched! And I was SO EXCITED! B-because you were there! And I touched you! And you were there! And I-! *skr...skr...skr...skr...* And I thought you weren't coming back! ...I thought you weren't going to come back.” Its shoulders droop and its body loses all movement, it stares at the ground, muttering. “And then I thought I scared away my new friend and they weren't coming back. But then I heard footsteps! And I felt something! And it was you! And I'm so happy! *sKNNNGNGnnn...*” It stands still again, with a somewhat creepy smile and its gaze fixed on Fern.
Fern remained silent. She doesn't really know how to react after having heard all that. The only thing that was going through their mind was that this robot showed autonomy and clear signs of stress, anxiety and loneliness. She can't leave it here but she also doesn't know if they could be dangerous or if it's just very hyperactive. They are clearly disturbed. Now that Fern noticed, one hand was more skeletal than the other, the entire casing of its left arm was missing and the ribbon was tied poorly with its bell. Parts of its endoskeleton were exposed, their casing was damaged in many places, and their jester's clothes were not much better either. The red and yellow striped pants were torn, the left leg open by a gap that ran from the bottom to top, an adhesive tape near the groin prevented the gap from spreading further, it appeared that the pants were held in place by a belt that didn't belong to the costume. The cables coming from the central tower and scattered across the floor seemed to end at the back of his head.
The sun began to look nervously between Fern and the floor again “H-ey- a- cou... c-could you come closer?” Its posture shrinks again, hands against its chest.
“...What?”
“Could you come closer? P-p-please?”
“...” Fern glances at the floor, at the robot's feet, and then at them “...You can't step on the tiled floor, can you?” The sun lost its smile and looked down at the ground, after a few seconds they nodded its head.
It looked back at Fern “I...can't. I-it's off limits. I can't." The forced smile returned “B-but you can come closer, could you come closer? Please…?”
“No.” Fern truly wasn't planning on doing so.
“Ack-! *knnnnnnnnn skrskrskrskr* W-w-w-why?!?”
“I'm just fine here, I think I'm going to stay at the door.” She said as she let go of the handles and sat on the floor crossing their legs “Besides, I don't want you grabbing me again.”
“I didn't grab you! I didn't!” They made a gesture with its hand, replicating the motion they made when they touched Fern earlier “I only touched your shoulder! I placed my hand on your shoulder!” Did it really only placed its hand on their shoulder? It happened not long ago, Fern remembers feeling more pressure than necessary. She could still feel the metal fingers digging into their right shoulder.
“Yeah... I don't remember it that way.” Fern put their hand on their shoulder “You've been trying to get your hands on me ever since you saw me.” The sun was about to open its mouth to say something but they backed out *kknnnnnnnnnnn* it seemed to be thinking in what to respond, it looked tense. Fern was also thinking about what she could do to calm them down so she could get closer, but it seemed that at the slightest chance she'll have it near it was going to pounce on them (And for your information, Fern, your attitude isn't helping either).
“You shouldn't sit on the floor.” the sun said.
“Eh?”
“*skr skr* I-it's not good *skrrr* that you're sitting on the floor. You're go-o-oing to hurt yourself, why don't you *skrrrrrrrr* sit here in the play area? The floor is softer, that would be better...” Fern frowned at them “O-o-or-” The sun looked around, pointed to the desks where Fern was looking at the computers earlier “-you could use one of the office chairs, where the security desks!” It smiled, its smile seemed more sincere this time “You don't have authorization to be there! But...” It glanced nervously at the chairs, then at Fern “It won't hurt to use it for a bit! Until the security guards come... But I won't tell anyone! Word!” It held up its hand as a promise gesture “Just, don't touch anything... they get really angry when people touch something, and then they yell at me...”
“No, I'm fine, thank you.” That chair was worse than the floor, and Fern didn't want to move away from the door. A *skrrrrrrrrrnnnnnn knnn knnn krkrkrkr* was heard from the robot, she didn't like that. The sun started looking between Fern and the chair again, finally ended up staring at the floor. The way it let its 'rays' fall was reminiscent of the ears of a saddened animal “...” “Hey.”
“Huh?” It raised its 'rays' again expectantly.
“Why don't you sit down? ...so we are both sitting.” Fern said trying to make the situation less awkward. It occurred to them that if they were both at the same height it would ease the atmosphere a little.
“...I don't need to- *Knnnnnnn skrskr* ...-Okay! Yeah, yes, okay...” It slowly knelt on the floor. It looked at Fern and then returned its gaze to the floor. “...” “I'm sorry...” It apologized again “I'm sorry, I know I scared you and that you don't trust me and I'm sorry, I'm very sorry.” It clenched the fabric of the pants where the scuff marks met with its fingers, its shoulders shrinked “...Please don't go.”
“Nah, I'm too lazy to get up now.” She said in another attempt to convince him she was staying to reassure him.
“Please don't go…” It repeated. They sounded like they were about to cry.
“... I'm not going anywhere.” She tried again, leaning back and supporting their weight on their hands. “...Word.” Fern imitated the hand gesture the robot made earlier, as a promise.
*Knnnnnnnnnnn* The sun stared at Fern's hand, then at them. “Are... you're staying?”
“Yes, I'm staying.” Fern looked to the side, thinking. She looked back at the robot “...For a while. Until I have to leave.”
“*knnnnnnn* When will you leave?”
“Eh... possibly within a few hours. So... yeah, we can talk.” (For my mother's love Fern, my child, you sweet summer child, more cheer.)
*skr- skr- skr- knnnnnnn* The sun seemed to be processing the information. Fern looked at them expecting them to start talking at any moment.
...There was silence for a minute. Fern decided to speak.
“So what's your name?”
“What's your name?” They said practically at the same time.
“Ah-”
“Oh- *skr skr skr*.”
Fern gestured for them to start first.
“I- a- *knnnnnn knnnnn knnnnn knnnnn* n-no, you can go first!” The robot said, with a constant *knnnnn* sound.
“Um, okay. My name's Fern, you?”
A *kr kr* interrupted the previous sound and only *knnnnnnn* could be heard again. It was silent for a bit. Then it decided to speak “Fern! Oh, that's a very nice name! It fits you, yes... *sk sk knnnnnn* Hey, hey, Fern...! What do you like to do-? What do you like to play? Your favorite color-?!”
“Hold on, hold on! Are you going to tell me your name or am I going to be left without knowing?”
“Um... *skr skr skr* one... *knnnnnnnn* one moment-” Again that *knnnnn*, another minute in silence “...” “Oh! Hey, hey! Do you like puppet shows? I'm very good at making them! Or I can teach you how to make puppets if you want-!”
“What I would like is knowing what to call you. Don't... you know it's rude to ask someone's name and then not introduce yourself?” She said trying to pressure them into saying its name.
“Oh! *skr skr* My name! *skr* Yes, my name!”
“...”
“...”
“...”
“*skr... skr... skr... skr... skr...*”
“E-”
“Do you like painting?! I can get some paints and papers and we can paint together-!
“Your name! How can I call you?”
“Oh-! ah... You can call me whatever you want!” They said as it adjusted its posture, sitting crossing its legs like Fern “You can use a nickname, or nicknames! If you like, I love nicknames! Do you like nicknames? Do you want a nickname? Do I give you a nickname-?! Okay!” They put its hand on its chin, thinking “Let's see...”
“You don't know your name, do you?”
“ng... *sknnnnnnnnnn*” Its head twitched and it froze in the posture looking to the side. Some fans began to make sound “nn... i...k...kno...i... I-I-I- I know! It's- It's here! Here! In my sys-! *skgghghrghrghrrrr* -TEeem... eh... ah...” It looked confused, its eyes move as if it was reading something in the air “I...” Its shoulders slump in disappointment, whatever it was searching for in its system they couldn't seem to find it “I can't...” murmurs.
“...Can you tell me your code? The name of your model I mean.”
*skgkg-* “...” “I cannot give that type of information to unauthorized personnel or not employed by Fazbear Entertainent.” It said in a monotone voice. “...” “It makes no sense as a name anyways,” it laughed “it's boring and hard to pronounce.”
“Don't you have a name they used to call you by here?”
“Um...” It's fans started up again.
“...” Fern remembers seeing something written on the posters she saw earlier, something about sun...drop? She looked around. Those same posters were here too, on the walls and desks along with others that seemed more outdated. 'Sunnydrop', said the posters, although it seems more like the name of the candy they promote. “Eh.”
“Hm?”
“What if I called you 'Sun'? For short, for the moment. Like a short version of the poster over there.” Fern said, pointing with their head and thumb. “And 'cause, well... it's literally the shape of your head... it's not very original but...” (I'm not pronouncing that whole name every time I want to refer to you.) “I don't know, how about it?”
