#but the rest of it is not worth it in comparison. maybe its just from me using my hands in general but i still feel it i think

[chameleon-sting]

playing (still fighting for my life to not get randomly recommended spoilers for game ive avoided literally everything about since launch so) The Roman God Pluto But In Greek with a controller (thank you ability to set huge as fuck control stick dead zones and also my brother for lending me a more functional controller) was an extreme mistake because even on painful keyboard and mouse i had 20 hours over like 3 days just because i was so invested and having so much fun despite also definitely feeling my hands hurt and it now being more comfortable to actually keep playing has meant i am Not having drawing time but also im getting so much art fuel like. its so gorgeous and so ripe for study i love when the giant is super

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Six

Chapter Six: The Devil You Don’t

Plot: Y/n considers making a change and Richmond squares off against West Ham United.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: f!reader, language, (16+)

A/N: Missed therapy today, finished this. Silver linings, everybody…lol

—————

Y/n sat at her dining room table, staring at a single piece of mail. It was from her rental company. They were informing her that it was that magical time of year. She could either choose to sign for another year or vacate. It was a decision she’d been putting off making.

Living in downtown London didn’t make much sense now that she worked at Richmond. The commute was longer and God help it if there was traffic. Y/n lacked the social life she’d had in college and she had no partner to stay near.

There was no longer anything tying her there.

Moving to Richmond meant she was fully committing to the club. She’d kept one foot out the door since arriving, knowing that things could go downhill at any moment. But it had been nearly three months and, though challenging, she had no reason to leave or believe she’d be fired. Was it time to stop holding her breath?

She couldn’t make a decision from her apartment. She had to get out.

Grabbing her keys and purse, Y/n left her building and hopped in her car. She made the drive to the last place she’d expected to be on her day off, but the only place she felt like being.

In the heart of Richmond, Y/n parked on the curb, just near the Crown and Anchor. There was a coffee shop around the corner from it that Keeley had recommended to her. It seemed as good a time as ever to try it and take a stroll around the neighborhood.

Something about Richmond that differed from London was the atmosphere. It felt very small-townish, while still being a decent sized borough. The people were kind, greeting each other as they walked past. Men tipped their caps. Children ran free in the park. Couples strolled hand in hand. Y/n had never been a Hallmark movie kind of girl, but it felt like the only comparison to be made. The city seemed to wrap its arms around its people, giving them a safe place to end each day.

Sipping what turned out to be one of the best coffees she’d ever had, Y/n contemplated it all. All practicality aside, and she could barely admit it herself, but she almost, kind of, sort of, possibly, maybe…wanted to live in Richmond.

She made her way towards the park, watching kids burn off their weekend energy and families taking their infants on morning walks. What she hadn’t expected to see was anyone she knew. A few feet away, Jamie was doing sets of burpees while Roy sat and watched. Out of politeness, Y/n had nearly approached when Jamie bent over, letting the contents of his stomach empty.

Roy sensed someone was near and twisted to find Y/n standing behind him. As awful sounds escaped Jamie, his coach smiled, as much as Roy Kent did smile, and nodded, “Morning.”

Y/n watched the scene with reserved concern and wild confusion. “Should I be worried about any of this?”

“No,” Roy answered, taking a bite of his breakfast sandwich in the most unbothered fashion, “He’s fine.”

Jamie’s body finally let him breathe and he glanced up, spotting Y/n. He gave her a quick nod before resuming his workout.

Y/n’s brows stayed creased as she raised her coffee cup to them, toasting the strange moment. “Okay,” she said, leaving them to the rest of their day.

There was a part of her brain that told Y/n it was crazy to move even a mile closer to the insanity that was AFC Richmond. Living further away gave her a barrier, an extra layer of protection. If she came to live there, she’d lose it.

And the other part of her mind decided that, much like with the job, it might be worth putting up with.

—————————

The next day, Y/n stopped by the KJPR office to grab some papers from Keeley. Something about an endorsement deal for one of the boys.

“Oh, I wanted to tell you,” Keeley said before Y/n headed back out, “Our backer’s coming to town and wants to come to the West Ham match.”

“Okay,” Y/n said, “Great.”

“And they want to meet us,” Keeley continued.

“Okay,” Y/n repeated with a shrug.

Keeley paused, waiting for some reaction that Y/n wasn’t giving her. “And I’m sort of freaking the fuck out,” she finished.

“What’s there to be nervous about?” Y/n asked, holding the folder of papers to her chest, “Corporate bigwigs are all the same. They’re barely even interested in meeting the people that make them rich.”

“Yeah, but I’ve never met any,” Keeley gestured to herself, “This is all new and I don’t know what I’m supposed to wear or say or do.”

As much as Y/n knew Keeley and her came from different backgrounds, they’d developed such a solid work relationship that Y/n sometimes forgot she’d never functioned in the corporate world.

“Look,” Y/n said softly, taking a seat across from Keeley, “It’s polite chitchat, making sure they’re having a good time and maybe dodging a few bad attempts at flirting if it’s an older guy.”

Keeley’s pouted lips finally cracked and she chuckled.

“It’s not a big deal,” Y/n reassured, “Really. Just be you and you’ll charm the metaphorical pants off of them.”

Keeley smiled as she reached over the desk and threw her arms around Y/n’s neck. Y/n nearly stumbled in her heels and grabbed onto Keeley for balance.

“Thank you,” Keeley said over Y/n’s shoulder.

A hug certainly crossed all professional boundaries Y/n had set up. But Keeley needed comfort more than Y/n needed to feel protected, so she patted her boss’s back and let it happen.

—————————

The big day had arrived.

Richmond vs. West Ham.

Y/n was up early, even though the match wasn’t till the afternoon. She went for a morning run, got a tea and returned home where there was nothing to do but anxiously fidget till it was time to get ready.

This wasn’t just Greyhounds against Hammers. This was Rebecca against Rupert. Ted, Beard and Roy against Nathan. All of AFC Richmond was being watched. And while Y/n was practically invisible, she was feeling the same pit in her stomach as if the tabloids were speculating about her.

Pulling up to the stadium, Y/n was in awe of its size. It was at least three Nelson Road Stadiums. She headed through the side entrance where VIPs and press came through and spotted Rebecca and Keeley waiting for her.

“Alright,” Y/n announced her presence as she passed through the metal detector, “Here we go.”

Keeley turned to Y/n, “You think I look alright, yeah? Good enough to impress Jack?”

Y/n scanned Keeley’s outfit, it was one of the first times she’d seen her out of her signature shade of pink. “You look great,” she replied.

“Shit, I’m nervous,” Keeley confided in the two women, “I think I need to go and reapply my lip liner.”

Something about the way Rebecca nodded and told Keeley they’d see her in the suite told Y/n there was more to her words.

“Men can have codes for the loo,” Rebecca shrugged, sensing Y/n had picked up on it, “Why can’t we?”

“Oh, that’s brilliant,” Y/n’s head whipped around to follow Keeley.

The two women shared a laugh before turning towards the escalator. Rebecca froze after her first step step and Y/n bumped into her, grabbing onto her boss to barely keep her balance.

“Hey, Rebecca,” Rupert greeted, a gorgeous, young blonde on his arm.

“Rupert,” Rebecca was quick to reply.

Y/n caught herself before she gave her shock away. This was Rupert?

“Wonderful to see you,” the man replied warmly, undertones of ice seeping through.

“Bex,” Rebecca nodded to her replacement, “Love the new hair.”

“I haven’t changed my hair,” Bex replied in confusion.

“Nor should you,” Rebecca saved herself, “It’s perfection. Uh, may I introduce our newest member of AFC Richmond,” she gestured to Y/n, “This is Ms. Y/n Y/l/n.”

Y/n hesitatingly stepped forward, trying to mask her disdain under a smile. “Lovely to meet you,” she shook Bex’s hand first before Rupert’s.

“Lovely to meet you,” Rupert replied, his eyes sliding down Y/n’s figure before coming back up to meet her eyes, “How are you liking Richmond?”

Any negative thoughts Y/n had about the job or her co-workers left her head. No ammunition could be given, nor was she going to let the man who was checking her out while holding his wife’s hand feel validated in anything.

“It’s exceeding all my expectations,” Y/n lied with a grin that could have fooled anyone.

“Ah,” Rupert smiled back, watching his ex-wife’s new hire like a bird did its prey.

Rebecca could sense the additional discomfort and changed the subject. “So, how’s the little one?”

“Oh yeah, Diane,” Rupert replied proudly, nearly coaxing a liquid-less spit take from Y/n, “She’s already walking. Can you believe that? Yeah, drooling and pooing around the house.”

“Takes after her father,” Bex spoke up.

Rebecca managed to maintain her composure better than Y/n, who made sure to share the laugh with Bex.

Rupert looked less than thrilled with the joke and moved on quickly. “Well. Hey,” he looked back to his ex-wife, “Take it easy on us today.”

“No promises,” Rebecca said as the couple walked off.

Standing a bit awestruck at the barely concealed audacity of Rupert, Y/n stood beside her boss, trying to process the interaction.

“Thoughts?” Rebecca asked.

Y/n paused to think over her reply, “I feel like I need to strip out of my skin.”

“Yeah,” Rebecca breathed, “That’s about right. Let’s go.”

With that, they headed for the elevator up to the suites. While riding up, Y/n said a prayer to the higher power of football that the Greyhounds would be particularly ruthless on the pitch. A man like Rupert could not be allowed a win.

Up in the suites, Rebecca and Y/n spotted Higgins standing with Barbara, Shandy and a short haired brunette woman.

“Ah, Y/n, Rebecca,” Higgins flagged them down, “May I introduce, Ms. Jack Danvers.”

Once again, just barely concealing her surprise, Y/n immediately went into business mode, firmly shaking Jack’s hand.

“It’s great to meet you, Jack,” she smiled.

“You as well,” Jack replied, her lips forming an ‘o’ after, “You wouldn’t happen to be the same Y/n that headed up the managerial team at Microdom, would you?”

Y/n’s eyes widened, “I would be.”

Jack chuckled, “Gary Lawson’s a family friend. He sang your praises over a dinner once.”

“Well, nothing pairs better with red wine and chicken than talking about your employees,” Y/n quipped, dropping Jack’s hand.

“On the contrary,” Jack smiled, “I feel much better knowing the money’s going toward hard-working hands.”

“Hard-working,” Barbara spoke up, grinning uncharacteristically big, “Absolutely. She’s a wonder.”

Out of all the odd moments so far in the day, a cheery Barbara was the strangest, Y/n decided.

“Oh, yes,” Rebecca placed a hand on Y/n’s shoulder, “Y/n is extraordinary. One of our hardest workers.”

Y/n smiled up at Rebecca, she wasn’t used to her bosses being so willing to help facilitate her success.

“Well, Keeley’s really the one you need to meet,” Y/n passed the kindness on, “The brain behind the whole operation.”

“She’s absolutely fantastic,” Rebecca added.

“Oh, here she is now,” Barbara grinned.

Y/n and Rebecca split to make room for Keeley.

“Keeley?” Barbara gestured to her boss, “This is Jack Danvers.”

“Hello,” Jack stepped forward, “I believe you have something of mine.”

“Oh, fuck,” Keeley exclaimed, “You’re Jack? This is a bit embarrassing.”

Y/n could only imagine what that meant.

“Yeah, we all thought you were a man,” Shandy interjected.

“Yeah, that too,” Keeley agreed.

“It’s like that old riddle,” Higgins added.

“What riddle?” Rebecca asked.

“You know, always a tricky one, this one,” Higgins continued, “A father and son are in a car wreck. Dad dies instantly, the son is rushed to an emergency room. A surgeon walks in and says, ‘I can’t operate on this boy. He’s my son.’ How is it possible?”

The women all gave various answers, none of which Higgins had been waiting for.

“Right, yeah, I guess that’s a bit dated now,” Higgins recovered, “So, I assume ‘Jack’ is short for Jacqueline right?”

“No, it’s short for my father wanted a boy,” Jack answered.

0 for 2, Higgins turned to the group, “I’m gonna go and sit down now, outside. Now.”

Y/n stifled a laugh while Rebecca invited Jack to get a drink, Barbara trailing very close behind them. Y/n hung back with Keeley and Shandy.

“Barbara’s obsessed with Rebecca,” Shandy leaned in to tell them, “I hope she doesn’t try and kill her and wear her skin as a suit.”

Shandy raised a knowing eyebrow before heading off to join the women at the bar, leaving Keeley and Y/n dumbstruck.

“What the fuck?” Keeley whispered.

“Hey,” Y/n nudged Keeley with her elbow, “Breathe.”

Keeley squeezed Y/n’s arm in silent thanks as they went off together.

—————————

It wasn’t until the Greyhounds came onto the pitch that Y/n truly felt the sympathy nerves. Finally enjoying attending the matches mixed with finally having experienced Rupert’s arrogance and assholery had sparked a flame within her. It was a fraction, she suspected, of what Rebecca felt.

Throughout the game, Richmond held their own, but couldn’t seem to get past the Hammer’s defense. Zoreaux, who was going by Van Damme for unknown reasons, managed to block a goal. At one point, Jamie attempted to make a goal himself when it was clear an extra pass should have been made to Zava.

“Zava was wide open,” Rebecca exclaimed as the ball bounced off the net.

Y/n sighed, remembering her and Jamie’s conversation earlier in the week. That one was entirely on him.

Nearing the end of the first half, the Hammers managed to sneak one more goal past the Greyhounds, securing a 2-0 score. Y/n watched Ted, Coach Beard and Roy panic from their side of the field while Nate Shelley screamed in victory.

“Shit,” Y/n muttered, sinking back in her seat. She glanced out the corner of her eye to where Rebecca’s eyes were trained to see Rupert, arrogantly giving a shrug.

Rebecca grabbed her purse and stood to her feet, purpose in her movement. “Excuse me,” she growled.

Y/n tucked herself in as her boss stalked down the aisle, she knew better than to stand in Rebecca’s way when she was on the hunt.

Halftime passed with polite conversation between the KJPR team. A perky Barbara was something neither Keeley or Y/n were used to, but they adjusted. Most of the time, Y/n was spent in anxious hope that Shandy wouldn’t say too much and plant any seeds of doubt in Jack’s head about the company’s abilities.

When Rebecca returned, she looked to be in much better spirits. Y/n waited expectantly for an answer, Rebecca simply smiled and settled back into her seat.

The coaches returned to the pitch.

West Ham next.

Then Richmond.

Even with a great distance between them, the anger was visible in each of the Greyhound’s posture. They stalked past Nate, their former kitman, as if they were just barely holding themselves back from jumping the man. The moment was ripe with every kind of bad energy.

Then it got worse.

The Greyhounds became feral on the pitch. They were straight up attacking the Hammers, earning themselves red card after red card.

“What the fuck?” Y/n mumbled. This wasn’t the type of ruthless she’d wanted them to be.

Dani, the human embodiment of sunshine, was practically spitting on the other players. Sam, an actual angel, got uncharacteristically aggressive. Richard downright hurled the ball at one of the Hammers. Isaac had to rip him away. Richmond had lost three players due to the display of pure rage.

Y/n glanced down at the coaches as Isaac proceeded to shove one of the Hammers to the ground. Ted had his head in his hands. Nate Shelley was looking on smugly. What the hell had happened during halftime to inspire this behavior?

Finally, the match came to an end, 4-1. Zava had managed to score one goal and West Ham had snuck in two more amidst the chaos.

“Shit,” Rebecca muttered, spotting Rupert victoriously hugging his wife while locking eyes with his ex, “Shit. Shit.”

Keeley tried to stop Rebecca from leaving, but she needed to be alone to lick her wounds. Y/n glanced over to Higgins who puffed out his cheeks with a heavy breath.

“Right,” Y/n turned to Keeley, who was trying to make cheery conversation with Jack and Barbara, “Want me to handle interviews?”

“You sure?” Keeley asked.

“You stay here,” she nodded towards Jack, who was talking to Barbara, “Make us look good. I’ll deal with the rest.”

“Yeah, probably best,” Keeley agreed, “Thank you.”

Higgins and Y/n set off downstairs to the locker room to collect the players they needed.

“Probably best not to pick any of the boys that got red carded,” Higgins suggested as they headed down the hall.

“Oh, I’m not picking any of them,” Y/n retorted with barely concealed frustration. She knocked on the door and opened it a crack, “Everybody dressed?”

When there was no reply, she opened the door and took a step in, coming face to face with the team. They were all wallowing in various degrees of shame and rage.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted said, lacking his usual enthusiasm, “Who do you need?”

Y/n scanned the faces that cheerfully greeted her each day. Some, like Colin and Sam, avoided her watchful gaze. Jamie watched her expectantly. Quite frankly, she didn’t feel like dealing with any of them.

“Zava,” Y/n turned to the star player, “Do you mind?”

“I do not,” he replied, rising and joining Y/n in the doorway. He didn’t leave until he looked back on the team once more, shaking his head like a disappointed parent. Y/n didn’t bother to hide her dismay either as she shut the door.

—————————

With Zava having done his interviews and Ted having addressed the press himself, Y/n could retire for the day, though relaxing was a ways off.

She came back to join Keeley and Jack, who were sipping champagne and chatting. Hopefully Keeley had made them look a lot better than what they’d presented.

“All good?” Keeley asked.

“As good as we can be,” Y/n answered, coming to stand beside Jack, “Whatever Keeley’s told you about how the team usually carries themselves, I’d like to second it.”

“Loud and clear,” Jack smiled.

Shandy came through the press room door, “Well, that was a shit show. Anyway, good news. Bantr’s trending.”

“It is?” Keeley asked.

“Yeah,” Shandy answered, “Pretty sure the change to the bio line helped.”

“Wait,” Y/n interrupted, exhausted by the day, “We changed the bio line?”

Keeley looked just as surprised as Shandy held up her phone. Her eyes widened as she took the mobile, before passing it to Y/n.

It read: Wanna Bang a Celebrity?

“Wha…” Y/n failed to form words.

“Who did this?” Keeley asked.

“I did,” Shandy answered proudly, “This afternoon after I uploaded the vids. You’re welcome.”

Y/n was too tired to mask her horror, she didn’t even have the strength to try. As Keeley tugged Shandy a few feet away, Y/n stayed beside Jack and lifted the corners of her mouth.

“We’re, uh, all a little off today,” she explained.

“Well, you’re hiding it very well,” Jack whispered, lightening the mood.

As soon as she saw Shandy’s face change from pride to offense, Y/n knew she couldn’t stay any longer. She was frustrated, tired and had plans for the night that needed her more.

“It was lovely to meet you,” she bade Jack farewell, “Give Gary my best.”

“You as well,” Jack smiled. The one takeaway from the day was at least KJPR’s backer wasn’t an asshole.

Y/n nodded to Keeley and avoided eye contact with Shandy as she left the press room, hastening her steps as soon as she was out of the room.

—————————

There was an unspoken understanding at the Crown and Anchor. It filled each weekend Richmond played. If they won, it would stay busy all night. If they lost, it emptied as soon as the tabs had been settled.

Suffice it to say, Y/n was sitting in near solitude.