It looks between Fern and the poster until it smiles and nods its head vividly “Okay, yeah! Call me Sun!” It looks happy with the idea. The fans and noise of its processor have reduced. Fern already has a name for the sun animatronic, Sun, ironically. “I like it! Oh, I like the nickname you gave me!” Its 'rays' make a spin around its head followed by some *clicks* and *tics*, was that to express happiness?
“Hey.”
“Yes, friend!? Uh-Oh! Is it okay if I call you friend?” It seemed nervous again. Fern was going to have to be extremely careful talking to Sun if at the slightest it'll get upset over something like calling them 'friend' instead of using their name.
“Yeah, sure, call me whatever you want. Hey, how long have you been here?” Possibly not the best question to start with but Fern had many questions about this place and especially about Sun.
“For-! Uh... *knnnnnnnn skr skr skr skr* since... *kr kr kr kr kr kr kr kr kr* uhhh...*skr skr skr srk*”
“Okay, stop stop.” After a few moments Sun stopped as instructed, along with the processor's noise, and looked at Fern with curiosity and a feeling of having done something wrong. “Let's see. How long... have you been On? Since the last time you started up again.”
“Oh! I can anwser that! *knnn krkr kr skr...* Four...thousand *skr skr kr-* two...hun...dred ninety...-EIGHT! Days. Since my last reboot... Ah- no- well... since my last hard reboot. I don't really need to shutdown but sometimes I need restarts... Be a few minutes (or hours) 'off '. Oh, but since then I've been fine! Working perf-*skgrah*-ectly! *skr*.” It swung its fist to the side with energy and a smile, ignoring the distress call from its system.
“...Yeah. And those noises that are constantly coming out of you? They don't sound very good, to say the least.” She's right.
“I've already fix-! *skgrr-* I've already fixed it! S-sometimes it happens and I don't realize it, but I always fix it!” “...” “I-I know you were a little scared before! And-and that- And that I acted weird! I...I know! I'm sorry... But that's it! I'm functioning perfectly!” It swung its fist again, this time with less enthusiasm “...Seriously...”
Fern looked at Sun thoughtfully “Back... in the ball pit. The noises were much worse and constant, and you froze with every movement or at mid-word. Does it happen to you often? I am no expert!” Fern held up their hands in excuse “But I wouldn't call that 'functioning perfectly'.”
“I-I- said I already fixed it! *skrgggrggrgr- kr kr*” There it was again.
“It's getting worrying, you know?” If it wasn't already before.
Sun waved its hand in denial “Nothin'nothin'nothin'-! *skrrr* It's nothing, it's nothing! *kr kr*” It repeated over and over between loud processor noises, the more it panicked, the longer the noises became “that that that! Dasit-! That's it! *skr krr-* There! *skrrrrr- kr- kr- kr-* Now, it's-! *sknnnnnnnnn skrGRRRrrAH* IT'S ENOUGH!” Its fans were starting up again along with the noise at an alarming rate. Sun started to make a sound that resembled hyperventilating. By panicking, it was asking too much of the internal system and it became destabilized (Hey Fern, the part about being careful with what you say, no, huh?).
“Okay! Okay, calm down. It's okay.” Fern sat forward raising their hands, still kneeling on the floor. Sun looked at them as it tangled its hands together. “It's okay...” She tried to think quickly what to say “You said that you had been... like four thousand or so days On.”
“*Skr skr* ...Four thousand two hundred and ninety-eight...*skgr*” It frowned at that last noise.
“Four thousand two hundred and ninety-eight days, okay. And in all that time, have you seen anyone else besides me? Have you received maintenance or any messages from them?”
Its expression shifted to a bewildered look at Fern. It started playing with the ribbons on its wrists “No... No, but-” It tried to show a smile again “-but it's okay, I've been taking care of myself a lot-lot-lot-! And I have been very careful! And I've paid attention to the alerts! And then they won't have much work ahead of them...! For... when they come back...” “...” “They're taking their time. They're...-they're taking a long time to come back.” It started rocking on the spot, back and forth “But it's fine! Because when they come back-*skrgrgrhs* when they come back- I'll-! *skrgr* I've been behaving well! I've been behaving very well.” It suddenly lowered its tone of voice. It looked at the floor while its hands still played with the ribbons, tangling them between its fingers. “I have been good. They won't have to worry and will be able to return to their work. I have been very good. I am functioning perfectly. There is no problem. I'm fine. I already fixed it *skrnnnnnnnnn*” Again the noise “I've fixed it, I've fixed it, I've fixed it!”
“Okay! Okay. Alright, I believe you.”
Sun looked up and tensed its shoulders... and its 'rays'. It looked surprised, like it had forgotten Fern was there. “*Skr skr skr skr skr skr skr skr* Oh-! Oh.” It looked at the ribbon tangled between its fingers for a moment, untangled it, and looked back at Fern as its hands continued to play “I- didn- ...I'm sorry.”
“I was- I was just wondering, how... come that-” 'How are you still functioning after all this time?' was what Fern wanted to ask among a thousand things. But seeing Sun's expression, that mix between stress, fear and somehow enthusiasm, just to be there, with someone. Fern decided to put their questions aside “You know what? Why don't you ask me something?”
“*skr skr* Oh! I've already asked you a lot of things earlier! You still haven't answered those~!” It said with a more cheerful tone.
“Sorry, I don't remember them, can you repeat them for me?” Better to start gaining its trust.
Sun's posture tensed as it leaned forward, it clenched its fists with enthusiasm and its 'rays' shrank and extended, making a wave effect around its head, it made an inspiration sound “*GAAAASP* What is your favorite thing to do-?!What do you like to play-? What places do you like going to-?What's your favorite color-?!Your favorite song-?Your favorite food-?Do you like puppet shows-?Would you like me to teach you how to make puppets-?!Do you like nicknames?Would you like me to give you one-?Do you like painting-?Can we do make-?”
“One at a time! I can't keep up with everything.” Fern cut them off before it continued its endless list of questions. Sun had that guilty look again with its 'rays' drooping. Before it could began to apologize Fern continued “What's the first thing you want to ask me?”
“Um- eh-ah- *knnnnnn* What's your favorite thing to do in the world?!”
“Humm...” Fern took a moment to think. She could give a random answer to move forward the conversation faster but she wanted to be honest. And she was having a hard time because she couldn't remember what she liked to do most. “I guess... uuuuuhh... drawing? Although- well I don't really draw much.”
“*kr kr* I like to draw too! And painting! And crafts! What's your favorite game?!” Sun jumped to the next question.
“Uf, uh...” Fern wasn't great at remembering their own interests. It's hard when you don't think about it often, or ever “I don't think I have a favorite game... Mmmm-I like it when the game uses cards... but I don't know.”
“*skr kr kr* Oh! I also like card games. What's your favorite color?!”
“Oran...ge...? No... Well, yes, but maybe pastel yellow... although I also like some shades of green and purples.”
“*skr skr kr*” Sun seemed to be taking note of everything Fern was saying before asking the next question. “You can choose more than one! I like sky blue!” How ironic “What's your favorite food?” If it wasn't for the enthusiasm it gave off when asking and waiting for the answer, Fern would have thought Sun was getting back at them for asking it difficult questions earlier. It could be, but hard to believe with the little bounces it gave in place while smiling with excitement.
“I mean... I don't know- I like salty foods, and some acid ones but... I wouldn't know what to tell you my favourite food is.”
“*skr* Oh, well... I like cupcakes!”
“...How can you have a favorite food?”
“Why wouldn't I have???”
“Can you eat? Are you made with the capacity for it?”
“*kr knn* Ohoho! No, I can't eat them, but I like how they look! I think they are pretty! There are many ways to decorate them...! *skr kr kr* Oh! I also like homemade cookies! You can give them any shape you want and decorate them and you can also make them colorful!” What Sun seemed to like was the process of making them, makes sense.
“Ha.” Fern showed a smile of understanding.
“... *skr krkrkr skr kr*” It took a moment to ask the next question. “Do you like music? Do you have a favorite song?” It seemed more relaxed talking.
“I like it but um... I couldn't tell you... I've never chosen one as 'the favorite' ...you know?”
“*SKRRR* Y-you don't have to choose! Y-you are not obliged *skr kr*” Sun must have noticed Fern upset, but it wasn't because of them. What bothered Fern was not being able to give a confident answer. “Everyone has a hard time choosing sometimes-! *kr* There are a lot- lot of songs and music! How to choose just one... ahaha...” It laughed.
It continued the relentless bombardment of questions. Sun asked the typical basic children's questions when they have just learned how to make friends and chatted about various game topics. Fern tried to slip some 'discreet' question about the Fazbear company and Sun, but it would get nervous when it was unable to respond and would hung up, so they would change the topic again and talk about personal interests.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It's been a long bit.
“*knnnnnnnnn*... Do you… do you have a favorite place?” Sun asked, showing a bit of shyness.
“...” It took Fern a while to answer “I- guess... My house? I don't know..."
“... D-don't you have... a comfy place? A place where you feel more comfortable than others?”
“Heh, yeah, my bed…” Their answers became more and more vague.
“Oh-! *skr* hehe... Does that mean you're not an early riser?”
“Actually, I usually get up early, but who isn't comfortable in their bed, you know? Besides, I get up early out of obligation. It's not that I can just stay in bed and do nothing.”
“*krkr* Oh...haha, of course...” There were a few seconds of awkward silence until it asked “Uh... a-a-are you bored? A-a-are -y-y-ou getting bored?” Its fans began to be heard.
Fern cut them off before it could start rambling in panic again. “No no! It's not that... it's just that-” She wanted to explain themselves but couldn't find the words. “I don't know. I guess- I'm a little tired, and lost in thoughts. I wasn't expecting...this” She pointed their hand in Sun's general direction.
“...Ah?” Sun tilted its head to the side in confusion.
“I mean... it's just...” I came to steal old material and scraps “I came in here expecting to explore a little and leave and now I'm... sitting here. I didn't expect to be answering questions about me or my personal tastes in craft materials.” She looked at Sun “...Or to have a conversation with a robot” Sun frowned a little at that last bit. “Not to belittle! I didn't expect to find anyone when I came here.”
“No no-! It's not that- ah- Why weren't you expecting anyone??” Sun asked with genuine confusion “There are always a lot of people working here, especially during the day!”
“...” Oh, boy. That “uh... Sun” It's better for them to know it now as soon as possible ...right? “I think... no one comes here anymore.”
“...?” Sun looked at Fern with bewilderment but maintained a light smile.
“...”
“...”
“...a-”
“AHAHA-” Sun suddenly laughed. Its posture and smile had frozen, its gaze fixed somewhere behind Fern.
She knew it wasn't looking at them, she swayed sideways and made various arm gestures and poses to check it. The *knnnnnnnn* that began to sound confirmed to Fern that it was still working and had not suddenly broken, maybe it just gave an error and was processing a response. “...Sun?”
“HA-” *SKRGKRrrgkk...* It looked like it had a spasm for a moment. Its head tilted and a mechanical *click* was heard, shortly after its face made a full rotation followed by more *clicks*. Its smile widened again, maintaining its worried expression, it put its hands on its ankles and began to sway back and forth rhythmically. “Silly-silly-silly-silly-silly-! *sKRKRrrg* OOOOH so silly-! That's so silly-! AHA-ahA ha-! Don't say nonsense!” It said smilingly.
Fern could only look at Sun in bewilderment and pity.
*skr* It stopped its swaying and relaxed its tone “Don't be silly, friend. Of course people still come! They have to come and do their job! Their work is very important! They wouldn't all quit so suddenly!”
“...Has anyone been here in the last years?” Fern asked, worried for the answer.
*skrKR* “You have come!” It responded instantly happily “You are here! -Right now!"
“...Sun,” uff “Have more people come here besides me in the last years?”
“...” *skrkr skr kr kr kr...* Its smile was falling but it didn't disappear completely. “Surely.... they are working in another part of the building. -Y-yes *kr*, they must be very busy! Working! Elsewhere...!” A low *kr kr kr kr* began to be heard “That's why... it must be that... You aren't a new technician! Right!?”
“¿¡!?” That took Fern by surprise. “Um- nope.”
“A-a-a-and- you haven't seen anyone since you came in here! Right!?” *skrskrskr*
“...No-?”
“Of course!” *SKR* The half-joyful-half-nervous tone returned “-Of course you couldn't have seen anyone! You don't work here! You can't have the work schedule or know where they might be-! You can't know- aHAha-!” If Sun noticed the worried looks Fern was sending him, it must have ignored it.
“Y-yeah okay, but- alright... and... haven't you thought... that they haven't stopped by to visit you in a long time?” Fern gave a small worried smile. “-Haven't you seen them in a while time?”
“LIIIke I said before- they're busy- they don't need to come see me now! *krkrkr* It must be that I don't need to be examined at the moment! That must be it haha! You're not from here so naturally you don't know! You don't know what they're working on! Don't worry- don't worry-!”
Fern could only think that this was going to be more complicated than it already seemed at first. The robot continued with its paranoia that this place was still running. Something light up on its face, as if it had remembered something.
“B-besides- they said they would come back tomorrow! So it's fine! They'll be back!”
That got all of Fern's attention. “Wait- holditholditholditholdit-! They told you they would be back, tomorrow???”
Sun nodded its head vividly “Mhm! That's what they said!” It looked more cheerful.
“But- like, tomorrow-tomorrow?”
*Sknnnnnnnnnnnn* Ah, one of the various sounds of thinking “They said they would be back tomorrow!” It drops that and stays chill, with a smile on its face.
“So you're telling me... they talked to you today?”
“Oh, no! I haven't seen them today...”
“They sent you a message then.”
“No no, I haven't received any messages in a while.” *skr*
“...” For the love of my life “They... told you the date they would return, and that date is tomorrow?”
"No, silly!" it said with laughter “I'm telling you, they told me they would be back tomorrow!”
Fern was perplexed. She was finally managing to get even a sliver of information out and she had gotten themselves into a loop with the robot. But wait- “Sun, how long ago did they tell you they would be back tomorrow?”
Sun stayed silent, the only audible sound the long, drawn-out *knnnnnnnnnn* it seemed to do when it thought. It dug its fingers into the fabric of its pants near its ankles and didn't move again. A while passed and it was still motionless, thinking. It began to repeat a sequence of noises as if it had gotten stuck in its thoughts and suddenly the sound stopped. Its smile fell, its body lost all the tension that kept them upright, and it slumped to the side.
Fern startled. “¿Sun?” Didn't seem to respond “Oh, God...” Just as she thought of getting closer to check if it was okay, Sun sat up, making a lot of mechanical *clicks* and *tics* as its limbs settled back into their natural positions. It could be hear the fan running and soon the *skr skr* it had been doing the whole time they were talking.
It finally looked up at Fern. It seemed to function normally again, “...” “...” “...HEEEEL-” or almost “-LOOO... *SKGrkrgr* N-new friend-? Oh-o-OH- Are you new-?! ARE YOU FRIEND!? *kgr*” This sounds familiar... Sun got up from excitement, it couldn't stop bouncing on the spot. “Who are you-?! What's your name!? *skgr* I can't find your profile-! -Do you have a profile??? OH! Are you the new playmate!? Wait, are you here for the routine maintenance? *kr- kr-* Are you a new technician-!?” And we start again “Can we play? Can we play NOW!? Can we-! You're not on the employee registry-! You need a registry to-! *skgrkrkrkr* How could you get in without a profile!??? Do you work here-?” It stopped dead and stared at Fern. Its white pupils scanned them from top to bottom. “*skrgrkrg* *GASP* You don't work here! How did you get in-!? What are you doing here-!? INTRUDER! STRANGER! ¡AAA-!” His rays tensed, Sun began to run in circles screaming “SECURITY ALERT! SECURITY ALERT! WOO WOO WOO WOO!” And imitating alarm sounds. Its screams mixed with the noises of its processor and fans. Fern could only look in amazement and disconsolation at the panorama.
“Sun.” She tried calling them but it kept going 'woo woo' while running and doing pirouettes across the floor. “Sun! Hey!” No case. Eventually it went back to just spinning around in circles while shouting 'DANGER DANGER' over and over again. “Sun! Listen! SUN!” It stopped but not because of Fern. It had frozen in its animation again, its head and hands rotating in place, sparking from the friction. Now it was just repeating 'ERROR ERROR' non-stop with a monotone voice.
Fern panicked, she spun around on themselves looking around, searching for something. She located an old, dusty ball behind a chair and threw it hard at Sun, hitting them in the face. Somehow this made it stop completely. Fern watched silently waiting for something to happen but Sun remained motionless without making a sound. A few seconds later the fan sounded again along with the rest of the usual noises, it took them a while to start up. When it finally did, it returned its gaze to Fern, scanning them up and down.
“...” “*GASP* New frie-!”
“AH- NAH-no-no-no-no-nah-! We are not going through this again!” Fern cut them off before it could start with everything all over again.
“...f-...frie-nd-...” That left them in shock. It lowered its rays and its posture shrank. The *vrrrrrr* of the fans could be hear.
“Y-Yes- yes... friends! We're friends” Saying that seemed to help improve its mood. Sun went to open its mouth to speak but Fern was the one who did it first. “Before you say anything-! Um... No, I don't work here and I don't have a profile. Yes, I've snuck in, uh- don't activate the alarms yet, I don't have any bad intentions...” That last one was partially a lie. Don't get upset, okay? ...We don't want you to suddenly shut down and collapse again.” Sun tensed up upon hearing that but did as instructed and remained calm for the moment. “We've been talking for the last- THREE HOURS.” Fern looked at their watch, it had been over three hours and she was having a hard time assimilating it but she looked back at Sun who was expectant of Fern's words. She took a breath and continued. “Okay, look, we've been talking for a long time and you've already asked me everything about me. Y-you should have that information recorded somewhere in your memory! It happened just now.” She paused to see if Sun had caught everything she said and gave it a moment to search for said information. It could be hear the *skr skr* of thinking and the fans. After a while it stopped making noise, but the nervous fidgeting of its hands let Fern know it hadn't collapsed again. “Do you remember anything of what happened in the last few hours?” She asked.