She sat at the bar, picking at an order of chips and going through one-sheets. There were a surprising amount of apartments available in Richmond and she was overwhelmed by the options.

“All good, love?”

Y/n looked up to Mae, who was bringing her a fresh glass of water. “If you’re referring to the food, it’s great. If you’re referring to the-“

“We’re not speaking of that,” Mae interrupted, shutting the topic of the match down. Y/n had come to learn the bar owner took her Greyhound games as serious as life itself.

“I won’t fight you,” Y/n replied, going back to flipping through her papers.

“See you’re looking for a place,” Mae pointed towards the sheets, “I take it the job’s working out okay.”

Y/n snorted, “All evidence contrary to today, yes, it’s working out.”

“I told you,” Mae said with the pride of someone who knew how wise she was, “Just had to give it time.”

Y/n laughed a little, “I’ll learn to trust you eventually.”

Mae matter-of-factly nodded before leaving her patron be.

Y/n flipped through a few more papers, each property bleeding into the other till they all looked the same. She was ready to let her head drop to the counter when the papers in her hands suddenly became illuminated. She traced the light behind her, coming face to face with a blinding bulb.

“Fucking hell,” Y/n cursed, covering her eyes. She rubbed them until she could see again, Jamie’s silhouette coming into view, “What are you wearing?”

“Can’t run if I can’t see,” Jamie answered without feeling like like any further explanation was necessary.

“Why are you running at 8 o’clock?” Y/n asked in confusion.

“Three workouts a day,” Jamie replied, “Roy’s got us starting at 4AM.”

“Well, there’s light in here, so…” Y/n gestured around them.

Jamie switched off the headband’s lamp and took it off, smoothing his hair down after. He pointed to the stool beside Y/n, “You waitin’ on anyone?”

“Please,” Y/n gestured to the spot, she was too tired to fight against company.

The pub was quiet enough that the chances of Jamie being spotted didn’t require him to hide in a booth.

“I’m assuming this unholy schedule doesn’t pertain to the whole team?” Y/n asked, already suspecting Jamie’s motivation.

“Eh, no,” he answered, crossing his arms across the bar, “Just me.”

“Uh-huh,” Y/n replied just as Jamie flagged Mae down and asked for a water.

“Roy’s got me on a diet,” he explained when he caught the confusion on Y/n’s face, “Only one drink and only if we win a match.”

The five letter word had them finally meeting one another’s eyes, waiting for the other to address the benched elephant in the room.

“Right,” Y/n let the sheets in her hand fall on the counter, “What the fuck happened today?”

Jamie exhaled, rubbing a hand across his face. There was so much history behind the events of the match, he wasn’t sure where to start.

“You know that sign in the locker room?” Jamie gestured to the space above them, “Above the coach’s office?”

“The ‘Believe’ one?” Y/n replied.

“Yeah,” Jamie folded his arms again, “So…it’s a whole thing but, it means a lot. And when Nate left,” he inhaled to go over that bit of the past, but Y/n stopped him.

“I know who Nate is,” she said. His smug smile was still burned into her brain from earlier in the day.

“Right, so,” Jamie sighed, his tongue poking at his cheek in frustration, “We won last season, Nate stormed out and quit. But Roy and Beard put on this video for us during halftime of him…tearin’ up the sign.”

Y/n rested her head on her hand, listening intently.

“And…” Jamie grasped at the air, “It’s a big deal. To us. To the team. And I think we all just feel…” he paused, “Fuckin’ betrayed or somethin’. That he turned on us. But that sign…” Jamie shook his head, “Fuckin’….”

During her various trips to the locker room, Y/n had noticed the yellow and blue paper. She hadn’t thought anything of it, just another motivational decoration. She hadn’t realized that it held such a deep meaning to the team.

“So the solution was to get…” Y/n shrugged, “What was it, four red cards?”

“Hey,” Jamie pressed three fingers to his chest, “None of ‘em were me.”

Y/n chuckled, Jamie had managed to stay on the field the entire time. She suspected that might not have been the case a few years prior.

“I get it,” Y/n nodded, “Team loyalty. I mean, I think we’d all have preferred you channeled your anger a little more productively, but…”

Jamie bobbed his head, shame over how they’d dealt with their feelings had begun to set in over the last few hours. But he still couldn’t say he regretted it. Not fully.

“Well, Sky Sports is going to have a field day with you all,” Y/n sighed as she fished through her chips.

“All they’ll be talkin’ about is Zava,” Jamie made his voice more nasally when he uttered the name, “Since he’s the only one of us you wanted today.

Y/n quirked an eyebrow at him, “Well, I was slightly worried that Isaac might dropkick the camera man or Dani might bite a journalist or something.”

Jamie twisted his lips, half-smiling. He couldn’t fault her that.

“Let’s just categorize this day in the ‘suck’ column and move on,” Y/n said, slipping a one-sheet to the back of her pile.

“I’ll second that,” Jamie agreed, stretching his neck to look at the papers, “What’re you looking for a place?”

“Yeah, figured since I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” Y/n tried to organize the pile somewhat, “Might as well cut down on the commute.”

Jamie held out his hand for the paper in Y/n’s. He examined the square footage, but mostly the street name.

“Oh, this is a shit area,” he commented, reaching for the Sharpie Y/n had laying nearby.

“I don’t think there are shit areas of Richmond,” Y/n shot back, watching as Jamie made a large ‘x’ across the picture of the apartment, “Wait, what-“

“I’m saving you from overpaying for a crap flat,” Jamie capped the marker and gestured for the other sheets, “Lemme see the others.”

Y/n looked between him and the pile, confused as to what was happening.

“C’mon,” Jamie wiggled his fingers.

She slid half the stack across the bar to him, keeping the other half for herself.

Jamie began to read the details of the first listing over. “This one’s on the other side of town,” he stated.

“I don’t care about that,” Y/n replied, “So long as it’s in town. Plus, it’s got a balcony.”

Jamie held up the next paper and compared the two. “This one’s shit too,” he reached for the marker again, predicting Y/n’s reaction, “Just trust me.”

The two of them sat at the bar, scooting their stools together until the pile had been thinned out and the day had ended more pleasantly than it began.

————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sabelcities

[jesterwriting]

pairing: crocodile x gn!reader

contains: awkward!reader, passing mentions of masturbation, second hand embarrassment, mentioned sexual fantasies, crocodile thinks you’re amusing, probably kind of ooc

word count: 1.6k words

playlist: off to the races by lana del rey

Crocodile stared down his nose at you, a cigar hanging from his lips. Your throat bobbed as you followed the lit end to his face — knit brows, hard eyes, and a frown, all tell tale signs that he was in a sour mood. You cursed whoever put him in one to begin with. They could have at least waited until you were out of the crossfire. The rings that adorned the fingers of his flesh hand glinted in the low light, nearly outshining his hook. Even now, with your heart pounding and sweat dripping down your temples, you couldn’t help but admire your boss.

“Do you know why I called you in here?”

You assumed to reprimand you for your shoddy work, though you kept your guesswork to yourself. There was no need to dig yourself an even deeper hole with the most terrifying man you’ve ever met. You had barely been working under him for a few months, only ever catching glimpses of him from afar. Yesterday, you dreamed of your chance to finally talk to him. Today, you wanted to throw yourself down the closest fire escape.

You shook your head and fidgeted with your fingers behind your back. “No, sir.”

Crocodile hummed as he uncrossed his legs. His cigar bounced, a bit of ash dribbling from the end as he straightened. Your knees shook slightly. Despite sitting while you stood, Crocodile towered over you. He was made to seem even larger by the ostentatious desk and plush chair that was surely worth more than a year's worth of paychecks combined. He could break you with one hand if he wanted to. It wouldn’t take much. Maybe a twitch of his fingers, a flick of his wrist, and you’d be snapped in two. You felt nervous — and a little hot under the collar, though you tried not to focus on that part — just thinking about it.

“I see.” He exhaled smoke and you fought the urge to cough. Crocodile slowly tilted his head to the side as he eyed you, like a predator staring down its prey. “You can’t think of any reason I would call you in here?”

If this was a romance novel, you would saunter over and sit on the edge of his desk, allowing your shirt to untuck and reveal the small of your back. With a sultry smile, you would pluck the cigar from his lips and bring it to your own. Obviously, you would exhale smoothly and not hack up one of your virgin lungs. Crocodile would be impressed by your boldness and invite you to sit in his lap, where you would eventually spend the rest of the evening with his cock down your throat. Expertly swirling your tongue around the head and definitely not gagging through snot and tears.

But this wasn’t a romance novel and you weren’t the hot secretary you always dreamed of being. You were quiet, woefully inexperienced, and, most egregiously, kind of awkward.

When a bead of sweat dribbled from your forehead and off your chin, Crocodile pinched the bridge of his nose. He heaved a sigh as his gaze softened ever so slightly. It was still hard enough to cut steel, but you no longer felt like he was going to cross the room stomp on you like a bug. That wasn’t to say you would complain if he stepped on you, you would simply rather survive the ordeal.

“In comparison to your colleagues, your work has been exemplary. I’d like to offer you a promotion.”

You blinked, unsure if your ears were working correctly. While you completed every task given to you on time, it wasn’t with vigor, nor did you go ‘above and beyond.’ To be frank, you did the bare minimum. How badly were your coworkers fucking up that you were being praised like this?

Crocodile studied your reaction. “You seem surprised.”

“Well, sir, I’m no model employee.”

You watched as he took another drag off of his cigar. “I need a secretary. Will you do it?”

Frank and straight to the point, you appreciated it, if only because you felt your stomach drop to the floor. This was a dream come true. Literally. You had dreamed about being Crocodile’s secretary before, except instead of fearing for your life, you were far sexier and he was fucking you dumb. Now, with a golden opportunity laid down at your feet, all you could manage was a coarse, “Wuh?”

“Yes or no.”

With a hesitant nod, you straightened your back and met Crocodile’s eyes for the first time the entire meeting. If you weren’t mistaken, you caught a glint of amusement in them before it was promptly snuffed out. “Yes, sir.”

“You start tomorrow.”

And thus began your life as assistant and secretary to the warlord Crocodile. It was easier than you expected. While your workload doubled overnight, your work ethic tripled under the watchful gaze of your boss. When Crocodile said jump, you asked how high. When Crocodile said to run, you sprinted. When Crocodile wanted papers on his desk in an hour, you got them there within thirty minutes. All of it, just to hear a clipped ‘thank you,’ or, on the rare occasion, watch his expression soften for a split second before he dismissed you.

Nights, however, were rough. Your head was clogged with thoughts of how Crocodile’s rings would feel pressing into your windpipe, or how much his dick would split you open while he fucked you. No matter how many times you made yourself cum, you couldn’t get thoughts of your boss out of your head. It was like he crawled in your ear and set up a tent in your brain. A tent full of lit cigars and the smell of expensive cologne.

You started to work yourself to the bone. Both out of fear of what Crocodile would do if you failed him and desperation for the small nuggets of praise he would give you. Sleep was tossed to the wayside. All that mattered was setting up Crocodile’s appointments, organizing his paperwork, and trying to keep yourself somewhat sane in the awkward situation you found yourself in.

You could hardly look at him during the work day. He was too attractive and you were too embarrassing. The sexy secretary schtick from your dreams seemed farther and farther away each day that passed. Now that you were in close quarters, he caught you, more than once, tripping on your own two feet. You still cringed when you remembered how Crocodile walked in on you threatening to throw the copy machine out of the window. In response, he merely looked you up and down before he walked away, leaving you to bang your head against the wall until your embarrassment was gone. Until he caught you doing that too, and you wanted nothing more than to die on the spot.

“Boss,” You called, poking your head through the door. Crocodile spared you a glance before he beckoned you into his office. Papers in hand, you trotted in and prayed your sweaty palms didn’t dampen them. “I need your signature on these.”

Without a word, Crocodile plucked them from your fingers and set them on his desk. He leaned back in his chair, and you fought the urge to trace the tendons of his neck with your eyes. Instead, you trained your gaze on his desk.

“Y/N,” Crocodile said.

Your head spun from how fast you looked up. “Yes?”

“How do you like the new copy machine?”

“The what?”

Crocodile’s lips twitched upward. “You brought it to my attention that the old one was broken so I bought a new one.” He paused as he mulled over his next words, and, if you weren’t mistaken, it almost looked like his eyes were dancing. “Any urge to throw this one out of the window?”

You felt your face blaze. With a sharp intake of breath, you covered your face with your hands. If you were alone, you would scream into your palms. But, you weren’t. You were standing in the middle of Crocodile’s office, praying that by some miracle, you would melt into sludge and slink away to find some dark corner to rot.

Prying one hand from your cheeks, you gave your boss a thumbs up. “It’s great, thanks.”

“Is there any more broken equipment I should know about?”

Was this a test? If you complained, would he fire you? Was that why he seemed so amused at your distress? You shuffled your feet and glanced around the room for any hidden cameras. “Well, the coffee machine is pretty banged up.”

“Put in an order for a new one.” Crocodile’s eyes roamed your body, studying your reaction. You shivered under his gaze. Your blush, instead of dissipating like you wanted, only darkened as Crocodile’s frown turned into a smirk. “Come here.”

“Uh?” Words caught in your throat and refused to come out. It was almost as if you were in one of your dreams, but instead of adopting the confident persona you always wanted, you were still bumbling old you. Your hand raised of your own accord to point at yourself. Casting a glance over your shoulder to make sure Crocodile wasn’t talking to someone else, you muttered, “Me?”

He furrowed his brows and gestured for you to come closer with his index and middle finger. “Who else?”

Nervous, you shuffled over to Crocodile until you were right next to him. Using his hook, he tapped the metal under your chin. You shivered. Crocodile watched your expression for a few more moments before he rumbled, “Keep up the good work.”

With that, you were dismissed. You stumbled out of his office with a blush on your face and way too wet underwear.

Good God, how were you going to survive this?

[undercoverpan]

Say what you mean (I can't, sorry)

"Why didn't you make me tea when I was sick?"

The room they're in is quiet. Spider isn't looking at him, rather, he's staring at his cup of water as he sits down in one of the cold, metal chairs the RDA had left behind. Jake's place within the four walls is at the small counter, leaning other it with his elbows as he grips a piece of bone, whittling it into a bead. Neither face the other.

"What?" He asks, resuming with his carving. Spider glances at him from the corner of his eyes, catching the dismissive tone, and thinks of shutting his mouth. Just dropping the conversation. But with a second glance, he catches amber on the man's songchord, and thins his lips. Proof of his place within the family is reflected in that insignificant amber, the same blood that courses through his veins now. How he hated his blood; how he wonders why and how Jake could cherish it. His blood beckons him to speak, rushing to his cheeks as he opens his mouth again.

"When I was sick, you never made me tea." 

Jake regards his words in the way you might regard the core of an eaten Yovo fruit. Past its sweet flesh, what is it worth? The seeds may be cultivated by Eywa, but not necessarily the Na'vi. By Jake. But Spider wants to be valued beyond his metaphorical and literal flesh. 

"Did you want some tea?" He offers; and Spider stills. His rational mind, the one that never made any effort to shield him from the less rational parts of himself that dwelled within his heart, tells him that that is what he wants. Tea. He's asked for tea and he's being offered tea. He associates that part of his thoughts with cowardice and willful ignorance, because this isn't what he wants. 

"No, not right now. Back then, when I was a kid. You used to make the others tea; but never me. Why?" He presses, and though he shows great restraint with the emotions seeping through his teeth like blood through a white bandage, it is still as palpable and intrusive as the past comparison. Jake pauses, turns, and looks at Spider. He feels microscopic beneath his intense gaze, like an insect, like a yerik, like prey and insignificance all at once. Their relationship is one of commensalism, maybe parasitism if you push it. Spider certainly is.

"That's because you rarely got sick. Also, Norm wanted to keep you away from Na'vi foods and drink when you got sick–" he starts and Spider feels shame welling up in his throat like bile. Embarrassment. "No. Not that. Why didn't you make me tea?" He says. It's simple, a simple question. But below the surface, it's a heavy; loaded question. It's not stupid, or petty, or childish; it is a plea. A plea for understanding, a plea for please don't make me really say it.

"I never thought to make you tea. I…I thought you liked making your own tea." He offers instead an odd olive branch of sorts. Spider tightens his grip on his cup. "I always wanted someone to make me tea. It–, I like my tea, but I've never compared it to anything else. I don't know if I'm doing it right; I don't know what tea is supposed to taste like." He says, admits with some embarrassment and hesitance. Jake takes a breath; it feels like he's taking the air straight from Spider's lungs.

"Is it so bad, not knowing what tea is if you like what you make?" 

He asks. 

"Is it so bad that I want you to make me tea?" Spider counters. Jake sighs and Spider feels ridiculous. An 8 year old tugging at someone's sleeve, saying come look, I hit it right in the middle this time! I carved it myself! I wove it myself! I saw this and thought of you! I learned how to do this today! I made this for you!

"It's not that I don't want to make you tea, Spider, I promise. It's just…" he hesitates, searching for something inside himself, something more genuine than he wants to be right now. "...With the kids, and Neytiri, and the rest of the clan, I was just so busy." 

Spider feels something in him deflate, filled with some delusional hope that because he is part of 'the kids' and 'the clan' he'd get tea, but he wasn't. Never was, never will be. He bites his lip, hunching over like Jake punched him in the stomach and with the pain in his chest, he might've.

"Okay." He says, tersely. He doesn't dare meet his gaze. Doesn't want to imagine what he'd find in that golden eyed gaze.

"Spider…" He trails, reaches a big blue hand towards Spider in some kind of attempt at comfort. It's a cruel thing, reaching when you've made it clear you have no intention of holding. Featherlight touches grace him occasionally, but he wants the real thing. He wants somebody to care in the same way a father was. Anyone, anyone at all.

"It was stupid to ask," he says, standing up, "Sorry. It's stupid–, I'm stupid–,"  He rushes out of the room, water forgotten, eyes red rimmed and body stiff, trapped in rigor mortis. His body is tense, reeling from some kind of impact. He grits his teeth as he makes it to his little bedroom. He opens and closes the door behind him, a quiet click as it shuts behind him. His room, small and usually suffocating, is his sanctuary.

Sanctuary.  His uturu from the rest of the world, when it all became too much. And it's so stupid and he's so stupid because it's just tea. It's just tea, it's something he can make on his own, it's something he doesn't necessarily love; it was such a stupid and petty and desperate thing to ask. He feels like there are bugs under his skin, he wants to rip them all out. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid

He feels hot tears down his cheeks. Embarrassing.

He sinks to the floor, knees tucked beneath his chin. He heaves.

The room blurs, turning into a muddled sea of colours in his vision. His head is cold against the hard floor as sobs wrack his built frame. And yet, from the corner of his eye, he spots something. It's in a brown can, a familiar one. He reaches out his hand and touches cold metal, pulling it from beneath his bed. 