Sun seemed to have come out of the trance it was in and started looking between its hands, the computer desks, and Fern. “*skr- skr-*...uuh...uh...” The fidgeting passed from its hands to the ribbons “...yyyyyess?? uh- *SKRG* I- *kr* I shouldn't give- *sKRGRRGKRgrrss*” Oh no... It froze again- “Yes! Yes, of course! Ha- How would I forget-?” It had that expression again between happy and on the verge of an attack “I haven't forget anything! I haven't forget anything-! Don't worry! It's all here-!” It raised its arm doing a swing with one finger pointing at its head. “It's here! I forgot nothing- nothing! It only took a lil' bit to load- haha...” Sun smiled awkwardly while Fern looked at them with concern and seriousness. “Yup, a-aALLLl in order! *-skrgr*” It confirmed one last time.
Fern let out a tired sigh. She looked worriedly at the watch on their wrist. 12:11 “Okay... okay look, I- have been here for a long time now, I should go-”
“What-!? No no! *-kgrkgrgr* Please no!” Aaaand Sun panicked again. “Don't go! HahA-! I- Um- Can-! *SKGR* I-I-can-can-can- a-any- thing! I can do anything-! Whatever you want-!” Its voice was cutting off with static and it let out gasps between pleas, its rays were trembling. Fern tried to say something but it was only a murmur between Sun's desperate screams. “Don't leave yet, please! It's still too soon! Don't leave me alone! I don't want to be alone-!”
“I'LL COME BACK!” Fern finally raised their voice.
“...eh?”
"Listen." Fern made sure she had Sun's attention “I cannot stay any longer, I just can't! I've already spent longer than I intended here and I have a lot to do. So...” She sighed and looked at Sun, they maintained eye contact. “...I'm leaving for today, and I'll be back tomorrow, okay?” She saw confusion on Sun's face, from the sound of *Knng* and the way it tilted its head it didn't seem to have understood. She repeated again gesturing with their hands as she spoke making their points clear. “Today: I'm leaving. Tomorrow: I'll be back... Understand?” She let a few seconds pass to see how it'll responded.
It had its hands together, one finger scratching the joint of a knuckle on its exposed hand. Its noises could be heard at a lower volume and the rays from its head shrank and extended in a wave movement. It finally reacted “ah...uh-... o-okay... okay... *skgr* a- Yes! Alright... okay...” It nodded with a shy smile. “*skr... skr...* um- I-... if- If my friend says- *kr* says they're coming back, then they're coming back! Ahaha...” It tried to return to a more cheerful voice. It sounded like it said it more to themselves than to anyone else. “Ri...ght... friend?”
"Sure." Fern nodded, tilting their head to the side.
“...” “...Do you promise...?”
“Yes.”
“...You promise you'll be back here tomorrow?”
“Yes, I'll be back here tomorrow.”
“R-really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Do you really promis-?”
"Yes!" Sun jumped back, its eyes and shoulders hunched and it looked in fear at Fern. “Sorry...” She sighed “I promise. I really, truly, really, truthfully promise that I will be back. Tomorrow morning I promise you I'll be right here.” Sun looked at Fern expectantly. “...” “Word.” Fern held up their hand in promise. Sun imitated the gesture “Okay?”
Its expression brightened, the rays came out again and its posture relaxed. “Okay, y-yeah, okay! W-we'll see each other tomorrow!” It confirmed.
Fern was relieved to hear Sun finally understand and breathed out a sigh of relief. “Okay, then... I'll get going, alright? Bye.” She waved goodbye as she headed towards the doors.
“¡Ah! Uh... Can you close the doors on your way out? The doors have to be closed if no one's here...”
“Yeah.” She grabbed the door handles and pushed them.
“U-um- S-see ya!” It said waving its hand in the air.
"See you tomorrow." Fern confirmed one last time, “Bye, Sun.”
Sun stood there, waving timidly into the air, watching as its new (apparently) friend disappeared after closing the fake castle doors. It stopped waving “...” “Who's Sun?”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Fern was back on the first elevator, the one that wasn't working and, naturally, she hadn't forgotten their beloved and much missed crowbar. She made a long descent to the bottom of the pit using the stairs on the wall to get it back and climb back up. She sighed, “Next time, I'm bringing two crowbars.” She climbed back up to the roof of the elevator and entered through the emergency hatch to reach floor L2. After coming out of it, she stopped in front of the doors to look at the state of the crowbar more calmly 'Wow, it's pretty good for having fallen from 30 me-' *SKREEEEEENNNNNNGG* Fern flinched at the sound and turned to look at the elevator.
*SKREEENNNGG NNNGG NNNGGGGGGGgggggggggg.......*
*...*
*...*
*...*
*BOOMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.............*
“...”
Fern stared with their eyes wide open at the now empty elevator shaft. She looked at the crowbar in their hand. She decides to put it away and return home. We aren't going to think about how she narrowly escaped that, no. If she had taken few more seconds to come out and turns into mush, in an elevator pit, in an abandoned facility, in a building not even its mother knows, in the middle of nowhere. Nope! We aren't going to think about that, better to get out. Down the stairs, straight ahead to the right. Fresh air here she goes.
As soon as she left, Fern felt a pressure release from their head. Just a few meters away from the entrance she felt like she had to sit down and take off their backpack before getting where she had parked their hovercraft, she needed clean air. The fresh air helped them clear their head and thoughts. She hadn't realized until now how overwhelmed she was feeling being in there, apart from the recent scare with the elevator, which has also made them feel anguish.
She looks at the clock, it's past one o'clock in the afternoon. She should eat something if she's driving home after all that walking, climbing, and running. She gets up from the ground and drags the backpack along with their body to collapse in the car so she can eat there. It's a little harder to carry the backpack with the extra weight of the tools she has been collecting on the way back (hey, they were free). She takes off their gloves and digs through their backpack to take out the multipurpose knife, the lunch box containing the chicken with rice she had prepared in the early morning and an apple, some of the rice has stuck to the lid of the lunchbox and she scratches it off with the fork. She spends a few minutes digging into the food until she finally decides to bring a portion to their mouth.
Although she decided not to worry for the moment, Fern can't help but think of the robot trapped and abandoned at the bottom of the building... who's alone again. Should she really come back tomorrow? Yes, she promised, but, what difference would it make if she just pretended nothing happened? What consequences could there be-? In fact- Fern would be suffering consequences for taking responsibility for a defective and damaged robot. Bots themselves are already a pain in the ass to maintain and the lack of bot rights management doesn't help, there is nothing that protects them; there's no way to get good insurance for them, especially for models from 5 years ago. If your bot is older than that you better have a complete manual stuck in your head on how to solve any absolute damage or problem it may suffer, because if not, you're both very screwed.
Speaking of which, how is Fern supposed to repair a robot as broken as Sun is? Especially one made by Fazbear Entertainment, the bastards make their own unique tools and parts of exclusive use for their company. You can't find them anywhere. It would be impossible to repair one of their animatronics unless she made each piece by hand and- um- no. Thank you. Is Sun even in saveable condition? Would it even be worth it? Even in the hypothetical case that she managed to save it, what would she do next? She doesn't have space at home for a robot that's taller than 2 meters. There is the machine refuge, yes, but...
...
Could she even help them? Without compatible or interchangeable parts I highly doubt it. It would end up turning into useless scrap metal. Not much differece from what awaits for it inside. There really wouldn't be any difference between leaving it here or taking it to the city.
Nobody knows it's there.
...
Fern knows.
...
But no one else knows of its existence. Who would care?
...
It's down there suffering and nobody knows.
...
Fern knows.
...
Without realizing it she had stopped eating and was just playing with the fork. Let's see, on one hand we have: a damaged, defective and hyperactive robot in an abandoned facility in very poor condition an... give it an hour and a half by hovercraft away from the city, without much chance of repair or survival in or out of this place, not to mention the lack of knowledge about its model. On the other hand we have: guilt.
On the one hand: Fern wouldn't feel right just leaving it here, Sun has autonomy and in the time they have known each other it has demonstrated enough intelligence to have its own opinions and make decisions for itself, it clearly has a developed AI so it is capable of feeling emotions; in other words, its suffering is real and it is morally wrong to leave it like this. On the other hand: she wouldn't know where to put it, as said before, there is no space at home and Fern has neither the resources nor the time to take care of it, they wouldn't accept it in a job or company because it already belongs to one, on top of it with a bad reputation. The refuge is an option but it wouldn't help much, it could end up becoming a burden and may not end up getting along with the other bots that are already there.
What will win in the end? Rationality or morality? The crushing and tormenting feeling of guilt! Of course! That's why Fern is sitting curled up in a ball, perforating with their gaze at the half-eaten rice and chicken, unable to make up their mind. She could at least try. Try... something. Even if it's just, paying them a visit? She already promised them that she would come back tomorrow. At the very least she should go see them tomorrow, she doesn't have to go every time, she doesn't have to repair it either. Maybe keeping company is enough? From the looks of it, it doesn't seem like it has much of its lifespan left... Oh God, she's really considering doing this.
For now, Fern will worry about finishing their meal and driving back to the town. She'll think better about it when she gets home.
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ya-killin-me-smalls · 7 months
Text
Deimos x teammate ship headcanons that no one asked for but the thoughts are stuck in my brain so I'm making it your problem
Sanmos:
The golden child of madness combat ships
- fell into place very naturally. there were no big conversations about the mutual interest or what the other was looking for, they just meshed together
- Sanford is incredibly fixated on Deimos. not in an obsessive manner, for the most part, he's just intrigued by him and feels responsible for his physical/emotional well being
- to Deimos, Sanford is safety. Sanford understands that he has a rough history and doesn't pressure him to talk about what's eating at him. the upside to this? Deimos feels like he can go to Sanford for support or advice when he wants it. the downside? Sanford tends to enable him when sometimes he really does need a push in the right direction, especially when it comes to his self-sabotaging tendencies
- they have their fights which usually results in yelling and then separating themselves to cool off before trying to readdress the issue. it doesn't happen often, only over major things in general, because Sanford knows Deimos can be more reactive than himself so he tends to just let the little things that irritate him slide. it's not worth picking a fight over to him
- they're both in work mode 96% of the time but when they're not their relationship becomes so passionate. there's so much want and need between them and those times are when they talk the least, having learned each other's cues and built their own silent language together
- they aren't perfect, but that's what happens when you throw two fucked up people together and give them only each other to rely on in such a dangerous world. they both have learned to see the silver lining of their shortcomings. at the end of the day, Deimos has taught Sanford so much patience, and Sanford reminds Deimos that it's okay and even good to be soft sometimes
- when Sanford is stressed he'll pull Deimos into his arms and just slow dance with him even if there's no music
- Deimos, regardless of work mode, will get random urges to bite his partner and he is naught but a slave to his desires. it doesn't usually draw blood. usually
- despite trying to discourage the habit for health reasons, Sanford finds Deimos smoking to be so hot sometimes. especially when he's freshly showered, relaxing, and just having a cigarette to wind down. it's classy but still rough around the edges and Sanford is a sucker for it
- they both use a lot of pet names but Sanford's are usually more romantic/endearing and Deimos's are more playful but no less affectionate
Hankmos:
So delicate but always dancing near the edge of toxic
- Well-meaning but emotionally disconnected meets undyingly loyal but anxiously attached
- Hank feels. something for Deimos. he wouldn't call it love, or like even. those just aren't words that he'd associate with the feeling and he's spent more time deliberating on this than he would most things. Hank is fond of him, he finds him entertaining and nice to look at and listen to, he thinks he's useful on and off the battlefield, and in some ways he feels a sense of ownership over Deimos. not like he literally owns him, but he sees Deimos as an extension of himself, a part of himself, and in that regard a slight against Deimos is a slight against Hank. but he wouldn't call it love
- Deimos has so much admiration for Hank. he thinks Hank is cool as fuck even though he's a little weird and he would follow him off the edge of the earth if Hank asked him to
- would probably an emotionally dependent relationship if either of them stopped bottling things up and compartmentalizing
- but since they have no plans of doing that, there's instead a mutual understanding that sometimes one of them is just Not Good and doesn't wanna make it anyone else's problem
- not overly lovey-dovey with affection but it's tiny gestures that add up throughout the day. a squeeze of the shoulder, pat on the back, sometimes just standing or sitting close enough to touch but never fully indulging it when others are around. their hands linger when they make contact, always reluctant to break away
- when they are alone they cling to each other in a way they never have anyone else. they talk, usually about the mission but every now and then about "us." they don't know what to call it, try as they might to find the words together. but they bring each other peace and that's all that matters
- bonding via sparring matches that usually end in heated makeout sessions on the mats. they're both brimming with rage and aggression 25/8 and they take it out on each other in a controlled environment where they don't feel like they have to hold back anything
- Hank likes picking Deimos up. Deimos's opinions on this are irrelevant
- Deimos has a certain fascination with Hank's hands and just how BIG they are
- Hank will spend hours littering kisses all over the soft, most vulnerable parts of Deimos's body (throat, lower abdomen, inner thighs, etc). it isn't so much a dominance thing as it is the fact that Deimos let's him, Hank JMotherfucker Wimbleton, living weapon and Nevada's most wanted, touch places that would be so easy to hurt, especially when teeth and the metal jaw are involved. it makes him feel a Certain Way and seeing Deimos so flustered afterwards is like crack to him
2Bmos:
So very underrated but so much potential
- first, I don't see it happening the normal way
- Doc finds Deimos physically attractive and mentally intriguing, sure, but he is Busy and does not have time for stupid jokes and bright eyes and goofy smiles (no matter how handsome)
- Deimos, submissive in the way a guard dog is, probably doesn't realize he has feelings for 2B at all. like sure the guy makes him nervous sometimes and he likes working one on one with him and hearing his voice over the radio and he's risking his life on the daily for this man because he believes his vision so much and he'd paint the streets red with blood, doesn't matter whose, if it meant Doc would clap him on the shoulder and praise him for a job well done. but that doesn't mean anything, right? he just looks up to him is all
- no, these two are socially inept in the same way and it's like trying to watch the windows screen saver hit a corner but it just keeps Missing The Point
- fortunately, I think they're both very susceptible to trauma bonding via shared horrific experience :)
- they don't ever talk about it after the fact, like never
- but 2B is riddled with guilt because Deimos follows HIM and he put them both in that situation. he deals with a lot of anxiety over Deimos's well being after the fact, but he's self aware enough to not let it get in the way of the mission
- if he assigns Deimos more desk work and puts him in the field less often, it isn't worth mentioning
- Deimos feels the opposite. inadequacy complex be damned, he truly believes he wouldn't have made it without Doc there by his side. reverse savior complex, if you will
- in the early stages I think they were probably heavily dependent on each other emotionally, Doc needing constant reassurance that Deimos is okay and Deimos being so devoted that the thought of upsetting 2B has him spiralling
- socially inept and a little fucked up, but they communicate well with each other. they never talk about It but things come to a head and they start having serious talks about boundaries that they need to have if they're going to make this work
- in time, they help each other heal and the relationship between them grows
- y'know that one quote about two people wanting each other in the way flesh wants to knit itself over a wound? that is them
- they're very physically affectionate with each other, despite what one might expect. like if they're in the same room, they're going to be sitting together or holding hands or something. touch keeps them both grounded in the moment
- they suck at expressing emotions verbally so there aren't any real pet names between them, unless 'Doc' qualifies. Deimos will call him 'Doctor' sometimes but that's usually when he's trying to be a tease
- both massive hypocrites which works in some ways because 2B will be up at 2am doing something and catch Deimos up as well, get on his case about sleeping, and then they'll bicker in a circle until both of them end up cuddled up in bed together
- Doc is naturally cold and Deimos is a walking furnace. they'll spend as much time as they can wrapped up in blankets together, hands laced together, pressing gentle kisses anywhere they can reach without moving too much
- Doc adores Deimos's fangs. he's always been fond of dangerous things and Dei is no exception
- Deimos will come massage 2B's shoulders when he's been cooped up for what Deimos deems to be too long. Doc melts once Deimos starts kissing the nape of his neck
- overall, I think they present the most opportunity for growth to each other. Deimos feels genuinely understood by Doc and Doc knows that he can let his guard down completely when they're together
I have so much brainrot about these little dudes right now please let me talk your ears off about the intricacies of their relationships with each other I promise I won't bite
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tralalalalally · 2 months
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Some sketches of headcanons for Maedhros' body-type, tattoos, and scars.
I will give a warning for talk on poor mental and physical health before my notes:
. His body-type in particular is something he specifically works for - before Thangorodrim I think he had the more stereotypical elf-prince body (his mother-name is "well-formed", yes?) - something classically desireable. After his capture, the mix of starvation and hard physical labour made him unhealthily lean. After being rescued he was able to build up body fat again, but instead of regaining his old body he works for this new one. Something undeniably strong, untouchable, a warriors body further exaggerated. Not only does he want to distance himself from the perfection of the old him, he wants to make sure noone looking at him could see him as weak. I doubt he'd remember at least the first few months after his rescue well, but from what he does, he feels ashamed. Hiding, cowing away in fear like a child, striking out at those trying to help, revealing far too much of his trauma from the enemy. Emotion becomes a weakness to him, and he learns to control that, but then as he heals further he seeks control over his body too. I think he might eventually see himself - both body and soul - like a project similar to the construction and ruling of Himring. Especially I imagine a disconnect from his body - it is something to be built up, made strong and impenetrable, anything to not be harmed and tormented again.