It's one of the better drinks the RDA makes. Coffee flavoured energy drink, a favourite amongst the science guys. He always thought it tasted like dung, the bitterness juxtaposed awfully with the artificial sweetness. But when it's in a chipped mug, topped with copious amounts of whipped cream and chocolate, it's good. When it's shared around a campfire with Quaritch, it's good. When it's put into a microwave and subsequently blows up said microwave, it's good. 

He ignores the warning labels and drinks it down. It's good.

_________

Spider not asking what he rlly wants <333 turning to an unhealthy imitation of what he truly desires <333 he cant ask his dad for affection or why he feels unloved, he like frfr

[ashs-random-writing]

Anthropophobia

One-shot

Ao3

—

Every human knew the tales and legends of the mighty beasts that roamed the oceans, luring sailors closer and then murdering them in a violent rage.

As it turned out, Sirens also knew about humans. The tiny creatures that showed up everywhere with their uncanny little faces, and tiny eyes, and their general unsettling nature. If only anthropophobia was less common.

Anthropophobia- the fear of humans.

—

Virgil ran through the streets, hearing guards shouting behind him. He grimaced, imagining them catching up and arresting him. He ran through a crowd and took an unplanned turn towards the docks. The guards hadn’t caught up yet

He untied a small boat that had sat unused for months; no one would miss it any more than they’d miss him.

Virgil knew it was risky to take a boat, even if there were no siren sightings nearby. But, he had to get away. He’d take brutal but instantaneous death over getting arrested and wasting away in a cell for the rest of his days.

He rowed for a while, his food piled up on the other side of the boat. He could hear nothing but bird calls and the rippling waves as he moved the oars. And then suddenly the underlying panic that was always present in his mind disappeared, leaving only the want to follow the feeling reaching out to him. What was that sound…?

He rowed closer and closer, not thinking about how strange this was, how suspicious this was. He snapped out of it only when the song stopped, when he was unnervingly close to a pair of eerily large eyes, with no whites to them. Virgil knew that just a few metres below the water was a mouth with far too many teeth.

He felt himself go pale, suddenly feeling lightheaded. He looked around him; how far had he sailed? His boat was probably small enough for the beast to hold it in its hands

He shuddered as that assumption was proved correct, and the siren raised its upper body out of the water, two cupped hands under his boat and raising him closer to its face, giving him a perfect view of their sharp teeth and the way it was grinning. One of its hands curled around the boat and started tilting it, the other hand below.

Virgil tumbled out, too panicked to even think of holding on. This instantaneous death was not being very instantaneous. The monster made a series of noises that Virgil had no hope of interpreting, as Virgil lay in their hand.

He was trembling harder than he ever thought possible, staying as still as he could. It prodded him with one finger, gentler than he thought it could but still hard enough to hurt, and he scrambled away from the hand, unfortunately meeting the fingers of the hand he was in as he bumped into them

He glanced down to the water, would it be worth it to jump down and try to swim away? He saw for a moment that his boat was dropped and overturned in the water and his food was floating around before a huge hand showed up in front of him fast enough that he flinched harder than ever before. He doubted he could outswim a giant sea creature anyway.

It was making noise, presumably speaking in the garbled language. Far too loud, he thought, as his stress headache doubled.

He hoped it wouldn’t sing again any time soon, he quite liked having control over his movements. It was trying to block him away from the edges of its palm, similarly to how one would do with a bug.

The comparison made him nauseous as he recognised that he was that small compared to it. He was maybe only three inches compared to it, all too small, and far too fragile. He stood up, though was immediately knocked off of his feet as the siren shifted slightly

He looked at its face, finding it almost too big to look at it all.

He felt himself go even paler as a second pair of eyes opened beneath its normal ones. It brought him close enough that he could feel its breath ruffling his clothes. He shuddered.

It’s other hand lifted up, starting to cover him from the sky, like the motion to trap a firefly. The hands closed around him, leaving him completely in the dark and cold.

He could immediately tell when the giant took him underwater, even without the little bits of water starting to fill up the space between the two hands. They both stayed underwater for about ten seconds of dizzying motion, and then he was somewhat-gently deposited on a large rock shelf above a pool of water that looked hundreds of feet deep.

He backed away, still trembling. The siren had pulled itself out of the water mostly, and sat on a ledge in the cave, as though it hadn’t just kidnapped him. In this lighting, he noticed that it had ‘little’ glowing green patterns decorating its skin, blending in with the dull green skin

He sat down in a corner, watching the beast intensely. It came closer after a while, using one of its giant claws to scratch something into the stone.

Were those runes? It tapped the runes once they were finished being scratched into the stone, and a clear sphere started to form around the ledge. Virgil tapped it to test if it was dangerous and found that it was similar to glass.

He didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all. It was still speaking, though muffled a bit now. It ducked under the water and swam away. Virgil looked for a way out, denying himself any tears to fall.

Nothing. Nothing at all. He hit the ‘glass’ with a fist, sitting down again. Why was he the exception to the fact that sirens usually murdered any human they saw? Why did he have to get trapped, the one thing he was trying to avoid?

He curled up in the corner. His prison was quite expansive, perhaps the size of a small house, but it was still a prison. He glared at everything in this cave, every single collected thing, every shiny thing on every ledge. One thing was screaming in his mind: that he was just another collected thing to the giant.

It came back a few minutes later, emerging from the water with speed that he could barely comprehend. Its hands were filled with plants that looked like they were from land, even though they were soaking wet. He came closer curiously, and looked at the strange handful- was that a whole bush?

His bewilderment overtook his fear for a brief moment, until it looked at him again, two pairs of eyes locked onto him.

He skittered back, heart beating so fast it might explode. What was even going on right now? He groaned, pushing his head into his hands and sliding down the rock wall to sit on the floor. It was still watching

It reached through the barrier as if it was not there, which it definitely was, and placed the bushes and soft leaves in the prison with him.

After a few days, Virgil still had no idea what was actually happening. The uncertainty was eating him alive. He had rearranged the plants in his prison, to give himself a hiding place. They were thick enough that he couldn’t see the siren through them, and therefore it couldn’t see him.

Sometimes it would sing to itself. Virgil hated those times. He didn’t even think it knew it was luring him from his hiding spot, it usually noticed him only after a while, stopping singing to speak to him (or at him- it wasn’t like he could understand)

He still couldn’t get over the fear. It was so big, so fast, so loud. He spent most of the time cowering in the corner, staring at the wall. His eyes had adjusted to the dark well

He peeked out from behind the bushes and watched the siren swim out of the cave system. It usually brought him food when it did that. He stood up shakily, once again inspecting his prison for any faults, anything he could use to escape. Once again, nothing.

His knuckles had become bruised by how much he had punched the magic glass when he got frustrated with his captivity. The siren was back soon, nothing in its hands. Suspicious. Virgil went back to his hiding spot.

Another siren was behind it, this one more red in colour. Virgil shuddered. There was a tapping on the glass, accompanied by some words that Virgil couldn’t understand. He knew that this meant it wanted him to leave his hiding spot, and that if he didn’t, it’d reach in and get him anyway.

He wasn’t coming out. Willingly showing yourself to a siren was a death sentence. He could feel the siren's hand getting closer until it wrapped around him, lifting him through the glass. He was still trembling every time it got near him.

It presented him to the red one with some dramatic gestures that made him dizzy. Its hand uncurled, leaving him sitting on its palm. The red one let out a shriek that Virgil was sure made his ears bleed, as it catapulted itself backward

Virgil covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. The hand he was sitting on was shaking, as he heard what he assumed was laughter from the green siren. His legs had drawn up to his chest, and he laid on his side as he tried to erase that noise from his mind

He could hear Red saying something, not entirely shrieking now, but not not shrieking. He wanted to leave- to go somewhere else, anywhere else.

It didn’t matter that he couldn’t go home, he could go somewhere else, and start a new life- except he couldn’t. He was trapped in the clutches of a giant siren, and there was no way he’d ever be able to escape the underwater tunnels without drowning.

Green prodded his side and Virgil curled up more.

He was placed in the prison again soon enough. The moment, the shriek, replayed in his mind over and over again as he stared into the darkness hours later

It reminded him of when a school child would find a spider in the grass and show their friends to freak them out. He had never thought about how it would feel to the spider, to be at the mercy of giants so much larger, to deal with the loud screaming and the complete lack of control. He wondered how many spiders had been traumatised by those school shenanigans.

The siren was under the waves, like it was for a lot of the day, but he could still see the glowing. He closed his eyes, but no sleep crept up on him.

He stared up. Was that what was happening? Were humans the spiders to sirens? He thought for a while

It would explain Red’s reaction maybe, and why sirens went into what seemed like murderous rage. Maybe it was just like when someone saw a spider and started panicking. He had certainly seen people go into what could be described as a murderous rage when seeing a spider.

So, why did they lure humans? He thought of his interactions with Green, how it would sing to itself and be surprised when he was drawn closer. His blood ran cold.

They didn’t know . They didn’t know their own power. The thing they were known for . He thought about all the casualties of siren song and he uttered the first word he said in days

“I’m sorry”

A single tear ran down his cheek and he looked around the cave. Of course he had to be found by the type of person who would keep a spider in a jar as a pet. Well, at least until it forgets about him. He wondered how long that would take; weeks? Months? Years? He would rather it happen sooner than later

He didn’t want to form a messed up attachment to his captor before it eventually forgot about him

He curled up behind the bush and waited for it to wake up.

—

Remus had been relaxing just above water for his daily fix of oxygen and sunlight, singing to himself as he slowly swam around.

A human floated into view a little while later. It hadn’t noticed him yet, and so he stopped singing, dipping his head further down into the water until only his eyes were above water. Well, at least his primary eyes; he didn’t need to see details just yet

It froze when it noticed him. Remus was wondering what it would feel like to be bitten by something so small. Roman said that it hurt.

He scooped the little guy up in its little boat. He wondered what it was seeing; an incomprehensible being? Was it feeling unimaginable terror? He grinned at the idea, though knew it was unlikely. Humans were too small for thoughts like that

He tilted the boat to get the human out, and it tumbled out, further than he expected. It laid unmoving for a few seconds in which Remus thought he might’ve accidentally killed it. That would’ve been disappointing, he decided, since he wanted to keep it as a pet.

He nudged it with his fingertip and watched as it scuttled back. That tickled.

It got closer to the edge and Remus dropped the boat and brought his other hand up to guard it away

“Woah there, little guy! If you fall off here you’re gonna die choking on water with no escape! I’m the better option, don’t you think?” He grinned, rambling a bit.

It stared up at him, and he opened his secondary eyes, bringing it closer. It was so small . Roman would be terrified, he realised, grinning harder.

So would most of his friends.

Remus gently placed his hand over his other one and tried to make sure no water would get in between them. He ducked underwater and swam home, placing the little guy on a ledge in the part of the cave above water and scratching some runes so it would have a place to stay.

He looked at it for a few seconds. It was empty, too empty to keep an animal in there.

The human looked up at him. He thought for a moment; what kind of plants grew where humans lived? Pretty much any plants from land would work, right? He set off to find some as the little guy explored the enclosure

He found some soft plants on an island nearby, and uprooted them to take to his new pet. It was a creepy little thing, like most humans, and immediately started moving the plants to create a little hide-away. Remus had always found humans strangely cute, in a way that made his brother extremely annoyed. Roman had never liked it when he brought humans home from his wanderings.

They were just so small, and pretty docile if they weren’t feeling threatened. Remus had heard a lot of people say that they were more scared of people than people were of them, and he had always wondered how much truth that held

He knew a lot of people who were downright terrified of the tiny little creatures. He wondered why humans always got so close to sirens if they were so afraid, but he didn’t dwell on it.

A few days later, he had begun to get very attached to the little creature. It stayed hidden a lot, only coming out when it was fed, and occasionally when he was singing or humming to himself. He named it Creepy, because it fit the description, primarily, but also because it would annoy his brother tremendously.

He suddenly remembered the fact that he hadn’t shown Creepy to his brother yet and grinned, swimming through his tunnels as fast as physically possible and towards his brother's cave.

“Roman! Roman! I need to show you my new pet! You’ll love it” he grinned, holding back a laugh

Roman sceptically followed him until they got back to the cave. Remus saw Creepy hide behind the plants and he got closer, tapping on the barrier and waiting for it to come out like usual, but it didn’t.

“Come on out, lil’ guy”

He reached in and grabbed it gently and dramatically presented it to his brother

“Ta da! My new pet!” He uncurled his hand and watched his brother’s reaction intently

The reaction was even worth the resulting scream. He laughed, bringing Creepy towards his chest and looking back up at Roman

“Remus! Why would you do that!? You know I’m scared of them!” His eyes were looking up at him and back down to the human like he was scared it was gonna leap at him

Remus looked down at Creepy, who had curled up like it did when nervous.

“Aw, look, you scared it! Say sorry,” he said, half teasingly, gently prodding Creepy’s side

“I scared it?” Roman asked, tone disbelieving “If anything, it should apologise to me! Or at the very least, you should” he crossed his arms, secondary eyes widening to show his mistrust

Remus shook his head, placing Creepy back into the enclosure and turning back to Roman as Creepy scuttled back to its hiding spot

“I mean, if you still fall for that, it’s on you. I’ve been pulling the same prank since we were kids” he shrugged and grinned

Roman glared at him, but didn’t argue

“I just don’t get how you can find that thing cute enough to be a pet,” he grumbled.

Remus shook his head, placing Creepy back in the enclosure.

“Oh, come on! How can you be scared of that little face!”

Roman stared at him. “I don’t know, they just show up everywhere and they just give me the creeps, ok?”

They talked for a while, before Roman inevitably left

Remus placed some food in the enclosure and ducked under the water to his bed. He wondered what Creepy was thinking about the situation.

He yawned, and fell asleep, head tucked into his arm.

When he woke up, the thing he did was swim outside for his daily dose of sunlight and basked in the light for about an hour, until the light got too much for him. Then he started swimming around.

The smaller fish avoided him mostly, but they were still annoying. He snuck a peek at one of the nearby islands, finding a lot of boats and a few humans.

Humans tended to be in groups of two or more, he noticed; was his human gonna get lonely? He thought about his human, pushing away the thought of how killable, how squishable, it was, and thought about its behaviour. It hid most of the time. Maybe another human would get it to be less skittish?

This routine was what he did every morning.

After yet another morning of this a few weeks later, he swam back to the cave and greeted his little friend by tapping on the wall of the enclosure. It walked forward towards him and sat down in front of the barrier. Remus’ tail splashed happily and Creepy skittered back, staring at the tail. Oh, right, humans didn’t really like water

He wondered how many humans had drowned in his lifetime, and what it would feel like to drown. He couldn’t imagine it. He had found several dead humans in sunken ships (Roman refused to go near them) and he had always wondered how long it had taken them to die.

He looked at Creepy consideringly. What would happen if he threw it into the water? He shook his head, and ruffled Creepy’s hair. He wouldn’t hurt Creepy.

He started singing to distract himself from his thoughts. Oddly enough, Creepy became more alert, staring up at him with more intensity, getting closer to the barrier.

Remus tilted his head. He had noticed that his singing would sometimes make Creepy come closer, but to see the immediate shift in the behaviour was interesting. He stopped singing and watched it back away a bit

He started singing again and it once again got closer, standing up straighter and trying to get to him.

This was so cool! He grinned. He wondered if it would work on other humans than Creepy. He experimented with the singing for a while, a few hours maybe, before deciding to stop the game and do something else.

Creepy ran back to its hiding spot after they were done playing, and Remus watched it arrange the plants again to completely surround itself. Remus imagined what would happen if it would respond to his singing while it was surrounded like this. It would probably catch its skin on one of the pointier branches and die a bleeding, painful death. It was a good thing he stopped, he decided

Humans were always so fascinating to him, how complexly they acted, but he was the only person he knew who had ever noticed that. Everyone else was too scared to even look at a human without screaming or trying to get rid of it.

But, Remus had always loved watching them.

A few days later, he swam out of the cave and up to the surface. He could see one human sitting on the shore of a nearby island. It froze when it saw him, and he tested his newfound ability.

Much like Creepy, it immediately changed in posture and ventured towards the water. Cool! It would even make humans go towards the water without a boat? He knew how dangerous that was, so when it got to the water he grabbed it and stopped singing.

He swam towards his cave, holding the human above water until they got close enough, then he ducked under water and swam as fast as possible through the tunnels and deposited his new human in the enclosure with Creepy.

The humans stared at each other and Remus had a sudden thought of them ripping each other apart, before they started making noises. He had heard Creepy make noise every so often, but very rarely and very quietly. He grinned.

The new human was smaller, so he named it Tiny. He watched them for hours, though they paid almost no mind to him. He wondered how it felt to be so small

—

Virgil hadn’t grown used to life in the cave. It had been weeks, and it had only gotten worse from then. The red one had visited semi-frequently, though practically did everything to avoid looking at him. Virgil was glad; he didn’t want to deal with even more screaming.

It still did what he called a mini-shriek if it caught sight of Virgil moving around too suddenly, or even at all. Virgil had never been able to shake the sound of the first shriek from his mind.

He shuddered. Red hadn’t come back since Green had discovered that it could draw him forward by singing. It would toy with him for hours at a time, grinning as it forced him forward, let him try to go back and bringing him forward again, until it eventually got bored.

Virgil hunched in the corner, and watched the siren swim away. He grit his teeth and started looking around the cave again. He couldn’t cry. If he admitted the hopelessness of the situation, it would only make it worse to bear.

He took a shaky breath and held his head against his knees. He was going to get away, somehow, somewhere. He was going to get out of this- he was going to get away.

The siren returned a while later, another human in its hands. They were placed behind the glass like him, and sat there seemingly in shock for a few moments. They looked around, squinting at the dark and adjusting their glasses.

“It takes a while for your eyes to adjust, you won’t see much yet,” he offered to the stranger, who seemed startled. Their eyes locked on Virgil after a few seconds of trying to find the source of his voice

“Where are we? Why did it bring me here?” The stranger had an accent to their words, one that Virgil recognised from further south on his home island

“Well, we are inside magical glass in a stupidly large cave for reasons that I only have a theory of” he offered, probably sounding bitter

“Hmm… would you mind telling me your theory? I’m working with almost no reference here” they came closer, and Virgil moved aside some plants for them to get closer to him

“You know how people are usually scared of spiders but there’s always that one person who keeps spiders in jars? Well this,” he gestured around him “is the jar”

The stranger looked at him with a contemplative look

“That implies that most sirens are scared of us,” They said after a few moments, looking at the siren, which was just there, staring at them both

“I think they are,” Virgil replied, thinking of the red siren and the unholy screech it let out at the mere sight of him.

“Think about it, how many people completely freak out when they see a spider and don’t calm down until it’s dead? That’s what sirens do!” He elaborated

“Do you have any definitive proof that they’re scared?”

Virgil once again thought about the scream.

“Just wait for the red siren to visit,” he didn’t offer any more elaboration for that statement.

They talked for hours, deliberately ignoring the giant face that was staring down at them.

The new guy was Logan, an aspiring scholar. Virgil didn’t mention his own line of work.

Virgil told him how most days were in the cave, and answered questions about the siren song situation. Logan seemed to absorb knowledge like a sponge.