. The most important scars for my headcanon (other than his missing hand of course) are the brand on his shoulder and the whip marks on his back. The brand effects him the most, and is something he covers as much as possible. None would know about it other than Findekano, Makalaure, and a few healers. Unfortunately due to it being raised, it cannot be tattooed over (nor do I think he'd be able to sit through any tattoos). I am thinking of designing some type of clothing that would essentially be part of his underwear, something that would keep it covered as often as possible - goes over the shoulder, wrapping around his body to beneath the right arm pit?
For the whip scars - when first brought to Thangorodrim he would sometimes be put to work with the other thralls. This was meant to be demoralising, the thralls seeing their prince/king reduced to this, and to show Maedhros how much had been taken from him. Of course the scars healed poorly and were often infected (I think with the brand, it may have been purposefully aggravated to make the scarring worse), though due to his positioning he got enough medical care to keep him alive. Now that he is free they still give him trouble - mobility issues from ones that cut into muscle, and the scarring itself makes the flesh stiff and less flexible. There is also a lack of feeling for most of the area.
. Tattoos - I honestly don't have any real sure designs or positioning fro them. My main thought was the vision of a tattoo of the 8 pointed star, broken up and faded due to scarring caused at Thangorodrim. You can still tell what the tattoo is of, but it has undeniably been damaged. I think I'd like to design for him a large back tattoo - star of Feanor in the middle, with other references surrounding it. Then, of course, the whip scars on top.
(Ah, and for body hair: I imagine elves can grow it, just usually not as thick. I think I remember reading that some can grow beards in old age? (As with Cirdan), so why not the same for body hair lol. I mean, humans also only get most after puberty)
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centaurianthropology · 8 months
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Why Spenser Starke is a Fantastic Horror GM (and the Core Fantasy in Candela Obscura)
So, I have seen some rancid takes about Spenser Starke online. Less so on this webbed site, largely because people around here are not in a pissing contest to prove who’s the most cynical, superior, and dickish. But there have still been some mind-blowing ones, from “he says UM too much” (guess who else does that? Brennan, but I don’t see these people criticizing him), or “he describes scenes like shots in a movie and that’s BAD WRONG” (while you might not stylistically enjoy it, I for one adore seeing a new interpretation of how to narrate while GMing, and think he’s doing great).
But the two that rub me the wrong way most are that he “controls the narrative too tightly” and doesn’t allow the characters to meander too long before throwing them back into the narrative, and that he’s “too harsh” in that even mixed successes tend to net characters damage of some sort. I saw accusations of “GM vs Player” mentality, but everyone was clearly enjoying themselves and the experience.
And that, I think, highlights the fundamental disconnect between these complainers and what’s actually happening on the screen: they don’t understand the core experience.
They have likely never played horror TTRPGs. They may have never played TTRPGs period, and instead are armchair DMs based purely on how Matt and Brennan DM, not really understanding that there are a thousand other ways to DM. But if they have played TTRPGs, I would guess that they’ve exclusively played D&D or its ilk. And I say that because there’s a very clear belief here that empowerment and ‘winning the game’, as well as wandering about freely to create your own narrative at your own pace are all fundamental parts of the TTRPG experience as a whole. But they aren’t. They’re fundamental to D&D, yes, but this is not what players come to a game like Candela Obscura for.
Each TTRPG has a central fantasy playing out. In D&D it’s heroic empowerment. D&D is mechanically built around getting more and more power and eventually defeating the big bad. A good GM in D&D, like Matt Mercer, focuses on giving out challenges, but always helping their players strive to overcome and grow and become better. This self-actualization is at the heart of the experience.
Horror games are not about that at all. The closest to that fantasy is something like ‘Vampire the Masqerade’ or other World of Darkness games, which do feature power growth, but the core fantasy is actually about learning that you are a monster. And embracing power will lead to even greater monstrousness. The horror in games like this is both political and personal, and the system is mechanically built to accommodate that horror.
And if you watch LA by Night or NY by Night, you’ll actually see that Jason Carl employs a fairly similar narrative tightness to his storytelling as that of Spenser Starke. Because a huge part of horror is about establishing and maintaining a mood. To do that, a DM has to keep a tighter rein on pacing, cutting from scene to scene and moment to moment in a way that is more directed than in D&D, because that helps establish and maintain the vibe being created.
Candela Obscura plays, thematically, a lot like one of my favorite games to run: ‘Call of Cthulhu’. CoC is a game all about disempowerment. The power differential between the players and the monsters is vast. Combat is vicious, short, and deadly, and direct combat almost always ends badly for an investigator. There is an entire chapter devoted to running away for a reason.
Both CoC and Candela are built on danger, vulnerability, and a constant sense of tension. And Spenser is fantastic at all of these. He keeps his narrative laser focused, moving between moments rapid-fire to keep up that tension, and to introduce new dangers. He is a ‘vicious’ DM only in so much as even mixed successes hurt. But this also keeps the tension up by keeping the characters and players on the edges of their seats. They are almost never safe. They are almost never well. They are constantly juggling dwindling resources. They are underpowered, vulnerable, and afraid.
And that’s the core fantasy here: exploring fear in a safe way. Being stressed out in a way you can leave behind as soon as the scene is done. Constantly living on the edge, fighting the odds, and knowing that you likely won’t succeed or will only do so at great cost. And he is masterfully keeping that intensity running through each session.
He gives characters time to talk about themselves, time for scenes to play out, until he feels the tension begin to flag, and then he pushes on. He never lets the air go entirely out of the narrative sails. He has a great sense of when a character needs a moment (his use of the red PTSD lighting exemplifies how closely he’s paying attention to his players and adjusting the setting to fit their moods). He sometimes pushes on, gets pushback from a player who wants another beat, and is always happy to give that to them. He keeps the pace up, but is always very careful to make sure his players have what they need to still enjoy this particular experience.
All this is to say that Spenser is absolutely killing it at being an exemplary horror GM. His sense of pacing and tension, his ability to direct action while still always embracing player autonomy, and using the mechanics of the system to never allow them to feel entirely safe are all great tools in a horror GM’s toolkit.
Horror games are not for everyone. Certainly there are plenty of people who only ever want the hero fantasy of D&D, but I think it’s important to recognize what the goal of a game is, and what constitutes success within those parameters, rather than parameters that only exist in an audience member’s mind, because they don’t really get how horror games work.
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heinousactszx · 4 months
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In your opinion how did the open world format work for pokemon legends of arceus? Is there anything you would have changed about it?
TLDR, i think it worked fantastically. but in order to get into why, i think i need to get into why the open world of SV (and to a lesser extent swsh) did NOT work.
It's practically one of my mantras at this point, but an open world game can have an explorable space as big as the real world itself; it's not going to be fun to play if it's not worth exploring. that means having interesting locales, secrets and new abilities to find, and exciting challenges to seek out.
Scarlet and violet... Don't really have that. the only thing you can really find in the game are, well, pokemon. Yeah yeah I know there's trainers and the treasures of ruin and maybe a raid battle, but overwhelmingly what you're finding in that big open world is pokemon. And the fun of discovering them sort of pales when really all you can do with that discovery is add them to your team or your dex. Plus, unlike classic pokemon games, the removal of random encounters means there's no real reason to even engage with the pokemon you see once you're at a high enough level and have them in the dex. seriously, once you realize how much of SV is just walking around pokemon in the open world, you'll never unsee it
you could argue that having the choice to complete the 3 stories in any order you like is one of the things you can find. But when all of those events are tied to a structured level scale that doesn't change, your "choice" comes down to either running into fights that are way too hard and then abruptly way too easy, or playing in the exact order they want you to. not exactly enticing either way. Scarlet and violet probably would have just been better off as a more linear pokemon with typical hallway routes instead of spending all this time on an open world that rarely enhances any part of the experience (though i will admit running around with a friend in union circle is really fun)
ANYWAY to get back to what you actually asked, Legends arceus sidestepped this issue by making interacting with pokemon the entire gameplay loop. it was a stroke of genius to make completing the pokedex the main goal of the game, because unlike in the regular series, catching a pokemon does not tie the bow on it. No, in order to advance in the game and truly fill out the dex, you have to complete research tasks related to that pokemon. Hitting it with certain attacks, using items, number caught, number stunned, using certain moves, and so many more. some of them even have side-quests associated with them!