The next few days were not as bad as they were alone. The green one had added more plants to the prison, and so there were more hiding spots. Logan had been subjected to the utter torture that was Green singing, stopping and singing again, which was less good, but Logan had yet to be subjected to the shrieking of Red.

Virgil had made sure to keep an eye out so Logan knew to cover his ears when the red one showed up.

Green was out of the cave at that moment, so Logan and Virgil had a precious moment to talk in peace. They weren’t talking about anything in particular, but Virgil still cherished it. He had never thought he’d miss human interaction this much.

Virgil didn’t talk much, instead he listened to Logan speak, and kept a look out for the siren returning. It was about an hour later that the green siren arrived, and Logan and Virgil went back into their hiding place.

It placed some food in their prison and started placing things on different ledges in the cave. It almost reminded him of when he would find something cool when he was on a walk and put it up in his room. He knew the comparison was pretty accurate, but he didn’t want to think about how the siren was a person.

A person who was keeping them captive for entertainment. It was easier to think of it as a monster or a beast than to recognise that it was just as sapient as him. He watched it, trying to ignore any familiar actions.

It swam towards them a few minutes later, Virgil was mostly hidden, and so was Logan, but they were peeking over the bushes to watch the siren.

It didn’t seem to notice them both, looking through the glass at different hiding spots. It gave up trying to find them and instead tapped on the glass to try get them out. It always was annoying if they didn’t eat their food immediately. He glanced at the tapping fingers with an emotion he couldn’t identify.

If it really wanted them to come out, maybe it should’ve stopped being annoying. He ducked down further and crossed his arms.

Logan looked at him with an unreadable look

“Are you okay, Virgil?” He asked, voice barely above a whisper

Virgil stayed completely still and silent. He was sick of this whole thing.

He wanted to get out. The tapping was getting quicker, louder, matching Virgil’s breath. He drew his knees up to his chest and gripped his hair in his hands. His breathing was getting worse the more he could hear the siren's insistent tapping.

Soon he could hear nothing but his own breathing, his heartbeat, and the blood rushing in his ears. Everything else was gone. He could feel movement next to him and he tried to ground himself.

It took a while for him to come to his senses, to stop hyperventilating, but when he did, he noticed Logan in front of him, holding his hands and gently talking him into calmness. Virgil smiled falteringly

“Thanks, and, uh, sorry… about that,” he mumbled lamely

Logan looked at him. Virgil felt like there was something he wasn’t telling him.

Virgil tried to peek out from behind the bushes, but Logan pulled him down

“Keep your eyes on me,” he instructed, which made Virgil only want to look out more. He had never been good at following advice from people.

“Virgil. Do not look out there. It will only send you into another panic. You’ve already hyperventilated enough that your lips are going blue, you don’t need more”

Logan’s voice was firm, but it was calming. Virgil nodded, realising that his lips did indeed feel weird. Then he realised just how lightheaded he felt. He looked at the food that was just in his line of sight. Logan followed his gaze, and looked back at him.

“I’ll get us some food, you stay here,”

Virgil resisted the urge to look out at the rest of the cave, and instead focused on Logan.

He rested his head on the stone wall behind him. This whole thing was so… fucked up. Everything was so fucked up.

He was going to live and die in a glass prison because giant monsters saw him as nothing more than a bug, or animal. He finally felt himself cry. Logan brought the food closer and Virgil noticed for a second that he glared at the siren (or sirens? He was sure he could hear more voices)

Logan didn’t ask about his crying, just wordlessly passing food. He was going to ask Logan what exactly happened whilst he was out of sorts, but later. Right now, talking didn’t seem like a viable option. He could hear splashing, muffled through the glass

He closed his eyes. He could think when he woke up, he was too tired to mope anymore.

When he woke up, Logan was behind a different bush than him, glasses askew as his face pressed against the ground. Virgil shakily stood up and looked out at the cave. He froze under the gaze of the green siren, and felt like nothing more than a deer in headlights.

His heartbeat had gone through the roof, and he felt the instinctual urge to hide, but his body did the opposite and he just stood there.

Green came closer, Virgil flinched back and his body was startled back into motion. He ran behind another bush, noticing Logan wake up. Virgil didn’t know what exactly had triggered his fear this time; he hadn’t been this scared in weeks .

Everything was amplified to him. He didn’t know anything, he had never felt more like an animal than that instance, hiding and relying on instinct. Logan approached him a little while later.

He just looked up, feeling more helpless than he had ever felt. How long had it been since he had seen the sun? How long had he been in this prison? How long would he stay there? The rest of his life? Would Logan stay there the rest of his life? He wanted to leave, he couldn’t take this anymore.

He would rather drown trying to escape than stay here. Nothing was worse than staying here. Well, staying here alone was worse, but at least now he had Logan to help him through it. Logan had sat down next to him and was whispering reassurance

Virgil could still see too-large movements outside the glass. He shuddered. He had bruises from where Green had grabbed, prodded and poked at him. He was never going to get out of this if something so big that it couldn’t even touch him gently was the thing trapping him.

He felt like he was getting worse. He felt like everything was getting worse. But most of all, he felt bad for Logan, who had yet to suffer the worst of the captivity

—

Remus was worried about his humans. Tiny was less skittish than Creepy, but it still hid often. They usually stayed close to each other, something he had noticed in wild humans as well. Humans liked being near other humans.

Remus wondered why Creepy was on its own to begin with, but he could never think of a reason. He came back from his daily swim and put some cool rocks around his cave, fins shaking out in happiness, before checking on the two little guys.

He had already put food in there for them.

They were obviously hiding, since he couldn’t see them, but he didn’t know where they were hiding. There were a lot of hiding places in their enclosure, to make them more comfortable and try to simulate a more natural environment for them, but that meant the times he saw them now were few and far between. He tapped the barrier, waiting for them to come out, but they didn’t.

That was weird. He tapped again, louder and faster, but there was no movement visible. Were they ok?

“Come on, little guys, come on out” he said quietly, but nothing moved. Wait- did something just move? He grinned. The little humans were still living, at least

He noticed that they still weren’t coming out. What if something was really wrong with them, and that was why they weren’t coming to the front of the enclosure? He mentally debated what he should do, and landed on singing to draw them closer.

It only drew Tiny closer, but Creepy still was hidden. Once he stopped singing, it all but ran to where it was before. If Remus really strained his eyes, he could notice a shape behind the foliage. So that was where Creepy was? Was it ok?

He swam in circles, accidentally splashing the barrier a few times. He muttered to himself with a sort of fear- what if he had accidentally neglected his pets and one of them died? His voice was probably echoing and his marks were likely glowing brighter than usual.

Remus was talking to himself now, voice getting more echoing, and marks getting brighter. He watched Tiny move across the enclosure, towards the pile of food, and start dragging it back to where Creepy was

Remus was still muttering to himself, still echoing loudly as he watched the enclosure. It was hours later that Creepy emerged from the hiding spot. Remus stared intently, noticing the way it froze under his gaze. He watched it skitter away again.

He frowned. It was back to how skittish it used to be. It had been getting better, what happened? He placed his hand on the barrier and brought his face closer, trying to spot Creepy in the mass of plants

He didn’t know what to do about the sudden behaviour change. Maybe his singing had had a negative impact on it after all?

He swam out of the cave and towards his brother’s cave. His brother, annoying as he was, was still someone he trusted with his feelings. Sometimes.

Remus could only think of every bad possibility, every gruesome thing that could happen to his pets, but Roman was often an optimist.

He burst into the cave, accidentally waking Roman up

“Woah! Remus, what the- are you okay?” Roman’s anger seemed to dissolve as he noticed Remus’s distress

Remus explained the weird behaviour to him, and watched Roman nod along with the face he made when he was thinking

“Look, I’m not gonna claim to know anything about humans, they give me the creeps, but I really don’t think that it’s anything to worry about. It’s probably just confused why you added a new human to the enclosure”

Remus nodded. He always wondered what was going on in the humans’ minds, but he knew that he would never find out exactly what they thought. Roman was probably right. Would it help if he separated them?

He brushed that thought away; changing things now would confuse it more. He breached the surface to clear his head, only to be faced with a boat full of humans. It was one of the bigger ships, the ones bigger than his head, absolutely filled with the tiny creatures.

He grinned, gently knocking into the side, careful not to make any of them fall. One of them threw something sharp at him. He knew that that’s what humans did if they were hunting, but that made Remus laugh

Was it trying to hunt him for food? He was bigger than the whole ship! He pulled the tiny object out of his face and got closer, watching the tiny little creatures run around.

He loved observing wild humans, they were so fascinating to him. He wondered why they were so close to each other, in a big crowd as he got closer. His grin grew as he looked each human up and down. They were all so different from each other.

He scooped up a few into his hand to get a better look, and felt them moving around. He laughed softly at the feeling. One of them attempted to jump off of his hand and back onto the boat, and he attempted to catch it.

He looked at the tiny body in his hand. Oops. He didn’t mean to catch it so hard, but their tiny little bodies were so fragile.

He dropped it into the water and put the others back onto the boat. They were all making a lot of noise, strangely.

He swam away, wiping the red blood off of his hand and onto a rock. He didn’t mean to do that. He swam back to his cave and checked on his humans again.

He could see them this time, though they weren’t looking at him. Creepy stayed close to Tiny, much like the humans on the boat, and he couldn’t help but compare them to the one he accidentally killed. He looked at them consideringly

What would be the least painful way to die if you were human sized? Probably not drowning, that looked like it took a while. Maybe getting squashed, that seemed pretty instantaneous, but then he thought about how it might feel to have your organs splattered across a rock. He shook his head of those thoughts and just watched them.

Nothing was really happening. He couldn’t explain the strange foreboding feeling in his mind.

Things went back to normal after a few more days. Roman came by to visit him, though once again dramatically avoided the enclosure like his life depended on it.

Remus rolled his eyes as Roman shrieked upon seeing Tiny move across the enclosure to get food.

“It’s not going to hurt you, drama queen. It’s just trying to eat,”

“Ugh! Stop teasing me, you-” he was cut off by Remus shoving him with a grin plastered across his face

“Oh, yeah, the tiny little creature is gonna get you, you should be worried that it’s gonna get past the barrier, somehow swim towards you and, I don’t know, gently bite your hand?” He teased, mock biting Roman’s hand as he tried to shove him in return.

“Stop it, Remus! I can’t help how scared I am,” Roman pouted

“But you can help screaming my ears off every time one of them moves!” He countered, grin growing

He and Roman had a mock-argument for about half an hour, one that only got partially violent, but immediately ended when Roman had to go. Just like normal.

He dramatically swam down to the bottom of his cave and lay in the darkness for a while. How well could humans see in the dark, he wondered. Probably pretty well, since they’d been fine in the cave so far.

His eyes drifted shut as he thought and he slept

—

Logan hated this. Well, mostly. The good part was that this presented a very unique opportunity to study sirens. Usually, sirens killed anyone who interacted with them, so not much was known about them. Now Logan had the upper hand, second only to Virgil, who had been there longer

He felt bad for Virgil. Virgil had evidently gone through something during his time in the cave, perhaps even just the effects of long-term stress, but Virgil could barely stop trembling even when they were both hidden

Virgil had some interesting hypotheses about why they were being kept, and Logan had to admit that the theories held up well as Logan observed the siren.

Concerningly, Virgil mentioned a second siren when bringing up the idea of sirens being scared. Even more concerning, Virgil turned pale at the mere mention of the red siren, which did not give Logan a lot to work with in terms of what he was actually dealing with.

Virgil constantly looked like he had never slept, which was incredibly impressive considering how much time he spent asleep. Logan thought it must’ve been the effects of stress.

When the Red siren finally showed up, Logan was sharply pulled behind a bush

“I advise you to keep your ears covered and try not to move” Virgil warned him, which intrigued Logan very much.

“I’m just going to get some food, I’ll be quick” he promised, watching Virgil curl up more and press down on his ears.

Logan went to get food, looking at Red intently. It spotted him after a few seconds of movement, both sets of eyes widening before it started shrieking. Logan flinched. So that was why Virgil told him to cover his ears.

Green and Red seemed to start arguing, shoving each other and even biting once or twice.

Logan watched with strange fascination as the sirens fought, and then as the fight immediately stopped as the red siren left. Logan’s ears hurt from the scream, but his brain hurt from the strange behaviour of the giants

He went back to his and Virgil’s designated talking bush and sat down

Virgil was silent for a few moments, while Logan looked out at the dimly lit cave.

“I think they’re siblings,” Virgil offered, strangely tonelessly. Logan didn’t have to ask to know who he was talking about

Logan thought for a while. The thought made him feel oddly nauseous, the idea that his captor had a family. He hadn’t thought about the siren's personal life before.

If Red visited more often, though, he might be able to translate a few words. He was pretty sure that Red had said ‘stop’ several times during the argument, and that would be an invaluable word to know when in this situation. He was somewhat sure that Green was not keeping them out of malice, that being backed up by his and Virgil’s observations of the situation, so he hoped that once he had the words, it would let them go

He shared his thoughts with Virgil, who did agree with the idea, but was worried it might take too long to get every word they needed correct. Logan wondered whether it was worth it, but decided on yes as he looked at just how tired Virgil seemed

It took at least a month and a half (he was pretty sure, anyway; it was hard to tell in the cave) for him to learn how to speak one word. He practised every time that Green was out of the cave. He could understand more than he could speak.

He was going to keep practising, but his vocal cords were not made for their language.

Virgil had bitten the siren a few times, which did reduce the grabbing frequency. Green had never grabbed him as much as he grabbed Virgil. He assumed that it was due to Virgil’s larger stature, and him therefore being less fragile than Logan’s smaller form.

He hummed, trying the word in his mouth again as Green left the cave

Virgil hadn’t been trying to speak, deciding that trying to speak to the giant was not his ‘style’, so to speak. Logan was pretty sure that just meant he was scared, but he didn’t say anything about that hypothesis.

It was a week later that he actually put his practice to the test, as the siren reached through the ‘glass’ to try to bring Virgil out. The panicked and pleading look from his friend was enough to convince him.

He looked into the eyes of the siren as best he could, took a deep breath and spoke

“Stop,” he said in the strange language, before gesturing to the siren’s hand, still looking to grab at Virgil

“Stop,” he repeated

Green’s eyes were all on him as he stood, trying his hardest not to look scared.

It widened its eyes, and those sharp teeth were on display as it started to speak

“What?” It asked, and Logan repeated himself once again, crossing his arms.

—

Tag list: @a-chilly-pepper

[blueluneacy]

its time for my yearly post, real

ive been thinkin about dottore genshin impact lately. hes so silly :) did more of a horror aspect bc i like horror??? idk if youve been around long enough youll notice my slow descent into more horror based writings. but its ok, i like it!

on one hand you might be able to consider this yandere. on the other i think this is just how il dottore is in my mind. just a little creep. i wonder if hes single

tw: manipulation, blackmail, implied human experimentation

You were nothing to him. 

In some way or another, you knew that. You knew that you were lowly in comparison to him. You were a student, barely half way into a thesis while he was well… It’s hard to define what he was. An outcast, but a genius. Something out of your grasp, intangible and arcane. Maybe that’s what originally got you interested. You’re a student after all, driven by curiosity and a need for knowledge. Perhaps he liked that about you too. 

It was also that which was forbidden that intrigued you. That which you had seen scholars go mad for, he held in the palm of his hand. Things that you knew that were forbidden were always so delicious, weren’t they? You indulged in them, in what he could give you. It’s not as thought you didn’t give what you could in return, but really, what could you give a man whose power rivaled the gods? You should’ve known better. Your tutors, your peers, everyone could’ve warned you, did warn you, but you chose not to listen. 

After all, he did tell you that this version of himself was the most selfish. 

Perhaps then it wasn’t strange that you never saw what happened next coming. When he told you that it was time to leave Sumeru, you were shocked, almost baffled at the proposal. 

“I can’t just leave everything. I’m still working on my thesis, my friends are here, I still have things to do here.” You told him, as if your words would do you any good. He merely smiled at you, shaking his head as if your points were silly, meaningless. 

“I think you’ll find your research coming to a halt very soon regardless of if you leave or not. It seems that some restructuring will begin to take place here very shortly. It would be best if you were to leave, while you still had your dignity intact.” He always made himself sound so… Reasonable. It was something you once admired about him, but now, it was grating on your nerves. How easily he tossed aside your concerns. Had he always done that, trivialized the words you were saying like this?

“I can’t just give it all up. I’d hate myself if I did that. You should already know, that’s not the type of person I am. This is my life’s work.” You told him, immediately turning your back to him. He only gave you a small chuckle, shaking his head. 

“Oh please. It was an average thesis that’s frankly, derivative and uninteresting. Not to mention your advisor is about to lose his job. You don’t really think it’s worth it just to work 10 more years on something new once the dust settles, do you?” He made broad steps to close the distance between the two of you, leaning over your shoulder. You had always known that the man was much larger than you, but it was the first time you noticed that it made you nervous. Perhaps that was the first time you acknowledged him for what he really was. Not as a friend or a lover, but as the Doctor, a powerful, dangerous man. 

“Even so, I’m a student here at the Akademiya. I can’t pick up and leave just because you told me to. The answer is no.” You had to firm with him. If you weren’t, if you just went with him, you had a feeling that you would end up as nothing but a puppet, a pretty doll to look at for the rest of your life. What a shame that you hadn’t realized such a fact before it was too late. 

“Is that so?” He seemed more amused than he was angry. You winced as he leaned against you from behind, draping his arms over your shoulder in a way that he perhaps meant to be affectionate but felt more imprisoning with his inhuman strength. He leaned down to whisper in your ear. You shuddered as you felt his breath against you , a pit of fear forming in your stomach that threatened to come out as a scream. 

“And what are your plans as to what happens next? I’m sure that everyone would love to know how interested you’ve been with the things I’ve taught you these past few months. How interested you’ve been in that which you knew to be forbidden.” You froze at his words. Was… That his plan all along? To lure you in, and then blackmail you into never leaving? “Do you really think you could just get away with a slap on the wrist for this? Something as horrid as this, well, I doubt there would be must hesitation to sign your expulsion papers.”

“You… Why? Why are you doing this? Why me?” You could’ve help but let your questions tumble out of your mouth. You felt betrayed, but why? Shouldn’t you have always known the nature of this man? How he takes and takes, giving nothing in return. How absolutely foolish.

“Ah, look at that expression! How fascinating. I wonder, what else could I do to induce these emotions in you? Such lovely features being distorted with such despair…”  He cooed, running his hand over your cheek to wipe away a tear. When did you start crying? You reached up to feel your own tears, attempting to brush the Doctor’s hand away at the same time. 

“We’ll have plenty of time to look at more of your reactions once we reach home. I look forward to our continued work together once we reach Snezhnaya.” As his words reached your ears, you finally broke out of your fog, pulling away from the Doctor. You backed up a bit, but he so easily seemed to just step forward once more, not giving you any space. 

“I don’t care. Even if I become an outcast, I’ll bare with it. I… I can *redeem* myself, I won’t just let you take me away to some lab in a bunker somewhere to do who knows what to me!” You shuddered as thoughts raced through your mind of what might happen. Of how he might cut you open, the fluids he could pour into your body, the *agony* he could cause for you only to stitch you back together. You knew of the consequences though. Why are you so surprised when the chickens come home to roost?

For his part, the Doctor only laughed, leaning down and grabbing you by the chin. His grip was hard, and in the back of your mind you wondered if bruises would form later. He forced you to look up at him, examining your expression with a sort of cold clinical air that you should’ve been used to with him by now. 

“Oh, my dear… You act as though you ever really had a choice.” 

Despite your best attempts, the dam finally broke, and you let out a scream as the horror of the man in front of you finally set in. You thrashed, squirmed, cried, begged, pleaded, did anything you could think of to try and escape this, this agonizing situation that you only had yourself to blame for. 

And for his part, all the Doctor did was laugh. 

[highdio]

I got an ask about the model boat that DIO's building as he and Pucci hang out and talk about the stand ‘Survivor’ in Part 6. The scene deserves its own post because it's the basis for one of my least-favorite wrong takes: that Dio is re-living a trauma by re-creating a "shipwreck" scene. Also no dw anon I don't think you implied this. This take's been repeated so often and without reflection that it's wound up being treated as something canon, check out this TV tropes entry to see how reflexively it gets parroted:

Dio's building a model ship in the middle of a wreck??? Fanon takes can take on a life of their own and, in Dio's case, so many people know his character through the caricature constructed around and outside of the canon instead of through how Araki actually wrote and drew him. So I'm going to break down the actual Part 6 scene to examine how we wound up so far from the truth of what's actually going on in it.

1. The first thing we need to get clear is whether Dio's model even resembles the ship he killed Jonathan on in Part 1, and the short answer is no, it doesn't. For reference here's the model:

and here's the ship from Part 1:

Both are hybrid sail/steam (implied on the model by the paddle wheels even though there's no smokestacks) but the ill-fated ocean liner that took Jonathan and Erina 1/2 way across the Atlantic is a lot bigger and grander. The OVA adaptation's helpful because it’s spot-on faithful to the manga:

It's gigantic, you can see three full decks and two large smokestacks, along with elaborate baroque-looking detailing all over the stern end. Dio's model ship looks entirely different. It's simple by comparison and, were it scaled up to full size, it'd still be a lot smaller (check out the model rowboats and their oars around it for size reference).

So it's not clear that the model Dio's building is even a callback to Part 1 or some sort of easter egg on Araki's part (after looking at the two ships side-by-side my gut tells me it’s not). Keep that in mind as we step through how much the scene's gotten mangled in fanon.

Like I said, the model-building panels form the basis for an oft-repeated bad take you see a lot online, where people say it's a "shipwreck" scene (I guess because there's rowboats around it?) and, therefore, a re-enactment of trauma. Ofc that's bogus. The ship's fine, and rowboats are how crew come ashore whenever a tall ship drops anchor. There's even a lighthouse and the ship is resting in a tranquil harbor. The anime version of the scene shows these details clearly:

Hopefully it's easy to see the scene for what it is: Dio engaged in the most mundane hobby you can think of, while having a leisurely conversation with his BFF. As Pucci explains it, they're talking like children ranking their favorite action heroes by how strong they are. It's a very chill little scene, remarkable for how unremarkable it would be if this wasn't DIO and Pucci.

It's worth including the official digital color version here too because, apparently, they forgot DIO was a vampire and gave the scene a cheery sunlit mood by making the sky outside the windows as blue as day:

It's a mistake ofc but it also underscores the relaxed feel to the scene: out of context, the day-lit color choice feels natural because the scene's got such a comfy vibe.

So how do we get from a chill guy chilling (canon) to a guy re-living a trauma (fanon)? Answer is, ofc, projection.

It's a fandom thing to need a villain's evilness to be justified - explained (excused?) in a way - through past trauma, say, or a series of unavoidable circumstances (or maybe some valid ideology they hold). A villain's villainy is only legitimized, validated, or complex enough *if* they've earned it by having a "good enough" reason to act bad. In Dio's case, where 'bad' is a wild understatement, some fans simply need him to be hurt, traumatized, or otherwise sufficiently suffering in ways that Araki just never intended. And this need is so strong it can override what's in front of their own eyes, even where the author and the text suggest the exact opposite.

In this way the Survivor scene acts as a Rorschach test where some people see the traces of trauma where there are none - in fact, it's the one scene where DIO seems most at ease, relaxed and unguarded (and ofc without his "shadow"). As such the scene and its misreading encompasses a lot of that's wrong about how fanon can sometimes view Dio and a lot of what's right about how Araki wrote him.

_____________________________________________________

Thanks to the anime there's an additional coda to all this. The Survivor scene in the Stone Ocean anime is faithful to the manga, but there's a twist: DavidPro gives us a sort of 'easter egg in reverse.' Remember the grand multi-deck ship Jonathan and Erina left for their honeymoon on? Here's the anime version, from all the way back in Season 1:

It looks a lot like Dio's model.

So here we have something from the manga that's likely not originally a callback getting turned into part of a callback, but in reverse order since the callback gets shown four seasons prior.

Of course, none of that negates the fact that the Stone Ocean anime scene is remains one of safety and comfort. The model ship isn't wrecked and DIO and Pucci are at their most relaxed and conversational. The scene hasn't been reshaped into any indice of trauma. What you have then is a fun little callback for the observant, and with it a wicked re-contextualization of this panel:

Now it’s become Dio towering over a model of the ship he killed everyone on. And somehow this feels appropriate: Dio's got a gift for casually being a jackass when referring back to some of the worst things that he's done. Aside from the obvious comparing human lives to slices of bread, a good example is this panel where he refers to Zeppeli's horrific death in the most deliberately offhand way:

So, anime Dio leisurely building a model resembling the ship he accidently destroyed while killing and then desecrating the body of the only man to ever defeat him? It feels right in character: a subtle nod to one of the many calamities he's caused. Assuming the viewer's more Joestar-sympathetic than me, I feel like what Dio's doing here and, on a meta level, what DavidPro either intentionally or unintentionally is doing is having some fun at the viewer's expense.

[puppyguppy]

It's nice.

It's nice. One of your favorite kinds of nights.

You're sitting next your partner, their presence warm and familiar. Comfortable in that way that obviously oozes the bond of a family, of a future, despite the lack of rings. You don't need some small circles of metal, though. Everyone that needs to know already knows.

'Til Death came easy for you two.

Came naturally.

A slow but steady burn, even though you might never actually say those words. Or any others associated with them, like I do.

It's perfectly fine like that.

And you know your partner feels just the same, because it's been communicated, constantly. Friends and family ask how you make it work; how your romance can seem so strong yet so effortless. It always makes you laugh, because all it is is effort. But it's worth it.

For nights like this.

Your partner grinning and laughing into their drink, glass held with one hand since the other rests in your lap, over your thigh. It's warm, it's weighty, it's love. And across the table from you sits Shouta, who you'd managed to coax out with the promise of paid-for espresso martinis. He looks barely awake, barely amused; fingers fiddling with the neck of his martini glass as he listens to your partner.

All the while his boot rubs gently up and down your leg underneath the table.

It's nice.

One of your favorite kinds of nights.

Because you're selfish.

But you're also dedicated. Determined to make this work. Its just some of that effort everyone doubts exists in your relationship. But, what you have with your partner is a simmer. Something that only gets better with time. Thicker, tastier, once all the ingredients are marinated long enough. What you have with your partner is on the way to perfection.

But Shouta --

He's one of the ingredients.

A secret ingredient.

He's salt and pepper. He's smoked, sundried, charred. He's a little sweet, a little dark, like throwing chili in with cocoa powder. He's the sticky part on the side of the saucepan when it needs to be stirred; almost a burn in comparison to a broil. He's necessary.

Without him, your relationship would fall apart.

You get sick of eating the same thing over and over again. Eventually, it gets bland. Not that it's your partner's fault -- the ebbing flavor. That's why you haven't left them. They don't deserve that; not when you've got yourself a gorgeous little seasoning packet in your pocket.

There's an amicable lull in the conversation.

Your partner squeezes your thigh, so you smile at them. Tilt your head a little and tap their hand with your own. In that same moment, the toe of Shouta's boot tucks into the crook behind your knee, and the pressure threatens to pull you closer. It's just a tease, though --

"So," he starts, voice a just loud enough drawl over the volume of the restaurant. He lifts his drink up to his mouth and takes a sip, then takes a moment more to lick his lips. When he continues, it's like he's talking to the glass

"Still haven't figured it out, have you?"

Your blood runs cold in a blink. Like ice dumped into a hot pot, you feel your soul sucked out like grease. You force yourself to remain calm, though. There's no reason to jump to conclusions. No reason for him to suddenly spill the beans and cause a scene --

"Figured what out?" Your partner asks, still laughing, still smiling, curious and oblivious.

Shouta leans back into his seat and spreads out. Lounges. Like he owns the place, and the people in it. And maybe he does, maybe he does -- he smirks and raises his glass, not as a toast, but as punctuation to a point. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you wonder if your partner can feel your pulse through your thigh, fingers so close to your femoral artery.

"That the 'y' in 'yours' is silent."

[mediocre-daydreams]

HI 🫶🏻🫶🏻 it’s the mind reader anon !! can i please request for “I’m not as good as you think I am.” X “Maybe, but you’re everything to me.” OR “nobody needs me,” x “i need you.” with bucky barnes?

YEAH SURE USING AN EMOJI DIDNT COME TO MIND BUT im gonna use this from now on 🐙

��� 🐙

I HAD 3 CUPS OF STRAIGHT BLACK COFFEE AND WROTE THE WEIRDEST THING I'VE EVER... EVERED. HERE IT IS!! I'M SO SCARED OF MY OWN BRAIN RIGHT NOW!! I LOVE YOU!!

the eggs benedict to your mass production

college! himbo!bucky x tutor! cynical!reader (and both of them are stupid) notes: absolute crack, it's all just infatuated bucky going from himbo to educated, emotionally mature feminist king like every other word, mutual pining, swearing, a shit ton of dialogue but it's good fucking dialogue, dramatic bucky, you're stupid, he's kind of stupid but like no, just read it and find out i swear it's worth it

w/c: 2k .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. “you’re really good at this, you know,” bucky whispered, his peppermint breath caressing your face. he was tucked into your side, one elbow on the table, one arm around your chair—sure, maybe it was a bit too close to be professional, but neither of you was complaining.

“thanks,” you murmured, not bothering to glance up and meet his eye, partially because you were concentrated on the work in front of you, and partially because you knew you’d get flustered and expose your big, fat crush on the boy who’d, for some reason, was taken by you.

well, not “taken,” exactly. he wasn’t yours, and you weren’t his, though both of you wished that could be true; both of you also did not realize your feelings were reciprocated. in more specific terms, he was taken, as in ‘awed by,’ your determination.

whether that be your raised hand, steady and confident in class, or the quick wit that you weren’t afraid to weaponize against anybody who dared challenge you, or even the determination you’d initially had to avoid him.

bucky knew he wasn’t exactly in your league, so to speak. your social circles might as well be different planets, but he figured you were an actual planet and he was your moon, circling around you, forever and ever trapped in your gravitational orbit. (at least, that’s the comparison he would make if he was passing physics.)

and that’s how you’d met him. you had lingered after class was dismissed to finish writing down the last of your notes, while bucky had hung back because the teacher needed to talk to him about his grades. to bucky’s delight, the refreshingly disinterested girl who would’ve never given him a second glance without necessity was the tutor that your teacher had recommended.

call him a masochist, but he loved that you treated him with just as much disdain as you treated the rest of his friends. it was… an unpopular opinion. att least, his friends—consisting of three-quarters of alpha delta theta and a little less than half the school’s men’s lacrosse team—certainly thought so.

bucky shifted in his seat, sending another wave of his cologne your way. you tried not to show how much he was affecting you, but you broke immediately when the arm he’d been resting on the back of your chair had finally snaked itself over until his fingers had settled on your shoulders. he began massaging small, slow circles into your skin, and you thought you might melt and mold yourself into the chair.

“okay, i- i think this is pretty good.” you scooted your chair away from him just an inch with reluctance; he smelled wonderful and had a warm presence and was so, so lovely… however, you were here to help him with physics, not get seduced. (though you’d obviously prefer the latter.)

a momentary flash of disappointment—or was that hurt?—crossed his face before it settled into its usual expression; in other words, he was gorgeous and he knew it.

“it’s not pretty good,” bucky took the paper from your hands with his eyebrows pinched in concentration. your stomach sank. “it’s amazing, doll. how are you- fuck, why do are you so beautiful and so, so smart? you’re killing me, here.”

you begged to differ. you were the one on the verge of combustion.

you pursed your lips to hide the embarrassingly exposing beam that threatened to escape and reveal your hopeless affinity for a man who was obviously out of your league. you wanted to hate bucky, you really, really did, but it made sense why he was able to pull whichever strings he wanted to. he was charismatic, confident, and had a way of leaving people in a dreamy, delirious daze that made them vulnerable to whatever kind of intention bucky had. he’d passed numerous classes that he had decidedly failed, slept with too many people to count—his pool was endless; male and female both—and had somehow managed to talk himself out of a suspension after he’d managed to break a window. 

so was it wrong to be wary of his advances? as far as you knew, he was still “talking” to your roommate’s ex-boyfriend’s lab partner (though it seemed as if not many words were being exchanged in their ‘conversations’) and supposedly was hooking up with the quarterback. 

but those could be rumors, your inner naive schoolgirl with a crush said. rumors have an element of truth to them, your rational side said. you interact with less than half the number of people he’s friends with, your cynical side said, and he’s only talking to you so he can go back to his theta kappa beta alpha friends and make fun of you. 

“bucky, i appreciate the… compliments, i really do. and i mean this with, uh, kindness, but don’t you think it’s a little… immature? manipulative? i don’t know, i just-”

this time, the crestfallen look on bucky’s face lingered, and it was most definitely one of hurt. “manipulative? sweetheart, i’d never manipulate you into anything, oh god no! i don’t und-”

“well, you’re always making fun of me so you can get some reaction out of me, and i don’t understand the appeal of trying to- to fluster somebody for entertainment, and maybe it makes this whole ‘tutoring session’ more interesting for you, but damn it, that’s not fair to me!” you snapped, eyes narrowed with malice.

you expected bucky to reciprocate. to hiss at you, or deny it, or make some vaguely misogynistic comment, but he just sat there, like a kicked puppy that had also been caught in the rain. he licked his lips enticingly and his eyes flickered down to… your lips? was that it? 

the gall of him, to continue to mock you even after you’d confronted him.

bucky laughed bitterly, shaking his head. his knee was bouncing and it was giving you secondhand anxiety. “i can’t- ha, i can’t believe you’d think that’s what- have i not been obvious enough? i don’t understand why- why you don’t understand. i like you, a lot, actually. i have since the first week of physics when you told the professor he was wrong and then pulled out evidence. 

“why would you think that i’m…” he looked at you incredulously, “making fun of you? if anything, you’re the one who’s teasing me! i’ve been trying to, well, yeah, i’ve been trying to get a reaction out of you so i can see if you feel the same way!

“and you always seem to do this little routine, where i’ll try and ask you out or- or tell you that you look pretty, or ask you questions about yourself and you do this fucking scrunch,” he pointed to his face, “on your nose, and it kills me. and it kills me that you always scoff at me like i’m nothing but you’re like… the whole world, or something. you’re like, the bonnie to my clyde.”

you bit your lip to keep yourself from smiling, not wanting to spoil his rant. “bonnie and clyde were serial killers,” you whispered amusedly. bucky looked at you, took a mental note, and continued without correcting himself.

“you’re the… apple to my eye. the chicken to my egg. and the… alpha theta to my kappa beta. and i think you’re incredible, i really do, but you won’t even give me the time of day. so yeah, i don’t understand why you think i’m the one manipulating you.

“there’s obviously a social power dynamic here,” bucky added, waving his hands around like that would help make his point clearer. “you’re cool and smart and people love you, and i’m like, a piece of shit, kinda. so i guess it makes sense why you don’t like me.

 but that’s beside the point. you have the dominant position in this relationship because you’re the one tutoring me; therefore, my performance relies on your decisions. you wield the power of controlling my gpa or whatnot. and did i mention that you’re smart and pretty? so basically, you’re just better than me which means in society, aka the individual social bubble that is every academic institution, you have more, um, influence than i do. you’re like, the prefect, and i’m the dude you report for breaking curfew. or you’re like, the ta, and i’m the guy whose essay you rip apart.

‘cause you’re like, shit, you’re so wow. and i’m so, wow,” he said the second bit with exaggerated sarcasm and a dramatic eye roll. “and i learned about all this in women’s studies, so if you think i’m pulling this out of my ass, go talk to bell hooks and simone de beauvoir, alright? i’m not, like, trying to manipulate you into a date or anything—not that i’d complain about getting a date, or like, just a shot, and i mean shot as in chance, not as in alcohol—i just really like you. like, like-like you.”

bucky took a deep, shuddering breath after his profession of infatuation. you gaped, probably comparable to a fish, at the frat-adjacent, notorious fuckboy, and delectable specimen of a man in front of you who also took women’s studies and also seemed to genuinely want to take you out on a date—though you weren’t particularly sure about the second one since his explanation was very long and not very easy to follow—that you’d severely misjudged.

“i-” you sputtered, for once, out of wit. “that’s so… nice.” you fiddled with the paper that the two of you had been working on. you could hear the sound of bucky’s heart shattering from where you sat. 

you hung your head in your hands, bewildered. “okay, you said you didn’t understand what i said but now i’m not understanding what you said because you’re saying i’m all… admired and intellectual and alluring and, powerful, even, but i- i’m not. bucky, i’m literally sitting in the library tutoring you on a subject i suck at because i have no other weekend plans and because i’ve been bullshitting my way through this class and the professor just so happened to eat it up.

“i don’t know what i’m doing either, bucky. i’m not- i’m not as good as you think i am. i’m… if we’re going back to that stupid chicken-egg analogy, you’re like a crowing morning rooster and i’m an egg produced by a capitalist’s hellish factory farm that’s dropped on the ground and will probably grow mold before someone cleans it up.” you paused. “oh wow, that was a way worse metaphor than yours, wasn’t it?”

bucky shook his head, a brilliant, dopey smile slowly growing on his face. “no. no, that was… so beautiful. you’re so smart,” he insisted, and it seemed like he genuinely believed it. “you think you’re some- some rotten egg, but to me, you’re an eggs benedict that’s been approved by gordon ramsey. you keep saying all these self-deprecating things and y’know, my therapist says that’s really bad for your subconscious perception of yourself and your value, and i know i just said that you’re smart but you’re actually being so stupid right now. because i think you’re really awesome. so…”

bucky swung his legs under his seat, which was really awkward because his legs were already so long that his knees were brushing the top of the table, so it looked more like he was trying to kick the table apart.

“can i kiss you?” bucky breathed, eyes scanning your face with pure adoration.