all of this encourages you to do more with the entirety of the world you're exploring than SV offered. switching up your team and trying new things to fill out dex entries is encouraged and gives so much variety to the actual experience of playing the game like you usually would. While there's actually less pokemon to find than in SV or swsh, improving the way you actually engage with all of them makes legends much more exciting to run around in.
not to mention, the game feel in legends is just better, flat out. walking around feels better, the ride pokemon are more fun, pokemon running from you or attacking you feels more immersive than the way they mostly just exist waddling around in the other switch games. It helps that legends, while having some performance issues, is nowhere near as bad as SV has it.
of course, the truth of the matter is that legends arceus is not truly an open world game. It's a series of large and open but disconnected areas accessible from a main hub, rather than one large contiguous gamespace. remoraid to my head, i think i'd pick the former every time. it gives the game more focused central game design and cuts out a lot of extra transient elements that don't really add that much. Running around a true open world is fun and all, but legends arceus would not have been a better game just because you could walk directly from one area to another, much in the same way that Scarlet and violet really aren't better games for it either
as for what i'd change? honestly? nothing. the gameplay loop of legends was so addicting that i did almost nothing but play it for weeks when it first came out. it was and is the best pokemon game in over a decade. in some ways i can't believe it's actually as good as it is. i remember being so anxious with a friend that it was going to be a disaster when it ended up being a masterpiece.
no, wait, what i'd change is game freak's awful habit of adding cool new features, like this entire game, and then never touching them again. make a sequel. pokemon legends kyurem. call me mr iwao i can make this work
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archivalofsins · 3 months
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Kotoko's first question is so boring- my god... Despite that I still have a good deal to say on it. So, let's get into it.
What's your ideal image of a hero?
Literally, what does that have to do with anything,
"Oh well she brings up heroes in her song a lot."
Okay, fine, whatever. My problem is the whole ideal thing. Firstly, ideals are things that are simply not realistic.
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Ideal
Satisfying one's conception of what is perfect; most suitable.
Existing only in the imagination; desirable or perfect but not likely to become a reality.
Meaning this is just what she would want it to be not the reality. The only thing interesting about her answer is that depending on how it's translated she's literally just describing Es.
Something that isn't new either because the first translation of Deep Cover in the MILGRAM/Song of Prisoners- The Second Trial Trailer highlighted that already by having the lyrics as,
"So, I became your fang. I've chosen the awaited hero."
Not having her say she's become the awaited hero but she's chosen the the awaited hero. The person that seems to embody those ideals. The official translation of Deep Cover adds more nuance to the song by making this line less direct.
Instead making it,
"That’s why I became your fangs as the long-awaited hero."
Leaving it up to interpretation whether Kotoko is referring to Es or herself. Yet that ambiguity is not present in the translation they have not changed from the second trial songs trailer. Where she just downright states she's chosen the awaited hero. Meaning the hero isn't her and never was.
Making this question at best only serve to reiterate something that had already been expressed not only implied in the official translation but bluntly stated in the first one we got.
The second issue is these are the types of ideals she looks for in a hero. She has never said she's wanted to be a hero or that she even strives to uphold or adhere to the image that she considers ideal of heroes. It's not like this question was what sort of hero do you strive to be what are morals you live by.
Because we asked that second question-
Q.12 What is your motto?
Kotoko: “There’s no other way that could let us live, so I walk this path.” [TN: Quote from Mushanokouji Saneatsu.]
This answer may just literally be disconnected from her as a person entirely. I personally believe that it is but everyone else is free to believe whatever they want. I don't know I guess it's kind of good to have this reiterated plainly but it's not anything new to me.
I guess the most interesting thing is the different ways it can be translated.
Something, @doctorbunny brought to my attention earlier.
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Which is the thing that made me go well she's just describing Es. Someone who aids the weak i.e agrees with those who they believe had very little options but to do the things they did. Such as the people they found innocent and discourages the strong or self-assured like with the people they found guilty.
The people they found guilty were the most committed to their decisions. Showed little issue with or anxiety over their actions and some still rightfully don't. Like Amane. If that's her definition of the strong she's a part of the strong.
Q.03 Do you think any other prisoners who committed the same sin as you deserve to be forgiven?
Kotoko: Of course. Haven’t I already said that I believe my actions have been correct?
Q.13 Do you have any regrets?
Kotoko: No.
Something that she's never done a thing to hide. She literally separates herself from the weak in her second trial voice line.
"From the beginning I've never asked for your understanding! My actions, one by one, are bringing earth closer to peace. Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!"
So, at best this just shows nothing new because she's exactly the same and may probably never change or at worst downright displays she does not consider herself a hero or weak.
Something that is subtly highlighted in her second voice drama. When she again separates herself from Es and other people with those idealized mindsets from herself as being unwilling to do what is necessary to truly get what they claim to be seeking.
Yonah
How ridiculous… It's always like this… All of you weaklings always act like this… All of you enjoy seeing someone getting hurt… Might be so. All of you enjoy seeing a bad person falling down… Can't deny. You keep asking for it, but as soon as it happens near you by your own choice, you all start complaining and evading your responsibility… You're always like this… Always such idiots! I acknowledge it. You're the strong one, and we're weak. You're right. But that's how we are.
Es, even downright stating that she's strong. Something that Kotoko does not dispute. In fact she actively agrees with that statement.
You have no power, and yet you make no effort to gain it! You're talking about justice, but it just doesn't make sense! You're invested in people's disasters, yet you take a position of "I have nothing to do with it"! You can't even face your true selves! Whatever you say. If you brag about hating evil, act against it! Carry on the belief that your actions can change this world! If you only brag about it from afar, the world will just continue to rot no matter how many of you are there! If you don't have strength on your own, let me take care of it, Es! I can do it in MILGRAM!
Because she's strong and does have power she can do it.
Q.18 Have you ever personally been persecuted in the past?
Kotoko: I haven’t. But are you trying to say that if you haven’t had those experiences, you can’t hate evildoers?
Because she doesn't hold herself to the same limitations as those weaklings that believe in those heroic ideals. She can walk the path necessary to get to the desired outcome. Because the means don't matter.
Q.15 Which is more important, the objective or the means?
Kotoko: Objective. Does that not go without saying?
Only the outcome does; useless weaklings holding onto silly moral rules like not hitting children- Should let her handle it if they don't have the stomach for it.
Ah, about that... My apologies. I couldn't give enough pain to Kayano Mikoto and Momose Amane. ..! You..! I attacked everyone in order, but because of the interference caused by Kayano Mikoto and Mukuhara Kazui, who was protecting Kajiyama Fuuta, I couldn't finish it properly. But I was still able to do some damage. After attacking Shiina Mahiru, I had no time left for Momose Amane. You've planned... on attacking Amane too? That's right. You haven't forgiven her, so wouldn't it be justified? But she's just a child... So what? This "child" is kept here because she murdered a person, isn't she? Right... You thought I won't attack her because of the young age? Sorry for disappointing you. It's all because of my lack of strength.
It wasn't because of Amane's age she just lacked the strength to do it. It was all because Mikoto and Kazui intervened. Kotoko bluntly admits that stating she attacked the prisoners in order and stating that Mikoto interfered. Not that she attacked him.
Meaning this is more than likely what occurred.
Kotoko attacked Futa- Kazui intervened then probably went to Shidou to request help after Kotoko fell back. Not really expecting her to attack anyone else. This would explain why Kazui said this to Shidou on Amane's birthday-
22/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)
Kazui: What’s up, Shidou-kun? You’re looking pretty down. I guess you must be tired, I’ve been relying on you a lot lately. Shidou: Yeah, I just remembered…… today is Amane’s birthday. I’m just getting a bit sentimental. Kazui: Hmm, it’s unfortunate, but at the moment we can’t worry about that. ……you understand, right? There’s something that you need to do right now. And if you tried talking to her your words definitely won’t reach her. Don’t look at me like that. We’ll just wait until the situation changes. Let’s do our best. Shidou: Yeah. I’ll do what I can. I can’t have a child making a face like that. Even though we’re “murderers”…… we’re also the adults here.
It would also explain his statements on being too slow when it came to Kotoko attacking Mahiru. Something Kotoko blatantly admits to doing and I have no reason to believe she'd lie about. If he was looking for Shidou that would explain why it took him a bit and why Mahiru was able to get treatment so quickly.
Just gotta emphasize again that Kotoko states that Mikoto interfered so got the jump on her this time. So while Kazui was attempting to find Shidou, Mikoto more than likely intervened in the midst of Kotoko attacking Mahiru or heading for Amane. Which would explain why he tells her this.