“absolutely not,” you grimaced, planting your hand on his face and pushing it away. “don’t push it. but… how does dinner at 7 tonight sound? not the cafeteria shit, i’ll take you somewhere nice. and don’t get it twisted, i’m asking you out, okay?” 

bucky nodded eagerly, going from kicked, wet puppy to newly-adopted, instagram account worthy puppy. “i- wow, thank you! wow. i’m so- yes, i will be there. should i get flowers or are you going to do the flowers thing? because i really like you a lot and i don’t want to mess this up and-”

“i’ll do the flowers. and the picking you up. and if you’re a good boy, maybe you’ll get a kiss at the end of the night. does that sound okay?”

it sounded more than okay to bucky.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

bucky barnes masterlist | main masterlist

taglist: (comment to be added!)

@bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @im-a-slut-for-fluff

[winterlovesong1]

A Nace comparison evaluation of 2x01 and 4x03…

(this is very lengthy as a warning...)

Nancy is the one to enter the scene in 2x01. She’s the one to start the conversation, to gain Ace’s attention. Because she feels like its her responsibility, it’s her wrongdoing to make right…

 Nancy: I know that you blame me for getting us into this situation. And I really want to make it right, but I can’t do that if you’re mad at me.

 It’s her burden to carry, her weight to distribute upon both her shoulders. As if she has no one to help her. No one else she can trust to aid her through to a solution. She’s the one that needs to make it right.

 (but Ace is there. Ace has always been there. To help. To share the burden)

 Ace: What I’m mad at, is the idea that I might die very soon. Right when I’m figuring out how to be a part of something I really care about.

 Ace has found his purpose, his place to land, a place he feels appreciated, safe, and can thrive. And Nancy is a person within that place, she resides there and is a much apart of making it that way as the rest of the crew. And he doesn’t want that to end. He doesn’t want that to be lost.

 What he’ll later refer to…

 Nancy: I’m not gonna let us die.

 Ace: I never doubted that.

 Ace believes in this community – in his crew - but what he really places a lot of his faith in is Nancy. Her fortitude and perseverance are constants that never waver. And he admires them. He aspires to them.

 (he wishes he wasn’t so lacking in them…)

 (but Nancy teaches him he’s not)

 (Nancy teaches him he’s just as courageous, if not more so, than herself)

 Nancy: So, you’re still mad?

 Ace: I’m scared. Sometimes you just have to let fear be.

 Ace himself saying it’s ok to be scared. It’s ok to feel the uncertainty that life brings and rest in that for a little while. It’s ok to be vulnerable. To just be. And he’s voicing this to Nancy. He’s admitting these truths to her. A leap because Nancy is so guarded herself, protecting herself, unwilling to share things like this most of the time. Going back to the point of Nancy teaching Ace he was never lacking, he has always brave in his honesty with her.

 Ace: Next time you feel like sacrificing yourself, to prove you’re not a Hudson. Please don’t. Just ‘cause I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I want to lose you.

 This is where I’m going to also list the quote from 4x03 and see how that pairs with this one…

 Ace: If there is a death curse on us, maybe it would be better to not fight it. And exist in a world together. As friends.

 Going back to the just ‘cause I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I want to lose you quote in 2x01, it’s the idea that even though one negative emotion exists, whether it’s anger or frustration or feeling defeated, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want her present. He wants her around to feel all those emotions alongside. To share in all of it  – even the bad - maybe, even especially the bad, because he’s felt alone his entire life, told he was lacking and wouldn’t amount to much, but with her, she makes him feel less alone, she makes him feel a part of something, she makes him feel like he’s worth so much. And so, he’d rather have her around to share in at least those things, in at least the few things that lie outside the realm of being together, the things that live in the peripheral of strong feelings and their undeniable connection to each other. He’d rather experience at least those things than live in a world where she didn’t exist. Where he couldn’t experience anything with her. Nothing at all. Because she’s gone.

 (because he lost her)

 Nancy: Did you not feel what I felt?

 Ace: Of course, I did. But then you weren’t breathing. And I was holding you in my arms. And going through everything that you went through in Temperance’s hallucination, and it was awful. And I totally get why you were hesitant to tell me the truth.

 This was the worst possible outcome for him. Because again, he doesn’t want to lose her – he can’t lose her – and going through that, it only solidifies in his mind that very fact. It’s not an option. There’s no other path than backward. Hence, the I can’t go forward. Hence, why it hurts so much when she says I can’t go back because that’s the only way he knows how to move.

 (that’s the only way to keep her safe)

 (to not lose her)

 Nancy: Right, but I’m not scared anymore. I let fear keep me away from you for too long.

 This is an interesting tie into Ace’s quote from 2x01 about I’m scared. Sometimes you just have to let fear be. He was saying it was ok to let yourself feel afraid, but what he maybe didn’t say, what he perhaps was implying was its ok to let fear be, but not for it stay. It’s ok to let it visit, but don’t let it linger, allow it to visit, and then let it leave. Let it go.

 And that’s what Nancy’s done. That’s what she’s learned to do.

 (with his help)

 Ace: But watching you collapse almost killed me.

 They’ve already tempted the curse once. And while he didn’t fully know it prior, he’s now gone through that experience himself, fully, vividly, and not just as a sideline listener to a story told through Nancy’s perspective, not just through her words that, while she told the details of what happened, she could never truly illustrate what she felt, what she experienced. But now he knows – now he’s shared in that similar experience, and he is not wanting to tempt this curse again because he’s seen the risk – he’s experienced the risk – and what he’d be risking is her – what he’d be losing is her.

 Bringing it back to 2x01…

 Just ‘cause I’m mad at you doesn’t mean I want to lose you.

 It’s the ultimate for him. No matter what -  he can’t lose her. And then he says what I believe is an updated version of that quote…

 Ace: I want to be with you more than anything. But it is not worth the risk.

 It’s a revised version that includes the love they have now expressed openly to each other but can’t act on. Because the risk is too great. Losing her is too great.

 And then while Nancy is the one to enter the scene in 2x01, Ace is the one to enter in 4x03. Because he has the burden now. He has the weight resting on his shoulders of an apology of sorts like Nancy was trying to give in 2x01. He’s trying to express I’m sorry I didn’t realize this was the price – losing you – and that’s too great for me.

 (that’s the ultimate for me)

 But what’s an interesting parallel is that Ace is the one to leave in both scenes. He’s the one to leave Nancy to think about the conversation. Because Ace is always trying to maintain Nancy’s agency in her choices. He’s never trying to push her to a decision. Even when she’s the one to offer her regrets or mistakes in 2x01, he’s the one to essentially give her space, to say in him leaving it’s your decision what you do with these words, it’s your decision how you process this. And he does the same in 4x03.

 He might be telling her his fears, but even with his approach he was saying “let’s talk about this…” – to share the words, to not deliver her a preset decision.

 And so he leaves and gives her space to process. And I think in both scenes it’s a call to reevaluate – for Nancy in 2x01, it was to recognize she wasn’t alone in her burden – she had people to rest her weight on – to share in that weight – she had a crew – she had Ace. She didn’t have to make it right all by herself. She didn’t have to sacrifice herself. Alone. And in 4x03, it’s similar. It’s a call to reevaluate. Because the rules have changed. It’s not him that’s being lost. It’s her. And that changes things. That changes things for him. And so, she has to reevaluate how they move forward because he can’t and she can’t go back.

 So where does that leave them?

 Maybe they don’t move at all. Maybe they stay where they are and they share the burden – they share the weight with those around them – they let people in to help. Because they aren’t alone in this.

 They never were.

[egg-emperor]

What are your thoughts on Sonic Superstars as a whole?

I liked it! It's simple and fun, it serves its purpose as a classic game and captures the feel of the 2D main titles well in a cool new 3D way in gameplay, controls, music, plot, animation, etc. Definitely prefer Mania, especially since I replayed it earlier in the year to refresh myself on it but that doesn't mean it's bad in comparison like some are saying. It holds up against all the other classic games well, I think, so I consider that a win.

I had fun with it. I had to play single player but I feel it would've been a little more enjoyable on multi because it definitely felt like some parts were designed with it in mind, such as the length of the bosses and how much damage they can take, as I can imagine it would've been over in seconds if four players were all fighting it at once if they hadn't. True or not, some feel they drag on a little too much on single player.

The bosses ranged from enjoyable to frustratingly difficult because of how long they were. I can imagine that isn't so much of a problem with multiple players. The actual stages were almost too easy in comparison, they lacked the challenge Mania constantly offered but it made for nice relaxed gameplay in comparison where I could just sit back and enjoy, (which I'd been wanting after the nightmare difficulty of Final Horizon lol) so it's not terrible.

The Eggman themed stages like Pinball Carnival, Press Factory, and Egg Fortress included basically all my favorites and that's not even just my bias, they were the most fun for me gameplay wise too- and they also looked really fucking cool. I always love when Eggman's love for carnival shows and the dark industrial pollution of Press Factory was so awesome and my element, I enjoyed the look and the stakes of act 2 🥰💜

The new robots and boss designs both the funny huge animals and ones Eggman got to pilot were really cool too! And Eggman's adorable model and all his animations were just so precious, he's so full of life and charm and character and made me so happy. 💕 I wish he'd gotten more drawn animation and context in the plot in game but combined with the prequel comic, manga, and Trio of Trouble, it was a good amount.

Admittedly, I haven't played all of the game yet, only the main story mode, so I can only speak for that. I skipped all the extra optional acts and haven't played Trip's and the Last Story. Mostly because I got the game a couple days early but was in a rush to be somewhere, so I only played what I had to get the Eggman related stuff I needed, make my video, and be on my way. XD After main story, I didn't mind spoiling myself the rest.

I find it odd how Eggman is completely absent from Trip's and the Last Story, I hoped to see more of how Trip joined his side and I also feel there at least should've been a bit of context provided for how the dragon got out to fight because it was strange how it just appeared out of nowhere and went just as fast. I didn't expect crazy depth from a classic game but that was a little too random to just throw at you like that lol

But other than that it pretty much gave us just about everything I expected and I'm happy with it. I kinda don't think it was quiiite worth £60 as I enjoyed Mania more and that was way less expensive, (though maybe that's too soon for me to say as I haven't played the other two campaigns), so I say unless you're super eager then maybe wait for a price drop- but I do recommend the experience for a nice little fun time with a faithful classic feel!

[pandoramsbox]

Sci-Fi Saturday: Things to Come

Week 18

Film(s): Things to Come (Dir. William Cameron Menzies, 1936, UK)

Viewing Format: Blu-Ray: Criterion Edition

Date Watched: 2021

Rationale for Inclusion:

Once upon a time in 2006, my partner and I took a formal science fiction film genre class during our year abroad at the University of East Anglia. Like Aelita: Queen of Mars (Аэли́та, Dir. Yakov Protazanov, 1924, USSR), Things to Come (Dir. William Cameron Menzies, 1936, UK) was on the syllabus. Also like Aelita, my partner and I remembered that it was interesting, and had great set pieces, but we did not like it enough to watch it again until this survey gave us the excuse.

Plus with a screenplay by H.G. Wells, adapted from his own 1933 book The Shape of Things to Come, the film would have been worth watching for that point alone.

Reactions:

Maybe I had forgotten, or maybe it did not hit the same way the last time I watched it in 2006, but I was taken aback by how ideologically fascist Things to Come becomes after its first act. Despite being a Fabian Society socialist, who was watching fascism and authoritarianism on the rise in Europe, Wells took the stance in The Shape of Things to Come and this film adaptation that the only way to unify the world, and bring about lasting peace and technological advancement, was under a benevolent dictatorship. Maybe being a man of the Victorian era, he simply thought imperialism and monarchy was fine when done the English way, despite it being frowned upon when anyone else did it. 

Watching Things to Come in 2021, amid nationalism having a surge in popularity and being well aware of the history of colonialism and how much support Nazi ideology had in what would become the Allied countries in World War II, I was left with the impression that the film was pro-fascist.

The aesthetic of Wings Over the World being what they are, all militaristic and black, it is hard not to draw comparisons to the aesthetics of German Nazis or Italian Fascists. Given how explicitly anti-war Things to Come is leading up to John Cabal (Raymond Massey) flying up to Everytown, the audience is positioned to be as leery of this purposefully intimidating presence as the Boss (Ralph Richardson) is upon meeting the outsider. (Besides, dude looks like Boris Karloff.) 

The Boss's leery defensiveness clashes with Cabal's self-assured pompousness, and the latter is taken prisoner. When the rest of his force comes to rescue Cabal, they rain down "The Gas of Peace" to incapacitate the populus, rescue their man, and take over Everytown. Given the mission of Wings Over the World, the taking of Everytown was inevitable, it was just a matter of how willingly the Boss and his community went.

A militaristic anti-war organization that uses something called "The Gas of Peace" is downright Orwellian (despite this film coming out 12 years before the publication of Animal Farm and 16 before Nineteen Eighty-Four) or it would be if it was meant satirically instead of sincerely. The heroic aviators and use of gas as vital technology were standards of the science fiction of this era, as we saw in F.P.1 (F.P.1 antwortet nicht, Dir. Karl Hartl, 1932, Germany), but the prior act of Things to Come being so explicitly anti-war makes it hard not to view a group that uses militarism to achieve their goals as anything but malevolent in the context of the filmic universe, even as the film narrative insists that Wings Over the World and their methods are positive and beneficial to humanity.

The third act of Things to Come, set a generation or two in the future from the second act, in 2036, shows glorious, gleaming subterranean cities that have been built under the leadership of Wings Over the World. Although this type of utopia's homogeneity is its own kind of concerning, the way the government is dismissive of the protestation of citizens that think technology is advancing too fast and the closing speech by Oswald Cabal (Massey again), the leader of the government and grandson of John Cabal, that humanity "must go on, conquest beyond conquest" only reinforces the second act's message that fascism is the necessary key to a successful society.

Did Wells and the filmmakers ever realize that what they were advocating in this film was the same ideology of the Axis powers that their country went to war against? Or was I right the first time when I wondered that authoritarian rule was fine for these Englishmen as long as it was the English doing the ruling?

Needless to say, I do not like Things to Come. I recognize the quality of the filmmaking, special effects and this film's impact on later genre films, but its politics are off putting. I find it equally off putting that most of the negative criticism towards this film is focused on its narrative structure and dull characters. Granted, those things were probably why I had not watched the film for 15 years. Plus, the third act absolutely drags in its pacing.

If I were to teach a science fiction cinema class, I likely would include Things to Come on the curriculum. It's a well made and interesting work of science fiction and has a lot of components to pick at and discuss; as evident from everything I wrote above. I just won't be throwing it on when I want some vintage sci-fi on a rainy afternoon, unlike most of the other films discussed in this survey thus far.

[agentgrange]

I have reason to believe, based on a rabbit hole I went down last night, that there is an ongoing war happening between the National Parks Service and the US Park Police. I take no joy in reporting that the National Parks Service isn't immune from ACAB, with the Park Police being undisciplined dickhead cowboys with unchecked authority in the greater DC Metro area. Even the local county police hate them to the point of leaking evidence the Park Police have withheld from the public and bringing manslaughter charges against Park Police officers following the killing of Binam Ghaisar. Charges that were only stopped by FBI intervention and a proceeding cover up. The legacy of which haunts the organization and colors everything that has happened in the last few months.

There seems to have been what I can only describe as a soft coup by appointing Jessica Taylor as park police chief. The park police union has been eroding the legitimacy of the National Parks Service (otherwise a very progressive liberal institution in comparison to basically every other US government agency) for decades now and I think the wider agency is trying to reign them in even if that means bringing in a rival ex Secret Service hatchet-woman turned EPA auditor. Its worth noting that the Secret Service have a long history of resentment towards the Park Police due to overlapping jurisdictions within Washington DC and their general lack of discipline with their rivalry often breaking out into outright hostility including the assault and detention of a black Secret Service agent. Being a former Secret Service agent, Taylor would be well aware of the Park Police's reputation before her appointment.

Her appointment was rushed through by Park Service’s associate director of visitor and resource protection Jennifer Flynn, seemingly against the wishes of the police union who expected the Park Service to rubber stamp their candidate like previous appointments.

To which I say-- Lol. Lmao even. The Park Police are clearly used to appointing their own oversight and have an incredibly disproportionate amount of power within the NPS that is increasingly at odds with the rest of the agency. All this in mind, it really reads like Flynn brought Taylor in as a deliberate outsider in the hopes of bringing more oversight to the organization that won't immediate fold to the union or engage with their over-up plans every time the Park Police murder someone.

Jennifer Flynn, for her part, doesn't come from the Park Police but instead spent her whole career as a Park Ranger working in various capacities. Maybe its just me but when you see her you think "oh yeah that's definitely what I would expect a park ranger to look like" unlike the hotdog necks at the USPP. While only the associate director, she's been working quietly and smartly to find ways to reign in the park police including amending their jurisdiction over "felony investigations of property crimes, and crimes against society such as serious drug related offenses" under the guise of staffing cuts. To be clear, she unilaterally made the decision that the Park Police may no longer investigate or arrest citizens for non-violent offenses. Again, I can't help but see this as a direct response from sympathetic members of the agency to the Park Police's killing of Bijan Ghaisar to gradually remove the Park Police's authority to carry out law enforcement except when absolutely necessary.

Its an interesting situation to be sure, and while I don't count these two ladies as any sort of socialist heroes on "our side" (they're federal enforcement officers at the end of the day) I'm willing to lend them critical support in their attempts to quietly defang the Park Police. Maybe its wishful thinking but I like to imagine based on everything I've read that there is some sort of concentrated deliberate effort being done here that's successfully circumvented politics by *actually wielding authority to drive positive change* even if they know the limits of their authority necessitates that they do it quietly. USPP clearly thinks of themselves as police officers first and members of the National Parks Service second, and are clearly at odds with the rest of their organization's values. I hope this continues until we see the Park Police be restructured into glorified mall cops with no institutional influence while the bulk of their role is taken over by more responsible organizations within the NPS like the National Park Service Law Enforcement Rangers and other special agents that prioritize the safety of the public over brutalizing people over property enforcement & petty crimes.

Why am I posting this here???... Because so much of my writing has to do with the National Parks Service and the Department of the Interior. Here I am with potentially a genuine case of inter-agency intrigue while conducting completely unrelated research. You can't blame me for wanting to dig into this more and see where it goes. Consider this a story, food for thought, when thinking about these organizations.

[celestial-robots]

Finding Equinox

A Sun & Moon X Reader Story

Chapter Three: Mr. Sunshine and Mr. Moon

First | Previous

Word Count: 6943

Summary: After the disaster and injury of your last shift, you return to the Pizzaplex with a peace offering and a new determination to figure out what the hell is going on with Sun... and that other personality, too.