22/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday)
Mikoto: Ah, Koto-chan. It’s been a while Both of us have kinda split off from the group, but how’ve things been? A lot’s happened, but for now let’s try to get along. I mean, it’s your birthday today, right? I got the feeling nobody else was going to do anything, so I came to celebrate. Kotoko: ……how carefree. It doesn’t matter, a villain like you won’t be forgiven next time either. And when that time comes, it’ll be the end for you. I’ll make sure of it myself. Mikoto: Ahh?? Just try and do it, you nutjob. I’ll crush anyone who hurts me…… You’re gonna be totally beaten at your own game……! [TN: The word “me” here uses first person pronoun “boku”.] Kotoko: Hm. The border between the two is getting a lot vaguer. Your entire existence is a crime. And I will see you’re punished for it. That is what Milgram, and Es, and I have chosen.
Mikoto stating a lot has happened but let's get along for now. Again showing he knows that something has occurred but is being vague about it. Given she says Mikoto interfered she was not directly attacking him when he did. Which is very funny considering he just used payback and went about his day.
He saw her attacking someone like he was when she attacked him in his first voice drama and went hey how do you like it. Then she said not at all. She admitted in her voice drama that it was disruptive and stopped her from completing what she set out to do which is why she's so mad during that birthday interaction.
Meaning Kotoko more than likely doesn't have that much access to verdicts and was simply going off of her own observations when it came to discerning who was guilty as displayed over the course of the portal timelines during trial one.
21/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday)
Haruka: Ah…… H-happy birthday, Kotoko-san. Kotoko: ……thanks. You’ve definitely changed a bit. Do you remember before? You could barely even talk to me. Haruka: I-is that so? Now that you mention it, I, I maybe have got a bit better since then. ……m-maybe I’ve got more used to being around people. There’s other people here who are interested in me, and, um, in particular Mu-san pays a lot of notice to me…… I… I’m enjoying myself here…… Kotoko: ……hmm. It’s just a theory I have right now, but I get the feeling the outcome of Milgram’s judgements are having some influence on our mental state. Well, I only noticed because I happened to be last up though. Good for you, then. This must mean that you’re fine. ……I’ll accept those birthday wishes.
21/10/24 (Shidou’s Birthday)
Shidou: ……oh, Yuzuriha-kun. It’s unusual so see you around this early. Wishing me a happy birthday…… probably isn’t the what you’re here for, huh. Kotoko: No, it is. Happy birthday, Shidou. Though it’s not like I bought you a present or anything. But while I’m here, I’d also like to ask you something. Has anything changed for you recently? Having nightmares, hearing voices, feeling anxious…… anything like that. Shidou: Not especially, no. ……ah, so this is about how Kajiyama-kun and Shiina-kun have been strange recently? And she’s been trying to hide it, but Amane too…… We’ve been living in these conditions for a while…… it’s not unusual for there to be an impact on us mentally. Are you worried about them? You’re a very caring person. Kotoko: Hmm, so you noticed? If nothing’s wrong with you, then that’s good. ……if I’ve understood properly, that means you’re safe……Once again, happy birthday, Kirisaki Shidou.
Even though Shidou just lists off all the guilties for her... He does point out that regardless it doesn't mean much especially considering their circumstances. It just wouldn't be odd for people to get more stressed out in this situation after a certain point. This is why in her voice drama she asks for confirmation from Es that Amane was guilty because she really didn't know she just fucking guessed for all of them and acted anyhow. At least she was right.
I mean some people could have just been having a bad time and been innocent like Yuno but still could have gotten jumped based on her logic. So, it's more likely that she didn't base what she did on guilty percentage but just prisoner number.
Apologies for the tangent. Ultimately Kotoko states she can do it within Milgram because she's already done the same thing outside of it. She knows she can do it. That she's no weakling like the rest. She's strong so-
Useless weaklings should just shut up and let me protect them!
All the people who aren't should just stay out of her way. The awaited hero will be someone who can help the weak and discourage the strong. Someone who can see that what she did was right. Someone who understands because they're human after all but also someone committed enough to not let their emotions get the best of them. Someone who can-
Say that sympathy is useless.
And
Hate evil as the evil that it is.
Someone like Es who states they won't go easy on someone just because they're a friend. In Futa's second voice drama. Someone who's choices have caused those they've disagreed with immense mental anguish. That some have stated was worst than being physically beat up.
Causing them to keep hearing voices telling them that they were wrong while feeling constantly watched and judged. Causing them to feel insecure, anxious, and waver in their beliefs or dissociate. Something Kotoko states she's recognized in her second voice drama and that it isn't much better from her physicially injuring them.
That's why when I saw this answer I immediately thought she was describing Es.
Still this answer shows that Kotoko doesn't really care what type of violence is used to crush/dissuade the strong be it physical or emotional/mental. As long as someone can do that and is aiding who she believes to be the weak that's a hero in her book. It's quite funny that no one has asked her to define who she considers to be the weak. Yet, I doubt that would look as good as having her repeat her very barebones explaination on the good/evil, strong/weak dichotomy she's created.
This elicited a very wow tell me something I don't know response.
Q.20  What do you consider “evil”?
Kotoko: The persecution of the weak and innocent.
Q.16  How do you feel about extenuating circumstances?
Kotoko: I think it’s important to consider. I don’t believe it’s true that all crime is inherently evil, so obviously the situation should be taken into account.
Because the weak and innocent in Kotoko's eyes doesn't just equal someone that is objectively good or an individual being persecuted unjustly. The meaning changes based on the circumstance. Something I find funny because she can be so specific when it fits her needs but continues to describe these things with such subjective language and very little detail. That's odd to me and makes it difficult for me to not go well great here's some more shit we already knew.
Literally if she did what Kazui did with that one questions that would have been more interesting.
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beesmygod · 4 months
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I saw your answer about art experiences. How do you feel things from literature? I am consistently disconnected from things I try to feel from, like I read The Glass Menagerie and it was good, even, but nothing came of it, and usually it is so much less than that.
I thought it might be something like Having A Coke With You, where the art is superceded by real human relationships — and I actually did understand Having A Coke With You for a while, and it was kind of incredible, but now I look at descriptions that resonated me not two months ago and they're just empty. I don't think having friends did that.
I just want this to be me, I want to feel things so much, especially without looking on it from a consumer's perspective (cf. rayne fisher-quam's standing on the shoulders of complex female characters), which I feel is hindering all of this. I feel like I'm missing out on one of the great experiences of life, the connection and meaning that comes from art.
I watched Greg Guevara's video on art experiences, where he said that everyone is overstimulated and spreading out their art experiences into meaningless social media bits, and I don't know how to change that. I saw a play today and I didn't understand it and I was bored, even, and it didn't change me. I needed it to change me into someone who loved it.
I read Anna Karenina in eighth grade and pushed through it and it was a comfort book and I related to Levin but I don't think I understood it, even (I don't have the book anymore). My friend – I have a bad habit of comparing myself to others, I know, but it's relevant – reads Crime and Punishment and feels things. I couldn't even get through the first part of War and Peace.
I'm sorry for the scatteredness, I write on my phone and I find it difficult to organize my thoughts here. I'm sorry for sending this to you, and I hope you feel free to delete it. Lastly, I'm sorry if you cannot answer this, if this is outside your experience.
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i have a weird framing and personal philosophy about this subject that i hope does not come off as unsatisfactory to you but bear with me. i'm pretty sure i know this feeling; this is the feeling i get when i'm exposed to the wondrous, marvelous beauty of unspoiled nature. i could not give two shits about the glorious national parks of this genuinely gorgeous country despite my family dragging me all over the continental US for summer break as far as the family van would take us. i have seen some of the most spectacular sights this country can offer, from the grand canyon to the redwoods of california to the devils tower to yellowstone and so many more. and i tell you i stare at it dead-eyed like a fish. i know i should be feeling something, everyone else is. but when i see old faithful erupt all i could think about was how i could see water at home. absolutely 0 spiritual or emotional connection. even landscape paintings leave me cold. i can appreciate and understand the aesthetic value in what i'm seeing, but its like it stops at my eyes and never penetrates my brain.
but i have just accepted that there are things i simply will not be able to experience in my lifetime. this has always been the case for me being less than 5 ft tall with most things in life, but dont read that as self-pitying lore dropping. because the secret is that it's not really that big of a deal to not be able to do things. i might have 0 memories of yellowstone that aren't "insane thing that happened to us" but as an adult i can pursue things i actually do like instead of trying to force myself to FEEL something my brain isn't wired for.
maybe your relationship with reading is the same. you understand literature's grand purpose in the wide tapestry of history or whatever and have seen people have rapturous moments of artistic connection with specific books, but that experience is completely foreign to you. you can even read a book and enjoy it, like how i think the prismatic spring IS pretty fucking sick, but whatever ethereal feeling youre supposed to feel never materialize. thankfully, i promise you that its not a big deal. and now i never have to visit a national park again until i force my children to go see them because it's good for them or whatever. i can sit at home and experience art i DO get that feeling from.
anyway, in short: read things with no expectations of how you're "supposed" to feel about them and just enjoy a pretty good story. keep throwing yourself into artistic pursuits you do enjoy and feel connected to. and try new ones! you never know what will activate your brain
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