Author’s Note: I know, I know, it’s been a HOT minute since the last chapter. The only explanation I have is that the executive dysfunction got real bad guys :( I completely forgot about this story, but now I have remembered all the ideas I had and I am determined to finish it. Please hold me accountable. I hope anyone who remembers this story find this new part and enjoys it XD :)

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True to your word, you had gone down to the nearest first aid station after leaving the daycare, grabbing a cold pack and wrapping your torso in bandages. It was sheer luck that you didn’t have that many tasks for the rest of the evening. That night at home and the next day absolutely sucked. The pain from landing on your back faded, but didn’t go away, lingering in the back of your mind and flaring up when you moved the wrong way.

Your doctor’s office closed at eight, meaning that by the time your shift ended at nine it was too late to call and schedule an appointment. So you did that the next morning, braving down the dreaded “making a phone call” part of being an adult. It went easier than you expected. Unfortunately, you knew that getting your injury checked out wouldn’t be so easy. You would have to make an appointment with your doctor, then get your doctor to help you make more appointments for various procedures, then go to those procedures to figure out what was wrong...ugh. At least Fazbear Entertainment provided surprisingly good health insurance. They probably expected injuries like this—or worse—to happen on the job.

Speaking of which...was it worth it to email management and explain that you were injured? Would they tell you to get to work anyway? You highly suspected that was the case, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask for a lighter workload anyway. But then again, maybe they would make you stay home. And you needed that explanation from Sun. Not to mention you promised him you’d show up the next day to prove you were alright.

In the end, you drafted a very polite and unassuming email to management explaining that you’d injured your back and that you were willing to come to work but would prefer if you had less laborious tasks. They responded the next morning saying that they would keep that in mind but that “If there is something that needs to be taken care of and you are the most convenient option, you will be assigned to it.” Yep. That was about what you were expecting.

Well if you had to head to work, which you did, (damn you capitalism!) you would have to add to your Survival Pack. It now included bandages and an ice bag—one that could be refilled with ice from the various restaurants around the Pizzaplex. Sun suggested that you cool your injury for twenty minutes every hour, and that lined up with a lot of the advice you’d seen online. So it looked like you were going to have to stop working every twenty minutes to move the ice pack to a different area of your back and secure it there with the bandages. Hopefully that email was at least slightly truthful in the task decrease. Otherwise you might end up staying late. And when your shift already ended at three in the morning, staying late was far from convenient.

The moment you stepped through the doors and clocked in on your FazWatch, you were greeted by that familiar ping! “New task added!” Groaning, you checked the screen. A STAFF bot had fallen down some utility stairs and broken off its arm. You were required to replace it.

Dread filled your stomach. It had finally arrived. The fateful moment where you had to try and repair a robot, which you had no idea how to do. At least it was just a STAFF bot. Those were simple in comparison to the headlining animatronics, and you were pretty sure they weren’t as sentient, either. But still, you knew this would take a good while to figure out how to reattach a robot arm. You hesitated, standing in the middle of the front entrance, watching happy families flow around you to the various Pizzaplex attractions. After a good minute of putting it off, you finally started moving again, looking for a way into Parts and Service.

It took a while, but eventually you found your way through the maze of utility tunnels and arrived at the red double doors that led into Parts and Service. Pushing through those doors, you found yourself in a large room, with various smaller rooms around the perimeter. Your attention was immediately drawn to the middle, where a big glass cylinder stood as the room’s centerpiece. But also, equally as attention-grabbing, there were two real human people standing by a computer terminal and talking.

You half-wanted to go up and introduce yourself, but the two of them looked busy. So instead, you walk around the edge of the room, looking for that broken STAFF bot. There it was: in one of the side rooms. You hurried over, passing through the already-open door and into the side room. Alright...how were you supposed to do this?

There was a box on a table. You glanced inside and saw a detached STAFF arm as well as some tools. You could identify the most obvious of them—hammer, screwdrivers, wrenches of various sizes—but some of them eluded you. Was that a drill or a nail gun? Was the long metal tool with a hole in the end also a kind of wrench or was it something else? And, most importantly, which of these were necessary for arm replacement?

You slowly pick up the STAFF arm, thinking that maybe if you looked at the joint you could figure out what to use. But before you could do that, there was a SLAM! behind you as the door suddenly closed. You yelped in surprise and spun around. That was startling. But no problem, you just had to open the door again...except that it wasn’t opening. You tried pushing, pulling, and sliding, all to no avail. The door was locked. But luckily, the wall next to it is glass. “Uh...hello?” You wave through the window. “I’m locked in!”

Outside, the two people had moved and are right outside the room you’re in. They must have closed the door. One of them, a woman with dark curly hair, noticed you. She reached over and tapped the shoulder of the other person, a man with auburn hair. Once he turned back to look at her, she points at you and then at the room’s door. The man’s eyes widened, and he hurried over, opening the door from the other side. “Sorry about that,” he said the moment it was opened. “I didn’t even see you in there.”

You laughed. “No, uh, it’s okay. I’m just confused. I-I couldn’t open the door.”

“Yeah, they’re set to a ridiculously high Security Level. There’s no real reason for it, not like there’s anything dangerous in here.” The man chuckled. “Are you new here?”

“Yeah, it’s my third day. I’m, uh...well, technically I’m a technician, but I’m not really qualified. They just decided that I should be one, I guess.”

“Oh cool! That means Pamela here is your boss.” The man gestured back at the woman, who was standing some ways back. “I’m Seth, by the way. Security.”

You introduced yourself, giving the pair of them a better look now that you were no longer distracted by being locked in. Both of them were older than you, with Seth looking to be in his mid-30s and Pamela in her 50s. Seth’s hair was neatly coiffed underneath a black baseball cap with “SECURITY” written across it in white letters. He wore a white button up shirt with black shoulders and an image of a badge on the lapel. Pamela’s curly hair was pulled back with a red bandanna. She wore overalls, but underneath you recognized the same style of shirt you were wearing: the employee T-shirt.

“Well it’s nice to meet you,” Seth said, grinning. “Right, Pam?”

Pamela hummed a vague affirmation.

“Had any trouble yet?” Seth continued.

“Uh...not much,” you said slowly. “But, you know, I did hurt my back recently, and uh...doing manual labor with that is gonna suck a—it’s gonna suck.” You refrained from saying ‘it’s going to suck ass’ in front of your work superiors.

“Oh, well, if you ever get any task that you don’t think you can do, why don’t you call Pam or me to come help?” Seth offered.

“Hey, don’t rope me into this,” Pamela grumbled. “My desk is piled high with Glamrocks.”

“I thought you didn’t have a desk.”

“It’s a metaphor, genius.”

Seth chuckled good-naturedly. “Well, if you ever get a moment of free time, you can help out the new kid, right?”

“I’m not a kid,” you muttered under your breath. Thankfully, neither of them seemed to hear you. You continue, in a louder volume, “What do you mean call you? Like, on your phones? Should I give you my number?”

“No, on the watch.” Seth held up his hand, and you saw that he also had a company-issued FazWatch, identical to yours.

“Call...on the watch?” you repeated, blankly looking down at your own FazWatch.

“Yeah, it works like a walkie talkie. Oh, but you have to enable it in the settings.” Seth leaned over, helpfully pointing at the gear icon in the corner of the screen. “You can also change your voice settings there, the text size, screen color, all that fun stuff.”

“Huh.” You shifted the STAFF bot to your elbow and tapped the gear icon with your newly free hand. The settings opened and you navigated through the menus until you found the ‘Enable Calls’ option. Once you returned to the main screen, a new tab had appeared, simply labeled ‘Calls.’ “Well would you look at that. ~The More You Knooow~!” You laughed. It soon became awkward as neither Seth nor Pamela laughed with you. “...ah. Uh, I’ll add you, then?”

“Yep. Just search up our names.”

A few seconds later, you had added Seth (Seth Myer) and Pamela (Pamela Brooks) to your FazWatch contacts. Out of curiosity, you also searched up that Jeremy kid from yesterday and added him as well (Jeremy Patrick). “Well, uh, thank you,” you said. “I-I’ll keep that in mind for the rest of my shift, haha.” You took a step backwards. “For now, uh...I gotta figure out how to replace this robot’s arm.”

Pamela sighed, and stepped forward. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

“Oh I wasn’t trying to—”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not gonna be doing this for you all the time. You’re gonna stay right here and watch me do this so you know.”

“...Oh. Um, okay. Thanks.” You stood there and watched as Pamela rummaged through the box on the table and began pulling out bolts that had collected in the bottom. You appreciated the help, but felt a bit offended that she didn’t wait for you to ask for it.

Seth stepped backwards, giving a joking little salute. “I’ll be heading out, then. Guess I’ll be seeing you two later.”

“Yeah, see you later.” You waved a bit awkwardly as you watched Seth walk out of the red double doors and disappear into the utility tunnels.

“Hand me the arm.”

You started. “What?”

“Arm.” Pamela held out a hand.

“Oh, right.” You’d forgotten you were still holding the replacement STAFF arm. You held it out to Pamela. “Heh. You want me to lend you a hand?”

Pamela was not amused, as she took the STAFF arm and held it up to the empty spot on the STAFF bot. “Now, do you see this round space at the shoulder of the arm? That’s for the joint. It’ll take a bit to pop it on, but don’t push too hard or you’ll break it. Once you got that on, you take these bolts...”

Pamela ended up going over the entire robotic anatomy of a STAFF bot, explaining the fine details of joints and wheels and ocular sensors until your head filled up with information and started to leak. It was sort of interesting, but there was just too much of it, and by the time she let you leave three new tasks had been added to your list.

You weren’t sure if it was luck or if management had actually listened to your email request, but the tasks this shift weren’t too intense. Well, some of them were. You spent about half an hour with your arms buried in the back of a large stage speaker as you cleaned dust from the insides. But hey, at least you could sit on the floor for that and didn’t have to bend too far forwards or backwards. The rest of the tasks were similar, ones where you could find some way to avoid moving your back or breathing too heavily—which was difficult with your ribs bruised, to say the least.

The Pizzaplex was a lot emptier after nine o’clock, and it got even emptier as closing time approached: midnight. By about 11pm, the place was basically a ghost town except for you and the STAFF bots. And, presumably, the few other human employees like Seth and Pamela, but you didn’t see them.

Soon, the intercom turned on. You took off your headphones just in time to hear the announcer say, “Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex is now closed. Initiating nighttime protocols.” That must mean...you checked the time on your phone. Yep, midnight. Closing time, and also your break. Perfect time to go talk to Sun. You double-checked your backpack to make sure everything was there, then headed over to the daycare, walking as quickly as you were able.

Nothing had changed in either the daycare or the surrounding areas. It was just as empty after closing as it was during open hours. That thought made your chest sink with sadness, especially now knowing that Sun wasn’t allowed to leave. You put your headphones into your backpack, allowing that catchy daycare tune to fill your head, and went through the big wooden doors into the playplace. One day, you were going to go down the slide. You swore it. Just not today, when you had some serious questions to ask.

The playplace seemed empty. You looked up to the overhead balcony to see if Sun was there. He wasn’t. “Hello?” you called. “Sun? It’s me, I’m here.”

There was no answer. Confused and a bit concerned, you wandered around, looking for any sign of the animatronic. It shouldn’t be too hard to find him, considering how tall he was. Then again, he was pretty thin and flexible, maybe he could fit into smaller spaces.

Then you saw it. In the middle of the ball pit, poking up from the surrounding colorful balls, was a crest of yellow triangles—the top of Sun’s rays peeking out. Was he hiding from you? Trying to avoid your questions, or just putting them off? Surely he knew you could see his rays.

“Hmmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips together. “Well. I guess you’re not here right now. That sucks, I’ll have to wait to give you this present.” You turned around, starting to walk back towards the doors.

Immediately there was a flurry of plastic balls as Sun shot to his feet. “Wait, don’t go!”

“Ha-ha!” You spun back around and pointed at him. “Ja’cuse! I knew it was you!”

“I-I’m sorry for hiding, friend—well, I wasn’t hiding, I was just preparing myself.” Sun climbed out of the ball pit, throwing any balls he knocked out of the pit right back in. “But I’m sorry! I-I needed a moment.”

“No, it’s okay, dude, don’t worry.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I don’t really know what the whole deal is yet, but if you need to mentally prepare, go ahead.” You decided not to point out that he had more than a full day to prepare. “Anyway. Because I know this is probably going to be a serious talk, I decided to bring you something to, uh...help offset the mood.” You took your backpack off your back.

“You said something about a present, right?” Sun leaned down over your shoulder, trying to get a good look inside your backpack as you rummaged around. “Ooo, how exciting! I haven’t gotten a present in a long time! Not since the daycare was open! Some of the kids were really, really sweet.”

“Ha, I can imagine. Well, this is sort of similar to that.” You pulled a plain manila folder out of your backpack, carefully slinging the bag back on before handing the folder to Sun. “I mean, you probably got a lot of these from kids. But I thought it would be nice.”

Sun’s face tilted, curious, as he took the folder and opened it up. “Oh. Oh!” Though his smile didn’t change, the way his voice brightened made it seem wider. “Friend! You didn’t have to go to all this effort for me!”

“It wasn’t a problem, really.” You awkwardly bounced on your feet. “I like to draw. And it seemed fitting. You know, since we were doing arts and crafts for our first meeting.”

“But you really didn’t have to!” Sun spun around—once, twice, three times in pure excitement. “It’s so pretty! I look so bright and happy! I did get a lot of drawings from kids, but they usually drew Freddy and his friends, not me. This must’ve taken a while to make. Wow!”

You chuckled. “Glad you like it, bud.” You’d spent a good while that morning digging out your old art supplies, finding a good position to sit that didn’t hurt your back, then sketching, lining, and coloring a drawing of Sun. It was cartoony in style, sort of similar to the candy ads that featured Sun. Not a copy, as you changed up the color scheme a bit and added a cooler-colored background to contrast with Sun’s warmer tones. You hoped that you were able to capture the excited energy Sun always seemed to have. Well...almost always.

“I do like it, very much! Wow...you’re so talented, friend.” Sun bent over and gave you a quick one-armed hug, squeezing just enough to avoid hurting you. “I’m going to put this in my room later.”

“Your room? You mean...that place?” You pointed up to the balcony.

“Yep! That’s our room!”

“...‘our’ room?” you repeated.

Sun froze. All the happiness seemed to drain out of his posture, leaving behind only a nervous, shuffling anxiety. “W-well...” He fidgeted with the manila folder for a bit, flapping it and the drawing it had inside. “I...guess I can’t avoid it for much longer, can I?”

“Sorry, bud. But...I-I’m really confused and I would appreciate some answers. Um...why don’t we sit down?” You lowered yourself to the ground, crossing your legs. “I wish we had actual chairs here or something,” you muttered. “I like sitting on the floor, but sometimes you need a chair.”

“There are a lot of tables and chairs in our room,” Sun said, trying to be helpful. “I could go get one—”

“Sun. Please.”

“Eheh...sorry.” Sun got down on the ground as well, folding his lanky legs beneath him and clutching the folder with your drawing to his chest. “Just thought I should offer.”

“And thanks for that. But not right now.” You let out a deep breath. “So. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday.” Sun nodded. “I-I see you’ve patched yourself up. Did you go to the doctor’s yet?”

“I tried, but I couldn’t. I made an appointment, though. It’s for Monday morning. Soonest I could book it.” You paused. “Yesterday. Was that...you?”

“No no no!” Sun shook his head furiously. “That wasn’t me at all! I would never hurt anyone, especially not you!”

“Okay...But that moon-face guy turned into you.” You shivered a bit as you remembered the transformation. Even though it was a mechanical process, the screams and shuddering made it so much more visceral that it should have been.

“H-he did...” Sun said slowly.

“If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” you asked.

Sun hesitated. “...Moon.”

“Moon?”

“Moon.”

Of course it was. Sun and Moon. Whoever named these robots was sorely lacking in creativity. “And Moon isn’t you. So...what is Moon?”

“Moon is...someone else.” Sun spoke very carefully. “The two of us have always been together. We’re the Daycare Attendant! When the lights are on, it’s my turn, but when the lights go off...he takes over.”

“Oh. Okay.” You’re beginning to put the pieces together. “You guys are two different personalities in the same body?”

“Yes! Yes, exactly!” Sun nodded. “Moon was supposed to watch the kids during Naptime and Lock-In Nights, while I looked after them during Daytime Activities! We were...supposed to work together.”

“...huh. Alright. I can see that.” You nodded as well. “Fazbear probably wanted to save money, so they built you two as one robot with two different...I don’t know, personality chips, or whatever. Instead of forking over the money for two animatronics. That fits with what I know about this fricking company.” Seriously, you’d only worked here for three days and you kept running into more money-making schemes. That thing with selling cameras in golf and then confiscating them? You were pretty sure that was illegal. “So why did Moon hunt me down and drop me from the playplace bridge?”

“I-I-I...I don’t...know,” Sun admitted.

“You don’t?” You’re a bit surprised by that. Somehow, you expected him to know. “Why not?”

“Well, I can’t exactly ask Moon why h-he does anything,” Sun explained. “We can’t talk to each other if we’re out at different times.”

“Have you never, like, written him a note or something?”

“I used to! But...Moon didn’t write a lot. Just a couple sentences, i-if anything. And some time ago, he...stopped answering at all.”

“That’s weird,” you muttered. “Okay. Then...if you had to guess. Why do you think he dropped me from the bridge?”

Sun went quiet for a moment, thinking. “Well...Moon was always scary,” he finally said. “Not a lot of kids liked him. But he kept them safe! He would never hurt a child! Then...something changed. He stopped being just scary and...things started...happening.” He paused. “Then they closed the daycare and started the Lights-On Protocol. I...I did wonder why, but like I said, he stopped answering my letters. But I could guess...I could guess.” Those last words were whispered in a hushed tone. Then Sun shook his head and his voice returned to its usual volume. “Um...did he...say anything? When he was...going after you?”

“Yeah. It was a bunch of creepy shi—stuff about it being past my bedtime and me needing to sleep. Which made no sense, because it was like six in the evening. My guess is that he was going to knock me out. As some sort of fricked-up way of putting me to bed. It makes sense with what you said about him being in charge of Naptime.” You thought about it. “Maybe...something went wrong with his protocols? Like a glitch or something. Made him start using force to put anyone to sleep.”

“A glitch?” Sun’s face rotated to the side. “That would make sense, but is it possible?”

You laughed darkly. “Sun. I know you can’t leave the daycare, so you probably don’t realize this. But there’s some scary rumors about Fazbear Entertainment. Apart from shady corporation things, I mean. They’ve inspired horror games for a reason. A glitch that makes animatronics hurt people, or even kill them? It’s exactly the sort of things people whisper about with this company.”

“Oh.” Sun went quiet for a moment. Then suddenly, he leaned forward and grabbed your shoulders, bursting into fast, frantic words. “But I don’t have a glitch! I promise! I would never hurt anyone, I would never even think of it! Even if Moon does, it doesn’t affect me, so there’s nothing wrong! I promise, there’s nothing wrong! I’m alright!”

“Whoa, whoa, Sun, calm down!” You instinctively put your hands on top of his, gently pushing them off your shoulders. You held his hands tight—even though each one was almost twice as big as your own—and smiled reassuringly. “I know you’re alright. You’ve been nothing but nice and great these past couple days. Nothing’s going to happen to you. Or Moon. Or the both of you.”

“Are you sure?” Sun asked in a small voice.

“I’m sure.”

After a second, Sun sighed, and leaned back. He slowly pulled his hands away from yours, seeming reluctant to you. “Well...I-I’m sorry about Moon,” he said.

“It’s fine, it’s not your fault,” you said.

“I promise, I really don’t have any control over him.”

“I know. You guys have like, a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde thing going on, I get it.”

Sun’s face rotated to the side. “A who and who thing?”

“Oh. Oh! That’s right, you probably don’t—I don’t know why I thought you knew. Even when the daycare was open, I doubt kids were telling you about that.” You laughed. “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is a gothic novel that’s kind of developed into a pop culture symbol of alter egos and split personalities. Basically this scientist guy, Dr. Jekyll, makes a potion...formula...thing that gives him a second person in his head, Mr. Hyde, who he transforms into. Hyde looks different than Jekyll and causes all sorts of trouble and chaos. There’s a really good musical about it, actually, where Hyde is the darker form of Jekyll. It’s great, but the original book is a bit...different...” You trailed off.

Sun had gone still at some point during this explanation. His white eyes seemed even blanker than usual as he stared at you.

“You, uh...you alright, dude?” you asked slowly.

Sun suddenly jerked to attention. “Yes! I’m great, friend, thank you! Tha-that’s a very interesting story.”

“Yeah.” You nodded slowly. “It’s really good. I think I can pull up the musical’s soundtrack, if you want.”

“Oh. M-maybe another time, friend? I...I think I need...some time.” Sun looked down, again fidgeting with his bells and ribbons.

“Alright. Take all the time you need.” You uncrossed your legs and get to your feet slowly, careful not to aggravate your bruised ribs. Then you check the time on your phone. “My break ends soon, anyway, and I still need to eat.”

“You shouldn’t be eating so late in the night, friend,” Sun said, looking back up.

“Well I burn a lot of calories working here, so I need the energy. Besides, I’m not going to bed for at least four more hours.” You began to realize how much your work schedule was going to mess up your sleep schedule, and mentally curse. “I have another shift tomorrow at these same hours. Should I come see you then?”

“Yes, yes, that would be great. Thank you.” Sun got to his feet. “I’m going to go put your present in my room. I’ll hang it up right on the wall!”

You laughed. “Alright, bud. Thanks. I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m glad you gave it to me! I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeppers.”

“Great! Great.” Sun nodded. “I-I’ll look forward to it.”

“Me too, bud.” You headed towards the wooden doors. “See you then.”

“See you!” Sun waved as you left, the movement more subdued than usual.

You ended up eating at one of the many pizza places around the Pizzaplex, grateful that they still made food after closing time. Soon after you finished your second slice of cheesy pizza, your FazWatch let out its distinctive ping! “Two new tasks added!” You wondered if you could mute it. But alas, the most you could do in the settings was lower the volume. Well, at least your headphones would drown it out.

The next hour passed smoothly, and as 1am neared, you found only one task left on your list. One you had gotten near the start of your shift, but purposefully put off. Unjamming the coin slots in some arcade machines in the West Arcade. That task filled you with dread. You’d looked at enough arcade cabinets to know the coin slots were usually low to the ground, and you usually had to crouch on the ground and bend over to unjam them. That was already going to be hell on your back, but also, the West Arcade was a giant three-floor area, and the jammed cabinets were scattered throughout it. There would be a lot of crouching, bending, standing, climbing stairs, and walking.

Reluctantly, you took the elevator up to the Pizzaplex’s third floor, preparing your small screwdriver and keys in anticipation of the unjamming to come.

Well, at least the West Arcade was one of the coolest-looking places in the Pizzaplex. You stopped for a moment to take it all in. The neon here was bright, but not overwhelming. And the holes in the walls were an interesting design. Before you headed off in search of the jammed cabinets, you ducked into the side room with the dance floor, just out of curiosity. You hadn’t been a big fan of the Pizzaplex before getting the job, but even you had heard of the DJ animatronic in the Fazcade.

“Holy shit,” you muttered, staring at the massive animatronic on the stage. They appeared to be sleeping, resting their head on their folded front arms. “Um, hi?” You clicked your company-issued flashlight (they never asked you to return it after the blackout yesterday) on and off a couple times, shining it at their face. “Music Man? Are you awake or in like...rest mode or something?” The lack of a response was an answer in and of itself. “Well, if you can somehow hear me, hi, I’m new, I’m going to be working in this area for like...at least the next hour. Will probably show up again some other day. Uh...good to meet you. I hear you’re pretty cool.” You started to feel kind of silly talking to a sleeping robot, so you turned around and headed out.

The task on your FazWatch gave you rough locations for the jammed cabinets, but not specific directions. You stood at the entrance to the West Arcade for a moment, formulating a plan, then decided to start on the first floor. You’d just found the first cabinet listed in the task—something called Plushtrap Chaser—when the lights went out.

You froze, wondering if this was another blackout like yesterday. And then you remembered something that management told you when assigning you a night shift: “Every hour from one A.M. to six A.M., the power in the Pizzaplex is diverted to the recharge stations for the Glamrock animatronics. The building will be dark for five minutes. Do not worry. This is completely normal." So, even when there were no Glamrock animatronics, that programming still held up. Probably too much effort to change that.

What, exactly, happened to put all the Glamrocks out of commission for so long? You remembered that earlier that night, Pamela the technician had said her desk was full of Glamrocks. Was she repairing them? Or...in charge of the team repairing them? How badly damaged were they? This all seemed very weird.

Well, if the lights were going to be out for five minutes, you might as well get comfortable. You slowly lower yourself to the floor and leaned back against the Plushtrap Chaser cabinet, stretching your legs out in front of you. This place was very spooky with all the lights out. Something about there being a bunch of places to hide in between arcade cabinets. Anxiety slowly creeped up on you, and you paused the music in your headphones so you could better hear your surroundings. Your flashlight beam darted around the big, empty space of the West Arcade. In particular, it lingered on the big holes in the walls. They’d been so cool when they were lit up with neon, now they were just spaces for something to hide.

And hide something did. The circle of light landed on a hole about eight feet off the ground, one of the smaller ones that was still easily big enough for a person to sit. Or an animatronic. As proven by the familiar moon-faced robot crouching in the opening.

“Oh mother of fuck!” You jumped. The animatronic—Moon—didn’t move at all. He just stared down at you with those glowing red eyes. “Uh...uhhh...hi?”

Moon’s face rotated until it was upside down. The rest of his body stayed crouched in the hole. “It’s past your bedtime,” he said in that raspy voice.

“Well I understand where you’re coming from this time,” you admitted. “But I’m still an adult, and I still work here. I’m on the clock.”

Moon kept staring at you. His face rotated back into position, the nightcap somehow staying on his head.

You kept your flashlight beam pointed at him. He was still very, very creepy. Not to mention he clearly didn’t mind harming you—or anyone else, reading between the lines of Sun’s earlier explanation. But knowing what he was drained some of the fear from you. Not all of it. But some.

You remembered your encounter with him yesterday. Specifically, the part where you yelled at him after he dropped you. He hadn’t moved to attack you again until after you finished talking. Maybe he wouldn’t attack you at all tonight if you kept saying whatever random bullshit came into your brain. “You know, people’s circadian rhythms are different for a reason,” you said, proud of how casual you sounded. “Some people are night owls, some people are early birds. That’s because when we were all living off the land or shit, if you had different people awake at different times, they could watch out for danger while the others slept. You’d take turns protecting the others from...I don’t know, lions, or whatever. But for some reason, our society puts a lot more emphasis on the morning and waking up early and all that. Sucks for night owls like me. But hey, at least I can take night shifts.”

Sure enough, Moon hadn’t gotten any closer during your rambling. Well, he’d leaned in a little, but hadn’t moved.

“It’s kind of like what you and Sun do, I guess,” you said.

Moon suddenly jolted.

“Surprised? Yeah, Sun told me about you two,” you continued. “Well, he told me what he knew. Which wasn’t a lot. I think he’s scared of you. I don’t know if he always was, I mean, he said he used to write letters to you. Maybe he was always afraid. Blacking out whenever the lights go off and getting your body taken over by someone else...yeah, that would be scary even if the other person was super nice. Lack of control, and all that. But either way, it suddenly became a lot scarier when things started to happen. He didn’t tell me what, but judging by your reaction to me yesterday, I can figure it out. Not to mention them closing the daycare. They let you look after kids? With glowing red eyes? I’m surprised the daycare wasn’t sued into closing earlier.” You squinted up at him. “Why’d you change? I wondered if you got a glitch or something, but maybe you just decided to start being murderous. Heh. You’re probably not gonna tell me, are you? You don’t seem very wordy.”

A moment passed as you and Moon stared at each other. And then Moon turned around and vanished into the hole in the wall. You could hear the usual mechanical noises, as well as metal thumps as he climbed through some sort of tunnel.

“Good talk,” you said. At least he didn’t jump at you or anything.

A minute later, the lights turned on again, illuminating the West Arcade in beautiful neon pink, purple, and blue. “Bisexual rights,” you muttered. Then you turned around to face the Plushtrap Chaser arcade cabinet. Time to start actually doing your job.

Unjamming all the coin slots turned out to be as painful and time consuming as you feared. The one upside was that you weren’t getting any new tasks. That allowed you to take your time, standing and crouching slowly to delay the inevitable heavy breathing against bruised ribs. It took a full hour to find and unjam all the arcade cabinets, with half the time spent just locating the damn things.

You finished on the third floor, and took a moment to sit down and chill on a sofa in one of the karaoke rooms—or at least, that’s what you assumed they were. Shortly after sitting down, the lights went out again as 2am approached.

Even though you were expecting it this time, it didn’t make the sudden darkness any less eerie. You took out your flashlight once more, this time pointing it at the doorway to the karaoke room.

One minute later, a familiar face appeared in the doorway. Moon was standing right outside. His crescent-moon-face leaned into the doorway from the left side, hands gripping the frame. He waved at you. It was both cheerful and somewhat threatening.

“Hey, Mr. Hyde,” you said, aiming your flashlight at him again. “You know, I was wondering something. Sun can’t leave the daycare. How the fuck are you here?”

“Forgot to change permissions,” Moon said simply.

“Permissions?”

“For roaming.”

“Oh.” The gears in your mind spun for a moment. “You mean...both you and Sun used to be able to roam the Pizzaplex—or at least, go beyond the daycare. But they changed the protocols in your programming, and now Sun is stuck in the daycare, but they forgot to change yours so you aren’t. That’s kind of a massive oversight, isn’t it? Hey, we’re gonna restrict the movement of this animatronic because he’s probably hurting people. But we’re just going to do it on the mind that isn’t the one being all creepy and shit, and not the one who’s actually dropping people from bridges. No, I am not gonna let that go, that’s for asking.” You glared at Moon. “But anyway, I’m not surprised Fazbear made that mistake. I’m actually surprised they didn’t give you more stuff to do! Hell, let’s have him serve pizza to the kiddies! Nothing will happen, surely!”

Moon chuckled. Wait. Was that in response to your comment, or was he just laughing because he did that a lot? “Mr. who?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“What you called me,” Moon explained. “Mr. who?”

“Oh! Mr. Hyde? Yeah, I was telling Sun about that earlier. There’s this book called The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It’s a gothic novel, and it’s sort of become a symbol for split personalities. Reminded me of you two, cause you’re also two people in one body.” You chuckled. “Honestly, though? Even though the name’s become known for evil alter egos, the book itself is actually a little different than most interpretations.”

“How?” Moon asked.

“Uhh...” For a moment, you were thrown off by the question. Was he...actually interested? Or was this some sort of distraction? You decided to talk anyway. It worked before. “Well, in the book, Dr. Jekyll is this scientist who makes a potion that can transform him into Mr. Hyde. That’s in most interpretations, too, but what’s different in the book is that Jekyll and Hyde aren’t really that different from each other. Hyde is, like, Jekyll but without any impulse control. And Jekyll remembers what he does as Hyde, which is really different from most interpretations where neither of them know what the other does. Jekyll took the potion on purpose so he could do impulsive, dangerous stuff without feeling guilty. Stuff like killing a random guy on the street. But of course, Hyde leads to a bunch of legal trouble because of him committing crimes, so Jekyll tries to stop being him. But that doesn’t work because for whatever reason Jekyll starts turning into Hyde more and more, and he can’t control it, and as Hyde he can’t control himself, so it’s really...uh...frightening.”

At some point, Moon had gone very still. Not like the stillness before a predator pounces. More like...the same was Sun went still when you explained Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to him earlier. Was Moon having that same reaction? Whatever that reaction was?

“How does it end?” Moon asked. “The book.”

“Oh. Well.” For some reason, you hesitated. “Jekyll tries to find a cure to turning into Hyde, but nothing he’s doing is working. Meanwhile, the police figure out that Hyde and Jekyll are connected and start to hunt him down. Eventually, Jekyll realizes that he’s going to become Hyde, with all of his lack of control, permanently. So he writes down everything as a confession. Then he turns into Hyde forever, and when the police and the book’s narrator—not Jekyll, by the way, but some other guy—track down Hyde, he, uh...immediately shoots himself in the head and dies. It’s...not a very happy ending. But it’s not a very happy book.”

Moon gripped the doorframe harder. You could see the tightening of his mechanical joints from where you were sitting. Did he not like the ending? Was he going to take that out on you? You instinctively brace yourself...only for Moon to disappear. You could hear his mechanical footsteps retreating.

You keep your flashlight on the door until the lights turn back on.

No more tasks arrived for the last hour of your shift, so you stayed in the karaoke room until it was time to clock out, thinking about Sun and Moon and the idea of being two minds in one body.

[leggyre]

You got any adivce for someone who's considering dropping drawing completely since they don't like what they're making at all?

honestly i've been in the same struggle recently bc it just hasn't been a good year for me. i haven't been drawing a lot bc most of the time i'm either sick or i just.. can't. I've been picking myself up as of late and it's a really difficult grind, but honestly the fact i've been able to actually start this grind is already good for now. I guess that counts as advice; be patient with yourself. Self-esteem doesn't come easy and the little steps are worth so much more than you think.

ok so uh,

-if you just started, don't think about it too much. we all start with the weird scribbles. if you stop now you might never get back to it -if you've been trying to doodle often and always end up hating the result, just take a break. art block is seasoning for burnout and you might just be tired. a lot of times i've felt bad about my art i kinda "gave up" for a while and when i came back to it it was like "wtf this easy what was my issue (it was burnout)". so take a break, play some videogames or hang out with your friends for a week. idk write essays about the media you like? it feels like you're being unproductive but resting IS part of productive because just pushing yourself will just result in nothing being done at the end of the day. -look at your favorite work! im not quite out of my latest artblock yet because its a tough one(it's been teaming up with depression caused by health problems it suuuuucks :/), but when i went long enough without being able to draw I kinda started feeling like I can't do shit and can't call myself an illustrator at all specially bc what i do isnt that big of a deal compared to others(<- comparison also big mistake remember youre the only one who can make YOUR art), going through my folders and seeing the stuff I like the most gave me a LOT of motivation to keep going, even if I was still unable to start drawing right away. not giving up is so important. -so yeah love your art. focus on drawing things you like because it's a gift from you to you, and you should treat it as such. i know it's really hard to be positive about it all the time but it can be really good to go through all your artwork at the end of a day and look at the things you like about it, even if it isn't much. -on that note, find something you really like drawing!!! back in high school i had massive periods of depression that kept me from drawing but i occasionally found sort of a 'life hack' for myself which were things i was always able to work with even during the worst times. one of them was just.. bees. i just doodled random characters as these bees and made og designs too and it was fun. the other one was using colored pencils instead of a regular one bc i just like colors and it made me happy :] it didnt matter that they always had the same overall shape or if i couldnt erase when i messed up, i was just feeling good being able to draw something that i liked. -experiment more!! expand your palettes and download some new brushes. i even change from my newest to my old busted tablet that still sorta works occasionally because using a tool that feels different is.. refreshing somehow? idk -when you need to get yourself back up, do the little steps at your own pace. do a little doodle every day. it's okay if it's always the same thing. the same character. the exact same idea. it's okay if it sucks or if it's unfinished because you struggled. Just give it little pushes. What matters is to try. and it's okay if you can't do it every day. maybe every other day if you need a slower pace. -and remember. engagement doesn't measure your skill. art is subjective anyways!!!!! i spent YEARS doodling and posting only my ocs and getting little to no notes. i think one of my favorite artworks from the time i had ~100 followers had like 0 notes for the longest time. to be honest i don't even know if it has any likes at all nowadays i'd have to look it up bc it's a bit buried

[searchingforserendipity25]

hmmmm ship opinions..... how about finrod/beor

ohh they're canon. absolutely. thank you! @welcomingdisaster! they make me ill in a fun way.

i'm actually a lil bit convinced tolkien wrote it on purpose (delusional). the athrabeth becomes so much more layered through those lenses, and if it's not on purpose then i guess i can only hope to one day pull off such an unintended yet effective emotional beat.

also from the athrabeth, finrod's speech on pity makes me slightly insane. is this inescapable pity the mortal in a relationship with an elf is sure to face his own or those of the elves around beor? i have to think it is his own too, and this is one of those cases in tolkien where pity is not spoken of as life-saving or ethically redeeming, but a thing that is actively painful and harmful for both of them!

but also, pity here is a shorthand for grief, and finrod's own grief at that. pity not merely for beor's aging, but for the whole situation, and it is diminishing enough to be an outright cause to wish to rescind all the rest, because the rest is not worth it in comparison. a lot of self-pity as well in the mix! philosophically speaking, this is a lot to deconstruct just by itself.

his absolute certainty that a marriage between immortal and mortal will assuredly lead to grief even when both parties start out committed to the joy of it? he is NOT dealing well with his grief. he very much did not deal well with beor's aging, and what it meant to watch him age, especially in an elvish kingdom.

he plainly regrets their relationship! what do you even do with that. it was beor's only lifetime, and finrod believes that their relationship made it worse. what do you even do with that. what can he do, except keep his brother away from the same fate, and doom himself for the same hope?

which is interesting! i like that for him. beor died in despair holding the hand of his beloved and left him to a doom chosen out of love's best and worst aspects :) who else is doing it like them.

and by the way! i kind of want to know old beor's take on this. what was he thinking of, when he died? did he regret it too? finrod is very hopeless, and takes to the possibility of hope so strongly presumably its not something beor himself argued very convincingly for.

idk, but this at least as much about beor, too, and i'm curious about him. maybe he thought the grief he faced/caused was worth it for the uplifting of his line? maybe he thought finrod would get over it? maybe he thought it was worth it, grief and all, full-heartedly, with a very human approach to life, and finrod, who had to survive him, did not agree (not unusual in widowers). interesting!

they're lovely! i hope they meet again in the Second Song, but like. they'd have to invent new kinds of joint relationship & grief counseling, just saying. again, they're lovely: i think they can pull it off. in a very small and significant way, the possibility of a joyful connection between them is foundational to the promise of a perfect Music.